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When Chris returned to the living room, rifle in hand, Stiles – God help him – looked so relieved.
“Thank you,” Stiles sighed. He sat up and closed his eyes, trying to hold himself somewhat still as he waited to die.
Chris clenched his jaw.
Raised his rifle.
Aimed with tearful eyes.
And pulled the trigger.- OR -
The one where Stiles is bitten and left for dead by a rogue Alpha without anyone knowing, becomes increasingly unstable, and asks Chris Argent to put him down.
It doesn't go the way he expected it would... -
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