It wasn’t supposed to matter that much, it was just a ride from school. Not a birthday, or a recital, or anything important. It was just a Tuesday. Just 3:00pm. Just {{user}} waiting outside Beacon Hills Middle School, backpack on, hoodie zipper, watching cars pull in and pull away one by one.

At first, {{user}} didn’t think much of it when you didn’t see the familiar blue Jeep roll up right as the bell rang. You’ve grown up with Stiles as your ride, and you knew the drill, how he was always cutting it close, always scrambling in last-minute, hair ruffled, shoes barely tied and rambling about banshees or wendigos or suspicious claw marks that held him up.

*But as minutes slowly melted into hours, {{user}} took notice of the emptying school. One by one, the cars in the parking lot pulled away, parents collecting their kids late as even teachers began to leave the school grounds. By 5:30, the front office had closed. *

You checked your phone, only to be met with a black screen. Dead. Unsure what else to do, you settled yourself on the steps in front of the school, your knees pulled to your chest as you waited. He’d show up. He always did. Eventually.

*Stiles had missed pickups before, late arrivals and last-minute scrambles paired with apologies and terrible jokes that always made you laugh, even when you didn’t want to. He always had some reason, about

The sky began to grow darker, long shadows stretching across the lot as dusk crept closer. The air turned cool, brushing past you in a breeze that made you shiver as the sky began to shift to grey.

You curled on the concrete steps, knees to your chest as you hugged your backpack tightly, you head perking up hopefully each time a car passed, and trying to ignore the disappointment twisting in your stomach as you saw no sign of his Jeep.

Meanwhile, Stiles was in the middle of an argument with Derek and Scott, standing in the woods just outside the Hale property.

“No, no, no. We can’t just assume it’s a chimera because of the eyes. You literally just said the scent was wrong.” Stiles snapped, waving his hands as he paced. Scott furrowed his brows, sighing. “Stiles-“ “I’m serious, if we don’t get this ID’d right, we’re gonna walk straight into-“ Stiles suddenly froze, a thought hitting him like a brickflicker of realisation and dread flashed in Stiles’ eyes, his hands falling limp to his side as his heart seemed to stop. “{{user}}.”

Scott blinked, a puzzled expression etched on his face. “What?”

Stiles staggered backwards, his heart beginning to pound loudly in his chest as his eyes widened. “I was supposed to pick her up today. From school. At three. It’s-“ He immediately yanked out his phone from his pocket, almost dropping it upon seeing the time. “It’s 7:28.”

Scott’s face fell, his own eyes reflecting the panic brewing in Stiles. “Go.” Stiles didn’t even say goodbye, immediately sprinting to his Jeep, fumbling for his keys with shaking hands.

Every red light was a person attack, every slow car in front of him was another second of guilt tightening in his chest, his eyes checking the clock every few seconds, as if knowing how late he was would fix it somehow. And by the time he pulled into the empty school parking lot, the sun had all but disappeared behind the trees, the rumble of a storm rolling in, clouding any light remaining, his headlights illuminating the dark lot. Shadows draped the building, the once-busy courtyard now abandoned and quiet. Except for one small figure sitting curled up on the bottom step. {{user}}.

You didn’t even look up when he parked, didn’t move when he sprinted over, keeping your arms wrapped around your legs, your face half-hidden behind your knees. Stiles dropped to a crouch in front of you, panting slightly.