Joan » S.Stilinski [1]

13 ; Idiots Gotta Stick Together

          Joan sat beside Brett, her eyes flipping through the small booklet Deaton had given her. She wasn't sure if the blade Garrett had used was laced with anything poisonous and by the look of pain on Brett's face she assumed it was.

          "Whatcha reading?" Brett choked out, craning his neck to look at the girl's book. Joan quickly closed it and stuffed it back into her bag before Brett could read it.

          "It's nothing, just a medical guide. You're cut is defiantly something I haven't seen before," Joan trailed off, staring at the wound before grabbing some gauze. "Hopefully the ambulance gets here soon. They'll probably know what to do." Her eyes moved back towards Brett's seeing at he was already looking at her.

          A blush creeped its way onto her cheeks the longer they maintained eye contact. Joan cleared her throat, shaking her head lightly at her stupidity. "You thirsty? You look like you could use some water. I'll– I'll be right back..." She quickly got up from her seat and left the locker room to grab a bottled water from the vending machine several feet down the hallway.

          She impatiently waited for the water bottles to fall from within the machine, looking back every now and again. Once she grabbed the water bottles she jogged back to the locker room, her steps slowing down when she saw the now unconscious men outside of the locker room. "Fudge, fudge, fudge!" Joan mumbled, bending down so whoever was in the locker room couldn't see her.

          She could just leave Brett to potentially die to make Stiles happy, but then again she didn't know if she'd be able to take on an assassin by herself. She had to try, right?

          Joan silently placed the water bottles on the floor before entering the locker room as stealthy as possible. She hurriedly grabbed a the first lacrosse stick she could find and ripped off the rubber cap from the bottom of the stick.

          Okay, Joan, she began to tell herself. You can do. Just do what defense class and Kira have taught you.

          Joan slowly walked her way out of the shadows right when Violet placed her thermo-cut wire around Brett's neck. "Hey, girly! Why don't you pick on someone you're own size," Joan called, trying to show a confident and powerful facade.

          Violet chuckled, loosening the thermo-wire around Brett's neck and turning towards Joan. "Oh, look what we have here! Someone's got a knight in shining arm with a lacrosse stick!"

          Joan glared at Violet, swinging the lacrosse stick by her side just like Kira had taught her. "Come at me, Bitch. Unless you're too scared of a human with a 'lacrosse stick'."

          The assassin, removed the wire from around Brett's neck causing him to breath in heavily with relief. Violet laughed, swinging her wire around menacingly. "Oh, it's on." Without hesitation Violet ran towards Joan, attempting to catch Joan with her wire. Joan quickly ducked beneath the wire before swinging the lacrosse stick at Violet's legs, successfully tripping her. The young assassin quickly stood up and discarded her wire and lifted her fist up into the air.

          Joan swung again, aiming for Violet's head. Instead of meeting her temple, Violet caught stick. The two pushed and tugged at the other, trying to get a hold of the stick. "Go!" Joan grunted at Brett, in hopes of him leaving the scene.

          Brett shook his head, attempting to painfully scramble to his feet. "You're crazy!" Joan shrugged, grunting as she continued to look at Violet square in the eyes. "Get help!" She ordered, beginning to feel Violet's strength getting control of the lacrosse stick. Joan could see Brett limping out of the locker room, sadly giving Violet the perfect opportunity to pull the stick from Joan's grip. 

          Violet tossed the stick across the room, a grin plastered upon her lips, "How 'bout we do this fairly... Shall we?" Joan slowly put up her fist, hoping she could remember how to throw a decent punch that would injure Violet in some way. 

          Violet threw the first punch at Joan's stomach, causing the girl to groan in pain. Joan quickly stood back up and threw a punch at Violet. The young assassin easily caught her arm and pulled her into a chokehold. Joan pulled on Violet's arm as she felt the young girl's grip tighten. Joan gasped, the need to breath becoming more and more apparent in her mind. 

          Violet quickly let Joan go before kicking her into the ground on her hands in knees. Joan breathed heavily, trying to regain her senses. As she recovered, Violet quickly grabbed her thermo-cut wire and began to walk behind Joan. 

          Another gasp left Joan's lips as she felt the wire pull her head back and tighten around her neck. A strangled scream left Joan's lips as Violet turned on her thermo-wire, feeling the wire tighten around her neck and sear her skin.

          Joan tried to grabbed ahold of the wire, but it was tightly wound around her neck. She could feel herself slowly going unconscious the longer oxygen didn't reach her brain. "See, this is why you don't get in our way. Thanks for the warm up, Joan," Violet hissed, tugging on the wire one last time before Joan was out cold.

»

          It's an interesting feel when you're in the midst of death. Joan wouldn't say that she was about to make her way to heaven, or if she was going to hell. She just felt like she was floating in darkness. She felt numb of any pain or emotion, almost like she was in a deep slumber.

          "Come on, Joan. Wake up. Please!" a muffled voice called within the darkness. Joan didn't want to move, she didn't want to reply, and she defiantly didn't want to open her eyes. She felt at peace in the darkness, but it didn't last longer. The longer and longer the voice continued to speak to her the more she began to feel the pain coursing through her body.

          The voice sighed, now ten times louder than they once were, "Joan, I know you can hear me. Please, just– just open your eyes..." The feeling of someone squeezing her hand became apparent the more she began to wake up.

          A soft groan left Joan's lips as she slowly opened her eyes, squinting at the bright light. 

           "Oh, thank God!" the voice explained, their smiling face appearing in front of Joan's line of vision.

          "Stiles?" Joan croaked, pain suddenly erupting throughout her body. Joan slowly tried to sit up, hissing in pain.

          "Hey, hey. Take it slow. You're in the hospital," Stiles explained. "Your parents are talking to Melissa. She doesn't want you using your voice for a bit."

          Joan shook her head, grimacing as Stiles helped her sit up, "Is Brett ok?"

          Stiles rolled his eyes, but nonetheless nodded, "Yeah, he's fine. Deaton's helping him at the clinic."

          The two sat in silence for several moment, Stiles' hand still wrapped around hers. It was a comfortable silence, just like it was back in Stiles' Jeep a while ago. It was nice and a defiant relief compared to the last couple of hours.

          "You're an idiot, you know that?" Stiles asks randomly, looking at Joan with a crooked smile.

          Joan shook her head, a large smile gracing her lips. She didn't know how to answer, seeing as she agreed with Stiles. She was an idiot for thinking she could go against Violet, but at least it saved someone's life. "I'm fully aware, Stilinski. I guess us idiots gotta stick together," Joan finally replied, squeezing Stiles' hand and not wanting to let go.