Second Chances - Stiles Stilinski (Season 1)

Chapter 27: Some Coma Patient

Natalie

"Danny, we are going to have to raincheck on that homework," Stiles says as he slaps his shoulder, staring the computer screen closely. It took Danny thirty minutes to uncover where that the text had been sent from. Derek taps his chin for one moment, pondering the name on the screen.

"Let's go," he suddenly says, marching out of the room. Stiles looks to me, then the open bedroom door, and races after him.

"Sorry Danny, see you at school!" I squeal, hopping off of the bed and patting his head as I sprint out. I wave to Mr. Stilinski as I run out of the front door. Derek is already in the front seat of the Jeep with Stiles opening the driver's side door.

"How could the text be sent from Melissa McCall's computer?" I call to him as I race to the backseat. "That doesn't make sense?"

"It does if someone sent it while she was working at the hospital," Derek turns to say to me as I buckle in. "Which is where we are headed. Let's go, Stiles," he motions to him to pick up the pace. I feel my pocket vibrate.

"Scott!" I say, feeling relieved for his call. All of this goes much smoother when we are all in the loop.

"Where the hell are you? More specifically where the hell is Stiles?" I can hear the commotion of the locker room in the background. I put the phone on speaker so Stiles can offer his colorful opinion.

"We got a little caught up," I say, glimpsing at Derek who seems to be on edge.

"Did you get my picture?" I check my messages, a photo of Allison's necklace opening up on the screen. Derek notices me studying the picture and rips the phone from my hand. Rude.

"Was there anything on the back or inside?" Derek asks into the speaker.

"There's nothing. Nothing on it, nothing in it," he complains, the frustration ringing in his voice. "Where the hell is Stiles? The game is about to start!" Coach Finstock's screeching voice can be heard in the background of the call.

"Bilinski! Bilinski!" The sound is muffled by Scott as he has a conversation.

"Stiles, if you aren't here by the game starts, Coach says you'll be taken off first line," Scott hisses into the phone. I see Stiles' grip tighten on the wheel as he makes his way to the hospital.

"Yeah, I know Scott. See you soon," he sighs. I hang up before Scott can ask anymore questions.

"Are you going to give any more details as to what is going on?" I shove Derek's shoulder in the front seat. He looks straight ahead.

"There was one survivor of the Hale fire," he says simply. Stiles breaks so abruptly that I am almost launched into the front of the car. He turns to Derek, eyes blazing.

"What?" he seethes. Stiles loves to know everything, and this missing piece of the puzzle is about to set him off.

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" I mutter, rubbing my shoulder that slammed into the passenger seat on impact. Derek motions to keep going on our journey.

"Peter Hale. But he's been in a coma all of these years. I just need you two to check," he eyes up the hospital as we turn into the parking lot, "that he's still incapable of sending an email from Melissa McCall's computer."

"Why do we have to go in?" I moan. I know how much front line means to Stiles. Since when are we doing Derek Hale's bidding?

"Hello, fugitive, no thanks to you two," there is an underlying anger and annoyance in his tone as he motions up and down his body.