Web of Deception: The Webbed Avenger

Chapter Forty-five: The Hunt Begins

Everything was a blur after he left the hospital.  Upon having his talk with Laura, he felt incredibly weak.  He hadn't realized just how bad the damage to his body was at the moment, and as he got into the car, everything just blurred.

Before Stiles knew it, he was waking up with seething hot surges of pain throughout his body.  The pain in his chest made him queasy as he tried sitting up, noticing that night had fallen upon the city.  Taking in a deep breath, Stiles spun to where his feet were on the floor of the loft, while he could feel the tightness on some of his wounds, meaning they were stitched together.  Laura or Cora must have patched him up in his sleep.  His sight was still a tad bit blurry, but he was sure it would remedy itself in no time, as he put his hands on the edge of the seat and pushed himself up off of the couch and onto his feet.  He almost stumbled to the ground, but managed to stay upright.

Exhaustion was the source of his fatigue at the moment, and while everyone would say he needed to rest, every ounce of his being was telling him to go find the people responsible before anyone else got hurt.  It was hard enough to think that fourteen officers were killed without a second thought, and not to mention the five in critical condition, Stiles' father included among them.

He never went home, Laura knew that he couldn't go home, not with a chance of someone coming to check up on him.  If they showed up while he was passed out, and with those injuries it would have been clear to connect him with the guy in the red hoodie.  Stiles had gone in with his father, not the guy in the hood.

Stepping over to the table, Stiles grabbed the remote to turn the television on, where he was greeted by the news.  Unsurprisingly, they were speaking about the mysterious hooded figure that saving countless lives at the scene.  He would have smiled previously at the thought of being called a hero, but he didn't care for it now.  The word felt stained to him, like the word didn't belong with him.  Glancing down to his torso, he could see the reddened bandages.  Sighing, he thought about the fact that it was only a couple hours and they were already stained that bad.  Now, granted he knew it was going to be bad, but he certainly did not enjoy it.

Removing them, Stiles went to the bathroom and reapplied fresh gauze, noting the wounds were healing, no doubt thanks to one of the Hale's handiwork.  He sighed in relief as he finished wrapping himself up, and grabbed a clean shirt on, making his way to the kitchen where he found Cora standing at the table stitching together the red jacket he had been wearing at the bank.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he grunted as he leaned against the table, gaining the werewolf's attention.

"Fixing your jacket.  I figured if you were going to run around in a uniform it would be a bit better if you didn't look like you came out of a paper shredder."

Stiles nodded, as he grabbed the sewing needle from her, an idea having popped in his head about a makeshift uniform he could wear.

"Thanks, but you don't need to do anything else to it.  I think being in a flamboyant red and blue outfit isn't exactly helping me track these guys down.  I think I might have something at my house that would work better.  I'll be back shortly." he stated, getting ready to move, wincing as his chest pulled tightly near his shoulder.

"You're not exactly in good shape right now, Sti.  Why don't I just drive you.  After all you never did tell us the plan," Cora reminded him, to which he just shrugged.  "You are going to tell us the plan, right?"

"Yeah, it's just right about now, if I tell you what I got planned you're going to call me crazy."

"Stiles, you're a Cross Species created from a genetically altered spider and the blood of a werewolf... hell, I'm a werewolf.  You managed to heal from what should have been fatal wounds, and with the pain you've been dealt in the past few hours you shouldn't be able to move, much less go back out there looking for the people who shot your father.  I really don't think I could call you crazy at this point."