Prompt: Stiles is injured during a lacrosse game and later finds out that Erica reacted in a not so pleasant way (worried, inconsolable, angry, revengeful, had to be held back/forced to leave the game, etc.)
Word Count: ~1400. Not sure. I'm on my phone.
These are the nights Erica lives for.
The air is brisk and the wind whips Lydia's hair around until it gets stuck in her lip gloss and Allison has to brush it back with a laugh. Derek's scarf always blows in Erica's face, and she has to zip it back into his jacket because Derek is a child sometimes.
People around her scream and she whoops and hollers with them every time someone scores a goal. She always jumps to her feet when Stiles has the ball, because it's like magic to see him become suddenly graceful and strong; sure as he runs down the field.
Derek will smirk at her when she does it, and she'll shove at his head until he looks back at the field.
It's not like she only watches Stiles, it's just that…Stiles is often the most entertaining. The prettiest boy on the field, too, but she never said that within Jackson's hearing range. He always got so upset.
But, yeah, she's watching Stiles when the absolute mammoth from the other school runs into him, breaking his leg.
It's his bad leg, where he broke it last year when he got kidnapped by the alphas. Objectively, she knows that the leg is weaker because of the previous break and that's why it broke again. Right now, she just knows that she's going to murder the kid who did it. Who cares that he's the size of Boyd?
She shoves her way through the crowd, Derek hurrying after her. Melissa McCall is running toward Stiles, as well as the medics on duty. She ignores the crowd converging on Stiles and runs straight at the guy who's walking smugly back to his huddled team.
It's the smugness that really sets her off, okay? If she'd been normal, she wouldn't have picked up on the smell of it or the way he was walking (like Jackson).
As it is, she isn't normal.
Erica grabs the back of his jersey and yanks him backward slamming him into the ground. "What the hell is your problem?"
He lurches to his knees, looking utterly confused. Any other time it might have been funny.
She's about to rip his helmet off and punch him until she knocks at least two teeth out, but then Derek is grabbing her and pulling her back, growling in her ear. Don't you dare.
Message received. She goes limp in his grip but doesn't stop scowling at the guy. "You're lucky you're alive," she snarls at him.
The confusion turns to terror.
A man dressed in black and white ambles over to them and says, "Ma'am, we're gonna have to ask you to leave the field."
Erica makes to lunge at him, but Derek holds her in place. "Stop it," he commands.
She huffs and turns to watch Stiles get lifted onto a gurney.
"Ma'am, if you don't leave the field, you're going to be escorted off the premises," the ref says.
Derek lets her go and she shakes herself out. "Fine," she says, and storms after Stiles and the medics.
Derek hurries after her. "They won't let you ride in the ambulance."
"So I'll run after them, Derek. Chill."
"You chill. Seriously, Erica, you need to calm down."
"Give me your keys, then," she says.
"No," he says, shaking his head slowly. "But I will drive you."
"You're so possessive of your stupid overcompensating car that it's embarrassing," she huffs, even as she changes directions to walk toward his car.
"And you're possessive of a boy who doesn't know you still like him to the point that you almost killed somebody tonight," he says drily.
"I wasn't going to kill him," she says, aware that her heart skips with the lie. "But he deserved it."
Derek actually rolls his eyes when they reach the car. "You're going to get caught one day, and then the Argents are going to kill us all."
She shrugs. "Unlock the door."
Stiles wakes up in a hospital room with the knowledge that he should be in pain. "Either the drugs are reaaaaally good here," he says to the room at large, "Or a werewolf has been sucking the pain out."
Scott blinks at him from over the edge of his comic book. "It wasn't me, but Erica was in here before me. Feel okay?" He sets the book down and leans forward to paw at Stiles' face.
"Did we win?"
"No," Scott says. "Diggory got the Snitch. Just after you fell, he didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a re-match. But they won fair and square…even Jackson admits it."
"Scott," Stiles says, shutting his eyes. "Stop being a nerd. What happened."
"I thought you liked me being a nerd," Scott says mournfully. "Seriously, the other team won and they are completely unapologetic. Jackson refuses to admit that we might have been better off if you'd been okay, so…it's basically an admission from him."
"Thanks," he says sarcastically. "That means a lot, coming from Jackson."
"I know," Scott agrees. "Anyway, you missed Erica almost eviscerating the dude who did it with her glare alone. She did manage to throw him on the ground before Derek stopped her from The Great Werewolf Reveal."
Stiles makes a noise of protest. "Did you film it? Tell me you filmed it."
"No, dude, I was a little preoccupied with my best friend's broken leg," he says, frowning at him.
"Ugh," he groans in reply. "Well, send her in here so I can thank her for defending my virtue. Also, where's my dad?"
"He fell asleep in the waiting room," Scott says. "Told me not to wake him up. It's like you can't even scare him any more."
"Don't remind me," he sighs. "Okay, Erica, Erica, Erica." He claps his hands in time.
She must have heard him because when Scott opens the door, she breezes in. "Hey, you," she says, taking Scott's now empty seat. "How are you feeling?"
"It's weird when you're nice to me," he answers. "But I'm okay. Did anyone film you throwing it down? Because I am seriously sorry to have missed that.
She shakes her head. "Sorry. I think we were all worried about you." She grins then. "But I was planning on roughing him up later. If you wanted me to film that I'm sure I could manage."
"No, dude, can I be there? That's going to be hot as hell," he says longingly.
"You can film it," she says with a shrug. "As long as it's just for you."
"I never share my porn stash with anyone but Scott," Stiles says blankly. "He doesn't appreciate violence, so, really, just me."
"You know no sexual acts are going to happen," she says, frowning at him.
"I would hope not," he says archly.
Erica sighs and shakes her head. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Anyway, aren't you supposed to thank me or something."
"Oh, yeah!" Stiles says happily. "Thanks! I really appreciate it. Seriously. Also, I think you're probably responsible for how great my leg feels right now, so thanks again."
She leans forward to rest her head on the bed next to his stomach. "People will think I'm going soft," she murmurs, sliding a finger into the cast. The veins on her arm turn black.
"Stop that," he says with a frown. "You'll take too much."
"I can handle the most pain," she reminds him.
He leans down and tugs her hand away from his leg. "I'm okay. I'm doped up on morphine, anyway. Let me be a real boy."
"No," she says, pouting. "Let me take care of you."
"Noooo," he drawls. "Unless you're going to kiss it better. No."
She regards him for a moment. "Not gonna kiss your broken leg."
"I don't want you to," he says. "That's the point."
"But you said—"
"Shhhh," he says, petting her hair. "Shhh. Don't listen to a word I say. I'm super high."
"I never listen to you," she says ruefully.
"You should start that. But probably not now."
"Later I'm going to kiss you," she tells him.
"When you aren't high,"she continues.
"So you can consent."
"Thanks." He beams at her and then says, "Can I get some food now?"
A/N: Consent is important, y'all. Oh so the quote about Cedric is from Harry Potter, in case you missed it.
You guys don't know how happy I get when I think about nerd!Scott. So presh. uwu
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Or Harry Potter.