{2.5}

" Good Ol' Miguel "

***

Ollie was having a very weird day. So finding Derek Hale in Stiles's bedroom was really not helping his headache. 

"I'm taking Lydia Martin to the dance! Which is fine and all, because I like Lydia, but I also feel like Katrin is actually going to murder-" his rant was cut off by a surprised yell when he saw Derek standing in the corner of Stiles's room, as shirtless and brooding as ever.

 Ollie blanched, his stitches seeming to sting, although it was probably from the chlorine more than anything. "What the fuck are you doing here?" 

 "Hey Ollie!" 

 The boy's head whipped to the side as Stiles jumped to his feet, a very confused looking Danny sitting behind him. Ollie grew more confused by the second, his head whipping between Danny and Derek, both of whom looked like they would rather be anywhere else. 

 He sighed. "Okay, I've had a really bad day, so if someone doesn't explain what's going on in three seconds, someonne is going to get punched-" he pointed to Stiles. "And it will probably be you." 

 In response, Stiles scrambled over, grabbing Ollie so that they could face the opposite direction. "You know how Allison and Katrin got those mysterious text's the night at the school?" 

 Ollie nodded, annoyed at the fact that Stiles's over-excitement when it comes things like this, something that he would have previously found annoying, was now just overwhelmingly endearing. "Yeah, what about it?" 

 "I'm trying to get Danny to track them." Stiles smiled, "I'm actually really glad you're here-" his voice trailed off slightly. "Why is your shirt wet?" 

 Ollie responded by grabbing a fistful of the fabric, pulling it away from his skin with a loud sucking sound. "I went swimming earlier." 

 "Do you want to... borrow a shirt?" 

 Oliver's eyes narrowed at Stiles. "Why do I feel like you have some sort of ulterior motive?" 

 "You know me so well." 

 "Jokes on you. I can hang out in my uncomfortably wet shirt." 

 "That actually works too-" Stiles's voice was cut off when Ollie shoved him, "why the hell is Der-" 

 "Miguel!" Stiles cut him off, gesturing to Derek, who was currently wearing one of Stiles's brightly colored shirts... that was about a million sizes too small for him. Ollie wanted to laugh at the scene, but didn't know if it would be appropriate. Stiles gestured to Ollie. "You remember my friend Ollie, right? You guys previously bonded over your shared love for the Spanish language." 

 Ollie pulled a face. He obviously missed out on a lot. "What?" 

 Stiles shot him a warning look. "It's my cousin Miguel... from Mehico."

 "Mexico." He corrected, before turning to Derek with a raised eyebrow. "Hola, Miguel." 

 "Hi, Oscar." 

 "I swear to God you little-" 

"Don't bully Miguel!" Stiles gently slapped Ollie's chest, earning an odd look from Danny. 

 "You know-" the goalie gestured vaguely in the direction of Derek, looking like he was focusing his entire willpower on not blushing. "Um, Miguel?" 

 "What? Oh yeah-" Ollie shrugged. "We met last year. He calls me Oscar-" his smile tightened. "Good ol' Miguel." 

 "Yes, Miguel is awesome, so-" Stiles slid back into his seat next to Danny, grinning. "What do you say?"

 Danny sighed deeply. "You're a horrible person." 

 "I know, it keeps me awake at night so... about that text-" 

 "Stiles!" Derek huffed in annoyance, wearing one of Stiles's brightly colored (and tiny ) T-shirts. Ollie couldn't help but snicker at the look on the man's face, sitting down on his friend's bed and responding to Derek's death glare with a sheepish grin. "I think you look great, Miguel." 

 Derek mouthed a "I'm going to kill you," tugging the shirt back over his head.  

 Danny cleared his throat, averting his gaze. "I'm going to need the ISP, the phone number, and the exact time of text." 

 Ollie leaned his head back on Stiles's bed and sighing deeply. He has already had a super weird day, and he was exhausted. Unfortunately, the only sleep he gets is when he looses so much blood that he passes out. 

 "Hey-" Stiles sat down next to Ollie, making the boy raise his head. His hair was a mess of curls, and he was pretty sure that his hair doubled in size from getting wet. Stiles shot him a look. "Are you really taking Lydia to prom?" 

 "Yeah. Jackson broke up with her." Ollie paused, sitting up when he was struck by a sudden realization. He turned to Stiles. "We're going as friends. Don't think that this is me like, trying to steal the love of your life or whatever." 

 "What?" Stiles scoffed, although even Ollie could tell that it was forced. "What? I'm not jealous-"

"-The word jealous never came up in this conversation." 

 Stiles ignored him. "-Because I'm cool." He gestured between the two, "We're friends! I'm cool-" 

 "You already said that." 

 "Because it's true!" 

 "Here!" Danny announced, saving Ollie from a lot of embarrassment. He shot Stiles a look, scowling as soon as he wasn't look. Stupid idiot, he is totally jealous that he is taking Lydia to the dance. Under different circumstances, Ollie would have smacked him. 

 "What? That can't be right-" 

 Ollie decided to get his revenge by subtly shoulder-checking Stiles as he leaned down to read the computer screen. His eyebrows immediately furrowed together in confusion. His first instinct was that something was wrong with the computer, the second was that he really wished he had never been born. 

Because under the account name for when the text's where sent, in big bold letters, was the name Melissa McCall.

 ***

"I'm pretty sure my best friend is mad at me." 

 "I'm pretty sure your cousin is mad at you too you stupid bitch."

 Ollie's head shot up from it's place resting on his hands, shooting Katrin a puzzled look. The two were sitting on the bleachers, waiting for the lacrosse game to start. The rest of the team was already warming up, but Stiles was no where to be seen. 

 Katrin sighed at the expression on his face. "Dear God you look like a kicked puppy. Why do you think that Stiles is mad at you?" 

 "Because, after he found out that the text's were sent from the hospital, he practically threw Danny out of his house in his Adderall-induced freak out, and then when I tried to ask him how I could help, he told me that I should-" he made his voice a pitch higher, "go hang out with Lydia or something, and then slammed the door in my face." 

 Katrin sighed deeply. "In hindsight, he was in love with her for a while there." 

 Oliver decided to completely ignore the recurring usage of 'was', and groan, running a hand through his hair. "Am I a bad friend?" 

 "Yes." 

 Oliver shot Katrin a death glare, making the girl scoff and raise her hands in the air. "I'm kidding! You're not a bad person, Ols, it's not like you actually like Lydia." 

 "I like her as a friend and person." 

 "That makes one of us." 

 "She's not that bad, Kat." Ollie sighed deeply. "She's nice, and smart, and funny... she actually kind of reminds me of you." He paused, "well, minus the nice part."

 "Oh ha, ha, you should quit baseball and go into a career in comedy." The redhead spat, gesturing vaguely to the baseball bat laying at Ollie's feet. "Why do you even have that with you?" 

 "Because I couldn't leave it in my locker over the weekend!" 

 Katrin glanced down at her watch. "Where is your better half anyway? The game starts in ten minutes." She mumbled something under her breath, un-crossing her legs so she could rummage around in her purse. She withdrew her phone. "I'm calling him." 

 "Tell him that I say fuck you." 

 Katrin nodded, bringing the phone to her ear. She waited a moment, before speaking. "Hey, bitch, it's me-" 

 She paused, presumably to listen to whatever Stiles was saying. She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he's here having a mental breakdown. Whatever your couples quarrel is about-" 

 A long pause. "By the way, you're going to the formal with me."

 Pause. "Is Derek with you? Tell him that I say hi!"

 Ollie rolled his eyes rather aggressively as Katrin asked Stiles where he was, before huffing and hanging up the phone. The curly haired boy side-eyed her. "Well? Where are they?" 

 "He told me they were at the hospital-" 

 "What?" Ollie's head whipped up, his eyes widening. "The hospital?" 

 Katrin cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah, you know the place where people go to- where are you going?" 

 Ollie jumped to his feet, grabbing his bat and turning to lean closer to Katrin, lowering his voice. "The texts were sent from the hospital, right? So what if whoever sent them is still there?" 

 The girls eyes widened. "You mean the Alpha?" 

 "No, I mean the anesthesiologist," he rolled his eyes, "yes! Obviously the Alpha!" He turned and began to walk down the bleachers, Katrin followed, her heels making an obnoxoiously loud banging sound against the hollow metal. He turned to glance at her as soon as they were out of earshot from the large lacrosse crowd. Seriously, why did so many people come to watch a game of freaking lacrosse? "You don't have to come, you know that right?"  

In response, Katrin scoffed, reaching into her purse and pulling out her small crossbow. "If you think I'm not gonna help then you can shove one of my small arrows up your ass." 

 "Okay then... just-" he sighed. "Make sure that thing is ready to fire." 

 ***

 "Okay, maybe you should just stay in the car." 

 "What?" Katrin's tone was angry as she slammed her fist against the dashboard of Oliver's (or, Oliver's mother's) car. "Sanchez! You told me that I could come!" 

 "Yeah, but Stiles's jeep is empty and the hospital looks really dark and creepy which is kind of suspcious considering the fact that it is a freaking hospital!" He hurried to unbuckle his seatbelt, grabbing his bat as if it would provide good protection against a bloodthirsty werewolf. He turned to look at Katrin, who looked like she was seriously considering shooting him with her mini-crossbow. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry." 

 "Sanchez, I bought a crossbow from an old market, I'm not afraid of a fuckin' werewolf." 

 "Which is exactly why you're staying in the car." Ollie opened his door, the cold air making the hair on his arms stand up, even under his hoodie. He flashed Katrin an apologetic look, hearing her mumble a complex array of curse words under her breath before he shut the door. 

 This wing of the hospital was eerily vacant. That was painfully obvious to Ollie has he meticulously creeped through the halls, every single nerve in his body on edge. He felt like every single breath he was taking would glow like a beacon, lighting up and exploding into the sky, just telling the Alpha where his next meal was. 

 He swallowed deeply, glad that he didn't let Katrin come in. 

 The low voices floating through the air make his stomach churn. The metallic scent of blood swallowed his senses, and he winced. Who was bleeding? 

 The voices got louder, so he pinned his back against the wall, glancing around the corner. He immediately wished that he had Katrin's crossbow so he could shoot himself with it. There was a man standing in between Stiles and Derek. Ollie couldn't really pick out any discernible features, except for dark hair, but he was about ninety-nine percent sure that nothing good would come out of this interaction. 

 Derek raised his head just high enough to catch Ollie's eye. The older man's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open slightly. Ollie rose his eyebrows, holding out his bat and thinking about what he could possibly do next. 

 "Is that the Alpha?" He mouthed to Derek, the man thankfully facing away from him at that moment. The man looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown as he furiously mouthed "yes! what the hell are you doing?" 

 In response, Ollie rolled his shoulders and chucked his bat right at the man's head. 

 It hit it's mark with a dull clanging sound and a surprised grunt. Oliver heard Derek groan and Stiles curse in surprise. The man's head jerked toward him, and Ollie involuntarily yelled out in surprise. 

 Half of his face looked quite normal, handsome even, but the other half seemed... burned. The skin was white and paper thin, stretching over his veins like plastic wrap, earning an odd, stringy impression to be etched onto the skin. Ollie swallowed deeply, wishing that he didn't throw away his only form of defense. 

 "That was for my face, asshole." 

 The man smiled, an action that greatly pissed Oliver off. "Oliver Sanchez. It's nice to see you again." 

 Ollie didn't know what to say. "Fuck you." 

 The Alpha didn't make any move to approach Ollie. He just bent over and picked up his bat, tossing it back to the boy, who caught it in his hand, scowling. Nobody said anything for a second, Ollie glaring at the Alpha, feeling his feet sunconsciously shuffle forward. He thought that if he could touch him, he might see something - anything - that could help them. The Alpha Dude Whose Name Oliver Still Doesn't Know seemed to take note of his, his eyebrows furrowing together. 

 Stiles's voice was so quiet Ollie could barely hear him. "What are you doing?" 

 "I need to see-" 

 The last word seemed to trigger something in the man, as his back straightened slightly, and he took a step back. Something flashed in his eyes that made Oliver furrow his eyebrows. "The Seer-"

 "I prefer the term insomniac." He tightened his grip on his bat, "what's it to you?" 

 In response, the Alpha took a step closer to him, his nails growing into claws as a growl ripped from his throat. Ollie's eyes widened, but before anyone could even react, there was a sound like a spring being released, and the man cursed in pain, a small arrow embedded in his shoulder. 

 Katrin stepped up beside her cousin, holding her stupid little crossbow out in front of her like it was a normal thing to carry in your purse. She had the nerve to smirk, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Yippie ki-yay, motherfucker." 

 "Katrin!" Ollie snapped, but before he could even begin to yell something, there was a loud growl, and then Derek tackled the Alpha. 

 And then all hell broke loose. 

A/N:

I FUCKING HATE THIS CHAPTER OH MY GOD WHY AM I SO CRINGY????? AND THE TENSION BETWEEN OLLIE AND STILES SOMEONE SLAP THEM I'M BEGGING YOU-

That's it... that's the entire authors note.