Monsters | Stiles Stilinski

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕𝟓

"TALK TO ME, ALEX."

The words reverberated in my skull like a broken record player — on a continuous loop. They sounded like words that had come from an alternative reality but it was just me who was a million miles away, the defences in my head so high the words had to fight to get through ... and even when they did, they didn't take my full attention. I felt as if I were dreaming, or highly sedated ... barely living but the fall back into reality was harsh.

I clung to the handle above my head in his FJ Cruiser and glanced sideways to him. He was driving, so his attention was mainly focused on the road but upon feeling my gaze on him, he glanced over at me promptly. His eyes lingered for some few seconds, no longer than five, but it was enough for me to read the great level of concern in his irises.

I shrugged after a few more minutes, "I don't know what you want me to say."

What was there to say? I felt like a walking zombie, my thoughts were a million miles away — conjuring every possible scenario as to how we could fail ... as to how I could lose Stiles. My body ached and my eyes burnt and deep down, though I had no intention of eating, my body screamed for food. I couldn't think as to when the last time I'd physically eaten, it was that bad. A combination of the fact I couldn't bring myself to do so due to the overwhelming — anxiety induced — nausea and the sheer fact that I didn't have the time.

"Anything." Derek responded quickly, "I'm struggling to decipher your chemo signals. I need words."

I nodded once, "Shit." I said to him, "There's a word."

"We're gonna do everything we can." He assured me, "You know that, don't you?"

I shook my head in a no, "I don't trust Christ Argent."

Derek was quiet though a deep sigh pooled from his lips. It sounded like he'd been holding it at bay for sometime. After a while, I glanced at him and saw his jaw clenched, "No." Was all he said.

While it sounded contradictory, I knew that was his way of agreeing with me. Back in the Sheriff's office there was something about Chris' demeanour that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I wasn't sure if I was reading into it too much, then again, it wasn't like you could blame me. His sister was nothing short of a psychopath who had burned my mother, my family and their home to the ground. His wife had taken matters into her own hands, a perpetrator of attempted murder against a sixteen year old boy and his father... well, there wasn't enough words in this world to define Gerard Argent.

The Argent family were dangerous — each and every one of them had been hardwired into killing werewolves and other creatures alike. To me, you could renounce your beliefs but if the time came it was easy to slip back into old habits.

I was almost willing to bet that Chris Argent had conjured up a secret plan of his own, one that ended with both
Stiles and the Nogitsune dead. Though it didn't matter how much I longed for the Nogitsune to be stopped and to be out of our lives, Hell would freeze over before I would let anything happen to Stiles.

"We have to be cautious around him." I concluded as Derek turned into their apartment complex.

He nodded, pulling into a space before he turned his attention to me fully, "I know."

I looked at him firmly and I hoped my gaze expressed how serious I was about my next words, "I won't let anything happen to Stiles, Derek."

A short sigh emitted from Derek then — a knowing sigh, one that depicted he knew how resolute my words were. He nodded his head again and reached for the door handle as he said, "I know."

I was satisfied that he knew how serious I was about this but all I had to do now was instil that same seriousness upon Chris Argent. I didn't even want to turn Stiles into a werewolf. If there was any other way of separating him for the Nogitsune I'd push it — no matter how hard it was.