Uniquely Normal

Frayed

A/N: Be sure to read the author's note at the end!

Coach blew his whistle as he turned around after looking out the front window of the bus. "Back to your seat!"

Scott leaned his head against the window while Stiles swiped through the tablet beside him.

Stiles looked up to see Scott closing his eyes, slightly wincing.

"Yo, Scotty." He said, snapping his fingers. "Hey, yo, Scotty. Still with me?"

Scott groggily day up and shook his head. "Yeah, sorry. Uh, what's the word?"

"Anachronism." Stiles read.

"Something that exists out of its normal time." Scott answered.

"Nice! Next word..." Stiles said as he swiped. "Incongruous."

"Um..." Scott squinted his eyes as he thought. "Can you use it in a sentence?"

"Yes, yes I can." Stiles said, sarcasm already dripping off his tongue. "It's completely incongruous that we're sitting on a bus right now, on our way to some stupid cross-country meet after what just happened. Incongruous."

Scott sighed. "Out of place. Ridiculous, absurd."

"Perfect." Stiles complimented. "Okay, next word. Um, Darach. Darach, it's a noun."

Scott turned and give him a look.

"We have to talk about it sometime, okay?" Stiles insisted. "And we're gonna be stuck in this thing for, like, five hours, so why not?"

Scott sighed and leaned his head back against the window. Stiles pursed his lips, and looked ahead of him to see the empty seat in front of them; the seat where [y/n] would be sitting if Stiles didn't insist she stay home to mourn her father.

"Okay, next word." Stiles moved on. "Intransigent."

"Stubborn, obstinate." Scott answered.

The bus hit a speed bump, causing the students to jolt in their seats. Scott winced and tightly shut his eyes in pain.

"Oh, buddy, you okay?" Stiles asked.

Scott didn't answer. He leaned his head against the window, and breathed heavily as he tried to subdue the pain coursing through him.

"We shouldn't have come." Stiles concluded. "I knew it. We shouldn't have come."

"We had to." Scott insisted. "There's safety in numbers."

"Yeah, well, there's also death in numbers, okay?" Stiles argued. "It's called a massacre."

He looked back to the tablet and swiped, but looked back up when he heard his best friend groan.

"Alright, Scott, I'm telling coach that-" he began to stand up but Scott grabbed his arm, pulling him back down.

"No, no, no, no." He pleaded. "I'm alright."

"Well, you don't look alright." Stiles said, shifting his eyes to Scott's torso. "Would you just let me see it?"

Stiles moved to lift Scott's shirt, but Scott pushed him back.

"I'm okay." He insisted.

"Just let me see it, okay?" Stiles asked.

Scott nodded. "Okay."

Scott slowly moved in his seat to turn his body towards Stiles, and lifted his shirt to revealed huge slash marks on his side, running up to the middle of his chest. Dried blood surrounded it, and Stiles grimaced.