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CHAPTER ELEVEN; 11

Sage smiled politely at the redhead, thanking her as she stepped into the hospital room. There was a definite temperature change, making her shudder as she pulled on the sleeves of her leather jacket; although, she could just be exaggerating and the shudder was actually from nerves. This was the last place she wanted to be, but she knew that if she didn't come to visit him, she would regret it.

She cleared her throat when she saw the man sitting in the wheelchair, staring out at nothing. Sage had been meaning to visit earlier but she just never had a chance to with her interrogations from the police about Derek, her unexpected visit to the hospital because of Derek, and more importantly, she just didn't have a chance because Derek was apparently killing everyone in Beacon Hills.

She assumed that was definitely a legitimate reason.

Sage walked over to the bed, and took a seat on it, trying to get comfortable as she felt a lump form in her throat.

She was finally able to fully inspect Peter, taking in all of the burns visible on the side of his face. She knew well enough that he wouldn't look the same as he did six years ago, from both age and the fire, she just wasn't expecting for the damage to be so severe. As selfish as it sounded, some part of Sage hoped that someone in her family made it out. Her dad, her mom, Luke, someone.

If Peter made it out alive, someone else could have, right?

"Hey, Peter. It's Sage. I don't know if you remember me much. I kind of ditched the dresses a while back," Sage muttered, pulling her feet up on the bed so she could get comfortable. He just continued to stare at her, eyes void of his surroundings. She knew it was useless to speak to him, almost like talking to a wall, but she needed to try. "So, Derek told me you managed to escape the fire just a few days ago and I decided to visit just to see how you were doing. Um, he's gotten himself into some trouble, and I don't know how to help."

She stared at Peter, hoping that maybe he would answer her or do something — whether that something be raising a finger or start screaming, she just wanted him to help her. He is only person with the knowledge about what happened in the fire, and more importantly, how she can control her abilities.

Sage didn't even know what she was. She just knew she could do things that normal people can't. Normal people don't take casual walks down the sideway then cower in pain when their friends fuck up and get themselves hurt. Normal people don't just randomly receive the same injuries as the people they grew up with.

Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her hands on her face. It was getting late and this conversation was going absolutely nowhere.

"I know that you can't answer me. Hell, I'm basically talking to myself. I'm just scared, and I don't know who to trust anymore. Derek is being so secretive and it feels like we're not a team anymore, and this stupid boy is screwing with my head, and my abilities are seriously becoming a problem to my health. I'm starting to believe wrapping my friends up in bubble wrap is the best solution at this point. There's also an alpha running around chewing up bus drivers and nerdy, video store workers and I'm just going crazy."

She shot her head over to the doorway when she heard a knock, and saw that Jennifer, Peter's nurse, was standing here looking flustered. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but visiting hours are over, Miss Connelly. You can visit tomorrow if you'd like."

"No, it's alright. I have school anyways," Sage replied, giving Peter's hand a squeeze before she walked out of the door, not bothering to spare a glance back at Peter who let a small frown crack on his lips. If only she knew that he was trying to protect her, not hurt her.

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Scott continued to follow his best friend up the hill, eyes wandering over to the bottle of Jack Daniels that Stiles was swinging around. He knew what Stiles was trying to do, it was practically a rite for him to follow. He just refused to believe that the reason for it being done is because Allison broke up with him. They weren't not together they were just taking a break.

Just a break.

Scott got tired of the silence, wanding to know where in hell his best friend was taking him. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Stiles answered, too casual as he took another large step around a hill of mud, making sure that he didn't end up tripping and breaking the only bottle of alcohol he had with him.

Scott sighed, knowing that it was the most he was going to get out of the teenage boy. "Okay, we really shouldn't be out here. My mom is in a constant state of freak-out after what happened at the school."

"Well, your mom isn't the Sheriff, okay?" Stiles huffed out, trying not to remember back to the conversation he had with his father; it hadn't been pretty, and the boy was practically banned from doing anything that could cause him harm. "There's no comparison, trust me."

"Will you at least tell me what we're going to do?" Scott begged, watching as Stiles turned around due to the annoyance he was beginning to feel towards Scott asking so many questions. He should know at this point.

Stiles frowned before starting. "Yes. When your best friend gets dumped—"

"I didn't get dumped!" Scott quickly protested, appalled at the idea of him at the familiar brunette no longer being together. "Alright? We're taking a break."

Stiles stopped to look at him, completely baffled at his idiocy. Choosing the rephrase he words, he tried again. "Alright, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break, you get your best friend drunk."

He held up the bottle of alcohol, sending a wicked grin Scott's way. It didn't take long for the two to down half of the Jack Daniels. Stiles was completely wasted while Scott stayed sober, no matter how much he consumed. It seemed like an overall cure at this point, the werewolf's irritation only growing stronger the more alcohol he had in his system.

Stiles fell back onto the ground, looking up at the sky as he breathed deeply. There wasn't much else in his mind apart from a single name, but he figured that he might as well try to help Scott, no matter how intoxicated and out of reality he might be.

"Dude, you know, she's just one girl. You know there are so many..." Stiles paused, swallowing as he tried to figure out what the words were again. "There are so many other girls in the sea."

Scott rolled his eyes at the drunk boy's incorrect phrase. "It's fish in the sea."

"Fish? Why are you talking about fish? I am talking about girls. God, I love girls. I love 'em. I love— especially ones with blonde hair, green eyes... five foot four, extremely stubborn..." Stiles trailed off, grinning at the thought of the particular person he had in mind.

"Like Sage?" Scott asked, looking over at Stiles with raised eyebrows.

He knew that his best friend liked Sage. He figured that the two would end up together the first time Stiles talked about her. They equaled each other out; Sage didn't take his shit, and he refused to let her win an argument. She scared the hell out of him, and he irritated her to no end. Scott could see the way they looked at each other, and it's no surprise they haven't kissed yet. Personally, he wanted them together.

He wanted his best friend happy even if he wasn't.

"Yeah! Exactly! How did you know I was talking abou—abou— what was I talking about?" When Scott didn't answer him, Stiles started to grin, completely inebriated. "Hey, you're not happy. Take a drink!"

He handed the bottle over to the werewolf, only for the teenage boy to deny it. "I don't want anymore."

Stiles shrugged, returning back to the position he was at before. "You're not drunk?"

"I'm not anything," Scott deadpanned.

"Hey, maybe it's like—maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know? Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf." he paused, and quirked his eyebrows in doubt. "Am I drunk?"

Scott scoffed at the question, glancing down at Stiles. "You're wasted."

"Yeah! Oh come on, dude. I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. Well, actually I don't know. But you know what? As much as being broken up hurts, being alone... it's way worse. I mean— I mean, Sage is making me go crazy with her mind stuff and... and I like her. I just— I don't know, man. I need another drink."

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The next day at school was hell.

Although no one knew who had been a part of the night school incident, one simple clue stuck out like a sore thumb when Sage was seen at the hospital two hours later with injuries that couldn't be inflicted by falling down the stairs or cutting yourself cooking.

So everyone in the school knew that Sage was there, they just didn't know who else. Which really, really sucked. Especially since all the teachers were waiting for her to die in their classroom. Hell, Coach even said if she felt like she was going to 'bite it' to let him know in advance. Students were coming up to her in the morning being their prying, snooping selves trying to figure out what exactly happened Wednesday night.

Sage hated high school.

She also hated tests.

Walking into Harris' classroom, she noticed that everyone was already in their seats and she was the last one to arrive. Biting the inside of her cheek, she tried to ignore everyone's intense stares as she passed by Allison's seat. The brunette gave her a sincere look that was full of pity, and she clenched her jaw tightly. Sage wasn't the happiest with Allison ending things with Scott, but she couldn't just take sides.

"Miss Connelly, if you need to leave for any reason—"

She rolled her eyes and threw her backpack down on the desk next to Stiles, not even bothering to make her entrance quiet. The loud bang of it hitting the top made some of the kids around her jump, it completely startling Stiles, and she honestly couldn't give two shits.

"I'm pretty sure I know the drill by now. I've already been to three classes before this one. I'm not going to die," Sage assured, her tongue pushing on the back of her teeth as she refrained from saying anything else.

She saw Harris holding in his snark comment back to her, rather opting for handing out the tests.

"You have forty-five minutes to complete the test. Twenty-five percent of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book. However, as it happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover and I'll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever become a teacher. So, let's get the disappointment over with. Begin."

Sage huffed out, quickly writing her name on the cover before opening the packet of hell. She already knew that she would bomb this test so there was no reason for her to even try when there was no point. She was seriously considering going in a pattern of choosing 'A' for the first answer, 'B' for the second, 'C' for the third, 'D' for the fourth, and repeating the simulation until she reached the end.

It sounded good to her.

She started on her plan, getting about twenty questions in when she heard someone jerk out of their seat, rushing out of the class. Seeing that it was Scott, she quickly looked down at her test and circled much faster, reaching the end and following the werewolf, throwing the exam on Harris' desk just as he shouted for Scott.

"Taking you up on that offer," Sage explained before jogging out of the classroom.

She faintly heard him shouting out her name as well at Stiles', and she didn't need to look back to know that the spastic teenager was following after her to see what was wrong with his best friend. However, both of them came up empty-handed when they noticed that the hallway outside of the classroom was completely abandoned.

Sage stopped abruptly in the hall when she noticed, and she felt Stiles crash into her like he had done so many times before. He grabbed a hold of her hips like he had done before, assuring that both of them wouldn't go stumbling to the ground, except this time she felt something different when he touched her.

"Where's Scott?" Stiles asked, letting go of her body as he walked around her so they were facing each other. Sage began to shrug when she caught sight of something a little way in front of them. Maneuvering around Stiles, she strode over until she reached the backpack that Scott must have dropped on his way out. "I'll call him."

Sage nodded and grabbed his backpack, standing up and waiting for Stiles to dial Scott's number. When a familiar ringtone started blaring through the empty hallways, the two teenagers didn't hesitate to follow it. They did hesitate when they got into the locker room and heard the shower blasting, Stiles more than Sage though. When they got to the showers, Sage exhaled in relief when she saw that Scott was under the shower head, water falling on his shirtless body.

When Scott turned around, he saw the two of them standing there, and surprisingly said a name neither of them expected. "Sage, I can't—"

"What? Are you changing?" Stiles barged in, trying to forget that his best friend called for Sage instead of him.

"No. No. I can't breathe," Scott explained, leaning on the wall and gasping as he tried to control his breathing. Stiles immediately knew what to do while Sage decided to grab a hold of his neck, trying to get him to lean down further. She really didn't care that he was getting her clothes wet, she just wanted to make sure Scott didn't die from an asthma attack.

"Here!" Stiles said, handing Scott his inhaler. "Use this. Come on, do it!"

Sage stepped away from him, standing in front of Stiles, her back up against his chest. The two of them watched as Scott took a shot of the air in the inhaler.

His breathing became regular after that, and he looked up in confusion, clearly not understanding why the situation occurred. "I was having an asthma attack?"

"No," Stiles denied. "You were having a panic attack. But thinking that you were having an asthma attack actually stopped the panic attack. Irony."

Sage and Scott both stared in surprise. Scott was the one who voiced their thoughts. "How did you know to do that?"

"I used to get them after my mom died. Not fun, huh?" Stiles asked, letting out a breathy laugh. Sage smiled as best as she could, grabbing a hold of his hand knowing that he needed it. Scott kept his eyes on their intertwined before clenching his jaw when he remembered how that felt with Allison.

"I looked at her and it was like someone hit me in the ribs with a hammer."

Stiles shrugged. "Yeah, it's called heartbreak. There are about two billion songs written about it."

"Taylor Swift has got some good ones," Sage input, trying to lighten the mood. Stiles grinned but Scott didn't find amusement in her joke. He threw his head back, and ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to get over her.

"I can't stop thinking about her," Scott admitted.

"Well, you can think about this. Her dad's a werewolf hunter and you're a werewolf so it was bound to become an issue." When Sage landed a hard smack at his chest, he cringed and stared apologetically at Scott. "That wasn't helpful."

Sage groaned before stepping forward to try and save Stiles' ass. "Alright, you got dumped, and it's supposed to suck. But you can't stop living just because of it. You'll be fine, eventually. I promise."

"No, that's not it. It was like I could feel everyone in the room, everyone else's emotions," Scott attempted to explain. Everything was heightened for him at his point, from the smell of Sage's perfume to the thumping of Stiles' heart whenever Sage would squeeze his hand. Everything was louder and stronger.

"It's got to be the full moon," Stiles said. Scott nodded in agreement, and Sage chewed at her lips when she remembered how much trouble Derek used to have on full moons. "So we'll lock you in your room all night. That way the alpha, who is your boss, can't get to you either."

"I think we need to do a lot more than lock me in my room."

Stiles' eyebrows furred. "What, you mean because if you get out, you'll be caught by hunters?"

"No, because if I get out I think I might kill someone."

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"Are you not freaking out? I'm freaking out!"

"What's the point? It's just a stupid title. I could practically smell the jealousy in there."

Scott and Stiles made their way out the door, ready for lacrosse practice. The news was just spread that Scott was now a team captain alongside Jackson while Stiles made first line for the time being after pink-eye swept have the team due to Greenberg. Stiles was beyond ecstatic, having waited for this day since the beginning of freshman year.

"Wait," Stiles said, stopping Scott in place. "You smell jealousy?"

Scott nodded, frowning a bit as he glanced uncomfortably at his best friend. "Yeah, it's like the full moon has turned everything up to ten."

"Huh. Can you pick up on stuff like, I don't know, desire?" Stiles asked, his interest peeked now that he knew what the full moon was doing to Scott.

"What do you mean 'desire'?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Like sexual desire."

"Sexual desire?"

The boy grew exasperated that the werewolf wasn't picking up on what he was trying to say. "Yes! Sexual desire! Lust, passion, arousal."

Scott looked over to see what Stiles continued to glance at, and realized that Sage was standing at the end of the hallway, picking absentmindedly at her nails while she walked around in circles. She was supposed to be waiting for them since she was going to be watching lacrosse practice today with Lydia.

"From Sage?" Scott asked, turning back towards Stiles.

"Wha—no! I mean, in general broad sense, can you detect sexual desire?" Stiles tried to cover up, although it clearly wasn't working because his face started to heat up.

Scott furred his eyebrows. "From Sage to you?"

"Yes, from Sage to me," Stiles hissed, agitated that Scott was so persistent on rubbing in the fact that he liked the blonde. "Look, I need to know if I have a chance with this girl, okay? She's been giving me this vibe and I don't know what to do, and I've thought she was pretty since the third freaking grade with her god damn pigtails."

"So why don't you just ask her?"