DEAD MAN!
CHAPTER TWENTY.
i know what you are.

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ADRIAN NERVOUSLY PLAYED WITH HIS HANDS AS HE WALKED HIS WAY UP THE STILINSKI'S DRIVEWAY. After talking to his sister last night and staring at his ceiling for hours straight, the redhead finally made the bold decision.

He was going to tell Stiles how he felt.

In preparation, he had written a note which was currently tucked in the pocket of his jeans. In the note, was a letter of how he felt towards the hazel eyed boy. He had wrote it in case he was unable to tell the boy verbally . . . and it would help make an easy escape plan if it backfired.

"Hey, Stiles." Adrian recited the speech he had been saying to himself in the mirror all over, wanting it to be perfect. "Long time no see huh? . . . that sounded stupid." He mumbled.

"Um, listen, the reason I'm here . . . is because I haven't been completely honest with you and quite frankly- a complete jerk. The truth is . . . I like you. I have one hundred percent fallen for your honey hazel brown eyes and sarcastic asshole of a personality- I even like your stupid buzzcut I've made fun of so many times in the past!"

"Stiles Stilinski, you have made me feel things I never thought I'd feel with anyone. You made me feel like I was more than Lydia Martin's brother who's good at lacrosse. You made me feel . . . like me. No matter how many times I rehearsed this in my bedroom, nothing could truly explain my feelings about you; mainly because I'm still trying to figure them out myself. But I want to find out. I want to find out . . . with you; as my boyfriend."

When the redhead finished and stood at the front door, he took a deep breath. This is it. And with no regrets, he tapped on the door.

Stiles almost tripped over his own two feet opening the door, smiling widely when he saw the familiar Martin despite his initial shock. "Adrian! Hey! W-What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you, of course."

"I-I needed to talk to you." The hazel eyed boy was taken back by the sudden shyness emitting from him. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." Stiles allowed him access, leading him up into his room where he plopped back on his desk chair.

Adrian was just about to take a seat on the bed too, when a sudden a dark figure came into his view. The lacrosse player jumped, calming down when he realised it was just Derek Hale. Part of him hates how used he is to the older werewolf's presence now.

"Hey Stiles!" Mr Stilinski called from downstairs, making Adrian's body freeze up. He didn't even think about his dad being home. What if he heard his confession? What would he think?

Stiles turned round in his seat. "Yo, Da- Derek." The boy sputtered, eyes widened as he caught sight of the man suddenly there. Derek glared as he held a finger to his lips, making movements for the teen to get rid of his dad. "I, um . . ."

"The door." Adrian mouthed, pointing as he sat on the bed.

The Stilinski boy raced to the door, hanging out so that his father couldn't see anything inside his room. "What did you just say?" Adrian heard Noah ask.

His son scoffed. "What? I said 'Yo, Dad.'"

Noah didn't seem to question it, carrying on. "Listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but I'm gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game." He nodded.

"My first game. Gosh, great. Awesome. Uh, good." Adrian smiled at the interaction between the two, glad his dad could manage the time to watch Stiles play.

Noah smiled. "I'm very happy for you. And I'm really proud of you."

"Me too, I'm happy and proud of myself." Adrian couldn't help but snort at the boy's awkwardness, making his presence known.

"Adrian?" The Sheriff questioned from outside the room, going to peek round his son to see.

Adrian bolted to the door, almost running into Stiles as he halted; his body half in and out the room. "Hey, Sheriff. Fancy seeing you here."

"Well, I live here." The older man chuckled, Adrian giving one slightly back. Noah hesitates before asking the redhead, a lack of faith in his eyes. "So, Adrian, they're going to really let him play, right?"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm first line." Stiles answered, Adrian grinning beside him as he tried to hold his laughter. "You bet."

"I'm very proud." Noah smiled widely.

"Oh, me too." He paused, seeing his father go in for a hug. "Again, I'm . . . oh." The Stilinski's hugged tightly, the son awkwardly patting his father's back. "Huggie. Huggie, huggie."

When the two pulled away, Noah smiled at the second teen present. "Good luck to you too tonight, Adrian. I've heard a lot of good things about you in lacrosse."

"Oh really?" Adrian's eyebrows raised in amusement, side eyeing Stiles, who scratched his neck awkwardly. "Well, I'm happy to hear that."

"See you there." Noah told the two boys before his footsteps sounded down the hall.

"Take it easy." Stiles spoke as Adrian gave a small wave. As soon as the man was out of sight, the two boys let out a huge sigh and rested their heads against the door.

Stiles was first to enter, Adrian coming in just in time to see Derek grab the pale boy by his collar jacket and slam him against the wall. Adrian went to intercept, but a dangerous look from Derek told him that stepping in would make the situation for Stiles much worse.

"If you both say one word . . ." The man growled, looking between the two boys.

"What, you mean, like 'hey, dad, Derek Hale's in my room. Bring your gun'?" The young boy dared to sass back, Adrian's eyebrows raising in a surprised motion. "Yeah, that's right. If I'm harbouring your fugitive ass, it's my house, my rules, buddy." He slapped Derek's shoulder as he released him slowly.

When Stiles took a seat back onto his chair and Adrian back on the bed, Derek turned to glare at the two. "Scott didn't get the necklace?"

"No. I actually think he did more harm than good to be honest." Adrian winced. "It's a working progress."

"Yeah, but there's something else we can try." Stiles suggested. "The night we were trapped in the school, Scott sent a text to Allison and even Adrian to meet us there."

Derek didn't catch on, frowning deeper than normal. "So?"

"It wasn't Scott." Adrian stated, shaking his head.

Derek's frown only deepened. "Well, can you find out who sent it?" He asked.

The hazel eyed boy shook his head. "No, not me. But I think I know someone who can." He smirked at a certain redhead.

Adrian froze, sighing sadly. "Not Danny."

Stiles' grin widened. "Danny." He confirmed.

❚ ❚ ❚

"You want me to do what?" The goalie asked his friend in disbelief, bag hung over his shoulder as he stood in front of Stiles and the redhead who texted him.

Adrian sighed. "We need you to trace a text."

"I came here to do lab work. That's what lab partners do." Danny said, looking at his spas of a lab partner.

Stiles groaned. "And we will, once you trace the text." He announced.

Danny squinted his eyes at the pair. "And what makes you think I know how?"

"Easy. We're good friends and Stiles is a stalker and looked up your arrest report." Adrian explained, gesturing between the three of them.

Danny was at loss for words, completely taken back with the information the two knew. "I-I was thirteen." He tried to claim. "They dropped the charges. No, we're doing lab work."

"Danny, all we need is one simple text traced to- AHH!" Adrian's sentence was cut short when a piercing scream invaded his eardrums, knocking him to his knees.

With his eyes squeezed shut, Adrian began to see a blur of things; many things. The first was of him and Stiles surprisingly, both of them wearing suits around what looked to be a school dance. The second was of Coach chasing after Scott, which confused the boy. And the next . . . was his sister in a nice dress, falling to the floor covered in blood; his own shouts drained in the background.

What is this? Adrian thought fearfully. I'm not asleep. I'm not dreaming . . . so what is this?

"Adrian!" Stiles' voice and hands on his shoulder brought him back. When the redhead jumped, his eyes opened to see everyone looking down at him concernedly- Stiles more so than anyone. "You okay?"

"Yeah," The boy breathed out, his eyes telling the tale that he had seen some things. He squeezed his green orbs shut, trying to get the images out his head. "Sorry, just . . . bad headache." He played it off, Danny seeming to believe it or not question it.

Stiles eventually managed to convince the goalie to trace the text, the two sitting by his computer as Adrian took a rest on the bed. His mind wouldn't stop wandering to the image he had seen of his sister. What happened to her? Was it real? Was it fake? If it was real, what did that mean?

"Who's he again?" He heard Danny murmur to the pale boy, most likely referring to creepy Derek, who was slumped in a chair at the corner of the room reading a book.

"Um, my cousin . . . Miguel." Stiles came up with as a response. If it weren't for the weird imagines plaguing him, Adrian would've laughed.

"Is that blood on his shirt?" Danny confusedly asked, slightly weirded out by the older man.

Stiles didn't reply immediately. "Yeah, well, he gets these really bad nosebleeds for, like, no reason sometimes." He turned to the werewolf, nodding to him. "Hey, Miguel. I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts." He gestured with his head to his drawers.

Derek slammed the book shut with a glare, throwing it beside Adrian who watched the man get up and strip off his shirt, throwing it beside him. The tattoo on his back was revealed and Adrian couldn't help but stare at it, wondering what it symbolised.

Plus, Derek wasn't the worse looking guy in the world. Sure, he wasn't Adrian's type but . . . he was pretty intriguing.

"Stiles?" Adrian snapped out of his gazing to see Derek holding one of Stiles' shirts, stretching it in his hands. "This . . . no fit."

Stiles glared at him as Danny stared; most likely thinking the same as Adrian was. "Then try something else on." He went to turn back, only to notice the goalie staring at the werewolf.

Derek put on an ugly brown and blue striped shirt, the material becoming a second piece of skin due to his body build. Adrian laughed through his nose as Stiles had a look of enjoyment plastered. "That one looks pretty good, huh? What do you think, Danny?"

Danny snapped out of it when Stiles nudged him on the shoulder, an out of focus look placed on. "Huh?"

"The shirt."

The man hesitated, not meeting Derek's eyes fully as he spoke. "It's . . . It's not really his colour." He cleared his throat, scared of voicing his opinions.

Derek tried again, taking off the shirt to look for another one. Stiles turned back over to the boy. "You swing for a different team, but you still play ball, don't you, Danny Boy?"

"You're a horrible person."

"I know. It keeps me awake at night." Stiles quickly spoke, sounding genuine. "Anyway, about that text . . ."

"Stiles!" Derek abruptly yelled, alerting the three teens in the room with him. He glared. "None of these fit." He held a dark shirt in a clenched hand.

"I'll need the ISP, the phone number, and the exact time of the text." Danny said quickly, pressing something into Stiles' computer.

Adrian smirked, giving Stiles a cheesy thumbs up. Things were finally starting to move forward.

❚ ❚ ❚

"Are you sure it's her?" Adrian questioned from the backseat of Stiles' jeep, a look of disbelief on his face. "I mean, why would Melissa send a text to me and Allison?

Danny had managed to get the account name of whoever sent the text to Adrian the night they were all trapped in the school. Apparently, it came from Melissa McCall's name from Beacon Hills Hospital, meaning it was supposedly her. Adrian had severe doubts however.

"I guess we'll find out." Stiles breathed deeply, continuing the drive to the Hospital where they would hopefully get answers.

Adrian sighed deeply and rested his back on the seat, running stressed hands through his hair. "Great. First I'm seeing a dead woman in my dreams and now Scott's mum tries to kill me. Flipping great!" He muttered sarcastically.

Derek furrowed his brows, glancing at the redhead. "What do you mean seeing a dead woman?" He asked curiously. "Has this been happening ever since the Alpha bit you?"

"Yes!" Adrian yelled, eyes wide as he eagerly leaned forward. He wanted answers, and if Derek Hale was the one to give them; so be it. "I've been seeing things: visions, I think. And, I've been seeing Thana Sparrow; the crazy dead lady. I think she's been trying to tell me something."

"Anything else?" Derek hesitated, a look coming onto his face neither Adrian nor Stiles could place.

"Well, I've been having severe head pains recently. And as you saw in Stiles' place, that last one knocked me off my legs." The boy told him.

"What happened back there exactly?" Stiles questioned, moving his eyes from the road for a second to glance at the Martin through the review mirror.

Adrian sighed, a sad look on his face accounting what he saw. "I saw us. Me, you, Scott, Allison . . . and Lydia. It looked like we were at an event; like a dance. You and I were laughing and Coach was chasing after Scott. And Lydia . . ." He trailed off, losing his words.

"And Lydia what?" The Stilinski boy asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"She was outside, on the lacrosse pitch, I think. She-She was dressed up. Then, she was on the ground . . . blood covered her. I-I could hear myself screaming in the distance." The boy's hand trembled, too scared to even think what that meant again.

Derek sighed from the front seat, cursing under his breath. Stiles and Adrian eyed him in confusion, the redhead leaning forwards more. Derek took the hand off his face, a frown on his face. "I know what you are."

Adrian's eyes bulged out of his head, a newfound excitement in his eyes. Maybe by finally knowing what he was, he could get the answers he was searching for. "Well? Care to share?"

"You're a Necromancer."

And just like that, his life was changed. Adrian backed up, raising his eyebrows. "A Necromancer? What the hell is that?"

Derek sighed. "It's an incredibly rare supernatural species. I wasn't even aware there could be any left alive; you may be the only one of your kind."

"That's reassuring." Adrian mumbled sarcastically to himself, gaining back his focus. "So what does being a Necromancer entail? Like, what can I do?"

"Well, you have the power of necromancy; otherwise known as the Dark Arts. Depending on how strong your abilities grow to be, you could end up doing a wide variety of things." The older werewolf explained. "You have the power to utilise magic revolving around the dead. Like a connection and control over the deceased, a death sense, motor-skill manipulation. And, if you are powerful enough, you could possible revive the dead back to the living. There could be many more but the research revolving around Necromancer's is little."

"So, in other words, I'm basically a much darker and life-ruining version of a witch?" Adrian questioned from the backseat, drumming his fingers to stop their shaking.

"But way cooler." Stiles pointed out, trying to cheer the redhead up from the overwhelming news he had just received. Stiles was trying to take it all in himself.

"So I can communicate with the dead?" Adrian squinted, still not grasping the fact he was indeed a supernatural being.

"Yes." Derek nodded. "And by the sounds of things, the dead seem to want to communicate with you."

There was a beat of silence in the car, Stiles worrying due to the boy's silence. "Adrian? You okay?" He slowly asked, not wanting to distress him.

"I just learned probably the most disturbing thing i will ever know. So no, I am not okay!" Adrian suddenly yelled, his unexpected outburst making the boy behind the wheel jump and the werewolf raise his eyebrows. The redhead presses his fingers to his temples. "There is too much going on in my mind right now!"

Before the boy could stress about his now named abilities, Scott's caller ID popped up on Stiles' phone. The pale boy put him on speaker when he pulled into the car park so they all could hear him. "Did you get the picture?" The young werewolf asked.

"Yeah, I did, and it looks just like the drawing." His best friend explained, holding the phone up.

Derek's hand snapped out to grasp Stiles' wrist, bringing the phone closer to his face. "Hey, is there something on the back of it? There's gotta be something. An inscription, an opening, something."

"No, no, The thing's flat. And no, it doesn't open." Scott told them before either could ask. "There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And where are you and Adrian? You're both supposed to be here. You're first line, Stiles."

Adrian frowned, snapping his head up. "The lacrosse game. Stiles, you're gonna miss it." He said sadly, feeling bad. This was his first time actually playing, his dad was even going.

Echoed background shouts came from the call, more like a yell. "Man, you're not gonna play if you're not here to start." The werewolf went on, only making Adrian feel worse.

"I know." Stiles slammed his head against the wheel, clearly annoyed at the situation as was Adrian. "Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him . . . tell him I'll be there, I'll be just a little late, okay? All right, thanks." He hung up, a thick silence resting.

Derek stared at them blankly. "You're not gonna make it."

"We know." Adrian and Stiles muttered in unison, their heads bowed in sadness.

"And you didn't tell him about his mum, either." Derek noted.

Adrian shook his head. "We can't tell Scott, not until we have the full story." He claimed, his mind begging it not to be sweet Melissa McCall.

There was silence between the three before Derek spoke casually again. "By the way, one more thing."

"Yeah." Stiles turned to face him, Derek grabbing his head and slamming in on the wheel before he could react. Adrian's eyes widened at the cry Stiles gave out, holding his face in pain. "Ow! What the hell was-"

Derek pointed harshly at him. "You know what that was for. Now go. Go!" He gestured the two to the hospital, Adrian muttering curses to the man as he and Stiles popped out.

"Your nose okay?" He questioned as they walked through the hospital doors, checking over for any other injuries.

Stiles winced, wiping his nose with his jacket sleeve. "I'm fine." He sighed. "Let's just do this so Mr Sourwolf doesn't kill us."

"If he does, I can try to bring us back." Adrian weakly smiled, wiggling his fingers. Stiles scoffed and playfully nudged him, the two beginning their search for Scott's mum.

❚ ❚ ❚

"Yeah, I said we can't find her." Stiles told Derek through the phone, Adrian close behind as he looked around the white walls.

"Look, ask for Jennifer. She's been looking after my uncle." Derek told them, the two boys heading for Peter Hale's room. It was only a recent thing, Adrian learning about Derek's burned potato-like uncle. This would be the first time he ever saw him.

Instead of seeing the man in the room as Adrian and Stiles originally thought, they were shocked to find the room completely empty. In fact, it didn't look like anyone had been using the room at all.

"Yeah, well, he's not here either." Stiles told the werewolf, Adrian tucking his hands in his pocket. Hospitals always made him feel uneasy.

"What?" Derek's tone was in disbelief.

"He's not here. He's gone." Adrian explained, observing the room. "The room doesn't even look used."

Adrian walked away from the room later on as Stiles talked to Derek through the phone separately, the two bickering back and forth.

Adrian stopped when he saw a figure stood in the hospital hallway, a familiar sense coming off from him. Adrian didn't have to think too hard before he registered the man with the half burned face to be Peter Hale.

Peter stared at them, specifically the redhead gaping at him. A sly grin crossed his face. "Adrian," He addressed, tilting his head. "What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Adrian's face fell, eyes hardening at the man. "Screw you." He muttered, the man only smirking in amusement.

Peter turned to glance at the boy next to the supernatural creature. "And you must be Stiles." Adrian stepped in front of the Stilinski boy slightly, placing him behind as the pale boy lowered his phone.

Taking small steps backwards, the two prepared to make a break for it when they stopped in their tracks. A nurse was now in their way, tilting her head slightly in an innocent manner. "What are you doing here? Visiting hours are over." Her tone was that of a mock, the two teenagers coming to a realisation.

She was the one to send the text message to Adrien and Allison; not Melissa. And Peter Hale was the Alpha who bit the McCall and Martin boys.

Stiles' face fell, his mouth falling open in shock. "You . . ." He trailed off, pointing at the nurse. "And him." He paused, blinking. "You're the one who . . . Oh, my . . . And he's . . ." The Stilinski boy looked between the two adults, running a hand through his buzzcut. "Oh, my god, we're gonna die. We're gonna die."

The redhead cursed under his breath, shuffling into Stiles just as Derek came to the rescue. The older werewolf smacked the nurse in the face by his elbow, knocking her down. He glared at his uncle, who remained unfazed.

"That's not nice." Peter taunted. "She's my nurse.

"She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people." Derek corrected, looking to the two teenagers. "Get out of the way."

Stiles and Adrian didn't need to be told twice. The two boys pulled each other down to the ground, Stiles muttering as his heart went into a frenzy. He held Adrian close, the redhead unfazed by the act of closeness. In fact, he wanted the Stilinski boy closer now; that way he felt both protected and protective.

"You think I killed Laura on purpose?" Peter took confident strides towards Derek. "One of my own family?"

Derek growled, his eyes flashing an electric blue as he jumped onto the wall and kicked off it. He landed on his uncle, the two fighting it out as Stiles backed him and Adrian further against the wall.

Peter grabbed his nephews' jacket, slamming him to the wall. Adrian winced, watching the family fight it out werewolf style by slamming one another against the walls; trying to over dominate.

Derek was thrown beside the two boys, dust coming off the walls and onto them. Stiles scrammed immediately, taking Adrian with him as they took refuge behind the reception desk.

Now, scared for what would happen if they stayed any longer, Adrian grabbed Stiles by the forearm when glass was heard. The boy ran with him to the ends of the hospital, not stopping until the safety of Stiles' jeep surrounded them.

"What about Derek?" Adrian stopped the boy from driving just as the keys were in the ignition. He casted a glance over at the hospital, knowing Derek was still fighting his uncle.

Stiles looked between the boy and the building nervously, biting his lip. "There's nothing we can do but hope for the best."

A U T H O R. N O T E
yo, i was up all night taking notes of how i want season six b to end despite not having planned every season and . . . i- i genuinely felt like a mad scientist at work.

so, now we know what adrian is, necromancers are something i didn't even know existed until now so i'm trying to learn a lot. people will think i've gone insane if they look at my search history this past month.

GIF MADE BY ME !
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