another night's dawn (teen wolf, derek/stiles)
another night's dawn
chapter five
The grimy cement obviously wasn’t deemed necessary to a broom treatment when it was a dark, creepy corridor that led to a werewolf torture chamber. He could feel trekked earth, and probably glass, trying to break the skin on his palms and cut through his trousers.
derek/stiles. ♢ teen wolf. ♢ pg-13. ♢ pre-slash, au after 1x11.
if i owned them, my fanfics would actually be episodes.
another night's dawn.
chapter five.
Stiles tried not to chuckle when Jackson slammed a little too hard into the door on a particularly rough turn. “Oops.” He inflicted insincerely, the smirk finally winning out.
“Could you maybe not wreck my car?” Jackson grumbled, righting himself in his seat and putting on his seatbelt.
“Yeah, okay, Paul Walker. I’m sure your car is used to it by now, with your Fast and Furious Fridays in abandoned parking lots all around town.” Stiles shifted gears and pressed harder on the clutch and gas as he went through the rough terrain that would lead through the back to Derek’s.
“I am not Paul Walker.” Was all Jackson could retort with, scowling at his companion.
“Well you’re definitely not Vin Diesel, and you’re sure as hell not Tyrese. Would you rather be Michelle Rodriguez?”
“She’s way more badass than Paul Walker, that’s for sure.”
Stiles was so busy arguing with Jackson about their bizarre conversation, that he wasn’t paying attention to their surroundings. If he had been, he may have noticed the SUV parked off in the distance. He may have been properly alarmed at the oddity to proceed with caution or turn around altogether.
But no. He was too busy arguing that he was not Jesse from the first one who got killed three quarters of the way in. So when he drove over the spikes and the tires blew, all logic went out the window. He forgot that you’re supposed to coast to a stop with a blown out tire, and slammed his feet on the brake.
The irony about talking about a movie franchise about car races while this happened was not lost on Stiles as the car flipped. He felt like he was flying in those seconds it took for the car to twist and turn through the air until the underside of the car collided with one of the trees in the forest.
He felt the impact reverberate all the way up his spine, heard Jackson cry out as the car landed on its hood.
His vision swam as his brain tried to catch up with the hell it’d just been thrown into. Everything in his body hurt and he could feel where the glass had embedded itself in his face and neck from the windshield imploding. The wounds burned with each grimace and stretch of his face as they tore and spread even more. He knew they weren’t deep, mostly superficial, so he was grateful for that.
Speaking of superficial, “You okay?” Stiles groaned out in Jackson’s direction, as the other teen tried to work himself free from his seatbelt. “You might want to br…” Jackson released his seatbelt and fell - shoulders first - to the roof of the car, nearly folding in on himself. “Brace yourself first.”
“Thanks.” Jackson sneered as much as he could towards Stiles. “What the hell did you do to my car?”
“It wasn’t me. I think I ran over something.” Stiles grunted with the effort to get himself undone. He crashed to the roof worse than Jackson did, and tried kicking at the blond as he laughed at Stiles’ spastic movements. Curses were spat back and forth as they maneuvered around the small roof like turtles on their backs. They eventually ended up so that Stiles’ head was on Jackson’s shoulder so that he could kick out the window on the destroyed car.
“Get me out of here!” Jackson whined directly in Stiles’ ear, banging his fists as the teen started to shimmy his way through the door.
Stiles grit his teeth, trying not to cry out as the glass began slicing through his thighs. He was able to get onto his hip as soon as his butt was out of the window, the glass having begun to cut into the small of his back. His back didn’t make it out unscathed as he arched too high through the window while backing out. His hands were sliced open with each movement as he crawled away from the wreckage to take a deep breath, listening to Jackson’s shuffling as the boy started to make his way out.
He lay staring up at the canopy, taking stock of himself. He could feel the cuts on his face, a particularly nasty gash on his forehead dripping blood, scratches along his arms, his hands were trashed, his back and thighs cut to hell… but he was alive.
The sun was winking through the swaying treetops as he caught his breath, wondering how it was his life had became this, when someone stepped into his vision. The sun behind the person - a woman if the long hair was any indication - enveloped them in a halo that made it difficult to see their face. But when the husky chuckle came forth and a baton glowing blue descended to his chest, he knew who it had to be.
The last thing he heard as his body seized and arched with electricity was Kate Argent telling someone to load them into the car. They were going hunting.
________________________________________
Chapter Six
________________________________________
I know this is super, super short, but I felt the need to stop here for some reason. It felt like the end to a chapter, so I’ll be posting chapter 6 up really soon. Sometime tonight. I’m finishing it up now. It’s the big battle part. This has actually been extended to 8 chapters. We’re almost done!