Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own Teen Wolf or any of its characters but if I did I'd throw parties every weekend with their amazing and fun cast. Also, Stiles would get whump often cuz seriously, he's the only human without training that's always in the front lines and NOTHING ever happens to him... That said let's keep calm and carry on.
Author's Note: Hey guys, so I'm venturing outside my comfort zone here. A friend suggested I should watch Teen Wolf that I'd fall in love with Stiles cuz he's awesome and she was absolutely right! Thing is, I'm a die-hard whump fan but this time I'm dipping my toes in the Sterek fandom. So please R&R, let me know how I did. By the way, my first language isn't English so big thanks to Engel1982 for fixing my horrors. If you find any mistakes they're all mine and I apologize in advance. Happy Reading!
Master Plan Redux
"So what are you doing with me?"
He didn't know how long Grandpa Argent was hitting him but it felt like an eternity before he finally stopped. The first punch stunned him more than anything. He didn't know what was happening, one second he was standing face to face with Gerard Argent and the next, he was on the floor. It was a hard sensation to describe because everything was happening so fast he had no time to feel the pain. One punch, then came the second, he closed his eyes tight against the assault. He might've pleaded at one time for Gerard to stop but he didn't know if the words actually came out. Then came the third punch, that's when he tasted blood and after that he stopped counting.
Stiles didn't really expect him to hit like that. An old man should not be capable of being so fast. The punches were so close together he didn't have time to react. He was fast and strong for a 90-year-old dude. After the fourth punch the skin on his cheekbone split and he felt a tickling sensation run down the side of his neck. Somehow that triggered his reflexes and he tried to curl into a fetal position to protect his face and head from further damage but then Grandpa Argent adjusted to the situation and started kicking him. The first kick made contact with the soft part between his side and back. The impact was so hard that it racked his frame and knocked the wind out of him. The other kicks hit him somewhere around his ribs and that's when the pain showed its ugly face. He didn't know anyone could withstand so much pain. Even with the old man getting tired and he knew, because the kicks were lacking the strength he showed in the beginning, every blow hurt. He was in so much pain tears escaped his eyes or sweat, maybe it was blood running down his face. Stiles heard a rattle in the distance; a blurry figure he assumed belonged to Grandpa Argent was standing over him, he took something and the blows stopped. He silently prayed that was the end of it.
The pain; the embarrassment and his suffering were making Stiles feel like a few punches could end his life. He felt like he was gonna die inside that basement by the hands of a psychotic old man. He hated the thought of causing his father pain. Not only being a pain in the ass but also leaving him alone. The torture? He found out the hard way he could take, he was a grown boy after all. Leaving his father to suffer the loss of yet another loved one? That could tear him apart. The thought hurt more than any blow to the gut. That brought on yet another thing he wasn't ready for. He could feel the lanky fingers of a panic attack gripping his heart, ready to inject fear inside his system. He saw Grandpa Argent approaching him with an excitement shine in his eyes and he was getting too close to him for his liking. "Dude, personal space," but his comment fell flat. Both sarcasm and breathing got harder for him to do. His senses were dulling so he didn't comprehend what was coming 'til it was too late. Before the panic attack could do its job, he felt his skull bounce off the cold ground and darkness embraced him with open arms.
He woke up with the mother of all headaches, "No school for Stiles today" he thought but then he felt the gravel beneath him not his soft bed and just like that everything came back to him. That's when he jolted in panic which made everything flare into misery and he couldn't stifle the groan that escaped through his hurt lips. He laid down again because sitting up wasn't worth the agony. His face felt swollen and stiff, like plastic, except that plastic didn't hurt. He felt a sting on his cheekbone when he pressed around, he did so with more force than he intended "Son of a…!" the pain traveled to his eye and ear in waves. He was scared of trying sitting up again because he might've felt something shifting inside the first time around, he wasn't a 100 percent sure… Still he needed to check his surroundings and figure out his next move. Stop being a whining baby Stiles… he told himself. He looked around, his vision was blurry but he recognized the area, he was on the parking lot of the school, next to his jeep. Judging by the emptiness, the game had been over for hours. "Great, the one game I actually get to play and I miss all the after game action." He bitterly thought as he carefully got up and searched for his keys.
Slowly but surely he got inside the car with a groan here and a moan there. Once on the driver's seat he took a moment to collect himself. He was sore all over. He looked at the damage on the rearview mirror. His face was swollen, bruises were forming and blood was clotting. He cleaned his wounds with an old water bottle he found in the jeep and used his own jersey because the thing was already bloody. He sure as hell wasn't going to give Grandpa Argent the satisfaction of letting his best friend see him "bloodied and beaten to a pulp". The statement was still quite visible on the injured face. His phone vibrated on the passenger seat, he flipped and read "where are you?" it was a text from Scott. Speak of the devil… threw the phone back to where it was and he looked back at himself in the mirror. "Sorry Gerard, I refuse to be a pawn in your game." He said as anger ran through his system giving him the strength he needed to drive home and for the first time that night he wished Derek had been around to help him…