Chapter 14: Help A Bro Out

Ethan's POV:

Whoever this man was, he was holding me tightly to his chest, and I could feel the thump of his heartbeat in my ear drums. He was holding me like I was his newly wedded bride. This stranger had a scent of pine wood, and earth, and moved with a rapid fluidity, his stride, a leaf in the breeze.

Before I knew it we were out the front door, and shuffling down a staircase. Whoever he was, he had a seemingly familiar scent, and more importantly, he was saving me.

I could feel the pressure in his chest as he tried to slow his own heart rate, he was a wolf. He was like me.

I tried to open my eyes, but he moved even quicker, my vision went from utter darkness, to an artistic blur.

The lights of my apartment building blared as we stepped through the foyer. I could hear cars whizzing by on the street, and his heartbeat became nothing but a low murmur.

This was peace. Or the closest thing I had ever known to it.

Maybe I had died and literally went to heaven.

I could hear the doors of a truck open, and my body was slid slowly into the backseat of a large vehicle. A thigh slid underneath my head, and fingers carded through my tangled hair.

I could hear two people. One, much more excited than the other

"UH… nope, Take that fucker back."

"Stiles don't be like that, he only punched you once."

"It doesn't matter how many fucking times he hit me, he's an asshole, and not to mention, the enemy."

"We can't just leave him to die!"

At that moment my eyes opened , and I looked my savior in the face.

"Scott, he's not worth it."

"Since when are we the judges? Why do we get to decide his fate?"

"Maybe because your dumb ass had an impromptu moment of chivalry, and picked up one- half of the WWE sized werewolf!"

"Yeah but…"

"Nobody told you to do that."

Scott's eyes filled with liquid, "Look at him! He's convulsing! Why would they do this to him?"

"Welp, animal cruelty is a shame…" *snickers*

"Stiles, what the fuck dude?"

"Sorry, just trying to make light of a dark situation."

"Is sarcasm your only defense mechanism?"

" Against werewolves? Yes."

Scott let out an exasperated huff, " Can't we just help a bro out ?

Stiles gave up and the engine roared to life.

The car ride was very quiet, the radio wasn't on, and all I could hear was the quick rotation of rubber tires on dry pavement.

Darkness pulled in my belly, filled my mouth, and broke free to the surface. Yet again I was on my back, like a fucking turtle.

Tears flowed as the burning flooded my body. The water in my eyes distorted my vision of Scott's face, and he twisted in a picasso-esque fashion.

His calloused hand came down, wiped the tears from my eyes, and cradled my face. Scott had a tenderness, one I've never seen, or even expected.

His eyes are slightly downcast, and he gave me a pained smile.

My insides, stopped writhing, and my werewolf vision started piecing itself together. His eyes were beautiful, dear God, he looked Like Danny.

Scott's face twisted in confusion, "What was that Ethan?"

I wasn't aware that I had said anything, but I was more than willing to repeat his name. I cleared my throat of black gunk, and groaned, "Danny."

A/N: After this chapter, I've developed a new respect for the term "Quickie" .

Much love- Author