Wolf Coach - Teen Wolf AU

Chapter 3

A/N: I edited the last chapter because I realised I skip it over in my planning. Bobby had actually seen Peter's face, he just doesn't know who he is.

Bobby couldn't remember the last time he woke up in the woods looking like a homeless man. He usually had enough control to keep his clothes from tearing. Now they were hanging much too loose on his frame and split half way along the threads that had once held it together.

Bobby sat up with a groan, twigs digging into his backside and cold mud making his skin break into goosebumps. He shuddered. Pulling his falling-apart jacket closer around him, he took in his surrounds, the sound of the rushing river telling him he had ran quite far away from his car. He was probably only a mile or two away from the Hale property.

The sound of soft breathing caught his attention, turning his head to the curled up Stilinski a few feet away from him. Bobby scrambled to his feet, panic making him sweat as he realized Stiles knew. He knew without a doubt what Bobby was now. Sure, no one would probably believe him, but Stiles had a gun in his hand last night.

He either knew about the other Alpha, or that bullet was meant for him.

Tentatively, he approached the young boy, hands shaky as he checked his pulse. Still there, beating strong. He was just a bit cold it seemed. When Bobby pulled his hand back, he smelt the dried blood on his fingers before he saw it.

"Shit. No, fuck, shit, no." He pulled back the boys hoodie, the boy barely stirring as he looked down in horror at the teeth marks along the boys nape. They weren't deep, barely sinking past the pale skin, but they were there.

There was a chance Stiles would be turned.

I've completely ruined his life like Brad ruined mine.

Bobby wanted to howl - when had tears become not enough for him? - in regret. Sure, Stiles was a pain in his ass and fuckin' weird, but he was his student. Duty of care had been instilled into him ever since he became a Economics teacher.

Bobby hung his head low, running frustrated hands through his hair. He ruffed his own hair with a growl before he pushed his hands underneath the boy, lifting him up in his arms. He had to give the kid some sort of comforts before he possibly turned. So, he walked along the forest floor, bare foot and dirty, to place Stilinski in the backseat of his crappy blue jeep.

He had things to do, he realised, as the sun began to peak through the trees. So he closed the door behind Stiles' body and walked to his car to drive home. He wouldn't be able to know if Stiles had turned until school Monday anyway. He needed new clothes, a long nap and lots of coffee. After that, he had to investigate the new feral alpha in the area. He wouldn't kill him - he couldn't. But he knew who could and he would give the guy hints to his new enemy in Beacon Hills if necessary.

🐾🐾🐾

Stiles walked into school Monday, still thinking over the events of the full moon.

Coach had saved him. He saved Coach too. He wondered if that would change their relationship in any way? Probably not. Coach Finstock was still a werewolf, whether he liked it or not (which he did not). Yet, he saved Stiles. He seemed aware of his surroundings unlike the feral beast he shot, even when he turned into one himself, though quite a bit smaller.

Maybe Coach wasn't the bad guy in this situation. Maybe he was the good guy, like Scott said when Stiles told him about everything the next morning. The Alpha that tried to kill him though? Not good. Very bad. Very, very bad dog. And he happened to shoot it, no doubt pissing it off.