my personal devil in prada // lydia martin

How many times do I have to punch this mofo to get him to listen to me?

1x10 - Co-Captain

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long, I've been going through a lot of shit at the moment, and this chapter was an absolute pain in the arse to write because there were so few scenes. But the next chapter is definitely going to be one to look forward to. :)

*** means a scene break, and ^^^ means a change in perspective.

We stay doubled over and panting for a few moments, before I start to come to my senses.

I nudge Stiles with my elbow, "We need to," I panted, "find Scott."

He gives a silent nod before we shakily climb into his jeep.

"Want me to drive?" I offer.

"No, why'd you ask?"

"It's just that we've been sitting here for the past few minutes, while you stare into nothing, looking like you're about to shit yourself."

"Oh," he clears his throat but makes no move to start the car, "I can't believe that Peter is the alpha."

"Well, he is the only other known werewolf, so it shouldn't be much of a surprise." It's still a big surprise. Somehow.

"Do you think Derek made it out?"

"I don't know. But let's not stick around to find out."

Stiles nods and turns the key, then pulls out of the hospital parking lot. I can barely feel the vibrating engine next to my shaking body.

"We both missed the game. Coach is probably gonna bench us for a few weeks at least," Stiles murmurs, with a forlorn tone.

"I really think you need to sort out your priorities."

"Why, doesn't it matter to you?" he raises his eyebrow quizzically, as he continues to drive to the school.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'd say that our little paranormal predicament is a bit more important than high school."

"I know. But what about after that? You know, college? A job? Aren't you worried about what happens then?"

"No, not really. My life has been pretty much one supernatural disaster to the next, I've stopped considering the possibility of me ever having a normal life."

"You, will. I promise. I mean, as soon as we deal with Peter, things will go back to normal, and the biggest issue in our life is who we'll take to prom," he smiles, and pats my leg reassuringly. I don't believe a word he says.

"Speaking of prom: you going?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?" he exclaims.

"First of all: I hate dresses -- they're uncomfortable and I look awful in them. Second of all: school dances are always lame. Third of all: just... no."

"You don't have to wear a dress," he argues, "and they aren't... always lame, just... most of the time."

"Why does it sound like you're listing reasons for me to go?"

It's suspicious of the fact that he suddenly brings prom up out of the blue, and then just so happens to 'randomly' list all the positives.

Not suspicious at all, Stiles.

"Because I'm trying to convince you."

"Ugh," I can't help but turn up my nose in disgust, "why?"