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McCall had always been a footnote to Coach, someone who stayed on the bench and just helped to keep the number on the team up. The more players on the team, the more important the school saw the sport. McCall, alongside his friend Stilinski, was just one of the kids that kept the money flowing from the school board for new equipment.
Despite McCall being a background character on the team, someone Finstock forgot about until he actually saw him, the boy had managed to give the coach about half a dozen heart attacks within the span of a year.
The first one had been at the teams first try out. There was some potential on the field, kids who were fast and strong. Then McCall had came out of the locker rooms all jittery and Finstock decided he looked good enough. He hadn't had high hopes for the boy, but he expected something.
Ten minutes later the kid was laying on the pitch barely moving. His friend had ran alongside him to get to the McCall boy. Stilinski had thrusted a small piece of plastic into the boys hand and Finstock cursed as the kid took a puff of his inhaler.
He had made a deal of it then, added a slip of paper to the door of his office with 'medical issues' as the title.
McCall was the only one that had written on it.
The next time it had happened was during a match. The paper from the first term was buried deep in coach's desk drawer and really, the kids should be able to know how much they could take.
McCall hadn't.
He had been so excited to be out on the field after two other players had limped off. He didn't seem to think reminding the coach that he could die would be a good idea.
An ambulance had been called in that time.
Despite his poor health, the kid was good. As long as he didn't overexert himself he had a good shot.
That's why it wasn't a major surprise to Finstock when he had come back sophomore year with actual talent.
Though he had never voiced his confusion, Finstock had taken to watching the boy closely as he climbed up the ranks of the team without needing his inhaler once. Bobby knew sometimes people could grow out of their asthma but he could distinctly remember McCall's wheezing on the last day of freshman year.
He decided not to question it and wait for the inevitable day Scott would drop in the middle of a game. Coach had 911 dialled and ready every time he let the kid on the field. But the day never came.
Instead the boy just got stronger and faster and the opposite team starting giving him the ball willingly.
Then his friend group had grown slowly yet steadily. This resulted in his grades slipping and him being found in the centre of some questionable crimes. The grades Finstock worried about, he didn't want to have to kick the kid off the team. The crimes... well Bobby had been a teenager once too.
It took McCall a year to fully perfect the air of confidence he had been developing. Then people started listening to him, heeding his words like he was Jesus.
Isaac Lahey had only stopped beating the shit out of another kid when he had heard Scott's voice.
Finstock chose to pleasantly ignore that, as long as Scott was still playing lacrosse.
More people started dying then and the town had become increasingly less safe. Despite how in charge Scott seemed, Finstock knew he was just a boy. A kid. He looked out for him and his friends more than he would ever admit to out loud.
Then werewolves and the supernatural became common knowledge and really, Bobby couldn't say he was shocked at all. Everything started to add up in his mind and he therefore didn't spare it a second glance. As long as they were safe, he continued as normal. When they were in trouble, he stepped in without a second thought. McCall and Stilinski became like his sons.
Then things got too weird, even for him. Bobby found solace at a rehab centre. He vaguely wondered about the kids, about how they were doing, if they were still alive. He got some updates from Ms. Martin, the only person that came to visit him. She would tell him all the unusual happenings, update him on his favourite students.
When he heard Scott's asthma had come back, he didn't know what to think. He heard it was bad but that was the extent of it. He hoped at least one of the other teachers had 911 at the ready every time the kid went out onto the field.
Then Scott and Stiles were in his face begging him to come back. The thought of them thinking about him as much as he thought about them crossed his mind before he squashed it down. They were teenagers, they had no reason to think about their alcoholic and crazy coach.
The idea of seeing them euphoric again was what made him get up and go. They both had new lines on their faces, worry lines they shouldn't have until they're at least thirty. Finstock needed them to be excited again, like normal kids.
After everything McCall had been through, Finstock wasn't giving up until the kid won again.