After a deadly battle with darkness. Stiles suffers mortal wounds. Despite Stiles wanting to die as a human, unable to live life without his best friend Scott bites him.
At first it doesn't look like its had that much affect other than to save his...
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"Stiles" His father sighed as Stiles once again refused to come out of his room.
"You didn't see me dad" Stiles mumbled.
"I wouldn't care and I'm pretty sure your friends don't either" His father said firmly
"You didn't hear what I said" Stiles groaned, again refusing to come out, his door shut tight.
Stiles leaned against his desk with crossed arms, his head throbbed painfully as he thought back to that night. Why couldn't he have forgotten it? It would have been better. Better than the looks everybody had been sending him after. Especially Scott.
Whats worse is what he felt.
What Deaton said was true, he had gotten stronger after the full moon. He felt good. It felt amazing. He could feel it now, flowing through his veins, power... And he hated it. Why did something that was ruining his life have to feel sogood?
He looked at his text messages, wincing at the amount of texts and calls he'd ignored, most of them from Scott. But still quite a lot from Kira and Lydia.
Lydia's texting had started from comforting to angry, eventually telling him to get of his ass. Kira's was soothing, cute and so nice Stiles couldn't bare to read them. Scott's seemed sad and understanding, urgh, he hated understanding. Why when he was a complete ass the only person that wanted to shout at him was, well himself?
Liam hadn't text him. Stiles wasn't surprised after what he'd said to him on the full moon. But it made him feel a little better that maybe someone was angry at him, though it didn't help Liam never text him anyway so it could just be Liam was just acting as if it never happened. Stiles hoped not...
He hated how everything he had said, a part of him, no matter how deep had wanted to say it. A part of him that was still with him now, that was telling him he'd had every right to say what he did and shouldn't feel guilty for it. But he did feel guilty, so, so guilty.
Guilty enough to be hiding like a coward in his room, not ready to face them. Not ready to face anyone.
"Stiles" His father said, sounding resigned.
He tensed though as their front door knocked, hard. One, twice, three times. His father went to answer it but with his newly advanced senses Stiles could already tell who it was. Her smell, the tap of her hills against the floor and her perfume he could smell from where he was. Lydia.
"Dad, don't answer-" Stiles tried to plead.
His father ignored him.
"Where is he?" Lydia demanded from the door as soon as it opened.
"Sulking in his room" His father said dryly.
"Stiles!" Lydia shouted, storming up the stairs.
He just covered his head in his hands, readying himself the wrath of Lydia. She opened his door, to see him bending over his desk, head in hands.
"Go away" He said, his voice muffled.
"You can't hide up in your room forever" Lydia said, her voice more gentle this time.
Stiles had a childish urge to say watch me and stick out his tong at her.
She walked up to him, he didn't look up at her. His head to bent down for her to see his expression.
"They don't blame you-" Lydia started to say but she was interrupted.
Stiles head snapped up to look at her as he growled "I don't care! Okay?! I blame me!"
This was around 1000 words but I cut the chapter in half because I thought it flowed better this way, that's why its shorter. The next chapter should be out very soon. Hope you all are having a great day!
