chapter six
take the pain away

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A STORM was brewing. Odessa could practically feel it coming from inside the cramped school bus. Even with her pleading and begging, the Stone was practically dragged to the bus. Being a part of the cross-country team means coming to meets—no matter how much you didn't want to go. That was Odessa's situation.

It had been almost a week since Isaac moved in. When the boy first knocked on Scott's door, Odessa instantly offered her room for him, seeing as there was only one guest room and Odessa was already occupying it. Of course, Isaac declined, opting for the couch, but he didn't mind. For the blonde, it was a lot to live with one boy, let alone two. But seeing as the three were never really home to do anything more than sleep or occasionally study, it wasn't so bad.

The morning of the meet, Odessa could feel that something was off. As soon as she woke up, she could smell blood. She also noticed Scott's slow movements. The blonde knew that scolding him wouldn't do anything—and he was already in enough pain. Odessa didn't know what happened last night, but she knew it was bad. It was when she watched the McCall's eyes flutter, along with his pale complexion, did she decide to do something.

"Yo, Scotty," Stiles snapped his fingers to grasp his best friend's attention, "hey, yo, Scotty? Still with me?"

Scott blinked, "yeah, sorry," he spoke, avoiding a certain burning gaze from the blonde in front of him, "uh, what's the word?"

"Anachronism."

"Something that exhausts out of its normal time."

Odessa watched the two go back and forth with a sigh. She had a plan brewing in her head—she just needed to assure herself that it would work.

"Nice. Okay, next word—incongruous."

"Um, can you use it in a sentence?"

"Yes. Yes, I can," the Stilinski answered, "it's completely incongruous that we're sitting on a bus right now, on our way to some stupid cross-country meet after what just happened—incongruous."

Scott nodded in understanding, "out of place, ridiculous, absurd."

"Perfect. Okay, next word. Um, Darach. Darach, it's a noun," Stiles met his best friend's unimpressed stare, "we have to talk about it sometime, okay? And we're gonna be stuck in this thing for, like, five hours, so why not," he didn't get a reply, only receiving a tired expression. Stiles cleared his throat, "next word—intransigent."

"Stubborn, obstinate."

Just as Scott answered, the bus hit a bump in the road, causing the bus to rattle. It also caused the McCall to groan in pain.

Having enough, Odessa jumped to face the two boys from the seat in front of them, eyeing them dangerously, "can I give some examples?"

"G-Go right ahead, Odie."

The girl disregarded Stiles' taken aback expression, her gaze on leaving the boy she thought of as her brother, "it is incongruous that the intransigent boy in front of me won't let me help him when I'm perfectly capable of doing so."

"Odessa, we haven't worked on taking pain yet," the McCall weakly defended, "you could hurt yourself—"

"I don't care, Scott! It's bad enough you won't even tell me what happened. The least I can do is take some pain away."

"I said no, Odie."

Stiles eyed his best friend, who seemed to be getting worse and worse, "we shouldn't have come. I knew it. We shouldn't have come."

"We had to," Scott rasped, "there's safety in numbers."

"Yeah, well, there's also death in numbers, okay? It's called a massacre," the Stilinski scrolled through his vocabulary app, "or bloodbath, carnage, slaughter, butchery, wow, that's," his best friend lets out another groan, "all right, Scott, I'm telling Coach that—"

"No. No, no, no. I'm all right."

"Well, you don't look all right," Stiles scoffed, glancing toward the blonde, who was watching the pair with pursed lips, "maybe you should let Odie take some pain."

"No—"

"That's it," Odessa leaned forward in her seat, "let me see it," she tried to lift Scott's shirt but was pushed away. She rolled her eyes, "would you just let me see it, at least?"

"I'm okay."

"Scott," the boy looked up to meet Odessa's brown eyes. They were more gentle, her features had softened slightly, "let me see it."

After a moment, the McCall nodded and lifted his shirt, revealing three deep gashes on his right side. They were bloody and didn't seem to be healing at all. Odessa and Stiles met each other's shocked gazes.

"I know it's bad," Scott grimaced once he saw their expressions, "but it's because they're from an Alpha. It'll take longer to heal."

Stiles moved his gaze to the front of the bus, "how come Boyd and Isaac are fine then?"

Odessa watched on as Scott didn't give an answer. She bit her lip anxiously. The girl couldn't believe she was just sitting there, not helping her friend.

"I can't believe he's dead. I can't believe Derek's dead."

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"Two of you, back in your seats!"

Listening to Coach yell at her fellow teammates every five minutes wasn't helping Odessa's mood. She had been distracting herself, or trying to, from Scott's occasional groans or heavy breathing as she could tell his pain was getting worse. The blonde was kicking herself. She knew she needed to do something and she had to do it fast—with or without Scott's permission.

"McCall," Coach called from the front, "not you too."

Scott lifted his head from the window, clearing his throat, "no, Coach, I'm good."

"Hey, Scott," Stiles spoke after hearing his best friend groan again, "you're bleeding again," the boy glanced at the blonde who was flexing her hand, almost as if she was trying to control the urge to grab Scott's hand and take his pain, "don't tell me that it's just taking longer to heal, okay? Because I'm pretty sure that still bleeding means not healing, like, at all."

The McCall nudged his head forward toward Ethan's seat, who was sitting next to Danny, "he's listening."

"Is he gonna do something?"

"Not in front of this many people."

"Well, what about them," Odessa contributed, eyes set on Isaac and Boyd, who looked like they were ready to attack at any moment.

"No, they won't," Scott denied, "not here."

The Stilinski blinked, "okay, well, what if they do? Are you gonna stop 'em?"

"If I have to."

Odessa scoffed, not fazed by the strong look in Scott's eyes, "not in this much pain you're not," she resumed her position on her knees to face the two boys, "give me your hand, Scott."

"Odie—"

"Now," with the firmness in her voice, the McCall knew she wasn't going to back down anytime soon, and gave in, giving her his hand. The blonde placed the boy's hand in both of hers, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath before concentrating on taking the pain away. She could feel Scott's body become less tense and decided to focus on that and not the burning sensation her own body was facing. After a couple seconds, the two parted, Scott looking more relaxed and in less pain, and Odessa looking paler than before. She didn't want to look at the boys' faces, as she knew they were looking weary with her complexion. The Stone inhaled sharply, "I'll do it again in five minutes. Just try to keep breathing."

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The bus wasn't moving. After a good few minutes of steady driving along the freeway, the bus soon stopped and the sound of honks began to fill the air. Odessa, along with some of her classmates, were antsy to get off this bus or miss the meet entirely. Even from the back of the bus, Odessa could practically feel the rapid heartbeats from Boyd and Isaac in front of them—more so the former. And she wasn't the only one who noticed.

"What—what—Scott," Stiles stuttered, watching his best friend get up from his seat, "where are you going?"

"Boyd," he rasped, "he's gonna do something."

"Okay, what? How do you know?"

"Look at his hands."

Odessa's eyes widened at the sight of Boyd's claw clad hands gripping the seat. Before she or Stiles could protest, the McCall rose from his seat and stumbled to the front of the bus. The blonde could tell he was struggling and already made up her mind to take more pain when he came back. The two in the back watched with bated breaths as the three werewolves went back and forth. It wasn't until they watched Scott get back to his seat did the girl unclench her jaw.

"Crisis averted?"

"Mm-hmm."

Odessa turned in her seat once again, "hand," she simply instructed.

With a sigh, Scott let her take his hand and take his pain. The two boys watched as black veins appeared from Scott's arm to Odessa's, her eyebrows scrunching at the sensation. After a couple moments, the two parted. The Stone blinked excessively from a wave of dizziness that washed over her, trying her hardest to hide it.

"Guys," Stiles called, looking toward Ethan and Danny again, "we got another problem. Ethan keeps checking his phone, like, every five minutes. It's like he's waiting for something, you know, like, a message or a signal of some kind. I don't know, something evil though, I can tell. I have a very perceptive eye for evil, but you know that."

While Odessa only raised her brows at the boys' rant, Scott narrowed his eyes at the boys, "I don't like him sitting with Danny."

"Yeah, neither do I," the Stilinski reached into his jeans pocket and took out his phone, "I'm gonna see what he's waiting for."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna ask."

After a few seconds, the three watched as Danny glanced at his phone and then back at Stiles, the boy smiling and pointing at him. The smile fell as Danny shook his head. Odessa watched in amusement as Stiles texted Danny again, not taking no for an answer. As the texts turned more aggressive and constant from Stiles' side, the boy next to the Alpha seemed to give in. As Danny started his task, Ethan whipped his head back at the three friends, who ducked between their seats. A couple moments later, Stiles read the text that came from Danny.

Someone close to him is sick.
Might not make it through the night.

"Ennis," Scott questioned, not protesting when the blonde in front of him grabbed his hand.

Stiles spoke with furrowed brows, "okay, so does that mean, uh—"

"He's not dead."

"Not yet."

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Even though Odessa had a soft spot for Coach, his constant yelling was slowly driving her crazy. The traffic still hadn't let up and the bus had yet to move for what seemed like an hour—maybe two.

"Jared, I'm warning you," Coach berated the poor boy who sat in the very front of the bus, "I'm an empathetic vomiter. You throw up, I'm gonna throw up right back on you. And it will be profoundly disgusting."

"Please don't talk about throwing up," Jared trembled, "it's not good."

"I might throw up on you just to make a point, Jared," the man deadpanned before turning to the rest of the team, "now the rest of you, don't think we're gonna miss this meet because of a slight traffic jam, a minor tornado warning, Jared. We're gonna make this thing. Nothing is gonna stop us! Stilinski, put your hand down."

"You know, there's, like, a food exit about a half a mile up. I don't know if we stop and then maybe—"

"We're not gonna stop."

"Okay, but if we stop—"

"Stilinski," tweet, "shut it! Seriously! It's a little bus! Stop asking me questions!"

"I hate him," Stiles stated simply as Odessa was trying to control her laughter. However, seeing the state of her other friend, who looked sleepier than before, got her to sober up quickly. As Stiles spoke again, she grabbed Scott's hand in an attempt to take more pain, "did you call Deaton?"

Scott sighed, regaining a little energy, "I keep getting his voicemail."

Stiles paused for a moment, watching Odessa release Scott's hand to take deep breaths. At the sight of her trembling hands, he dug for his phone once more, "that's it. I'm calling Lydia and Allison."

"How are they gonna help," the Stone furrowed her brow, "they're back in Beacon Hills."

"They're not. They've been following us for hours," the boy muttered, "pathetic."

Soon, Odessa used her hearing to listen to both sides of the conversation.

"Hey, Stiles," Lydia greeted, her tone higher than usual, "yeah, we're just about to walk into a movie, uh, you know, the popcorn and—"

"I know you guys are right behind us. Put me on speaker."

"Okay."

The Stone reached for Scott's hand again, seeing his eyes flutter tiredly as Stiles started, "okay, look, Scott's still hurt."

"What do you mean still," Allison's voice rang from the other line, "he's not healing?"

"No, he's not healing. I think he's actually getting worse. Odessa's been taking his pain—she's had to take it multiple times and he isn't getting any better. The blood's turning, like, a black color."

"W-What's wrong with him?"

Stiles scoffed at the strawberry blonde's question, "what's wrong with him? I don't—do I have a PhD in Lycanthropy? How am I supposed to know that?"

"We need to get him off the bus," Allison stressed.

"And take him where, a hospital?"

"If he's dying, yeah," the Argent looked at the road sign in front of her, "Stiles, there's a rest area about a mile up. Tell the Coach to pull over."

"Yeah, I've been trying."

"Well, reason with him."

"Reason? Have you met this guy?"

"He'll do it," Odessa firmly stated, a layer of sweat lined across her forehead, "we'll see you guys soon," as the phone call ended, the girl wasn't fazed by Stiles' glare, "I don't know how much longer taking his pain will keep him awake. Do it now."

With a heavy sigh, the Stilinski got up from his seat and made his way to Coach, "Coach, it's five minutes for a bathroom break, okay? We've been on this thing for, like, three hours—"

Tweet!

"It's 60 miles to the next rest stop—"

Tweet!

"Being cooped up for hours is not good—"

Tweet!

"You know, our bladders aren't exactly—"

Tweet!

"Coach, this is—"

Tweet!

"Can you—"

Tweet!

"Please—"

Tweet!

"Let me talk! I'm—"

Tweet!

"Every time—"

Tweeeeeeeet, "get back to your seat, Stilinski!"

"Okay!"

"Jared, keep your eyes on the horizon."

Stiles paused in his tracks, seemingly getting an idea. The boy made eye contact with Odessa, who slowly nodded her head. Let's just say, Jared in fact didn't keep his eyes on the horizon.

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Odessa and the rest of the students couldn't get off the bus fast enough. By now, her face had completely lost color and her movements grew more sluggish by the minute. She never knew taking pain would give herself a rough time, but seeing as she's been taking it more and more often without many breaks, she's slowly starting to understand why taking pain is something that more experienced werewolves do. Even without her experience, she doesn't regret it.

The blonde struggled to keep up with Stiles' fast pace from the other side of Scott, who had both his arms around her and Stiles' shoulders to keep him up right and walking. Without catching anyone's attention, the three, Lydia and Allison made their way to the rest stop bathroom.

The McCall groaned in pain as he was sat down on the ground against the wall of the bathroom by his friends. Odessa bit her lip nervously before taking some more pain—seeing the black blood increasing the stain that was showing on his shirt. She let go of his hand shakily to let Allison take a closer look. By now, the wound had grown, with veins around the deep jagged scratches.

"Oh, my God," Allison whispered, shocked at the sigh of his wound, "why didn't you tell us?"

Scott smiled tiredly, "sorry."

"This shouldn't be happening," the Argent spoke to the three behind her, who were also shocked at the severity of his injury, "I've seen him heal from worse than this."

"Okay, what do we do then," Stiles questioned nervously, "do we call an ambulance?"

"What if it's too late? What if they can't help?"

"We gotta do something," the boy stressed before turning to the blonde next to him, "Odie, could you take more pain?"

"I don't know..."

"W-What do you mean 'you don't know'?"

"Stiles, I don't know what'll happen if I take more than I already am," the Stone exclaimed, "plus no matter how much I take—for some reason it isn't helping."

Stiles scoffed, before mumbling under his breath, "or maybe you just don't know what'll happen to you."

The bathroom was moved into silence. Even though Stiles' comment was quiet, it was heard loud and clear. Odessa didn't rebuttal, however, because no matter how hurt she was by his words, it wasn't about her right now, it was about Scott.

"You know, it could be physiological," Lydia spoke after the moment of silence, "maybe somatoform. A physical illness from a psychogenic cause. It's all in his head."

Odessa furrowed her brows in thought, before her eyes lit up in understanding, "he kept repeating how Derek was dead. He's not letting himself heal 'cause Derek died."

"So what do we do?"

At Allison's question, the Martin reached into her purse to grab a needle and thread and shrugged, "stitch him up," seeing the wary features around her, she stressed, "I'm serious. Maybe all he needs to do is just believe it's healing."

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The group split up after coming with a plan to help Scott. While Allison was still in the bathroom stitching the boys' wound, Odessa, Stiles and Lydia were outside with the rest of the team to make sure the bus didn't leave.

Only a couple minutes of being outside, Odessa heard a pounding heartbeat coming from Isaac and didn't have time to stop him from beating Ethan against a tree. What the blonde didn't know until later was the reason why Isaac went after the Alpha was Stiles telling him what happened with Scott. It wasn't until Scott yelled Isaac's name did the boy let up and calm. Odessa still didn't know how Scott had such a powerful influence on Isaac as a Beta.

The team had managed to get the bus completely clean and sanitary and before they knew it, they were piling onto the bus and on their way. The meet had already been missed because of the traffic and their pit stop so their destination? Odessa had no idea.

Instead of sitting by Scott and Stiles, who were now sitting with Allison and Lydia, the Stone opted to sit next to Isaac for a change. The four teens sat behind them watched Odessa sit beside the Lahey with raised brows. Everyone other than Scott knew why she was keeping her distance—they just didn't realize that Stiles' words cut deeper than she let on.

"You okay," Odessa asked the sandy haired boy after a few minutes.

Isaac nodded, his eyes looking out of the window, "yeah. Just hearing about what happened to Scott was the last straw for me."

The blonde pursed her lips in hesitation before speaking again, "I can help you calm down, if you want."

"How would you do that?"

"I'd just take your hand," Odessa placed her hand in his, the boys' eyes watching intently, "and picture my calm energy transfer into you..."

Ever since the day at the Clinic, Odessa had been experimenting on how deep her powers could take her. She thought about what she did when Isaac was under his trance and applied that when she was practicing. All she wanted was for Isaac to calm down at the Clinic, and that's what she got him to do. Now, she was applying the same thinking as she did before.

Within seconds, Isaac's body relaxed, his shoulders dropping its tension. As the two smiled softly at each other, a pair of light brown eyes followed their every move.

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y'all i promise this is a
stiles fic pls give it time
we're only on the fifth episode lol
don't be a silent reader!