monachopsis | stiles stilinski [1]

chapter twelve: code breaker

"No. I'm not just letting you leave her-them here," Stiles refused, and I think his eyes were trained on me. I don't know, my head was fuzzy from when Peter slammed my head on the floor just moments ago.

"You don't have a choice, Stiles. You're coming with me," Peter demanded, looking utterly inconvenienced by this.

So sorry about this, Peter. Whatever can we do to make your life easier?

"Just kill me," Stiles' voice was thick with tears. "Look, I don't care anymore."

Scanning through possible outcomes and seeing the only option where Stiles remained unharmed, I pushed down my pride.

"Don't touch him," I croaked out and my eyes bore into Stiles' to convince him I was okay. "Stiles, I'm okay, I can feel myself healing. Go."

Peter eyed the two of us, determining both of our convictions and he let out an exasperated sigh, "Call your friend. Tell Jackson where they are. That's all you get."

After Stiles barked at Jackson to come to the lacrosse field, he put his hand on my cheek and guided my head down slightly so he could kiss my forehead.

His lips pressed against my forehead and my eyes shut momentarily in bliss, despite the situation we were in.

"Go, I'll find you," I whispered but Peter chuckled darkly.

"Yeah, about that," He placed his hands on my leg and a loud snap echoed around the empty sky, a grunt of pain leaving my lips. "Just to make sure you don't follow us. If you do, your little boyfriend won't be as lucky."

Stiles screamed when Peter snapped my leg in half, "What the fuck?!"

"It's fine, she'll heal," Peter rolled his eyes, wiping the blood off his hands. "Now, let's go."

Seeing my reassuring nod, Stiles hesitantly got up and disappeared into the trees with Peter.

I forced myself up into a seated position, no qualms about letting my hisses of pain out now that Peter was gone, and I sucked air in between my teeth when I saw the damage that Peter did.

Splintered, the white bone of my shin was speared through my skin as blood pooled around the area.

Wonderful. 

What was it with Peter and breaking my legs? I mean first the video store, now this.

Gritting my teeth, I gently placed one hand right below my knee and the other above wrapped around my ankle. In one sharp movement and a scream of pain later, the bone was mending and my heart pounded against my chest as I heaved for breath.

Paying no attention to my pain, I half-crawled and half-dragged myself toward Lydia, the only thing keeping me sane was the rhythmic pulse that emitted from her chest.

"Lydia?! Lydia?!" I heard Jackson's distant yell from inside the school and as soon as he burst out of the doors, I waved my arms around like a madwoman.

"Over here!"

Making the executive decision that my leg had healed enough, I clambered up onto my feet shakily, ignoring the sharp pang of pain that rang up to my hip. I leaned down and attempted to scoop Lydia up into my arms but stumbled back a little, my body protesting in agony.

"It's okay, I've got her," Jackson reassured me, his voice gentler than I ever thought it could be. He delicately picked Lydia up bridal style, managing not to jostle her.

"Did you call 911?" At the shake of his head, I squatted down to pick up my bag and I dialed the number that I had dialed more in this past year than ever in my entire life.