Teen Wolf Imagines (Requests Closed)

One Condition - Chris Argent

You pulled your jeep to a stop in front of the Argent house, turned off the engine and leaned your head back against your seat. You laid a hand against your definitely bruised ribs and sucked in an experimental breath. Pain flared through you causing you to grimace. Tonight was supposed to be a simple, relaxing night off from all the supernatural shit. The entire pack decided it was needed. Even Stiles had agreed to set aside the research for one night.

Unfortunately, someone forget to tell all the other supernatural crap in your town to behave. A walk in the woods—well, more like a perimeter patrol—turned into an unexpected fight. An omega had tagged you as easy prey. He didn't live long enough to regret his decision. But, he had caught you unaware. So, while most of the blood you wore belonged to the wolf, you were bruised and banged up. It wasn't anything you needed a real doctor for, but you did need someone to look you over and make sure you didn't miss anything that warranted further attention. Besides, hunter you may be, but you never wanted to be alone after a kill.

The pack needed their down time, so you left them to their movie nights and slumber parties or whatever else they were about. Derek Hale was your best friend but he needed the time off worse than anyone. He'd been grumpy lately. Peter would help you out but...well, it was Peter. No, the Argents were your best bet.

You chanced a glance in the mirror and snorted at your appearance. Anyone could take a look at you and see you'd been in a fight. Dirt and blood were smeared across your face. The doors were off your jeep so it was easy enough for you to slide out, though you grunted as your ribs were jarred. Damned, stupid ribs. You leaned against the side of your car for a moment and focused on breathing without pain.

The house was quiet, but lights were on and Chris and Allison's cars were in the drive. Relief flooded through you. A few years ago, you wouldn't have dreamed of coming to an Argent for help. Then, they'd still been too much like your father. Regimented. Unforgiving. Any super was a bad super. You'd grown up in this town and gone to high school with Derek. When your father had threatened to 'put you down' along with your werewolf friends, you'd moved in with the Hales. Until the fire anyway. Derek had fled town and you'd found your own space.

Now, everything was different. Derek was back and the Argents learned to see people not creatures. Well, Chris and Allison did anyway. Allison and you had liked each other from the moment you met, but had become near inseparable after you saved her from getting killed by an Oni. With Allison came a closer relationship with Lydia, Scott and Stiles. Chris had also taken it upon himself to check up on you frequently. He was just that kind of guy. It didn't mean anything special and certainly didn't mean he liked you even remotely the way you liked him.

Realizing you were avoiding the task at hand, you straightened and made your way to the door. They were going to want to check your ribs and it was going to hurt like a bitch. Always did. You rapped your knuckles against the door and waited, hoping your appearance didn't startle them too badly. It wasn't every day you showed up on their doorstep covered in blood, bruises and dirt. Though, this wasn't the first time it had happened and probably wouldn't be the last.

Chris opened the door with a smile that quickly faded as his gaze ran over you. Quick at first, his eyes moved slower on the second pass as he searched for obvious injury. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Omega thought I would be easy prey. I wasn't."

He grasped your arm and pulled you gently into the house, shutting and locking the door behind you. "And is he regretting that thought?" he asked.

"He didn't get a chance to," you responded.

The corner of his mouth kicked up into a smile. "That's my girl."