Stiles was still panting by the time he reached the Hale house. The scene with Jackson's car kept playing through his head and it scared the hell out of him knowing that he was even capable of something like that. Of course he knew that being a werewolf meant he had super everything and that he was angrier than most, but knowing it from books was far different from experiencing it. If he could stop a speeding car by simply pulling on it, how much more can he do? How much more will he do?
"Derek!" He yelled. He didn't care about his earlier notion that Derek had to trust him first before they talked again. He needed help and there was only one person who could give him that.
He wasn't sure if Derek actually lived in the Hale house, it looked abandoned and not at all fit to live in. At first he thought that maybe Derek lived in an apartment somewhere in town and only took their training here so they wouldn't wreck his much nicer house. He really wished that wasn't the case. If Derek wasn't here, he had no idea what he would do. Or who could stop him if all these emotions got the best of him again and he ended up hurting someone worse than he did Jackson.
There was a pile of freshly dug dirt by the side of his house. He could tell it was fresh not only by looking at it, but by the strong smell of something buried inside. He didn't know what it was, but the horrible stench was enough to keep his mind on the here and now.
When Derek came out and talked to him, Stiles told him everything that happened.
"This is the third time in one week that you went out of control." Derek said, "The first time it was because of the full moon, but yesterday and today? I don't understand how you keep slipping."
"I know." Stiles replied, "I'm sorry."
"I don't care how sorry you are Stiles. You don't have control which means you're a risk to our kind, especially with that family of hunters around. You have to stay out of situations that might affect your control."
Stiles frowned, "What do you mean?"
"I mean that until you learn control, you can't play lacrosse."
Stiles' jaw dropped. He had to give up lacrosse? But he only just got to play. For once his father could sit in the stands and watch him actually play instead of sitting on the bench. This was his one chance to impress Lydia and make his dad proud. How could he give that up?
The look in Derek's eyes however let him know how serious the older werewolf was about this and he knew he was right. It was only his first official week as a werewolf and already he slipped twice. The second time he actually got someone physically hurt! If he slipped a third time, he was afraid of what he'd do. Afraid that he'd do more than just cause a car accident. And as much as he loved to play lacrosse, he loved not being a killer a lot more.
"Okay."
Seemingly satisfied with Stiles' easy acceptance, Derek stood up and began to walk back to the house.
"How'd you do it?" Asked Stiles stopping Derek from going further.
"Do what?"
Stiles stood up and faced him, "You may have been gone for six years but that doesn't mean that the people of Beacon Hills have forgotten about Derek Hale, sports star. When Coach Finstock's not busy comparing his players to you, he's busy bitching about what a missed opportunity you were. So how'd you do it? How did you play all those games without losing control of your aggression?"
For a second, Derek looked stunned that Coach Finstock, who was only an Assistant Coach when he was in school, seemed to speak so highly of him.
YOU ARE READING
Shifted
FanfictionThings take a turn for the bizarre when two boys' midnight trek into the woods ends with one of them being bit by a beast with glowing red eyes and fangs that almost gleam in vicious delight. Now, the once pale and scrawny Stiles Stilinski is a crea...