Chapter Text
Isaac winced as he tripped on unsteady feet in a trial to trace the ragged ground of the preserve after a particularly brutal night.
“Here,” Derek’s voice interrupted as he came to his side, manoeuvring his arm to sling it across his shoulder so that some of the weight was shared and not heavy on the injured knee, Isaac gratefully taking the support.
Stiles scoffed from his left. “Someone’s come to his senses, surprise surprise.” he mocked, poison dripped words making everyone around anxious.
Stiles was pissed. In the simplest of terms, he was pissed and raging inside. He could sense that everyone around could sense that, though he doubts that anyone can pay actual attention to it considering they were in various stages of pain ranging somewhere from damn-that-hurts to I-just-defeated-death-by-an-inch. He, himself was somewhere near the middle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Derek spit, his legs slowing down to a halt to face Stiles, which was almost fair considering Stiles had been pissed and vocal about it the whole night, right from when he had arrived to now when they were leaving, almost there to their cars and bikes.
“I don’t know,” Stiles shrugged, turning to face Derek as well, the large gash on his forehead –one that was still bleeding– and his exhausted eyes making his stature seem strange yet intimidating. “Seems sort of odd that you’re helping us through the bruises you gave us.”
“Excuse me?”
“Stiles.” Scott’s tired voice came, not that it had any effect as Stiles stepped forward.
“Oh don’t act so shocked!” the human’s voice rose. “It was your decision, your plan, your fucked up idea that got us all here, got us all beaten.”
A low growl made it past Derek’s lips, “No one asked you to be here, any of you.” he replied with a dangerously heavy voice.
Stiles let out another scoff, shaking his head as if in disappointment or disagreement. “Well, I guess next time none of us will be there then. Because I’m sure there will be a next time since you fucking don’t seem to learn!” he shoved at Derek’s chest. Some of the watching eyes turned surprised and worried of the consequence of the action in equilibrium. “The fact that you’re a trouble magnet isn’t enough, no, you also have to be stupid and an uncaring absolute jerk who doesn’t give a single damn about who gets hurt because of what you do!”
Derek’s snarl was not quiet this time as Scott interrupted again, his voice steadier. “Stiles. Enough.”
“Why?!” Stiles turned sharply to the alpha and then back. “Everyone’s thinking it, just that I have the courage to actually say it to his face.”
“Have your pissing content in the morning,” Lydia’s sharp voice cut, leaving no argument and demanding obedience. “-when we’re all showered and have our heads cooled down. Enough Stiles. Walk.”
It was as if nature agreed with the banshee too. The first drop made Stiles and Jackson look up, Scott’s nostrils flaring as he urged, “Come on,” and they all rushed to the cars with rain beginning to pour heavy within minutes.
Stiles ushered Isaac in at last, carefully placing his leg laid out and extended on the back seat of Allison’s car before he shut the car door and the silver ride drove quickly from its parked spot. He blinked rapidly in an effort to see clearly through the water and jogged to his own jeep before cursing under his breath, realizing too late that his keys were with Scott who had already left.
A cab at this time of the night and with his bloody appearance wasn’t really an option, neither was his dad who was out of town for the night and the coming three. So he cursed again, wrapped his arms around his body in a valiant endeavour to keep the heat in, and turned towards Derek's loft that was only half a mile away.