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Stiles was waiting in the jeep for Scott, idly tapping against the steering wheel and staring out into the dark woods.
The preserve had always seemed mysterious at night, but since Stiles now knew very well that all kinds of supernatural creatures lived out there, it seemed downright sinister.
But Scott had asked him to patrol together and Stiles had agreed immediately, eager to finally spend some time with Scott again. It had been weeks since he and Scott had spent any time together, even longer since Scott had called him for non-supernatural things and Stiles was looking forward to this.
They would finally get to talk again, and Stiles could tell Scott all about his growing magic, that he was training to be an emissary and no longer the fragile human Scott sometimes seemed to believe he was.
Stiles could tease him about Kira, they would joke about Derek’s eyebrows and Isaac’s scarves and it would be like old times again. Stiles missed those times.
Now Scott was always busy with Kira, and being an alpha, and hanging out with Isaac and working with Deaton. Stiles usually took a back seat these days, so he was looking forward to this night of bro time.
Stiles was still staring outside, thinking about all the things they would finally have the time to talk about, when Scott climbed into the jeep and Stiles startled badly.
“The fuck,” he hissed, grabbing for his now rapidly beating heart.
“You should pay better attention,” Scott told him with a look and Stiles rolled his eyes.
“Maybe, but you could have just made your presence known,” he gave back, and Scott shrugged.
“I called you, you weren’t answering your phone,” he gave back, and Stiles frowned.
His phone had been trashed during their run in with the kelpies last week, and everyone knew it. Hell, even his dad’s deputies new that Stiles didn’t have a phone, so Scott really should know that as well.
Before Stiles could tell Scott that though, he went right on.
“Listen, I have to go,” he said, checking his watch and Stiles heart dropped.
Of course Scott wouldn’t have time for him.
“Kira and I are supposed to meet, like, right now, so I have to hurry. I just dropped by cause you didn’t pick up,” he said and there was something accusing in his tone, like he was blaming Stiles for the detour he had to take.
“Oh,” was all Stiles managed to say.
“Yeah, it’s not a problem, right?” Scott asked but didn’t really wait for Stiles to answer. “I haven’t seen her since school and you know how it is,” he went on even though Stiles really didn’t know how it was.
He had never stood up his best friend for a girl, or a guy, and hey look, another thing Scott didn’t know about him.
“Anyway, we really need to patrol regularly but you can totally do it alone, the kelpies are gone, and there shouldn’t be anything out there at the moment, so you should be good,” Scott continued, oblivious to Stiles suddenly increased heartbeat.
Stiles sometimes wondered how Scott managed to notice anything with how oblivious he seemed most of the time. Stiles was sure his scent alone should have tipped Scott off on the fact that he was distressed but Scott didn’t even so much as glance towards him, checking his phone and smiling down at it before quickly typing out an answer.
“It’s Kira, she’s waiting for me,” Scott said. “If anything happens, call Isaac, he should have time,” Scott went on as he climbed out of the jeep again. “Anyway, thanks Stiles, you’re great, bye!” he called out and then ran off, leaving Stiles to stare after him.
Stiles could feel his magic boil under his skin, agitated by his feelings and he took a deep breath. He had to remind himself that Scott didn’t mean anything by this, and that he should let Scott have this, but it was hard.
Scott had a lot on his plate with being alpha and leading the pack and seeing Kira on top of that, but it all felt wrong to Stiles.
He was training to be Scott’s emissary, and even without that he should be part of the pack, but somehow Scott always forgot to include him or ran off, leaving him behind like right now.
Stiles had tried to see past it these last few weeks, but this just really showed him how little Scott cared about him.
Stiles continued to take deep breaths until his magic was calm again and then he sighed. He would not get Isaac to patrol with him, he’d rather die than do that and besides. If he drove back into town now only to return here later, it would fuck up his gas plan and they would lose too much time on top of that.
He quickly debated just not going on patrol and instead driving over to Peter’s to spend the night there, but with one look out of the window he decided that that was stupid. Someone needed to patrol, and make sure no new supernatural things had come to visit.
Stiles might as well just do it alone. Chris had trained him in hand-to-hand combat and with his magic Stiles was fairly sure he could defend himself if he needed to.
~*~*~
Stiles laughed hysterically as spell after spell just dropped of the monster’s skin. Of course he would run into a creature that was immune against magic, because that was just his life. He should have known better.
The monster, it had too many extremities and eyes to be anything else, shook its’ body before it stared at Stiles.
“Fuck,” Stiles whispered and slowly edged back.
When the monster took one step into his direction Stiles turned around and started to run as fast as he could.
He was already hopelessly lost in the woods, but there was something like a trail and he just hoped that following it would lead him out of here.
Stiles didn’t dare to throw a glance over his shoulder, too afraid to stumble if he took his eyes off the ground, but he could hear the monster behind him.
It was probably steadily gaining on him, given how many extremities it had available to use as legs, and Stiles would curse if he had any air left to do so. Instead he kept a steady prayer going in his head, hoping that he could get out, that someone would come to help him, that the monster lost interest in him.
When something snatched on his legs, Stiles had a quick second to feel betrayed that none of his prayers had come true, before he crushed to the ground. He barely managed to brace himself, only Chris training preventing him from face-planting in the ground and Stiles quickly rolled to the side.
Not a second to late, because the monster was suddenly where Stiles had been, and Stiles paled at the speed of the thing.
All of a sudden, he was painfully aware that the monster had been playing with him if this was how fast it could move.
Stiles scrambled back, throwing spell after spell at the monster, in hopes that something would stick somehow, but it didn’t seem bothered by any of it. Stiles quickly debated if it was worth setting fire to the woods, but before he could decide that yes, it totally was, there was suddenly a hand in his side.
It took his brain a second to catch up to everything, to connect the suddenly elongated extremity to the hand in his side, but when it did, the pain slammed into him too.
Stiles screamed, trying desperately to get away and the monster retracted its’ hand with a sickening squelch from his side.
There was a sizeable hole, something Stiles noticed with a level of detachment that couldn’t be healthy, and the blood gushed freely out of the wound. A distant part of Stiles wondered if the blood loss would kill him or if the monster had managed to tear something important and that would kill him.
Going by how much blood was still coming out of him, he thought it might be the first.
Stiles stared back at the monster who was tilting its’ head from one side to the other, carefully regarding him with unblinking eyes before it moved again.
Stiles didn’t even have time to close his eyes, it was so fast, but something else was faster and Stiles blinked at the space where the monster had been a second ago.
He was in shock, that much he knew, but it still took him an uncomfortable long time to notice the growling that came from his left and when he finally managed to turn his head, he saw Peter fight the monster.
He was bleeding from shallow wounds already, nothing as bad as Stiles’ own injury, but the monster seemed to have a hard time withstanding Peter’s claws.
It would figure that Stiles would run into something that was immune to magic but tore like paper under claws and he started to laugh hysterically.
Peter looked back at him, concern clear on his face, but he wasn’t distracted enough to miss the monsters charge at him. He shoved his hands into the monster and then tore, splitting the thing wide open and letting it crash to the ground.
He was at Stiles’ side a second later.
“Stiles, let me see,” he urgently said, and tugged Stiles hand out of the way.
Stiles hadn’t been aware that he had put his hand over the wound, but now the warm wet feeling made a lot more sense.
“Shit,” Peter whispered and tugged his jacked off.
Stiles wanted to make a joke about Peter getting naked, but everything was so far away and blurry, and he was so, so exhausted, it didn’t seem worth the effort.
Peter wrapped the jacket around his middle and bound it in place. When he pulled it tight, Stiles screamed in pain again.
His side was on fire, it hurt too much to even breathe with the added pressure and Stiles was distantly aware that he was crying.
“I got you,” Peter promised, but even through the pain Stiles could see how worried Peter was. It was etched into every line on his face.
“Sorry,” Stiles mumbled, and Peter’s eyes snapped to his face.
“What for?” he asked, as he slid his arms under Stiles’ leg and around his back to pick him up.
“Alone, stupid,” Stiles muttered, and it made more sense in his head, mostly because there were more words there, but he was too tired to say them all out loud.
“Hey, no, stay awake,” Peter snapped at him, as he ran through the woods.
But Stiles couldn’t, he was too tired; tired enough that not even the pain could keep him awake anymore. He thought that maybe losing consciousness was a bad thing, that Peter was right in asking him to stay awake, but he couldn’t.
There was blood pooling on his belly, too much to really contemplate, and Stiles wondered how they would get it back inside him, before everything went black.
~*~*~
Stiles came to slowly, his senses filtering in one after the other. His hearing returned first, a steady beeping and people muttering around him. Next, he was assaulted by the smell of hospital, and he wanted to groan when he recognized it. He hated the hospital.
Someone was squeezing his hand and Stiles slightly turned his head, not yet strong enough to open his eyes as well.
“Stiles?” his dad asked, and he sounded worried and tired, and Stiles just had to open his eyes.
Everything was blurry for a few seconds, but eventually things came into focus and he could see his dad at his bedside, leaning forward with a slight crease in his brow.
Peter was standing near his feet, looking no less worried and run down than his dad and Stiles sighed.
“What happened?” he croaked out and his dad kissed the back of his hand.
“Thank god,” he sobbed and got up to press another kiss to Stiles’ forehead.
“Dad?” Stiles asked, suddenly worried about what happened that had his dad so desperate.
“You got badly hurt, Stiles,” John told him, and Stiles remembered the monster in the woods.
He looked at Peter whose whole posture had relaxed.
“Saved me,” he said, and Peter shook his head.
“No, Stiles, the doctors saved you. I was almost too late,” Peter gave back.
“Injuries?” Stiles asked his dad, complete sentences still somehow too much for him.
“You had a hole in your side,” Peter said when John stayed quiet for too long. “It tore right through you. They had to take out your spleen, and one of your kidneys got ruptured. Plus, you lost a lot of blood,” Peter listed off and Stiles looked down at his sheet covered middle.
“You were lucky,” John told him, but Peter shook his head.
“There was nothing lucky about it,” Peter hissed. “You died once, and your magic revived you,” he told Stiles and John’s grip on his hand got almost uncomfortable.
“Good for something,” Stiles muttered and then promptly fell asleep again.
The next time he woke up, he was a lot more aware.
Peter and his dad were still in his room and Stiles wasn’t sure how much time had passed.
The doctor came in, checking him over and telling him that he would not lose his kidney if he kept healing like that, but that they would have to keep him at least for a week, probably longer.
Stiles was tired when the doctor left, but he didn’t want to sleep again.
“How long have I been here?” he asked.
“Two days,” John said, and Stiles bet that his dad hadn’t went home once in that time.
Peter neither, going by his shaggy hair and untrimmed beard.
“You can go home and sleep,” Stiles told them, but both shook their head.
“Melissa allowed us to use the shower here, and there’s a room with a cot,” Peter explained and pushed his hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions.
“You didn’t have to stay,” Stiles mumbled, trying hard to forget that his dad was still in the room.
“Stiles, I couldn’t leave you,” Peter softly said and came closer to the bed, taking Stiles other hand in his.
“That’s a thing we’re going to talk about once you’re home,” John promised him, with a sharp look at Peter, but it was nowhere near the glare Stiles had expected.
Maybe Peter saving his life had mellowed his dad out.
Before he could say anything else the door to his room opened and Scott marched in.
“I’m sorry, I only had time now,” he said and then looked at John and Peter for a brief moment before he concentrated on Stiles again. “What happened?” he asked, and Stiles could feel his magic, pulsing underneath his skin, stronger than usual and Stiles briefly worried if his control would hold, tired as he was.
“I was attacked,” Stiles said with a frown, because really, if it had been two days, Scott should know this already.
Scott turned to Peter, eyes blazing, and Peter raised an eyebrow in question at him.
“Did you do this to him?” he demanded to know, and Stiles gaped at Scott.
“Do you really think if Peter hurt my boy he was allowed in here?” John asked Scott who shrugged.
“It’s Peter, I had to check,” he said, totally unconcerned as it seemed.
“He saved my life,” Stiles told him, voice hard. “He got me to the hospital and even then, I still died for a second there, apparently.”
“Why weren’t you with him, then?” Scott wanted to know. “And why did it take you so long to get him to the hospital?” Scott went on, apparently unaware of the low growl that came from Peter.
“Scott,” Stiles tried but Scott cut him off with a gesture.
“No, Stiles he has to explain himself. He let you get hurt!”
“You got me hurt!” Stiles yelled, and Scott turned to him with wide eyes. “You left me to patrol alone, because getting your dick wet is apparently more important than your territory or even me,” he went on and his dad patted his hand, quietly asking him to calm down.
“I told you to call Isaac,” Scott tried to defend himself and Peter took a menacing step towards him, but Stiles shook his head, asking him to stop.
“My phone is broken, has been for a week now. Which you would know if you cared at all.”
“I do care,” Scott said. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Three days too late,” Peter said from behind Scott and Scott whirled around to him.
“You don’t get to say anything!” he hissed at Peter and pinned him to the wall. “I bet it’s your fault he got hurt.”
Stiles heartbeat had picked up when Scott had touched Peter and his dad was looking in concern at him and the heart monitor, but Stiles didn’t pay him any attention.
“Enough!” Stiles shouted, and his magic exploded with a burst, swiping through the room, messing with electronics and forcing Scott away from Peter.
“What?” Scott asked, unable to move from where Stiles’ magic had pinned him against the wall.
“How dare you come in here and act like you are still my friend, like you have any right to accuse anyone except yourself?” Stiles lowly asked, anger coursing through him.
The door flew open and Melissa stepped in, apparently alerted by the frantic beeping and took the scene in with a look.
“What’s going on here?” she asked and walked over to Stiles’ bed, checking him over.
“Scott was just about to leave,” Stiles told her and forced his magic to release Scott.
“No, I’m not leaving you with him here,” he said with a sneer at Peter and Stiles wondered how anyone could be as stupid and thick-headed as Scott.
“Scott, I don’t want you here. You’re not my friend, and not my alpha. Leave me alone,” Stiles very clearly told him, and Scott blanched.
“And if you yet again don’t take my son’s words to heart, listen here,” John chimed in from the side. “If you enter this room again, if you come near my son again, I will shoot you.”
Scott turned wide-eyes to his mom, as if he was asking her for help, but she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“I think you were told to leave,” she said, disappointment clear in her voice and then went over to push Scott out of Stiles’ room.
“I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re banned,” Stiles heard her say as they walked away, and he relaxed back into this bed again.
This had taken a lot out of him.
“Rest, kiddo,” John said and smoothed his hand over Stiles’ hair.
“We’ll be here,” Peter assured him, squeezing his leg through the blanket and Stiles nodded.
He was crashing quickly but he wasn’t too worried. He was surrounded by people who loved him and would keep him safe, after all.