The McCall Pack; A Teen Wolf Fanfiction

More Bad Than Good

Y/n's POV

"Here's where we found the den. It's right in the middle of the hiking trails," Stiles pointed out and showed me a map on his phone. 

"Well, that could narrow it down. Coyotes travel in fixed trails, but I think you're right about her not going back to the den. Coyotes don't like wolves, and they're really smart. If they don't want to be heard, they actually walk on their toes," I inform him as the bell rang. "Okay. I'll show this to Allison after class. Then we can figure out a plan."

 "All right, everyone. Let's get started. We were just talking about internment camps and prisoners of war," Mr. Yukimura announced. "There's a passage in our reading that I'd like to go over in more detail. Who would like to come up and read aloud for us? Mr. Stilinski, how about you?"

"Oh, maybe someone else could," Stiles suggested.

"Everyone participates in my class, Mr. Stilinski," Mr. Yukimura stated.

"Hey. Just take a deep breath and focus," I tell Stiles. "That's what helps me when the ghosts are around. I'm sure it can help you too."

"Okay. Thanks," Stiles breathed out and went up to the podium. When he got up there though, he didn't start to read. I could see him squinting at the pages, but when he couldn't seem to see what they were saying, his breathing got heavy.

"Mr. Yukimura, Stiles wasn't feeling too good today, so I'm gonna take him to the nurse's office," I put forth and walk over to Stiles, wrapping my arm around him. "Sorry about the interruption."

Mr. Yukimura waved me off. "You're good. I hope you feel better, Mr. Stilinski."

"Hey, Stiles, look at me," I instruct once I got him into the hallway. "Is this a panic attack? I mean, I can kiss you again, but I feel like that'd be a little awkward."

"It's a dream, it's a dream. This is just a dream," Stiles repeated over and over to himself.

"No, it's not," I oppose. "This is real, Stiles. You're here. You're here with me. How do you tell
if you're awake or dreaming?"

"Your fingers...You count your fingers. You have extra fingers in dreams," Stiles disclosed.

"How many do I have? Hey! Look at me. Come on, Stiles. Look at my hands and count," I urge. 

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten," Stiles counted off.

"Right. I have ten fingers. This is all real. Now just take a deep breath," I murmur and squeeze his shoulder softly.

"What the hell is happening to me?" Stiles whispered.

"We'll figure it out. You're going to be okay," I assure him.

"Am I? Are you?" Stiles countered. "Y/n, you see ghosts everywhere, okay? That's not normal. Not even a little bit. Scott can't transform, Allison's being haunted by her dead aunt, and I'm straight up losing my mind. We can't do this. We can't help Malia. We can't help anyone."

"We can try. We can always try," I remind him.

......................................

"Xylazine. It's a tranquilizer for horses," Deaton revealed. "For a werecoyote, expect it to work within seconds. I only have three though, so whoever's shooting, needs to be a damn good shot."