[1x03; Pack Mentality]

Olivia was not expecting Scott and Stiles to rush up to her as soon as she got out of Lydia's car, but there they were. They both waved at her with awkward smiles on their faces, obviously trying to apologize to her.

Knowing that they probably needed help with something, she said goodbye to her cousin, ignoring the questioning look Lydia gave her, and walked over to Stiles and Scott.

"What's going on?" she asked bluntly.

"First of all, we're sorry about Derek and your cousin," Scott said quickly.

"Apology accepted. What's going on?" she repeated herself.

Scott and Stiles exchanged a loaded look before Scott confessed, "Okay, I had a dream about Allison. And it was a really weird dream," he said as the three of them turned and walked up to the school together. "At first, we were making out in a school bus but then I lost control and started mauling her."

Olivia hummed, wondering what she was supposed to do about this dream of his. "Okay..."

"So, you killed her?" Stiles asked, opening the door so Scott and Olivia could walk through.

"I don't know," Scott shrugged. "I just woke up and I was sweating like crazy and I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before."

"Really? I have," Stiles announced. "They usually end a bit differently."

Olivia wrinkled her nose, not exactly wanting to know that much information about Stiles.

Scott didn't look pleased to know about Stiles' dreams, either. "Okay, I meant that I've never had a dream that felt that real."

"And can you please not talk about your freaky sex dreams?" Olivia added, looking up at Stiles. "Too much detail."

"All right, noted," Stiles shrugged, unbothered.

"Great," Olivia rolled her eyes and turned to Scott. "Let me guess, you—"

"No," Scott interrupted her. "I don't know you that well but I do know that you think my dream has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow. Like I'm gonna lose control and rip her throat out."

"Frankly, yes," Olivia nodded, catching the annoyed looks both of the boys were throwing her. "What? You came to me for help."

"Okay, Livvy's negativity aside," Stiles spoke up, ignoring the unhappy look Olivia sent his way. "I think you're handling this pretty fuckin' well, Scott. It's not like there's a lycanthropy-for-beginners class you can take."

"There's not a class but there is a teacher," Olivia pointed out the obvious.

"Who, Derek?" Stiles scoffed, looking at Scott for back-up. The idea of going to Derek for help was pretty ridiculous.

Scott shrugged. "Maybe she's right."

Stiles reached over Olivia's head and slapped Scott on the back of his head. "Are you forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?"

"Derek's not petty enough to not help Scott over that," Olivia said, defending her cousin. Though they both hadn't forgiven the new werewolf and his smart-ass best friend, they knew that helping Scott control his change was for the greater good.

"And besides," Scott said, growing more into the idea of asking Derek for help. "chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus? It felt so real."

"How real?" Stiles asked, dodging another student as he opened the door leading out of the school.

"Like it actually happened."

Olivia's eyes fell on the scene before her, her eyes widening in horror.

The bus parked right outside the doors was busted open, its back door almost ripped off its hinges completely. There was blood everywhere, numerous handprints slapped on the windows, seats, and yellow siding. Police officers, including Stiles' dad, hovered around the scene, taking photographic evidence and conducting interviews to the principal and some teachers.

Stiles gasped. "I think it did."

"Shit. Oh, my God. Oh, my God," Scott cursed, whipping his phone from his pocket as he turned to walk back into the school. He frantically texted Allison, hoping that this was just a huge coincidence and that she was safe and already at school.

"She's probably fine," Stiles tried to soothe his best friend as he and Olivia followed him through the hallway.

"She's not answering my texts, Stiles!"

"Scott," Olivia tried, intending to tell him about the text Allison sent her earlier, explaining that she got a late start to the morning. "She's fine. She—"

"Do you see her?" Scott interrupted her, looking around the hallway for the tall brunette.

"It could just be a coincidence, all right?" Stiles said. "A seriously amazing coincidence."

"Just help me find her, okay?" Scott begged before turning down a different hallway.

"Great!" Stiles sighed, as Scott walked away, rubbing a hand over his head. "Now Scott more than likely killed his girlfriend."

"Relax, she's fine," Olivia put a hand on his arm, pulling his hand away from his hair. "Allison texted me earlier. She's just late today."

"What?" Stiles' eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell Scott that?"

"I tried!" she said defensively. "I was interrupted."

Stiles nodded and sighed. "Sorry, sorry."

"It's fine," she waved him off. "You're protective of Scott. I get it. I'm that way with Lydia and Jackson."

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you're friends with that douchebag."

"Well, I've known him for a long time," Olivia wasn't even offended by Stiles' name-calling. Everyone knew that Jackson was an ass—even Jackson knew.

"Attention, students, this is your principal," the overhead speaker squeaked to life. "I know you're all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as scheduled."

Olivia frowned as the rest of her peers groaned. "That doesn't sound like a good environment to conduct an investigation."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed. "But the principal probably insisted on school continuing. You know how they are about their professional development days."

Olivia laughed lightly. "Yeah."

-

-

"Maybe it was my blood on the door," Scott whispered to Stiles, turned around in his seat to talk to his best friend as Mr. Harris droned on and on about covalent bonds.

Stiles shrugged, playing with his pencil. "Could have been animal blood, you know? Maybe you caught a rabbit or something."

"And did what?" Scott raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ate it."

"Raw?"

"No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven," Stiles muttered sarcastically. "I don't know, you're the one who can't remember anything."

"Mr. Stilinski!" Mr. Harris called from the front of the room, his hands on his hips as he glared at his least favorite student. "if that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while."

Stiles scoffed.

"I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?"

"No," Stiles objected, horrified.

Mr. Harris pointed at two empty seats, one in the back and one in the front. Stiles grabbed his bag, textbook, and notes and headed to the empty seat in the back, relieved to find that the seat was next to Olivia.

He couldn't believe his luck.

"Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much," Mr. Harris quipped as Stiles sat at the table next to Olivia.

"I'm good," Stiles smirked, his eyes trailing over to the brunette beauty next to him.

Olivia rolled her eyes at him and focused on her diligent notes.

"Hey," the girl next to Scott shouted, rushing over to the window. "I think they found something!"

Squeals from chairs scraping across the linoleum flooring echoed through the classroom as everyone got out of their seats and ran to the windows. Stiles and Olivia made their way over to Scott, the three of them watching as two paramedics pushed a gurney holding an injured man over to the waiting ambulance.

"That's not a rabbit," Scott murmured to Stiles.

All of a sudden, the injured man shot up, screaming in pain. Everyone shrieked and jumped away from the windows, all shocked by the man's abrupt screams. They all thought that he was dead.

"Okay," Stiles breathed in relief, patting Scott's shoulders. "This is good. This is good. He got up, he's not dead."

"Yeah, just severely injured," Olivia commented, looking back to the man being loaded into the ambulance.

"Not helping," Stiles shot her a stern look before turning back to Scott. "Look, dead guys can't do that."

"Stiles," Scott looked at him with wide eyes. "I did that."

-

"But dreams aren't memories," Stiles protested as he and Scott walked over to their usual lunch table, their trays full of food.

"Then it wasn't a dream," Scott proclaimed, sitting down. "Something happened last night and I can't remember what."

"Okay, but what makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?"

"Because," Scott looked around to see if anyone was listening. "during the full moon, he wasn't changed. He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night, attacking some totally innocent guy."

"You don't know that," Stiles argued.

"I don't not know it," Scott pointed out. "I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel."

"No, you're not canceling, okay?" Stiles shook his head as he picked up the orange from his tray. "You can't just cancel your entire life."

Across the cafeteria, Olivia stood, patiently waiting for Lydia and the rest of their group to get out of the food line. Having brought her own lunch, she didn't have to go through and pick up the nasty food that the lunch ladies were handing out.

Finally, Lydia walked up to her with her tray. "We're sitting with Scott and his friend today."

"We are?" Olivia raised her eyebrows at her cousin, bewildered. "Why?"

"Well, since Allison is dating Scott and you are spending more time with them, I figured we could all get to know each other," Lydia smiled, almost too cheerfully. Olivia was instantly suspicious. "Why were you talking to them, anyway?"

"Oh, uh, Stiles and I have Advanced Spanish together. We have a project coming up and we're partners," Olivia lied. While she and Stiles did have that class together, they didn't have a project. But Lydia didn't need to know the reason why she was actually speaking to Stiles and Scott.

"Hmm," Lydia pursed her lips, still disapproving of Olivia's choice of foreign language. "Let's go, then."

As the two of them approached the table where Stiles and Scott were sitting, they heard Stiles say, "We'll figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Lydia asked, setting her tray down on the table next to Scott.

Olivia took the seat across from her and next to Stiles, sheepishly returning the smile he sent her.

"Uh, homework," Scott said in a way that Olivia knew he was lying.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed before moving his head closer to Olivia to ask her, "Why are you guys sitting with us?"

"Allison," she whispered back.

Just as she said the taller brunette's name, she sat down on the other side of Scott. She grinned at her boyfriend and then greeted him and Stiles. Stiles nodded at her and then turned to Danny, who was sitting on his other side, and grinned. Danny turned away, obviously not happy with his seating arrangement.

Olivia snickered at the frown on Stiles' face at Danny's rejection and opened her lunch pack.

"Get up," Jackson ordered Luke, the guy who sat at the head of the table between Olivia and Lydia.

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" Luke complained, noticing that there weren't anymore open seats at the table.

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot," Danny snarked from down the table. Olivia and Lydia grinned at Danny as he changed the subject. "So, I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar."

"I heard mountain lion," Jackson disagreed with his best friend, shaking his head.

Olivia rolled her eyes, muttering, "A cougar is a mountain lion," at the same time as Lydia.

Olivia smiled at Lydia while Jackson furrowed his eyebrows at her. Lydia instantly corrected herself.

"Isn't it?"

"Who cares?" Jackson asked harshly, not having any empathy for the injured man. "The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."

"Wow, Jackson, that's so compassionate of you," Olivia quipped, rolling her eyes at the blonde.

"Uh, I just found out who it is," Stiles spoke up, his phone in his hand. His dad had just sent him a text with a video detailing the attack and who the victim was. "Check it out."

He held out the phone so everyone could watch the video.

"The Sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack," the male reporter announced on the video as Noah walked around the bus, looking for clues. "Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition."

"Hey, I know this guy," Scott spoke up, his face full of recognition.

"You do?" Allison asked, curious.

"Yeah, when I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad," Scott confirmed. "He was the driver."

Olivia winced and shared a worried look with Stiles. It wasn't good that Scott not only had a dream where he mauled Allison on a bus and someone was actually injured but that he knew the victim, too. Did Scott actually do this?

Why was this becoming so complicated?

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia asked, fed up with hearing about the bus incident. "Like...oh," she turned to Allison with a smile. "where are we going tomorrow night?"

Allison gave her a confused look.

"You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?" Lydia reminded the brunette.

Olivia really hoped that Lydia wasn't inviting herself and Jackson to Scott and Allison's date.

"Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do," Allison glanced at Scott for help.

"Well, I am not sitting at home again watching lacrosse videos," Lydia glanced scornfully at Jackson and continued, "So, if the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun."

"Hanging out?" Scott looked at Allison as he spoke. "Like, the four of us? Do you wanna hang out like us and them?"

Olivia grimaced—this was going downhill so quickly. Guys and girls didn't just hang out. Well, some did but not when they had chemistry like Allison and Scott.

Allison shrugged apologetically. "Yeah, I guess," she looked around Scott at Lydia. "Sounds fun."

"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson sneered lightly, picking up his fork. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."

Olivia rolled her eyes and forced the fork out of his hand. "You're so dramatic."

"How about bowling?" Lydia asked Jackson brightly. "You love to bowl."

"Yeah, with actual competition," Jackson said, giving Lydia a pointed look.

"How do you know we're not actual competition?" Allison leaned forward to ask Jackson, twisting her lips. She looked at Scott. "You can bowl, right?"

Scott grimaced. "Sort of."

Olivia heard Stiles let out a quiet groan and glanced at him as Jackson leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

"Is it sort of or yes?" he confronted Scott.

"Yes," Scott's tone harshened, leaning toward Jackson. "In fact, I'm a great bowler."

Olivia had the feeling that Scott was a terrible bowler.

"Great!" Lydia exclaimed. "We'll meet up tomorrow."

-

-

"You're a terrible bowler!" Stiles exclaimed as he and Scott walked through the school at the end of the day.

"I know!" Scott lamented, disappointed with himself. "I'm such an idiot."

"Yes, you are," Stiles agreed. "God, it was like watching a car wreck. I mean, first it turned into the whole group date thing and then, out of nowhere, comes that phrase."

"Hang out," Scott said, knowing exactly where Stiles was coming from. They both knew what hanging out with a hot girl meant in their experience.

"You don't hang out with hot girls, okay?" Stiles failed his arms in contempt. "It's like death. Once it's hanging out, you might as well be her gay best friend. You and Danny can start hanging out."

Scott groaned. "How is this happening? I either killed a guy or I didn't—"

"I don't think Danny likes me very much," Stiles commented randomly, thinking about the boy he sat next to at lunch.

"—I ask Allison on a date and now we're hanging out—"

"Am I not attractive to gay guys?" Stiles wondered.

"—I make first line and the team captain wants to destroy me and now—now I'm gonna be late for work," Scott sighed, finishing his rant as he walked out of school to get his bike.

"Wait, Scott," Stiles called after him. "You didn't—am I attractive to gay guys? You didn't answer my question!"

-

-

The next evening, Lydia had roped Olivia into helping Allison pick out her outfit for the group date that they were going on. Olivia hadn't wanted to go to the house of known hunters, but she didn't exactly have a choice when her cousin asked her to do something.

So, even though she was kind of hurt she wasn't included in the group date, Olivia found herself perched on Allison's bed in her cardboard box-filled room, watching as the taller brunette tried to find something to wear.

Allison stood in front of her closet, pushing some hangers aside and pulling out an ugly brown shirt. She showed it to Olivia and Lydia, smiling expectantly.

"Mmm," Lydia hummed, her lips wrinkled in disgust. "Pass."

Allison shrugged and put the shirt back in her closet, pulling out another one for the girls to see. Olivia pursed her lips at the hideous multi-colored shirt Allison held up to her torso.

"Pass," she muttered, looking at the time on her phone.

Lydia sighed loudly and hopped up from the bed, walking over to the closet. "Let me see..." she went through the clothes hung up in front of her, eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Pass. Pass. Ugh, pass on all of it. Allison," she turned to the taller brunette and smiled slightly. "my respect for your taste is dwindling by the second."

Olivia snickered under her breath and stood up, making her way over to Lydia and Allison. She searched the closet quickly and pulled out a black shirt covered with soft sequins.

"This one is fine," she handed the shirt to Allison.

Allison smiled slightly and took the shirt, holding it up to her torso to look in her full-length mirror.

The door opened and Mr. Argent walked into the room, his jacket in his hands. He didn't seem to realize that he had just walked in on a room of girls trying to find clothes for a date.

"Dad, hello," Allison greeted her father softly, a pointed look in her eyes.

Mr. Argent paused in realization as he put on his coat and smiled awkwardly. "Right," he nodded. "I'm sorry. I completely forgot to knock."

Olivia sheepishly waved at him while Lydia grinned and plopped herself on Allison's bed, curling up seductively. "Hi, Mr. Argent."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Dad, do you need something?"

Mr. Argent continued to put on his jacket, straightening out the collar. "I wanted to tell you that you'll be staying in tonight."

"What?" Allison gaped at him while Lydia frowned in disappointment. "I'm going out with my friends tonight."

"Not when some animal is out there attacking people."

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek and looked down at the floor, hoping that Mr. Argent wasn't looking at her when he spoke about the animal attacking people. Luckily, when she looked up, he was still staring at Allison.

Allison frowned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Dad, Dad," she attempted to protest. "I'm—"

"It's out of my hands," Mr. Argent interrupted her with a calm smile. "There's a curfew. No one's allowed out past nine-thirty. Hey, no more arguing."

As Mr. Argent left the room, Allison sighed heavily.

"Someone's daddy's little girl," Olivia commented as Allison seemed to agree to her father's command. She expected more of a rebelliousness out of Allison, to be honest.

"Sometimes," Allison said heavily, glancing at her closed door. "but not tonight."

Allison grabbed a purple beanie from her desk and settled it over her curls before walking over to her window. Olivia and Lydia watched, shocked, as she climbed onto the roof and did a front flip off of it, landing safely on the ground.

"What the hell?" Lydia breathed, looking at Allison with wide eyes.

Allison grinned up at them. "Eight years gymnastics. Are you coming?"

Olivia and Lydia exchanged a look before Olivia called, "We'll take the stairs."

-

Fifteen minutes later, after Lydia dropped her off on the way to the bowling alley, Olivia wandered through the long-term care unit at Beacon Hills Memorial. She approached the front desk and smiled at the receptionist, waiting for her to get off the phone.

It had been almost two weeks since Olivia last visited her father, which was longer than she liked to go without seeing him. She usually visited every Wednesday or so, but with all of this Scott-being-a-werewolf business, she hadn't had the time.

Peter Hale had been in the long-term care unit at the hospital for almost six years now, having been transferred there half a year after the fire that killed her mother. He had severe burns covering most of his body—including half of his face—and had been in a coma-like state. He couldn't talk or move or even take care of himself.

As much as it hurt to see her dad like that, Olivia wanted him to know she was there for him.

The receptionist—Sheila—finally hung up the phone and smiled at her. "Olivia, it's been a while, hon."

All the workers in the long-term unit knew who Olivia was after weekly visits for five years. They were all pretty nice, except for Jennifer, her father's nurse.

"Yeah, uh, I've been busy," Olivia gave her a weak smile. "I'm getting used to my new classes."

"Of course," Sheila smiled indulgently and handed Olivia a visitor's sign-in sheet. "Well, you can go on in. Your dad just had dinner."

Olivia signed the sheet. "Thanks, Sheila."

"No problem, hon."

Olivia gave her another sweet smile and left the desk, heading to her father's room just down the hall. She knocked gently as she walked into the room, seeing her dad sitting in his wheelchair in front of the blank television.

"Hey, Dad," she greeted him softly, walking around his chair to take a seat in front of him.

Jennifer, no matter how bitchy she was, made sure that Olivia knew it was important for Peter to be able to see who was talking to him. Even if he didn't understand.

"Sorry I haven't been to visit you," Olivia apologized, looking into his blank eyes. "School started up again and I've been busy with that. I'm taking Advanced Spanish this semester. Lydia isn't too happy that I keep spending time on it, but Derek and Laura said that the Hales could speak the language fluently."

Peter blinked but he didn't respond. Not that Oliva expected him to.

"Mr. Harris says I'm doing really well in Chemistry," she continued. "He's been giving me extra work. He claims it'll bring me to my full potential but I don't need extra worksheets to tell me I'm good at science."

Olivia went on, telling her father about superficial things that were happening in her life. When it came to the heavy stuff, she hesitated, eyes starting to water.

"Dad," she paused, her voice thick as she wiped her eyes before tears could form. "Dad, Laura's dead. Derek found her cut in half. Someone killed her but we don't think it was the Argents because then Derek would be the alpha and he's not."

She took a deep shuddering breath. "The alpha is still around, though. He attacked a bus driver at my school...he bit one of the kids in my class. His name's Scott. Derek and I are trying to help him adjust, but he's being a little stubborn."

"And he's got this friend," Olivia shook her head and chuckled once. "He's so annoying, he thinks he knows everything. But he's actually pretty smart," she admitted, thinking of Stiles' intellect. "Almost as smart as me."

Olivia's eye caught sight of the analog clock on the wall, seeing that visiting hours were almost over.

"I've got to go, Dad," she sighed, standing up. She leaned over and kissed the top of Peter's head. "I'll come back next week, on schedule. Love you."

Olivia gave him one last smile before leaving the room, missing the way Peter's eyes followed after her.

After signing out on the sheet up at the desk with Sheila, Olivia made her way back to the main part of the hospital. She had gotten a text message from Derek, telling her that he was there talking to the injured bus driver and that he'd take her home when he was finished.

She was planning on waiting around until his visit was done. However, she wasn't planning on running into Stiles Stilinski in the hallway by a vending machine.

"Olivia," Stiles looked at her in surprise, turning away from the machine with a candy-bar in one hand and a paper bag in the other. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was, uh, visiting my dad," Olivia gestured behind her awkwardly. "What about you?"

"Picking up medicine," Stiles held up the paper bag that had the logo of the hospital pharmacy printed on it.

Olivia nodded.

"Did you, uh, did you get the homework from Thomas?" Stiles already knew what their English homework was, but he wanted an excuse to keep talking to her. "I wasn't really paying attention."

"Yeah," Olivia nodded, remembering the assignment easily. "I can message you it, if you want."

"Oh, sure," Stiles grinned. "Um, do you have my number?"

"Yeah, you called me before," she reminded him before pausing. "Yeah, how'd you get my number?"

Stiles smiled sheepishly and rubbed his hand over his short hair. "I looked up your information in the system."

"That's illegal."

"Yeah..."

Olivia snorted, she couldn't help it. Sometimes Stiles could be a little funny when he wasn't annoying the shit out of her. Even though she should have been weirded out that he got her cellphone number from the system at his dad's work, she found it kind of funny that he went to such lengths just to find out what had happened with Jackson.

Suddenly, before Olivia could reply or Stiles could bask in the fact that he made her laugh, Derek came walking down the hallway. Olivia could see the slight confusion and panic in his eyes and she didn't like it one bit.

"Let's go," he said briskly, grabbing her arm.

Olivia looked back at Stiles, seeing his narrowed eyes, and let Derek pull her away.

"What's wrong?" she asked her cousin as they walked out of the hospital.

"The bus driver knew who I was," Derek answered tensely.

Olivia stopped breathing, shocked. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Derek opened the driver door of his Camaro and slid into his seat. "But I'm gonna find out."

-

-

Stiles walked gingerly across the roof next to Scott's bedroom window, trying not to let his full weight settle on the creaking material. He sneakily opened up the window that Scott never locked—which was kind of dangerous on his best friend's part—and tried to crawl onto the bed placed right beneath it.

He cursed under his breath as his foot caught on the window sill.

Stiles freed himself and rolled onto the bed, screaming in fright when he came face-to-face with Scott's mom, Melissa.

Melissa, who was holding up a bat, about to swing at him.

Melissa shouted, shocked, and put down the bat. "Stiles, what the hell are you doing here?"

"What am I doing?" Stiles exclaimed in shock, gesturing wildly to the baseball bat in her hand. "God, do either of you even play baseball?"

Melissa scoffed, still breathing heavily from the shock of seeing Stiles.

The light turned on as Scott shuffled into the room, giving his mom and best friend questioning looks.

"Can you please tell your friend to use the front door?" Melissa asked Scott, waving her hand at Stiles.

"But we lock the front door," Scott said, shrugging. "he wouldn't be able to get in."

"Yeah, exactly."

Stiles gave Melissa an offended look.

"And, by the way," Melissa continued, looking between the boys. "do either of you care that there's a police-enforced curfew?"

"Not really."

"No."

Stiles and Scott grinned at each other when they spoke at the same time.

Melissa sighed. "No? All right, then," she threw the bat onto Scott's bed behind Stiles. "that's enough parenting for me in one night. Good night."

As Melissa walked out of Scott's room, Stiles sighed heavily, remembering why he came here.

After he saw Derek practically drag Olivia out of the hospital, nurses started to rush by him, a code being called. The bus driver was coding and the nurses tried to revive him, but he ended up dying.

It was very suspicious to Stiles that Derek just happened to be at the hospital just as the bus driver started to flat line.

Scott noticed the sad look Stiles gave him. As he pulled his desk chair over to the bed, he asked him, "What?"

"I left the hospital twenty minutes ago," Stiles started solemnly. "It's the bus driver. He succumbed to his wounds."

"Succumbed?" Scott gave him a confused look.

"Scott," Stiles sighed sadly. "he's dead."