Chapter 18

                                    

                                          
~Stiles~
I got ready by 7:30. I got in my jeep and drive off to school. I usually hate Mondays but the events from last night had me excited for the day.
                          
The pack, I'll have to tell the pack. No matter what, I have to be honest with them. They have to know. Reaching the school, I park my jeep only to find that me and the pack all arrived at the same time. Coincidence? Maybe. 
                          
Isaac ran towards me and hugged me tightly which earned questioning looks from other students who passed by. 
                          
"Y'all got a problem?" Jackson yelled, which surprised me a bit for Jackson, but I was happy he did that. 
                          
The students lowered their heads and scurried off to the building. I loved this side of Jackson, being a big brother to Isaac. Eventhough Isaac is taller, he has a soft heart which is precious. I'm glad he has Scott for a mate, those two deserve each other. 
                          
I smiled towards them and they me. Together, we walked to the school building. No words were spoken, no words needed to be. 
                          
~3rd~
It was lunch time, everyone got together at the table. Stiles was huffing, he was already tired of school at this point, he just can't wait to graduate. But that's not for another 4 months. 
                          
"Scott I'm sorry to say this but coach is giving me a headache. 
                          
"Why are you saying sorry to me about coach?" 
                          
"He's your dad isn't he? You're his pet."
                          
"I'm not his pet" 
                          
"You're his pet babe" Isaac says nodding to Scott who looks surprised. 
                          
"I'm his pet?". At this moment everyone just sighs in annoyance. Jackson looks like he's done with Scott's crap, ready to bounce, who gets tugged on the shirt by Lydia making him sit back down. 
                          
"M-Stiles?" 
                          
"Yes Ethan?" 
                          
"Are you gonna tell us why you left yesterday?" 
                          
Stiles tenses for a bit before nodding slowly. He tells them about what happened, with Jason and about his eyes turning blue. And how he didn't want the pack to look at him differently. 
                          
Scott speaks up shifting closer to Stiles. "Stiles. Why didn't you tell us? Or me? Especially me. I'm your best friend. We wouldn't look at you differently, I wouldn't look at you differently. Besides he asked for it, literally. Don't live with that guilt OK? And don't ever keep something like that from us, we're your kids. We'll not biologically and trust me I'm still processing, but still." he says clasping Stiles on the shoulder giving it a gentle press of reassurance. 
                          
Stiles nods softly and smiles at the pack who were giving him warm smiles themselves. 
                          
What was he worried about? This was his pack, his family. They will always take care of each other. 
                          
The bell rang and everyone rushed out. Stiles got to his jeep, he waves at the different couples who got together. Scott and Isaac on his bike, Jackson and Lydia in his porche, Danny and Ethan on Ethan's bike and Malia and Kira in Malia's new car.
                          
Kira drives cause Malia is a terrible driver, for now. 
                          
It was only 4 months left till graduation. Four months, alot can happen in four months, he wishes nothing happens cause right now he needs a break from the supernatural, but then again, he wants something to happen so he can have little time going through Mrs Martin's class. 
                          
Please no supernatural but make it exciting he wishes. What's the worst that can happen? 
                          
1 month later, Stiles is in the classroom dozing off to Coach's class, again, which is surprising even for Stiles. There hadn't been any pack meetings. He missed his broody mate, but apparently his dad has restricted his movements. 
                          
Stiles and Derek only texted to check on each other. Derek didn't want to disturb Stiles cause of school but he makes sure he's there for him. Technologically. 
                          
Stiles hadn't been feeling so good for the past month. It was like he was being drained and needed rest. Alot of it. 
                          
"STILINSKI!" Stiles wakes up startled. Scott eyes his best friend worriedly from beside him. Why are you sleeping?"
                          
"Cause I'm so energetic that's why" 
                          
"Go wash your face and when you come back I expect full attention or at least pretend to be interested" 
                          
"What do you think I've been doing?" Coach glares at him. 
                          
"Wash my face, on it" he smiles smugly giving a thumbs up. 
                          
He makes his way to the bathroom. Coach began teaching again, his voice dying out slowly as Stiles increases his distance from the classroom. 
                          
He enters the loo and goes to one of the sinks, opens the tap and slowly bends down to rinse his face. 
                          
He flushes his face with water, closing the tap he looks at himself in the mirror. 
                          
Then he feels something, something weird. It seemed to be groaning from his stomach. Then he feels it, reaching up to his throat. 
                          
Without hesitation he flings himself onto one of the toilets, and pukes into the toilet bowl. Even after the vomiting was done he still gagged. 
                          
Feeling a little better he leans on the cubicle wall and sighs, tired. 
                          
He was so tired, too tired. It has been a month now since he had this. Now, he's too tired to move, too tired to even open his mouth to call for someone. 
                          
Slowly blinking, his eyes began to close. Darkness began to illuminate his vision, he fought weakly, trying to keep himself awake. Instead, he began to succumb to the feeling of heaviness that took over. 
                          
The last thing he was able to hear, before dying out to sleep, was the sound of his breath, slow and steady, in an empty bathroom that echoed from its walls.