thelxiepeia | s.stilinski

chapter twenty four

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*2.12 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

'brilliant, he's gonna be like a flying monkey from the wizard of oz... if the monkey was a lizard and paralysed and killed people. just perfect.'

✧༺♥༻✧

Lottie stood on the bleachers, clutching a lump of Noah Stilinski's jacket in one hand and Lydia's hand in the other. The sound of hushed panic echoed in the darkness whilst Lottie silently called out to Scott. She knew his priority right now was his mother, as it should be. Lottie reached over to where Melissa was but only clutched air. She'd moved.

"Guys. We need to move slowly. Carefully down to the field." Lottie told Lydia and Stilinski. They grasped Lottie's hands and slowly made their way down to the pitch where they heard Scott and Melissa.

"I'm fine--I'm fine. But someone's hurt. Someone on the field." Melissa reassured Scott when the stadium lights crackled to life and lit up the pitch. Immediately Lottie's eyes scanned the field, looking for one person and one person only. That's when the panic started. Jackson was laying in the middle of the field, not breathing and covered in blood - his own blood. Lydia let go of Lottie's hand and ran over to him whilst Lottie stayed with Stilinski still too distracted by a painful absence that wasn't going away.

"Look." Scott instructed Melissa who was crouched next to Jackson and Isaac who had just made his way over. He pointed at Jackson's hand, it was covered in blood.

"He did it to himself?" Isaac asked as Melissa began chest compressions on Jackson.

"Where is my son?" Stilinski called out. In all the madness nobody except Sheriff Stilinski and Lottie had noticed who had gone missing. Stiles was gone.

"Where is Stiles?" Lottie asked calmly, looking directly at Scott and Isaac, who both gulped at the eerie look on her face. If they didn't find Stiles soon, they had a feeling all of Beacon Hills would know about it.

"Where's Stiles? Where the hell's my son?" Stilinski shouted, desperate for answers. He began to step into his Sheriff role and started questioning people, his hands shaking as he was visibly distracted. "I have to meet the medical examiner and figure out what happened with Jackson, but I've got an A-P-B out for Stiles. His Jeep's still in the parking lot, which means... well, I don't know what it means. If he answers his phone or email or if any of you see him–"

"Noah. We'll find him okay. It'll be okay. Look he probably just got nervous about all the attention and ran off." Lottie tried to remain calm for Stilinski's sake, knowing that the second he was out of earshot, she was going to tear the world apart trying to find Stiles.

"Little Lotts, I wish I could believe that, but I  know he wouldn't leave without you." Stilinski sighed as he took his notepad out. "Look, just tell me if or as soon as you hear anything. Love you Little."

"Of course. Love you too, Papa S." Lottie smiled sadly before turning away from the older man and dropping her smile instantly as she made her way over to the two teenage werewolves in the locker room. They gulped and glanced at each other, almost pleading with each other to be the one to deal with Lottie. "So tell me you have a plan or I'm going to tear everything and everyone apart until I get him back. And I don't mean that in a figurative sense, I mean that in the literal sense." She almost growled at them.

"McCall, we need you on the team, okay? You know I can't put you back on the field next season unless your grades are up." Coach interrupted as Lottie silently fumed, now was not the time for a pep talk. Not about lacrosse. "I mean I yell and scream a lot but it's not like I hate you guys. Well, I kind of hate Greenberg, but that's different. I'm just saying we need you. Get your grades up, okay? Get back on the team."