Aphelion ⎯⎯⎯⎯ Stiles Stilinski

20.) People Can't Stop Talking Behind My Back

@Xᴀɴ_Tʜɪᴘᴘʏ

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playιng: [Lᴏsɪɴɢ Bʟᴏᴏᴅ] - [Wᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀs]

     The usual exodus from Beacon Hills High had only just begun when it was even further clogged up with what seemed to be the first stage of the zombie apocalypse. Stiles' dad always joked that he'd run someone over some day if he didn't learn to be a more careful driver. Obviously Stiles had always assumed that he was just being an overdramatic parent, until he had to slam on the brakes in the school parking lot to avoid killing someone. Someone who already looked well on their way to being dead.

     "Oh, my God," Stiles yelled, hopping out of his Jeep. Devereaux was right beside him, leaving the passenger's side door wide open.

     "Oh, no no no– no, not here!" Scott said, running over from the bike rack. Allison could not see him and Derek together, not after he'd told her that he didn't know him. Beside his own problems, Derek was a startling shade of gray. He needed to leave before any concerned students started calling for ambulances.

     "You've gotta be kidding me," Stiles groaned, hands already scraping over his hair, "This guy's everywhere-"

     "What the hell?" Scott began to whisper, "What are you doing here?"

     "I was shot," Derek said. Dev began to anxiously scan the parking lot for his sister. If she were nearby, it was only a matter of time before she sensed the injury and ran over. A creepy stranger with a gunshot wound begging teenagers for help wasn't the best introduction to their werewolf secret. Between the ten different crime based explanations and Scott being a werewolf, there was no way Pippa would believe them. Luckily, she wasn't anywhere to be seen, probably in the gym for cheer practice.

     "He's not looking so good, dude," Stiles said, not seeming to notice how unhelpful his observation was.

     "I think he looks very handsome for someone on the brink of death," Dev said. He didn't particularly care about being helpful either. Maybe if Scott bothered to show some gratitude, he'd feel different.

     "Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked.

     "I can't," Derek panted, "It was- it was a different kind of bullet,"

     "A silver bullet?" Stiles asked, not bothering to hide his excitement.

     "No, you idiot," Derek said, with a shocking amount of attitude for someone who needed a favor.

     "Hey don't judge us for the media's apparently inaccurate portrayal of werewolves," Dev defended. Stiles gave him a grateful nod, but Scott turned over his shoulder to glare at the two. Dev held in his eye roll until Scott turned back around.

     "Wait, wait. That's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours," Scott said, as if he had just solved some great mystery.

     "What else could she have possibly meant after shooting him?" Dev questioned, though it was ignored.

     "What? Who- who said 48 hours?" Derek asked, struggling to sit up and glare at Scott. It was almost like he was well again. Except for the pallid color of his face.