The Wolf and His Moon

8

The last time I updated this story was July 30th. How in the fuck does time fly that fast? Literally. Like, it's almost fucking October. I am so sorry it took this long to get a new chapter out, but this one is longer and we get a nice Six and Derek moment in the end. We need to come up with a ship name for them.

Episode- Pack Mentality

(Six's P.O.V.)

"Maybe it was my blood on the door." Scott says, turning to whisper to me and my brother while Mr. Harris drones on in the front of the class.

"Could have been animal blood." I shrug, frantically scribbling down my notes.

"Yeah. Maybe you caught a rabbit or something." Stiles suggests, having no care about taking notes.

"And did what?" Scott dumbly asks.

"Ate it."

"Raw?"

"No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven." I snap, still trying to keep my voice low. "We don't know, Scott, you're the one who can't remember anything."

"Mr. Stilinski, if that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might wanna pull the headphones out every once in a while. I think your brother and yourself would benefit from a little distance, yes?"

"No." Stiles pouts while I begin packing my things up to move. He points us to three different spots in the room and we all move.

"Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much." Harris adds and I roll my eyes, dropping my bag at my new seat with a thud.

"Earbuds." I mutter.

"What's that, Mr. Stilinski?"

"What?" Stiles asks in confusion. "I didn't say anything."

"Not you, Stiles. Six." Harris corrects, rolling his eyes at my sometimes idiotic brother.

"I said 'earbuds', Sir." I deflect the attention of the entire class from my brother. "You take earbuds out of your ears. Headphones go over your ears. Therefore, you take earbuds out, and headphones off."

"Sit down." He rolls his eyes and goes back to his teaching, and I smirk, drinking the last of my coffee.

"Hey, I think they found something!" The girl sitting next to Scott suddenly exclaims, and we're all on our feet and racing for the windows in seconds.

We watch as paramedics rush someone on a gurney towards an ambulance, and the person looks like a complete mess.

"That's not a rabbit." Scott whispers to me and Stiles, both of them having flanked me with the chaos of everyone getting up.

The man suddenly jumps up, screaming in terror, and we all jump back in surprise.

"Okay." Stiles stutters, obviously freaked out by the dude. Scott backs up, visibly disturbed, and my brother and I follow him. "Hey, this is good, this is good. He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that."

"Guys..." He says, voice breathy. "I did that."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"But dreams aren't memories." Stiles loudly whispers as we walk to our empty lunch table.

"Then it wasn't a dream. Something happened last night and I can't remember what."

"Wow, you guys really do suck at whispering." I chuckle, not even trying to whisper, as Stiles and I round the table and sit across from Scott.

"Shut up, Six." Stiles says, pulling my beanie off my head and throwing it on the table.