Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Frayed Part 1

I looked out the window of the school bus as I sat with Stiles and Scott near the back. It was thundering heavily outside, and I was starting to think maybe the cross-country meet would be canceled. Scott sat in front of me and Stiles, occasionally turning in his seat to talk to us. Well, more than occasionally.

Coach yelled for someone to get back to their seat, and I entwined my fingers with Stiles'. Isaac and Boyd were sitting together up near the middle, talking to each other. My mind was stuck on what happened yesterday, and as I rested my head on Stiles' shoulder, playing the scene in my head on a loop. Stiles' thumb gently and absent-mindedly rubbed my skin as I thought.

We didn't even mean for it to happen, but Scott couldn't save him in time. I'm sure the image of it haunted Scott because he had his eyes closed, a sad look on his face as he laid his head against the window.

Danny and Ethan were sitting together on the other side of the bus, but Aiden wasn't there and Ethan kept checking his phone worriedly. Another effect from that night. I had a sneaking feeling that Danny was crushing on Ethan, but I couldn't be the one to ruin his shine.

"Yo, Scotty?" Stiles said, jerking me from my obtrusive memories. Scott jumped up and turned around.

"Sorry. What's the word?" he asked.

"Anachronism." Stiles frowned at his ipad which spit out SAT words to study.

"Something that exists out of its normal time," Scott recited.

"Nice. Okay, next word—incongruous."

"Um... Can you use it in a sentence?"

"Yes. Yes, I can. It's completely incongruous that were sitting on a bus right now, on our way to some stupid cross-country meet after what just happened—incongruous," Stiles snarked. Scott nodded halfway through, but politely waited for Stiles to finish his rant.

"Out of place, ridiculous, absurd."

"Perfect. Okay, next word. Um... Darach," Stiles said. Scott jerked his head up to look at Stiles. "Darach, it's a noun." Stiles glanced up to see Scott's 'not right now' face. "We have to talk about this sometime, okay? And we're gunna be stuck in this thing for like five hours. Why not?"

Scott just laid his head back on the window like he wasn't feeling great.

"Babe?" Stiles asked.

"Later, okay, Stiles?" I mumbled kindly, squeezing his hand gently. He sighed but gave Scott the next word. Right after Scott defined it, the bus jumped over a large bump, jerking us all around. It probably didn't help that we sat in the back where every little bump was felt. Plus, the deep gashes in Scott's side that weren't healing as fast probably had something to do with it. Scott groaned, leaning over slightly. I sniffled, my nose slightly scratchy.

"You okay, buddy?" Stiles asked Scott. I sneezed twice and Stiles frowned. "We shouldn't have come. I knew it. We shouldn't have come."

"We had to. There's safety in numbers," Scott replied, his voice strong despite how crappy he looked.

"Yeah, well, there's also death in numbers, too. Okay, it's called a massacre. Bloodbath, carnage..." Stiles mumbled, reading from his ipad.

"Slaughter, butchery," I added.

"Butchery, wow, that's-," Stiles started, raising his eyebrows at me. I sneezed again. Scott groaned quietly.

"Alright, I'm telling Coach-."

"No, no, no," Scott interrupted. "I'm alright."

"You don't look alright," Stiles grumbled.

Scott mumbled to us, "I can't believe Derek's dead."

"Me either," I replied, settling back against Stiles' shoulder.

The scene played in my mind. Isaac, Scott and I were all fighting the twins, who were no longer the twins, but just the Twin. They merged into one body over six-feet tall with arms the size of my thigh. Even with all three of us on him (them?), we still didn't even seem to faze him.

Derek was fighting Ennis, another alpha who was bigger and stronger. But they got too close to the edge, and they both fell 30 feet onto a broken escalator in the abandoned mall.

Scott stared over the edge with shock, but Derek wasn't breathing. I ran over and ripped Scott from the edge so he wouldn't fall. He looked like he was about to cry as he panted at the ground. I put my hand on his back, careful not to accidentally cut him with my claws.

Isaac stared at us with sadness and pity, and I only spared him a glance, unable to see that look without feeling like crying for Scott. The taste of Scott's sadness was like drinking in the Dead Sea by the gallon. So much salt, I thought I'd dehydrate in a second flat.

"Jared, car sick? Again?" Coach threw his arms into the air, pulling me from my memory. "God, how do you even get on a bus. Look at me. No, don't look at me. Look at the horizon, keep your eyes on the horizon. McCall, not you, too!" Coach shouted. Scott perked up, saying he was fine.

"Scott, you're still bleeding. And don't tell me it's because it's taking longer to heal because I'm pretty sure still bleeding is not healing. Like at all," Stiles grumbled.

"He's listening," Scott said, nodding in Ethan's direction. I opened my eyes to see Ethan's head cocked in our direction.

"You think he'll try something?" I asked, my voice becoming hoarse. Stiles handed me a water bottle from his bag and I gratefully took a sip.

"Not in front of this many people," Scott replied.

"Okay, well, what about the two ticking time bombs sitting right near him?" Stiles asked, gesturing to Isaac and Boyd. Boyd looked over at Ethan with rage.

"Nah, they won't. Not here."

"What if they do? Are you gunna stop them?"

Scott looked back at Stiles seriously. "If I have to."

The bus rolled to a stop suddenly, and I peeked to see a long single-file line of cars ahead of us. I groaned at our luck. Scott started to stand when we heard Boyd begin to growl. I perked up just a little, standing in case I was needed.

Scott stumbled down the aisle and grabbed Boyd's wrist. Boyd's claws had come out in the promise of fight.

Scott came back after calming Boyd down.

"Crisis averted?" Stiles asked.

"Mhm."

"Okay, good, because we got another problem. Ethan keeps checking his phone, like every five minutes. It's like he's waiting for something. Like a message or a signal of some kind. I don't know. Something evil, though, I can tell. I have a very perceptive eye for evil, you know that," Stiles said. I looked at Ethan, who checked his phone again. It always impressed me just how observant Stiles was.

"I don't like him sitting with Danny," I admitted.

"I don't either," Scott replied, glaring at the back of Ethan's head.

Stiles pulled out his phone. It was blue. "I'm gunna see who he's waiting for."