Teen Wolf: All Grown Up

43. Hyperventilated

The pace of life had sped up. What was usually cool, calm and calculated was now rushed, perhaps even poorly thought through. Everything I learned as a hunter had been turned on its head, perhaps that's why we were fighting a losing battle.

Here's an introduction to hunter strategy.

Step one: Observe. Why rush immediately into something with no idea what is there? Why try to kill a Kanima with wolfsbane? Know thy enemy...

Step two: Investigate. You know the V hand signal from star trek? Traditionally it meant something far different. What you see is all there is. However, this is false. If you judged everything from the surface you wouldn't notice the shark looming below. What's the motive? What's the drive? What's the advantage?

Step three: Manipulate. In the great race in Chinese legend, a rat should have never won. It's small, relatively weak compared to its opponents. Yet it won. How? It manipulated those around it into a false sense of security, when the time comes where the upper hand can be gained we take it.

We hadn't observed, the investigation was weak and no manipulation had taken place. If I were to be an emissary to Scott, I needed to advise him on how to manipulate those who disrupt the peace.

Quite the intense driving thoughts admittedly. I drove Issac to Allison and Chris to assist them, I needed to go with Stiles to investigate.

"I don't believe it, " Lydia said from her pink coated room, "Scott can't really be with them. He can't be."

"You didn't see the look on his face, though. It was..."

"Then what can I do?" Lydia interrupted me, "I mean, I get that I'm some kind of like, human Geiger counter for death. But I don't know how to turn it on and off yet. All I know is she tried to kill me because of..."

"Because of what?" Stiles questioned.

"Hey Lydia, what?" I chipped in.

"When she called me a banshee, she was surprised by it. What if that's not why she tried to kill me?"

A banshee, it made sense. I hadn't had much experience with them in all honesty. Most banshees were called insane, the voices in their heads came across like schizophrenia or at best multiple personality disorder. Which just made me more concerned for the girl, she would need guidance, I would need to find out more.

"Then why did she?"

"That's what we need to find out," I conclude.

The three of us went to the school in my four-by-four, the place where Jennifer has been based. 

We didn't have any other leads. The ride was really pleasant, Stiles passing me some gum forced a smirk from me. Unfortunately, Lydia Martin couldn't help but pick up on the exchange and start a long list of probing questions. The highlight being:

"Have you taken Stiles' virginity?"

She has quite a way of making the situation awkward, luckily, I'm not shy.

"Not yet."

After the huge gulp from Stiles, the ride was quite painless.

"Aiden isn't texting me back," Lydia stated in the hallways of beacon hills. "Well okay well maybe we could just go over there and..."

I didn't hear the rest of the conversation. I was too taken back by what I had seen on my phone screen.

"What?"

"Oh god, what is it now?" Stiles comforted me, his hand on my tense shoulder and his soft brown eyes attempting to connect with me.

"It's from Issac, Jennifer she..." I paused before collecting myself and continuing, "she has Allison's father, my uncle. She took him. She's got all three now."

I thought I was upset until I turned to Stiles; he was ghost-white. His eyes were searching for me a second ago. It was now more lost than I had ever seen them. His hand trembled on my shoulder before he pushed it away.

"There's still time we have time, right? Stiles, are you okay?" Lydia asked.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Stiles stumbled, his legs betraying his mind, "I think I'm having a panic attack," he declared, petrified.

Stiles being a control freak, now had lost even more control. I had never seen him so scared, not even in the face of death.

Lydia and I took Stiles' arms over our shoulders and guided him to the boys' locker room, me taking the brunt of Stiles' mass due to me being taller. His limbs seeming detached from any thought. He was frantic; he could barely string response together. We sat him down against a locker whilst he continued to freak out. He was breathing so quickly and I knew he couldn't control it.

"Stiles," I begged him, "you need to try and control your breathing.

"I can't, I can't," he gasped out.

I tried to hush Stiles, telling him to look at me. He finally found my eyes but was in such despair. He was still hyperventilating, his breath as fast as his thoughts.

He needed to slow down.

I kissed him.

A soft, well-placed kiss.

I put my hand on the side of his face, as the kiss remained.

He relaxed into the kiss and let a relaxed sigh through his nose. His lips pressed into my larger 

ones more adoringly, and his arms went around my neck as we enjoyed the embrace. I broke the kiss begrudgingly.

"How did you do that?" Stiles asked, admittedly looking cute. A sparkle in his eyes and a tiny 

smile forming on his face.

"I remember the first time I kissed you in my car," I confessed, holding his hands, "you held your breath until I stopped. I see it wasn't just a one-time thing."

"Thanks," he wells up a little and wraps his arms around me. I pull him close, cherishing this embrace.

I moved to sit behind Stiles, his back resting against my body. My arms wrapped around him. My head on his shoulder.

Whilst Stiles relaxed into my touch, Lydia checked him over quickly.

At one point, she looked at me and smiled. I remember that day at the ice rink, Lydia called it. She knew. I think she was genuinely happy that her friend had someone there for him. I will look after him.