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"Ah! You douchebag!" shouted Stiles and Scott laughed.
"Hey man, I can't help it if you suck." Scott laughed. Stiles punched him in the arm.
"I don't suck! I'm just warming up." Stiles replied stretching his arms wide and wiggling his figures.
The boys were in Scott's room playing COD on his new (second hand) TV. His mom, feeling sorry after Allison broken up with him, managed to get one cheap and since then Scott and Stiles had been perfecting the skill of shooting people.
Stiles looked at Scott furtively as Scott selected the next map. The full moon was that night and they had yet to bring it up. Then as if reading his mind, or maybe just his heartbeat, Scott spoke.
"Full moon tonight." said Scott, not looking away from the TV.
"Is it?" Said Stiles trying to sound offhand but failing. He then tried harder by scratching his head, then rubbing his face, then attempting to cross his legs, and almost falling off his chair.
"Can I ask you a favor?" asked Scott still not looking at him.
"Shoot." Said Stiles now deciding that crossing his arms and legs was best.
"I'm not sure if I can do it alone this time." Scott's voice was quite almost shameful and he had stopped fiddling with his controller and it now hung limply in his hands. Stiles of course knew exactly what Scott was talking about. His best friend had tried to be positive at first and he still did truly believe that Allison would come back to him, but having his anchor ripped out from underneath his feet was a gut wrenching experience for the young werewolf. Stiles elbowed him in the arm playfully.
"Hey buddy! What are best friends for if not chaining up their buddies as they turn into monsters?" joked Stiles and Scott managed a slight grin. "But first…" continued Stiles "Let me just hand your ass to you on a silver platter."
"Brave words." Said Scott selecting the map now smiling broadly.
They sat there playing COD until night fell. Melissa came in to tell them she was leaving (she was working the night shift) at around six and at seven Stiles looked up at the sky wearily.
"It's about time buddy." he said slapping Scott on the back. Scott nodded.
"Yeah." was all he said in reply. Scott had been becoming increasingly quite as the day stretched on until he was now barely saying a word.
"Still got the chains from that last time?" asked Stiles.
"Under my bed." said Scott standing up slowly and putting his controller on top of the TV. "You've got Isaac's number right? Just in case things go wrong?"
Stiles, who had leaped over the bed and was pulling out the heavy black bag, nodded. "Yup! but hey, just out of interest, why didn't you ask him to help you?" asked Stiles looking at Scott out of the corner of his eye.
"He trusts me." said Scott plainly. He was still standing motionlessly by the TV "I can't loose control in front of him."
Stiles nodded slowly. "Do you think the radiator will be fine?" he asked looking at it thoughtfully.
"Yeah." said Scott again. He hadn't moved. Stiles looked at him wearily then started weaving the chains in and out of the radiator. Once it was done he looked back at his friend.
"Scott?" he said tentatively. "It's ready." Scott looked over at him and Stiles saw that his eyes were beginning to flicker between the deep dark brown he knew well to the piercing yellow. Scott didn't say anything but just walked over slowly. He sat down next to the radiator. Stiles looked at his best friend sadly feeling helpless and useless like always when this wolf stuff started happening.
"Do it now Stiles." growled Scott angrily making Stiles jump.
"Yup, on it." he said quickly, wrapping the chains around Scott's wrists and ankles.
"Round my neck too." breathed Scott every moment that passed seeming to cause him pain with his effort in trying not to turn. Stiles wrapped the chain round Scott's neck then retreated quickly over the bed.
The full moon shone in bright through the window.
Transforming in to a werewolf by choice is very different to being forced into transforming on the full moon. Scott felt like his body was on fire. The blood now rushing though his veins burned and seemed like it was pushing his bones into the shape he now was very familiar with. He wanted to cry out in pain, to shout for help, but was horrified when all that came out was a roar. He looked at Stiles helplessly. Stiles was cowering on the other side of his bed looking at him wide eyed and scared. He didn't want Stiles to see this, such a terrifying side of him.
"Go!" he managed to yell as the hair on his face grew and his bones cracked and popped into it's new position.
"N… no! I'm not going to leaving you alone!" gasped Stiles. It would have been inaudible over the howling and bone crunching but with his keen hearing Scott could hear every quivering heartbeat. He looked at his friend pleadingly but knew it was no use. Stiles was going to go through this with him.
Stiles choked back tears of pity as he watched his friend writhing about on the floor bathed in the full moon's light. Finally, after what seemed hours, the convulsions subsided. Scott, or rather werewolf Scott, sat hunched and motionless on the floor. Stiles peered over the bed at him.
"Buddy? You in there?" asked Stiles tentatively. A defining roar bellowed out from the werewolf as he arched his back and looked out at the sky. "I'll take that as a no." said Stiles hiding back behind the bed.
Scott could feel everything. The creeping of bugs in the grass outside, to the defining noise of Stiles' terrified heartbeat. Scott was aware but not aware, like he was holding onto his human consciousness with a spider web and the crushing loss of Allison was trying to pull the last thread out of his hands. Every now and then it would slip out of his hands and he would roar and Stile's breathing would stop. Then Scott would be able to grab it back and try with all his might to control it. This happened in random intervals for a good few hours. Stiles was becoming more and more used to the outbursts. Then, as he felt another one coming, he heard scuffling. Distracted he looked up at Stiles who was rummaging around his TV. Then he turned it on, grabbed a controller, and started playing COD.
Stiles looked behind him furtively. Scott was on all fours transfixed, his yellow eyes boring into the screen. Stiles grinned to himself. This was one of his better ideas. He was using the video game to bring Scott's mind back to something he had been concentrating on for most of that day. This might be one way to help him keep control.
They sat there in silence; the game the only thing making a noise. Stiles would look behind him every now and then. Scott just stared at the screen a pained look on his face, every now and then he would look at Stiles then his eyes would dart back to the screen. During the game when Stiles would nearly die Scott would wine like a lost puppy. The first time this happened it took Stiles by surprise but then he laughed. "Dont worry buddy!"
This carried on for the rest of the night. The sun was rising when Stiles, blurry eyed turn to look at Scott.
Scott was kneeling on the floor looking at his hands. They were slowly returning to normal. He looked up at Stiles who ginned at him goofily as Scott's eyes turned back to their usual brown. Scott grinned back.
"Thanks." said Scott sounding totally exhausted.
"Any time." said Stiles smiling and turning off the TV.
Scott then felt his head sag and his eyes close. Mentally and physically holding himself back all night would tire anyone out.
Stiles turned round to see his friend slumped on the floor.
"Scott!" he yelled in surprised running over to the bed. Scott was fast asleep. Stiles rolled his eye and started unlocking the chains. "Honestly. How do you even sleep on a bed of chains?"