*ARCHIVED* Truth Or Dare (Sciles | Dark Descent, Book 1)

Chapter 11

FEBRUARY 14, 2016
SUNDAY
1:10 A.M.

    Stiles couldn't bear to be alone any longer. It felt like it'd been hours. He knew it had only been maybe an hour, but it seemed to be much longer. After Derek had stabbed Allison, Stiles and Scott had sat back down in defeated silence. Minutes later, Derek had thrown his hands up in frustration, declaring that dinner had been ruined, and ordered Laura to clean up Scott and Allison and return the three of them to their bedrooms. Laura had led Stiles into his and Scott's bedroom. Stiles heard her tell Scott and Allison to get into the bathroom before she closed the door behind him. Once again, she didn't lock the door. He'd thrown himself down onto his bed, suddenly exhausted, and he didn't move until the door opened again and Scott was shoved inside, his cheek bandaged and face cleaned of blood. Laura locked the door this time.

    He just shook his head at Stiles when he'd opened his mouth to speak. He obviously didn't want to talk, so Stiles simply watched him as he climbed into his own bed, rolled over to face the wall, and pulled the covers over his head. After several minutes of staring at Scott's back, Scott pushed the covers to his waist and rolled over onto his back.

    "We have to get out of here," he stated quietly. "I'm going to do what they say, for now, at least. So they don't hurt you or Allison."

    "We'll get through this," Stiles said, sounding entirely unconvincing. Scott didn't reply. Stiles looked over to see that he had fallen asleep.

    Stiles closed his eyes and tried to do the same, but sleep wouldn't come to him. He spent hours lying there, thinking, eyes burning with exhaustion. He couldn't stop wondering how they were going to survive this. How could they possibly win against two sadistic vampires, locked away in a house that was who-knew-where? Why did Derek need leverage? What did he want from Stiles that was so bad he felt he had to threaten the ones he loved to get it? He assumed his father and the rest of the Beacon Hills police department were already looking for them, but would they find them? And if they did, would they survive? Now, sick of repeating these questions in his head, Stiles sighed and rotated onto his side to look at Scott.

    Scott was still on his back, the white blankets tangled in his legs. Stiles watched his chest rise and fall slowly. He looked worn and sick, even in sleep. Stiles wanted to go slide into bed beside him, hold him in his arms. Feel his warmth and breathe in the scent of him. He knew that he couldn't, and he also knew that he wouldn't feel okay again until he did. It was just so wrong to want it so badly, especially now, when Allison was just down the hall from them. He couldn't betray her like that again, not when it might be the last thing he'd ever do to her.

    But he wanted Scott so intensely in that moment that his eyes burned with tears instead of exhaustion. Scott was the last thing he saw, the only thing he wanted to see, before he finally fell asleep.

FEBRUARY 14, 2016
SUNDAY
12:04 P.M.

    A loud bang woke Stiles up. He shot into a sitting position. Laura stood in the doorway. Stiles scrambled to his feet. Beside him, Scott did the same. They both swayed slightly with grogginess.

    "Derek wants to see you downstairs," she said, and then disappeared from the doorway in a wave of brown hair.

    Scott and Stiles looked at each other and silently went downstairs. Derek sat at the head of the dining table, eyes fixed expectantly on the staircase. Allison sat in the same chair as the night before, her injured hand wrapped in a bandage. Blood was seeping through it. Laura was nowhere to be seen. Stiles sat down at the foot of the table and Scott beside Allison.