Second Chances - Stiles Stilinski (Season 1)

Chapter 29: Melted Ice Cream

Natalie

So, Rocky Road, or mint chocolate chip?" Eva taps her chin, deep in thought in the frozen aisle section of the grocery store. I let out a deep sigh and lean on the shopping cart.

"I feel like they just wanted us out of the house," I remark, interrupting Eva's monologue. She reaches into the freezer and grabs two cartons. "Weren't we supposed to be picking up chicken?" I chuckle, giving her the side eye.

"With all the fighting and crying that's been going on in the house, I think mom and dad need it," she says, tossing them in the cart. "Hell, I need it." Eva's small stature barely allows her shoulders to reach the fourth shelf, but the way she's carrying herself makes me think she's a lot older.

"How bad has it been, Eva?" I ask. I hadn't been home much with all of the werewolf adventure happening recently. My mind wanders to the other night, walking in on my mom drinking wine on the couch and crying. Eva shrugs, admiring some popsicles in a nearby case.

"They are really not getting along. More than any other time before," she says calmly, as if commenting on the weather. My protective, worried sister side starts to bubble up inside of my chest, but my attention is quickly drawn to my phone buzzing.

GET TO THE VET OFFICE NOW

An aggressive text from Stiles lights up the screen. It's definitely past the vet office hours.

"Who's that? Stiles?" Eva annunciates Stiles name sweetly. I shoot her an annoyed look while I consider my options. I can't just drop Eva off while my parents are in the middle of fighting. But could I bring her to a possible werewolf emergency?

Maybe she could just wait in the car.

"Eva?" I click my phone to go dark so she can't see the message. She's considering the ice cream topping section, her long brown hair tied back in a low ponytail slightly static toward the whipped cream cans. "I need to go help out Scott and Stiles with something. Would you mind tagging along?"

............................

The vet office is dark when we pull into the parking lot. I can see Eva giving me a curious side eye from the passenger seat.

"Right!" I say nervously, putting the car in park. The streetlight flickers ominously over us. I wonder what's worse, leaving her alone in the car, or her walking into a potential Derek-arm-amputation-part-two situation. "Eva," I turn my whole body to face her so that she can understand that I am serious, "you can come in with me, but you have to wait in the front room, got it?"

Her eyes crease in suspicion. "Yeah, whatever. We just need to get home before the ice cream melts," she shrugs, getting out of the car.

The front door to the office was unlocked. The silence is eerie and I question if I read Stiles' text wrong.

Scott's scream of pain cuts through the air.

Eva grabs my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "What was that," she hisses. The sounds came from the back room. I take Eva's shoulders and push her into the front desk chair, forcing her to sit down.

"Don't move from this spot. Don't get up, don't look around, nothing!" I coach, sticking my finger in her face. Her expression is signal enough that she's too alarmed to even move.

Bursting into the examination room, the scene is a strange one. It's not as bloody and horrific as I had been expecting, however Deaton, Scott's boss, the veterinarian, is using tweezers to pull out bullets from Scott's arm.

"What? What's he-" I stammer, pointing to Deaton. He has a slight smirk to his focus on Scott's wounds. Stiles stands up from leaning against the window bay, arms in front of him defensively.