My True Pack.

Chapter 5

Scott McCall's Point of View.

I stood in horror of what my best friend had become. His smirk wasn't any normal smirk, his eyes were dead but his smirk was alive. It wad almost as he was...insane.

"Many things happened in the Scorch as Peter told you. You have no idea." He said in a dead tone.

"I have some idea." I replied forgetting about everyone else.

He laughed. "He smelled me, didn't he? He smelled my feelings just like you are now. So, tell me Scott, what am I feeling?"

I smelled the air. Anger and hate was all I could get. And a pinch of guilt.

"You're hateful, guilty and angry." I answered.

He clapped his hands. "Good job, doggie. Good job, indeed. Now, let me tell you a little bit about me." He walked towards me with the same smirk.

I felt powerless, I felt weak, I felt a nobody.

He stood right in front of me. He then got closer to me. And smiled. "I killed many, and I only regret one. Just one."

"Newt." I breathed and he looked at me, surprised about the answer.

"Yes, him. I regret that decision everyday. But we all had to do some things to survive, sadly, it was me or him. The answer is right in front of you." He was walking to his friends.

I stood up, throwing my chair away. "He was someone close to you and you killed him! Murderer!"

He stopped in his tracks and the next thing I know, I'm pinned to the wall, with two hands choking me. "Never. Never speak of Newt's death again, did you hear me?! You never met him and you weren't there when everything happened. You don't have any rights to speak about me that way! I did what was right to protect the rest of my friends. You lost Aiden and Allison, you couldn't protect your pack!"

I would had answer if I wasn't being choked. Instead, I tried to get him away from me but failing.

"Shank! Yo, Thomas. Calm down!" Some arms stopped Stiles from killing me.

I looked at Minho that was holding a raging Stiles. His breathing was heavy and he was red. "Read the note." Minho ordered.

"I'm going to kill yo--."

"Read the goddamn note, Thomas! You shank, read it!" Minho yelled at him.

Stiles sighed and took something from his pocket. It was two pieces of paper folded carefully next to what it seemed a little dummy made of wood. Stiles held in one of his hands the pieces of paper and in the other the dummy made of wood. He sighed finally calming himself down.

"There you go, Thomas. Remember, Newt and Chuck wouldn't like to see you like this." Minho patted Stile's shoulder.

"They're gone because of me Minho. Everyone died because of me. And this slinthead is accusing me of murder, this slinthead is accusing me of being a bad friend." Stiles huffed.

"I knew Newt and Chuck way before than you. And it hurts me too, but you don't see me trying to kill someone." Minho explained.

"First, Chucks death you weren't in the floor, crying, yelling and hoping that he would wake up but never did. Second, you weren't there to see how Newt begged me for his death, all the horrible screams and the same word. 'It's all your fault'. He didn't beg you for you to kill him. You didn't kill him." Stiles went to his seat.

Minho rolled his eyes. "But I didn't sleep when Ben got banished, he was my friend. When Alby died trying to gain us some time from the Grievers, I stood in silent because we lost our leader and a good friend too. One of the first to arrive to the Glade."

Mr. Yukimura looked shocked and surprised, my dad as well but Brenda looked bored, like if me getting killed wasn't so important. I touched my neck, feeling sore and bruised. Stiles was no longer defenceless or weak. He was strong and protective.

"Mr. Thomas, Mr. Minho and Ms. Brenda, we know your situation, we know that you have Post Traumatic-Stress Disorder and that is difficult to come back to civilisation but bear with us today." Mr. Yukimura said.

"We know, alright? We're traumatized, we're fucked up and will never be right on our mind. But that doesn't mean we're not stupid. Our PTSD or whatever you said it's not from the Scorch or the Maze, it's from this slinthead." Minho pointed at me.

"Have you ever met Mr. McCall?" Mr. Yukimura asked.

"I once did. And I knew that girl right there." Stiles pointed at Lydia.

He then laughed. "They left me in the dust, took me for dead. Didn't even search for me. She might not deserve what's coming. But he surely as hell does."

My dad looked at Stiles. "Thomas, I swear if--"

"If I what? If I touch your little angel, what are you going to do? Torture me? I already been. Take me to prison? I have been for years. Kill me? I would hope so. Tell me, Agent. What would you do?"

My dad stood there. Without saying a word. "I think I did wrong about letting you stay in school." He finally said.

"Listen, I'm sorry, alrigh'? I snapped and attacked your son and I shouldn't. But if you're thinking on banishing us to the Scorch again, I swear not only your son but your ex-wife will suffer." Stiles scoffed.

"Thomas, what's wrong? You left normal, you wouldn't threat anyone before. Newt, Alby and Chu--." Minho was interrupted.

"Those shanks are gone. For the better. Alby was an idiot that thought that could fight a freakin' griever, Chuck made his own choice and Newt...Newt died because he begged me to. He was weak." He spat the words out.

Minho got up and went to Stiles's seat. "Listen to me, slinthead, those men and boy gave their lives for us and for you. Alby tried to fight the griever to gain some time for us, Chuck saved your little klunked ass from being knifed. And Newt, he saved us from himself. Something you wouldn't be able to do. Now tell me, shank, what's wrong with you?!" And punched him hard in the face.

Stiles's eyes softened and he gasped for air. He fell into Minho's arms. "Mi-Minho, they're here. The never left!" He cried into his arms.

"Who? Who never left?" Minho asked.

Stiles cried harder. "The men! They're controlling me again! I never meant to choke Scott, I never meant to trash-talk Alby, Chuck and Newt. They're controlling me like in Denver."

Minho was confused. "How? The doctor took your chip out. He took mine as well, they can't control you."

"They are! They're in my head. Do you really think I want to cry in front of all this shuckfaces?! I can't control this!"

"Gosh, what now?" Brenda said.

Mr. Yukimura looked very concerned. "Who's controlling him? What's happening?"

Minho ignored his question and looked at my dad. "Contact Jorge, we need him. We need answers that you can't provide."

"I may be able to arrange that." My dad left with his phone in his hand.

Brenda looked at Stiles in the eyes. "You'll be fine, you have been through hell, you'll be able to fight this."

Stiles started to breath heavily, his heartbeat was quicker by the second, sweat was all over his body. He looked at Brenda and sighed.

"Newt...alive...W.I.C.K.E.D" He fell unconciously to the floor.

Brends catched him and gave a worried look at Minho. "Did you hear that?"

He nodded. "Whatever it is, it's not good."

She looked at the unconcious boy. "W.I.C.K.E.D has found us again, and this time, Newt is not here to help him."

Minho grabbed Stiles's backpack and looked at Brenda. "Fuck that, we need to find those slintheads before Thomas tries to kill someone."

Brenda sighed. "To the Scorch?"

Minho sighed. "To the Scorch."