Wild Ones - Teen Wolf fan fic

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I waited for what felt like forever. The hands of the clock kept ticking, taunting me. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes. Forty minutes. I sang to myself on and off, to fend off the noises, but I couldn't fight off the restlessness.

I threw off the blanket and stood, my stiff muscles aching in protest. I'd had enough waiting. I looked at the clock again. 4:28am. I went to the back room again and grabbed my hoodie, slipping it on and zipping it up. The front was still torn and bloodied, but it was better than walking around in a skimpy, bloodied tank top. I went to the front door and unlocked it, looking out into the early morning. The sky was a dark blue and the street was quiet. I slipped out and carefully shut the door behind me. I looked both ways and set out for the woods again, limping slightly. I didn't know why, but it didn't feel safe to stay out in the open. Once under cover of the trees, I headed east in the direction of home. As I walked, or limped, my mind was racing. 'Is Elle home? Has she noticed I'm gone? What if she sees me like this?' I looked down at my ruined clothes. My black hoodie was torn and now brown with blood and mud and covered in blades of grass and dead leaves, my shorts were also a mess. My shoes were filthy, my right one full of blood making a squelching sound with every step. The bandage around my thigh was clean except for the spot where the wound had bled through. Elle would have a heart attack if she saw me this way. I imagined her seeing me and fainting like they do in the movies, with one hand to her brow and throwing her head back dramatically. I chuckled to myself at the image. 'If Mal found me, she'd prolly just roll her eyes and tell me I look like a hobo.' I thought, drily. After a while of walking, I came to a running trail that I recognized. I took it south and followed it to the end of my street. Instead of walking straight out to the street, I walked around and decided to cut through back yards, to avoid being seen. I jumped the Ferdson's fence and ran through their yard to the opposite side and jumped that fence to my neighbors yard. My neighbor was up, making coffee. I could hear him shuffling around his kitchen. 'I don't think I'll ever get used to that' I thought, cringing at the enhanced sounds of a coffee grinder. I reached my fence and bounded over with ease despite my chest and bad leg. I krept up to the sliding glass door and peeked in. It was just the way I left it, the knife laying on the floor by the door, the tiles cracked, and the door open. I slipped in and slid the door shut quietly behind me, straining my ears for any sounds. The ceiling fan in the living room whirred, the fridge's ice maker clattered, and the faucet in the kitchen dripped. The house was empty. I released the breath I'd been holding and relaxed. I picked up the knife from the floor and stared at it for a moment before setting it in the sink and turning the faucet completely off. It all felt so surreal. Like the night before had been some kind of dream. Like it had never happened. I went back to the door and dropped to a crouch, ignoring my protesting leg. The tiles were cracked in a spider web pattern. My fingers traced the pattern slowly, but I stopped when I touched the dried blood. It was an ugly brown smear on the beige tiles. My throat burned making me swallow hard. I stood quickly and grabbed the sponge from the sink, wet it and furiously began scrubbing at the stain. It lifted quickly, but the smell didn't. I bit my lip and scrubbed harder, tears springing to my eyes. I was scared, tired, and confused. I crawled to the sink and threw open the cabinet beneath and snatched the spray bottle of bleach solution. I sprayed the tiles liberally and again scrubbed like my life depended on it. I sniffed and wiped the tears away as the smell was replaced with the sharp smell of bleach. My throat still burned but it was a lot less, more like a tickle at the back of my throat. I stood and dropped the sponge in the sink and tossed the bottle carelessly under the sink and kicked the cabinet door shut. I wiped my hands on the kitchen towel and took a deep breath. I moved the rug from in front of the oven to cover the cracked tiles by the door and looked around the kitchen one last time, to ensure that Elle wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary when she got home, before I made my way to the stairs and up to my room. My room was the same. My bed was a tossled mess and my clothes from the other day were strewn around the room. I noticed my cell phone on my night stand and snatched it up.

(4 new messages)

Saturday 9:46a -You up? We need to talk. -Stiles

Saturday 11:17a -I'm coming over -Stiles

Saturday 11:20p -I'm heading out. I have my cell if you need me -Elle

2:16a -Gunna be longer than I thought. Manny flight delayed. -Elle

I quickly text Elle back.

To: Elle -Ok. Just woke up. Love you.

I sighed and dropped the phone on the bed and caught my reflection in the mirror of my closet. I looked worse than I thought. My hair was a tangled mess and I wore no makeup, but my face was dirty with tear tracks streaking my cheeks and dark circles under my eyes. My clothes were wrecked and every inch of exposed skin was smudged with dirt and grime. I bit my lip and half sobbed, half laughed.

"I'm a mess." I whispered, turning and looking from all angles. I sighed and went to my bathroom, peeling away clothes as I went. I turned on the shower as hot as I could stand and stepped in, washing away the night. My injuries weren't as bad as before. The skin around them was an angry pink and sore, but they weren't bleeding anymore. When I looked closer, they looked almost healed.

After my shower, I wrapped a towel tightly around me and scooped up my ruined clothes and threw them in a garbage bag. I couldn't let Elle find them. I tied the bag shut and hid it in the back of my closet in the bathroom hidden behind some towels. I went back to my room and hurriedly dressed, throwing on a pair of comfy long sweats and a black tee. I quickly brushed out my hair and left it down and put on some make up, hoping to look at least semi-normal when Elle came home. I checked my phone again.

(1 new message)

5:54a -Almost home. Be back in 10. -Elle

I glanced at the clock. 6:05am. I pocketed my phone and ran downstairs, skipping stairs as I went. I got to the kitchen and set to making coffee for Elle. I yawned and blinked, the exhaustion setting in.

I heard the garage door clatter to life as it began to roll up and I could hear Elle's Pontiac roll up the driveway. She was listening to country music and singing off key, tapping her hands on the steering wheel. I smiled to myself and poured her a cup of coffee and set it on the counter for her.

"Hello?" She called, as she swung open the garage door. She looked tired, but happy. I smiled at her.

"Hey. How was the drive?" She beamed when she saw the coffee.

"Your are a goddess. Thank you. My drive went well. It was the waiting that was killer. The lady at the parking deck tried to get me to buy a six hour parking pass for fifty bucks. Those toll people are creaking vampires, I tell ya what." She smiled and shook her head, taking a sip of her coffee. I felt myself go rigid for a moment at the "V" word, but forced myself to relax. Elle eyed me, suspiciously.

"You ok? You look tired." I nodded and fake yawned.

"Yeah. Those migraine pills really knocked me out. I think I was more unconscious than asleep." She bought the act and went to the fridge to forage some food. As she brushed past me I felt the burning again. My hand instinctively went straight to my throat as I held my breath.

"Are least you got some rest. I am going straight to my bed and sleeping all day. So, if you need anything, that's where I'll be." She grabbed a banana and kicked the fridge door shut and went to her room.

"Good night!" She called. "Or good day... Whatever." She called. I stood stock still, still holding my breath. My throat ached, like I had bruised it or something. I went to the fridge and grabbed the jug of milk. 'Maybe if I trick my body into thinking I'm full, I won't get the thirst so bad.' I tried rationalizing with myself. I poured a glass and began gulping it down. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and put the jug back in the fridge. I rinsed my glass and set it in the sink and then took a deep breath. The cold drink hadn't done much for the burning at all, but it made me feel suddenly sick. I clasped my stomach as a painful cramp set in. Suddenly I felt bile rising in the back of my throat. I clutched the edge of the sink and leaned forward.

It came out in a rush. A disgusting silvery-grey liquid. It looked like mercury. Seeing it just made me want to vomit again. I gagged hard for a moment before I was able to get myself under control again. I turned on the faucet and rinsed out the sink and my mouth with cool water.

"What the hell is going on?" I whispered to myself, wiping my mouth with a paper towel.