ᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ - ꜱᴛɪʟᴇꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟɪɴꜱᴋɪ

𝟙𝟝

It all happened so fast.

The bartender strode forward, giving Scott - who had managed to catch Sam before he hit the floor, and Stiles - who had frozen in panic, an apologetic glance.

"Is he alright? I can take him over there, maybe find him some water to get him sober."

He reached for the unconscious boy but stopped as Scott gripped his wrist, able to smell the weird chemicals wafting off of the glass where the drink had been.

It was similar to the drug they gave pets at the clinic before surgery - although this was a much stronger dose. If Sam got lucky, he'd only be out for a day, minimum.

"I think we're okay."

"No, no, I insist." The man smiled, a hit of annoyance shining through his facade.

"No. Thanks," Scott growled, using his werewolf strength to shove the older man away as he flashed his eyes ever so slightly, showing the dim yellow.

The bartender stumbled back, holding up his hands as his eyes widened. "Woah woah, alright, dude."

Stiles finally stepped out of his trance, hurridly turning to Sam and gently grabbing his face, searching for any sign the boy was going to wake up - simultaneously pushing the kiss to the very back of his mind.

Scott looked over at Sam and then towards where he had seen Danny, sighing in relief as he caught sight of the boy again.

"I can still see Danny," He looked towards Stiles, a silent agreement coming over them. "If you need anything, just shout; I'll hear you."

Scott started to push through the crowd towards the boy, his steps slowing as he saw the Kanima slowly crawling across the ceiling. He flicked his claws out, narrowing his eyes.

Meters away, Stiles lifted Sam, exhaling as he heard the boy murmur under his breath - a sign of life.

"Come on, Sam." He muttered, slinging Sam's arm over his shoulder as he began to walk towards the exit at a slow pace, very much struggling to keep the boy up.

Just as they were about to exit, Stiles heard a cry of pain, then a few more shouts and gasps of horror as bodies began to drop.

He heard the Kanima hiss loudly, then saw it as it quickly crawled away on the ceiling, partially clouded with the special effects smoke.

Stiles turned away, hurriedly opening the door as the hoard of terrified people came closer. He managed to make it a few steps out before ducking into a corner outside; their bodies smushed together as waves of people came stumbling out of the door.

Sam's body slumped into him, the boy incoherently mumbling into his shoulder, lighting his body on fire as he tried to fight the blush rising on his cheeks.

As the wave slowed, he helped Sam upright again, almost dragging him to the balcony as he gazed down, looking for Scott.

Luckily the boy was right there, although - less luckily - unconscious on the ground next to him was Jackson, surrounded in a pool of his own blood.

***

Scott helped Sam into the car, brushing aside the fact that the boy was waking up already, and it had only been 20 minutes tops since he was drugged.

It was a miracle, or it was supernatural. Scott was very much betting on the latter. But he was glad the boy was okay. He didn't know what he would do if he ever saw that bartender again, but it wouldn't be good.

He hefted Jackson in after, doing his best to wipe the blood off his hands. He looked over at his best friend, nudging him as he saw the saddened look on Stiles' face.