#i got into a pretty gnarly car accident this morning but I’M TOTALLY FINE

[racingreen]

Guess who got to ride in a nice ass mercedes today (it was an ambulance 🤪)

[my-random-ocs]

Chapter 5: The Tell

Pairing: Stiles x OC (eventually)

Warnings: Language, mention of dead bodies, blood

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I sift through the DVDs on the rack, trying to find The Da Vinci Code. It is one of mine and Griffin’s favorites, and he wants it for movie night. Suddenly, the bell on the door jangles. I look up to see Jackson looking around. I close my eyes. Great. Just what I needed, to see this asshole. I finally spot The Da Vinci Code on the shelf behind me and grab it.

“Can somebody help me find The Notebook?” Jackson calls. He turns and spots me. “Hey,” he says to me. I half-wave in response. He glances at the DVD in my hand, raising an eyebrow. “The Da Vinci Code?”

I nod. “It’s one of my favorites. My brother wanted it for movie night.”

Jackson shakes his head in disbelief. “How do you like that movie?”

I scoff. “Tom Hanks is one of the greatest actors,” I defend. “What's so great about The Notebook?”

Jackson sighs, exasperated. “It was Lydia’s idea.”

I smirk. “I’m sure.”

He turns away with a huff. “Hello!” He calls, walking further into the store. No one answers. “Hello? Is anybody working here?” It’s silent except for the broken light buzzing on the ceiling. Curious, I start walking behind Jackson.

The phone starts ringing, but nobody answers. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jackson sighs. I look around the corner and see a pair of feet sticking out of the aisle.

“Hey,” I say, tapping Jackson on the shoulder. He turns to see what I am looking at and we start walking toward the feet. Please be just unconscious, please be just unconscious. We round the corner and I let out a strangled gasp, quickly covering my mouth. Definitely not just unconscious. I look down at the body of an employee, blood gushing from his neck.

Jackson backs up into a ladder, sending the light crashing down. He falls to the side to avoid getting hit as the power goes off. Red lights flash as Jackson gets up. We turn and see a pair of glowing red eyes at the other end of the room. Eyes wide, Jackson grabs my arm and shoves me next to him between two aisles. I am crouching on his left, my back against the shelves.

Jackson peeks around the corner of the rack, but quickly looks away. I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I am determined to not die in the fucking vampire romance section next to Jackson fucking Whittemore.

Movies fall around us, signaling the creature is moving. Suddenly, I hear banging and realize the aisles are falling like dominos. Jackson and I attempt to get out of the way, but the aisle falls, trapping us underneath.

I can’t see anything around the piles of movies around me, besides Jackson’s feet in my face. I try to shift, but realize the entire weight of the rack is on top of me. My vision slowly fades to black.

____________

Next thing I know, I am sitting on the step of an ambulance holding an ice pack to my head and sitting next to Lydia. Two police cars pull up, and Noah gets out of one of them, my brother getting out of the other. I look inside the sheriff’s car and am relieved to see my best friend sitting in it.

“Vivian,” Griffin sighs in relief, wrapping me in a hug. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” I say.

He pulls away, keeping a grip on my shoulder, and turns to the paramedic. “She’s just fine, sir,” the paramedic says. “One of the aisles collapsed on top of her; it’s a miracle she doesn’t have any broken bones. Not even a concussion.”

“Why the hell can’t I just go home?” Jackson demands, gaining our attention. I can feel him getting angrier by the second. I wince at his volume. “I’m fine!”

“I hear ya, but the EMT says you hit your head pretty hard,” Noah says, walking up to us. “They just want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“What part of ‘I’m fine’ are you having a problem grasping?” He asks, keeping one hand latched to Lydia’s, his free hand waving in the air with his words. “Okay, I wanna go home.”

“And we understand that,” Griffin says, moving to stand next to Noah, in an attempt to calm Jackson down.

“No, you don’t understand,” Jackson insists, “which kind of blows my mind, since it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum-wage rent-a-cop like you two!”

I glare at Jackson as I shoot up from my seat, totally done with his attitude. “Hey!” I exclaim. “There’s no need to take your anger out on them!” Stiles gets out of the car and moves over to me.

Jackson ignores me and keeps yelling. “I want to go home!” At Jackson’s volume, Stiles steps closer to me. Before he can speak, a movement to the side gets his attention.

“Oh, whoa, is that a dead body?” Stiles exclaims. I turn to see the gurney with the dead employee on it, and immediately tense. Noticing this, Stiles places a comforting hand on my shoulder.

Throwing Stiles a look, Noah starts shouting orders to the crowd. “Everybody back up,” he says.

As he does that, Griffin turns to me. “I’m going to get you home, okay?” I nod, and he walks over to Noah to tell him we’re leaving. I turn to give the ice pack back to the paramedic, but she shakes her head. “You keep it, honey,” she smiles.

“Thanks,” I say quietly.

“You okay?” Stiles asks, his hand still on my shoulder.

I shrug. “I’ll be fine.” I must not be very convincing because he puts an arm around me in an awkward hug.

After a second, he lets go and Griffin reaches us. “You ready, kiddo?” I nod.

“I’ll see you,” I say to Stiles as Griffin and I walk toward his car.

____________

“Hey, Byrne,” a voice behind me calls the next day at school. I turn to see Jake Johnson, one of Jackson’s buddies, come up behind me.

“Oh, uh, hey Jake,” I say, fiddling with the strap of my backpack.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Where is he going with this?

“What’s that gnarly scar behind your right shoulder?” He asks, no reservation in his tone.

I laugh nervously, tensing. “What? What are you talking about? How do you even know about that?”

Jake shrugs. “My girlfriend saw it in the locker room, before gym. What’s it from?”

I start to shrink away, trying to make myself smaller. “Not your business.”

“Oh, come on, just tell me,” he insists.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Viv, come on.”

“Don’t call me Viv,” I snap.

“Fine, Vivian,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Is it from the car accident?”

I freeze. “How did you-?”

“Jackson told me about it last week,” he informs me. I hold back a groan. Great. Yet another reason to hate Jackson Whittemore. “Come on- is that it?”

“It’s not your business, Jake,” I say, starting to walk faster.

“Vivian-” He grabs my shoulder and I don’t waste a second to whip around, bringing my fist back and slamming it into his nose.

He stumbles back, blood gushing from his nose, shouting, “What the hell? Why did you do that?”

I don’t answer, instead breathing hard, rubbing my hand. Wow, punching someone hurts.

Before I know it, teachers are surrounding us. I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to see Stiles. “You okay?” He asks, concern in his eyes.

I nod. “I’m fine.” I turn back to Jake. “Leave me alone,” I say, cursing myself when my voice cracks. With that, I walk off.

____________

“Just a friendly reminder,” Harris says. “Parent-teacher conferences are tonight. Students below a ‘C’ average are required to attend. I won’t name you, because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment.” He stops at the desk Stiles and I sit at and asks, “Has anyone seen Scott McCall?”

We shake our heads when Harris looks to us for an answer. We saw Scott this morning, before classes, but haven’t seen him since.

Just then, the door opens and shuts, Jackson walking through. As he sits at his desk, Harris goes over to him and leans down, obviously trying to have a private conversation, but since no one is talking, everyone can hear his words. “Hey, Jackson. If you need to leave early for any reason, you let me know.” Jackson nods and catches my eye, and I give a small smile and a thumbs up to let him know I’m fine. He answers with his own thumbs up. I don’t like the guy, but he did make sure I stayed safe last night, even if a shelf did end up falling on me.

Harris turns back to me. “Vivian, that goes for you, too.” I shrink back as everyone’s eyes dart between Jackson and I.

“Everyone, start reading chapter nine,” he continues, walking up to the chalkboard. “Mr. Stilinski. Try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It’s chemistry- not a coloring book.” Stiles and I exchange an eye roll, and he spits the highlighter cap that was between his lips into the air, catching it before it lands on the ground.

Glancing at Jackson, he leans forward to get Danny’s attention. “Hey, Danny. Can I ask you a question?”

“No,” Danny says simply.

“Well, I’m going to, anyway.” I snort. “Um, did Lydia show up in your homeroom today?”

Danny sighs, glancing at Jackson before answering, “No.”

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Answer’s still no.”

“Does anyone know what happened last night?”

Yes, I do. And I told Stiles what happened last night, when it happened.

“He wouldn’t… tell me,” Danny admits.

“But he’s your best friend,” Stiles says. Way to state the obvious. Danny just shrugs, and Stiles leans forward again. “One more question.”

“What?”

“Do you find me attractive?”

I facepalm. Danny doesn’t answer, and Stiles leans forward more, but the stool slips and he falls forward with a clatter. He catches himself and I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to hold back a laugh as everyone looks in our direction.

“Graceful as ever,” I whisper as Stiles sits back on his stool, which earns me a small glare, but I just smile at him.

____________

The bell rings and I walk out of science class with Stiles, who is leaving another message for Scott. As students move quickly through the hall, I keep my head low and hug my books close to my chest. Maybe coming to school today wasn’t such a good idea.

“Hey,” Stiles says, falling into step with me. “How you doin’? How’s your hand?”

I shrug. “I’m fine.”

Stiles furrows his eyebrows. “You’re sure?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, Stiles, I am sure.”

He examines my face to determine if I’m lying or not. “You could’ve stayed home. I would’ve brought your homework to you.”

“Yeah, I probably should have stayed home,” I acknowledge, facing forward. “I just... I needed a distraction today.”

“If you want a distraction, I’m going to check on Lydia, if you want to come.”

I tense. “I think I’m just going to head home.” I know that if I see Lydia, I might lose it. It’s best if I stay away for now.

Stiles nods and we continue walking down the hall toward our next class.

“You know,” he says, “it’s about time someone punched Johnson.”

We share a small laugh as we walk into our history class.

____________

A knock on my door causes me to look up from my book. I see Griffin standing in the doorway. “Please tell me I’m going to hear good things tonight at this parent-teacher conference,” he says.

I smile nervously. “I’m not failing any classes,” I say.

He chuckles. “I’ll see you later tonight. Get some rest.” I nod, and he leaves.

My phone chimes and I see a text from Stiles. Have you heard from Scott?

I text back that I haven’t.

After a minute, he texts me again. I found something on Lydia’s phone. She caught the alpha on video.

I gasp. That was not what I was expecting. You know you have to delete the video, right?

I know. I already did.

After another minute, I take a deep breath and send another text. Hey, can I come with you to the school tonight, so I can meet Griffin? I don’t really want to be home alone right now.

It takes only a few seconds for Stiles to respond. Of course. I’m on my way.

____________

3rd Person POV

“Jackson’s a highly motivated student,” Mr. Harris begins his conference with the Whittemores. “In fact, I’d describe him as ‘unusually driven.’”

Mr. and Mrs. Whittemore both nod. “Yeah, we were hoping he might ease up on himself a little,” Mr. Whittemore says. “He’s always been real hard on himself. It’s just, you know, something we assumed was an effect of him being adopted.”

“I think I understand,” Mr. Harris says. “He’s never met his biological parents.”

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s the need to please, the overachieving, the desire to make someone proud- someone he’s never even met.”

“Something certainly seems to have recalibrated his desire for achievement several notches higher. Not to be too blunt about it, he seems almost obsessed.”

~~~

“Let me tell you, there’s plenty to say about Lydia,” Ms. Ramsey smiles at Mr. and Ms. Martin.

“Did I not predict this?” Mr. Martin asks, turning to his ex-wife.

“Here we go,” Ms. Martin sighs, shaking her head. “Total nuclear meltdown as usual.”

“What is it?” Mr. Martin asks Ms. Ramsey. “Is it her grades, concentration issues, erratic behavior?” He throws each statement over to his ex-wife, who is not having any of it.

“I’m not the one who told her she had to choose who she wants to live with, as if that wouldn’t warp a sixteen-year-old girl,” she shoots back.

“Just tell us what the problem is,” Mr. Martin says to Ms. Ramsey.

She chuckles. “I wasn’t aware that there was a problem.” Ms. Martin tosses a smug look over to her ex-husband, who gives an annoyed look in return. “Academically, Lydia’s one of the finest students I’ve ever had. Her A.P. classes push her GPA above a 5.0. I’d actually like to have her I.Q. tested. And socially, she displays outstanding leadership qualities. I mean, she’s a real leader.”

~~~

“Stiles, that’s right,” Coach Finstock says, sifting through the messy pile of files on his desk. “I thought ‘Stiles’ was his last name.”

“His last name is ‘Stilinski’,” Noah says, already slightly annoyed with the teacher.

“You named your kid ‘Stiles Stilinski’?”

“No, that’s just what he likes to be called.”

Coach goes back to searching the files, saying, “Oh. Well, I like to be called ‘cupcake’... What is his first name?” Noah reaches over and points to the file that had been at the top of the pile the whole time. Coach’s eyes bug out. “Wow, that’s a form of child abuse.” He brings the file closer to his face, turning it this way and that. “I don’t- I don’t even know how to pronounce that.”

“It was his mother’s father’s name,” Noah says, smiling slightly.

“Wow,” Coach laughs. “You must really love your wife.”

“Yeah, I did,” he nods.

Coach stops. “Well, this just became incredibly awkward.”

Noah leans forward. “Hey, what do you say we get to the conference part of this conference, cupcake?”

“I like your thinking.” He flips through some papers, and continues, “So, Stiles. Great kid. Zero ability to focus. Super smart. Never takes advantage of his talents.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, for his final question on his midterm exam, he detailed the entire history of the male circumcision.”

“Well, I mean, it does have… historical significance, right? I mean-”

“I teach economics,” Coach says bluntly.

“Ah, crap,” Noah sighs.

~~~

“Where the hell are you?” Melissa snaps into her phone, leaving yet another voicemail for Scott. “Get to the school now.”

“How about we get started?” Harris suggests as Melissa hangs up.

“Sure."

“Lately, Scott’s mind has been somewhere else, as has his body. Personally, I think it may have something to do with his home situation.”

“Oh, well, personally, I’m not sure what you mean by ‘home situation.’”

“Uh, specifically the lack of an authority figure.”

Melissa shakes her head, still confused. “Yeah, I’m the authority figure, so…”

“Sorry, allow me to clarify. I mean the lack of a male authority figure.”

“Oh. Well, trust me, we’re much better off without him in the picture,” she says, checking her phone to see if Scott answered back.

“Well, does Scott feel the same way?” Harris asks.

“Yes,” Melissa answers immediately, before switching to, “I think so. I hope so.”

“Scott’s one of my most intriguing students. You can tell there’s something different about him, something special. But he’s going through some difficult changes. He just needs a… little extra attention, a guiding hand through this crucial stage of his development.”

~~~

“Now, Vivian is extremely bright; she is my brightest student,” Mr. Brennan, Vivian’s history teacher, says. “I’ve been going over her files in other classes, and her A.P. classes push her GPA above a 5.0. I would actually like to have her I.Q. tested.” Griffin smiles to himself, proud of his sister. “Socially, she hasn’t been doing too well. So far, she hasn’t joined any clubs. I’ve only seen her talking to a few kids in the school. She seems to be close to one of my students in particular- a Stiles Stilinski.”

Griffin nods. “Yeah, we actually grew up with the Stilinskis. Stiles’s parents were mine and Vivian’s godparents.”

“Well, I know she’s new, and it may take her time to make more friends, but I suggest that she branches out a little more.” Griffin nods again, and Mr. Brennan continues. “However, despite her grades, she is slightly violent.”

“What are you talking about?” Griffin asks, the smile fading. “Vivian isn’t violent.”

“This morning, just before my class, Vivian punched a boy in the nose. It’s not broken but he’ll be wearing an ice pack for a few days.” At the shocked look on Griffin’s face, Mr. Brennan continues. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you about this.”

Griffin shakes his head. “No, this is the first I’m hearing about this. Do you know what happened? Did Vivian have a reason?”

“She wouldn’t say. I know that she had a few incidents like these before.”

“When she was younger,” Griffin nods. “After our parents and sister died. But the last time this happened was last year. And it only happened two times besides today.”

“Has Vivian gotten any professional help back then? Someone to talk to?”

“Like a therapist? No. I tried getting her to go but she never wanted to.”

“If these incidents continue, I think she should seek help,” Brennan suggests. Griffin opens his mouth to speak, but Harris interrupts. “It does not have to be a professional therapist, but I at least advise the school counselor. It might do her some good.”

~~~

“Allison Argent,” Ms. Ramsey says. Allison’s parents, Chris and Victoria, sit in front of her. “An incredibly sweet girl.” Both Chris and Victoria smile at that. “And quick to adjust, despite all the moving around.”

Allison’s parents exchange a glance, and Chris says, “We know it’s hard on her, but uh, it’s a necessary evil.”

“Necessary or not, I’d be prepared for some…” Ms. Ramsey sighs. “How do I put this?”

“Rebelliousness?” Chris guesses.

“We appreciate the concern,” Victoria says, “but we have a great relationship with our daughter. Very open and honest.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Ms. Ramsey says. “And let her know that I hope she’s feeling better.”

Both Chris and Victoria send the teacher a confused look. “Oh, she wasn’t in class?” Chris asks.

“Oh, she wasn’t in school. I checked with the office.”

~~~

“So, how’d it go?” Noah asks as he falls into step with Griffin.

“Well, Vivian punched a boy in the nose this morning,” Griffin says simply. Wanting to change the subject, he asks, “How’s Stiles?”

“Oh, you know, he doesn’t know one class from the other,” Noah sighs.

“Oh.” Griffin pauses. “Hey, do you ever feel like you don’t know what you’re doing?”

Noah shrugs. “All the time, son. That’s the secret of parenting.”

“It’s just- when it comes to kids, the plan was always that I would be married first… in my thirties, with a partner that I love. And when I had them, they would be babies.” Griffin sighs. “I wasn’t supposed to be a twenty-four-year-old guardian to a sixteen-year-old girl, and I don’t even have a partner.”

Noah stops walking, placing a hand on his godson’s shoulder. “Look, Griffin, it’s always going to be hard looking after Viv. It’s hard looking after any kid by yourself, not just in your situation. But, you are not by yourself. You got me. I may not always have the answers, but I like to think I’m doing okay with Stiles.” He sighs. “Anything you need, you come to me.”

“Thanks, Noah,” Griffin says.

____________

Viv’s POV

“Hey, kiddo.” I look up to see my brother walking out of the classroom.

“How’d it go?” I ask nervously, getting up from the bench I was sitting on.

“You are doing amazing in all of your classes,” he starts. My face brightens. “All your teachers raved about how despite the recent move and everything in Los Angeles, you’re doing better than most of your classmates.” He takes a breath and says, “However-”

“There’s a however?” I ask, fidgeting anxiously. “What’s the however for?”

“However, I had a chat with Mr. Brennan a little while ago,” Griffin says, sitting down on the bench, and I follow suit. “Said you punched a boy right before his class.”

I close my eyes, wincing. “Viv, what happened?” He continues. “You haven’t had an incident like this since before we moved here.”

“He was asking about the accident,” I sigh. “Said his girlfriend saw the scar on my shoulder in the locker room during gym and wanted to know where I got it. I couldn’t take it, so I punched him.”

Griffin sighs. “Viv, you can’t keep punching people every time they annoy you."

I nod. “I know that. This wasn’t some kid annoying me. This was a dick harassing me about my personal business, and he wouldn’t let up.” I shake my head. “Look, I’m sorry I keep doing this.”

“I know you are,” he says, smiling slightly. He nods toward my hand. “How’s the hand?”

I flex my fingers a little. “A little sore, but fine. Why?”

“Because when we get home, I’m going to teach you how to throw a proper punch.” I look at him in shock. “First tip: keep your wrist straight so you don’t jam it.”

I nod. “Good to know,” I say, smiling.

Griffin stands, smirking, and says, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” As we walk outside, we hear screams coming from the parking lot.

I look around, but can’t find the source of the panic. I spot Scott, Allison, and their parents and we quickly head over to them. Griffin begins walking quickly toward a group of people to see what is going on. “Griffin,” I call, fear creeping into my voice.

He turns back to me. “Stay there,” he tells me before walking away.

As I hear a growl, I slam my eyes closed as flashes from last night appear in my mind. I hear a car horn and open my eyes to see a vehicle speeding toward me. I realize I won’t be able to move fast enough to get out of the way. Suddenly, someone picks me up by my waist and puts me down a few feet away. I look up and see Stiles standing in front of me, his hands on my shoulders.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned-filled eyes flitting between my own widened ones.

I nod quickly, clinging to Stiles's wrists, trying to calm down by taking deep breaths, but it’s not working. My eyes flit around the parking lot, trying to find my brother. Suddenly, a gunshot rings through the air, and Stiles instinctively pulls me closer as we duck behind a pillar.

Everyone begins to crowd in one area and Stiles and I follow. On the ground is a mountain lion, now dead thanks to Mr. Argent. That’s when I notice Noah on the ground, my brother kneeling next to him. “Dad!” Stiles cries, immediately kneeling down to check on his father. People crowd around Noah, but he waves them off as my brother calls dispatch.