The Longer I Live

Chapter 2: Some of Us Are Human

Soft sheets stroked Stiles's face. He remembered last night's dream. This time it did not involve the ever- elusive Danny Mahealani but a handsome, muscular stranger with emerald, green eyes. Forcing himself not to open his own eyes, he ignored the morning light invading his room as he tried to go back to sleep. Pressing his cheeks against the gentle cotton of his pillow, his nose inhaled something wet and smelling of metallic iron.

Opening his brown eyes wide, he saw his pillowcase drenched in scarlet while a continuous flow of crimson dropped from his nostrils. Glancing at his appearance in the dresser mirror, he saw his t-shirt soaked in red and panicked. Throwing the covers off, Stiles sprinted from his room down the hallway to the bathroom and locked the door. Locating the sink, he turned on the faucet and began dampening his face with water.

Washing the blood from his nose, he hoped it would clot. It did not. Splashing more water into his face, he grabbed a towel and pinched his nostrils together. Suddenly, a loud pounding vibrated through the bathroom door.

"Dammit!" Stiles griped.

"Stiles!" Allison shouted on the other side. "Hurry up in there! I need to use the bathroom. I have to be in school early to prepare for the pep rally today!"

"I'll be out in a minute, Allison!" Her younger sibling replied. "I'm on the throne. You don't want to come in here! The smell could kill you!"

"Liar!" His sister accused him. "I can hear the water splashing in the sink! Stiles, come on! I have to get to school really early!"

"I SAID I'LL BE OUT IN A MINUTE!" Stiles yelled.

It turned out to be longer than that. Out in the hall, the siblings' mother Victoria Argent came rushing in the middle of the argument. Short red hair and blue eyes cast a disapproving look at her two children, bickering like kindergarteners as she stepped in to mediate.

"What is going on here?" Victoria asked.

"Mom, Stiles is in the bathroom and he's joking around," Allison clucked. "I have to get to school early and he's going to make me late."

"Allison, you can use our bathroom in the Master bedroom to get ready," the Argent matriarch offered.

Placing an affectionate peck on her cheek, Allison displayed her gratitude. "Thanks Mom."

Observing her daughter retire down the hall, Victoria Argent gripped the doorknob. "Stiles, fun and games are over. Open the door please."

"I'm dropping a deuce Mom," responded Stiles. "Can't."

"Victoria?"

The voice of concern came from the family patriarch. Beacon Hills Sherriff Chris Argent stood in front of his wife holding a large object in his hand. The brown haired, hazel eyed law enforcement officer clutched the bloody pillowcase and exhibited it to his spouse.

"Oh my God!" The red headed woman gasped. She grabbed for the doorknob and turned. It was locked. "Stiles! Open the door now!"

No answer.

"Stiles, this is your father!" Sherriff Argent ordered. "Do as your mother says or I'm breaking the door down!"

A soft click of the door unlocking finally came. Quickly, Victoria pushed the door open to see her soaking wet with a bloody towel covering his nose.

She turned to her husband. "Call Dr. Deaton! It's getting worse!"

"Wait!" Stiles called to his father. "It's okay! I'm fine." He dropped the towel. "The bleeding stopped. See?"

Sherriff Argent paused for a moment unsure of what to do. It would be his wife who would have the final say.

"No, you're not fine," Victoria emphasized. "For all we know you have some nasal hemorrhaging. I'm not taking any chances. We're calling Dr. Deaton!"