So this is a new story I've started. I hope you like it!

Getting up in the morning was a normal routine for Stiles, of course, and it would go the same way every single day. He would be awoken harshly by his alarm blaring at exactly 6am, where he would then proceed to clamber out of bed, somehow managing to stumble over his own two feet on the way to the bathroom, where he would take a leak, almost missing the bowl in his bleary eyed tiredness, as usual.

He would then brush his teeth, spilling toothpaste over his shirt, like always, and having to put the shirt in the wash before heading back into his room to get dressed. He would pick out his clothes, preferably jeans, a shirt, and then a shirt to go over the top like an over shirt, sometimes added with a hoodie on extra cold days.

It would then be the casual walk downstairs, not bothering to be quiet with his footsteps on the creaky wooden stairs since his dad would have already left for work at four, just like always. Shovelling breakfast down his throat, which consisted of a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice, along with the usual Adderall dosage to keep him mentally stable for the day which was probably going to be filled with danger at every turn. Did he mention to say that happened like, all the time?

He's about to leave when the realization would hit him that his textbooks are, weirdly, still in his room, and he would rush back upstairs and stuff them in his backpack, messily of course, before rushing back downstairs and dashing out the door. He would then search for his Jeep keys which are meant to be in his pocket, but of course are still on the table in the kitchen. It's amazing how forgetful he is, isn't it?

He finds himself making a hurried break back inside and collecting them, then making his way out again, but not before locking the door behind him, missing the lock ten times before eventually getting the key in. He would stumble on his feet frequently while running to the Jeep, fumbling with the door and ignition before finally being able to start driving to school.

The drive, of course, is filled with red lights that seem to turn up rather unexpectedly, and his usual drive which is meant to take 10 minutes is lengthened to 25 minutes. He curses some interesting words, colourful vocabulary actually, and is late to school by at least an hour. He already knows that Mr Harris is going to have so much fun spending time in detention with him, making up really nice snarky comments about how he's never going to get anywhere in life and that he is a no hoper student with a concentration capacity of an Adderall induced goldfish. Good times, right?

Well anyway, he makes his way to Mr Harris's classroom, sneaking a peak in and seeing Scott sitting in the normal seat, as usual. He's starting to think that maybe he can just have today off, wag school and go visit Mr Mc'Broody pants aka Derek Hale/sourwolf. It's his plan, of course, that is ruined speculatively by Harris calling out him name rather loudly, head turned to the door that he is trying expertly to hide against.

"Well, it seems Mr Stilinski has finally decided to join us." Harris has the impulsive glare going on and Stiles just wants to slink away unnoticed. But, of course he finds himself walking through the door anyway, head down as he makes his way to the desk beside Scott. He gets his books out and is aware of everyone staring at him and whispering to each other but he ignores them. His head turns when Scott taps his shoulder.

"What?" He hisses.

Scott is taken aback by his reaction but shakes it off. "Hey, why were you late?" He asks, and his brown eyes are a tad concerned. It's not often Stiles is late since he is actually very good at being on time, so this being late thing is weird.

"Car trouble," Stiles says bluntly, turning back in his seat to face the front where he is sure Harris is giving him the angry 'pay attention' look.

"But your jeep is fine, hasn't had any trouble in years. Well apart from when the Alpha ripped out y-" Scott stops talking when Stiles turns around again, eyes narrowed. "Sorry dude, but you get what I mean," he shrugs.

"I don't know, okay? It just wouldn't start so I had to hotwire it and it took a lot longer than I thought it would." He doesn't want to tell his best friend the real reason why he was late; teasing and being made fun of that he was a weapon of jinx was sure to be expected.

Scott just nods quickly, seeing that Stiles is in no mood to be messed around with. "Okay then, just - just make sure to get it checked out. If you come late again I don't think Harris will be all too kind about it."

"Of course." Stiles rolled his eyes, turning back in his seat again, ignoring the confused look from Scott and letting his head plonk down on the desk. He listens to Harris explain some weird new theorem for the rest of the lesson, trying to concentrate but effectively zoning out for the last half.

"Mr Stilinski, would you care to share to the class what we have just been discussing?"

Oh crap.

Yep, he is so dead.

He lifts his head up and sees Harris staring at him though his glasses, lips curled up slightly like he knew that Stiles had no idea what the hell they were talking about. "Um, no sir. No idea," he replies. Everyone is staring at him now and he is well aware of Jackson snickering something to Danny.

"Well then, I guess you should be paying more attention. I believe most human beings use these things on our head, ears I presume, correct Mr Stilinski?" The whole class laughs and Stiles just groans.

"Yes Mr Harris," he grits. He knows how this goes. He gets mocked by Harris then laughed at by the class. Oh look, they're all counted for. He's just waiting for what's coming next.

"I think an after school detention is in order, don't you agree Stiles?"

Yep, and there it is.


"Yeah, whatever." He waves it off dismissively. Everyone is shocked at how well he took it and even Harris's eyes have widened a fraction. The surprise lasts only a few seconds and soon everyone is listening to Harris continue talking about his stupid theorem.

A couple more minutes in the lesson and he begins to feel sick. His head is doing mini drum rolls and his mouth is dry, like really dry, and he has this off feeling in his stomach, a white hot prick sensation. He is stuck in the middle of wanting to throw up and wanting to pass out. He hears Scott whispering to him but he's not sure what he's saying, he's not really sure what anyone is saying right now, not even Harris, who tends to voice his opinions pretty loudly. All he is aware of is that right now his body is feeling all yucky and he really needs to throw up, the faint 'passing out' sensation fully compensated by bile that is beginning to rise in his throat.

"Hey Harris, you mind if I use the rest room? Don't feel too good." He manages to raise his hand, head still on his desk and eyes squinted in the direction of Mr Harris who has stopped teaching and is now glaring at him rather… concerned?

Scott is now leaning over his desk and is right in Stiles' face. "Dude, you okay? You don't look too good," he says worriedly.

"Bloody fantastic," he croaks, aware that his voice sounds exceptionally scratchy.

"Yes, of course. D-Do you need to go see the nurse?" Harris is actually sounding like he gives a shit and Stiles is starting to wonder if he's hallucinating.

"Nope, I'm fine. I - I just need to use the restroom." Stiles shakily stands up, head spinning; his knees nearly buckle but Scott is suddenly standing there and holding him up by the arm.

"Mr Harris, I'll take Stiles up to the nurse," Scott said, picking up his bag. Still supporting Stiles, he went over and packed away his friend's books into his bag and slung his and Stiles' bag over his shoulder before helping Stiles walk out of the classroom.

Stiles knew that Scott lied to Harris and is actually taking him to the restroom for they are headed the opposite way to the nurse's office. When they get there Scott puts the bags down and guides Stiles to sit on a bench and sits down next to him. He's aware of his friend's brown eyes that are staring at him puppy like, wide and concerned before he speaks.

"What the hell happened back there, Stiles? You looked like you were going to collapse. If I hadn't caught you, you would have definitely been in the nurse's office." Scott is trying to contain his emotions that are, of course, heightened by his wolf like nature.

Stiles just stared at Scott, eyelids fluttering. "I-I'm fine Scott. Just didn't feel all too good," he mumbles. The need to throw up is still present but God be damned if he was going to throw up in front of Scott.

"I know you're lying. Stiles, your heart skipped," Scott said bluntly.

"Just let it go Scott. I'm fine," Stiles groaned, keeling over when the bile seemed to rise further. Looks like throwing up in front of Scott was going to have to go ahead as planned because before he knew it all he had eaten for breakfast this morning was on the floor at his feet.

"Okay. Stiles, tell me what's wrong," Scott commands, voice slightly wavering and losing the authority it's meant to have.

Stiles is about to reply, really, he is, but the thing that stops him is the next load of vomit that seems to spew from his mouth. He's aware of Scott shaking his shoulders and yelling and it's all too melodramatic. He head is pounding in his ears and his stomach is twisting in ways he never thought possible.

"Stiles, answer me! Stiles! No, Stiles don't you dare close those eyes! Stiles! Stay awake! STILES!"

Yep, and that's when he's met with the wonderful inky black colour that is unconsciousness.

What do you think?



Please let me know if you think I should continue.

More chapters to come if people are interested! :D