Scars

1

This has been based off a story on AO3

Started Editing all chapters on 9/23/16

Derek Pov: present

I walk into the living room to find my pack standing watching the news. The smell anxiety and fear sift through the air. "Why are you guys watching the news?" I ask as a take a sip of my water. Scott turns around with tears in the corner of his eyes. "Scott what's wrong?" He doesn't answer. I look down at his hands to see what he's holding. The emergency phone. "Why do you have that? Everyone is h....." No Stiles left this morning with is dad to visit his grandmother. I look to the tv.

"Eight cars crash into a bus, when the thieves of the downtown bank robbery in L.A. Flipped said bus. To make sure the cops didn't arrest or shoot them they took the survivors of the crash. The hostages were pushed into three vans. The cops have located the vans outside an abandoned factory. There is no clear view of the hostages or robbers, but police officials believe they are still inside." 

I stare at the tv in horror, I feel my glass slip from my finger and break at my feet. As the news caster reveals the events. I can see very clearly Stiles jeep crashed into the belly of a flipped car.
"The phone call came in ten minutes ago." Scott says. I only stare at the tv. "We recorded what he said." Say Lydia. Before I can tell her to play it, I can already hear his voice.

"Hello?" Stiles asks.
"Stiles?!" Say Scott
"Scott! Thank the lord! Buddy I need you to find me. You need to find me." Stiles voice is strong, but I can hear a hint of fear.
"What do you mean Stiles?"
"Turn on the news. Fuck! I have to go, their coming back! Find me!" With that the line goes dead.

Stiles Pov: present

How did I get my self here when I've been so prepared.

**

Over the six years and many battles I've help the Hale pack win, I've gathered some what most people would say deadly scars. But to me the scars are the sacrifices I've made to keep my pack, what no, my family alive.

Now I know what you're thinking. That's badass! But let me tell you it really isn't. I can no longer change in front of someone. I can no longer wake up in the morning and eat breakfast without my shirt on. And I most importantly can not tell my pack. Why you ask? Well over the year they have finally let me fight in the battles, and I can't risk that. If they knew how many times I get hurt they would lock me in the basement.

"Don't they know you get hurt?" Duhh... you asshat of course they know I get hurt. I just hide most of it, by saying I'm okay and walking away. But once I get to my jeep, where I'm alone; that's when I breakdown and cry in pain. Let just say I started to carry a first aid kit in my backpack.... and let's also say I carry a end of the world sized first aid kit in the back of my jeep.

I've become very handing at always being prepared. Not only, do I carry band ads in the back, but I have a cases full of silver bullets, and knifes also made of silver. Also bombs, grenades, and TNT, that all have wolfs bane laced into it. Along with a 22. In three clear bottles is wolfsbane, mistletoe, and mountain ash. Lastly 2,000 thousand dollars. The contents are held in a 12 digit locked mountain ash wood case, the handle is made of silver; so no supernatural created can get into it. Everything was given to me by Deaton and Chris Argent. Along with the the case I have a 72 hour kit. You have know idea how many times we've been stock in the woods or desert for more then one day.

Now for me to be personally to be prepared I carry two of everything. Allowing me to have one in my car and one in my backpack. I carry an extra bottle of Adderall, Advil, and I hate to say this a packet of cigarettes( I'll explain later). A flashlight because I don't have wolfie vision. Four lighters, two in my car, one in my pocket, and one in my bag. Extra batteries, Candles(don't ask me why....Okay I'll tell you, witches.). A sewing kit, and phone chargers.

Now let's move onto my weapons. There is one weapon that I use the most. It looks like a normal lacrosse stick. But the paint on the metal has mountain ash, wolfs bane, mistletoe mixed in. The metal is made out of pure silver, making no supernatural created able to hold it let alone fight with it. In the middle of the shaft is a button. When pushed the whole thing extends a foot. At the very end is a foot long silver blade. Now let me tell you the blade is sharper than it looks. The first time I touched I cut my finger and had to get ten stitches, leaving a scar on my finger. So it is very safe to say that it's clear my weapon of choice is sharp.

Now Derek wanted me to have more than one weapon. So along with my lacrosse stick I have two bats, one silver, and one wooden one. Also with that I have a butterfly knife. Which I don't us as much. It scares me.

So with how hard I've trained and prepared, I asking my self, "HOW IN THE BLOODY NAME OF HELL DID I GET MYSELF INTO THIS MESS!!"

****
Present

Beaten and bruised. Leaning against an old cargos create next to my father surrounded by 12 other hostages and 8 robbers. My breathing coming in shallow and sharp. "You okay son?" My dad touches my shoulder gently. I turn my head to look at him. His face resembles my own. A bleeding cut under his right eye, cut lip, and a bruise forming on his left cheek. "Dad will be okay, everything will be okay." I pat my dad on the knee. Looking around every hostage was beaten, even the women. Two children sit in the middle holding onto each other. The girls watched their mothers die on the flipped bus.

I have a feeling we aren't going to be okay.