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It was dark and quiet on the bus and Stiles was feeling anxious as he looked at how unhappy everyone seemed to be. Isaac was stuck at the front with Coach Finstock - punishment for something everyone was quietly labeling homophobic bullying - while Boyd looked lonely in the seat by himself. Even if they weren’t really friends, Stiles knew how alone Boyd felt - especially since Erica’s death.
Scott was still in pain. And while Stiles thought the guy would be happy sitting next to Allison, Scott really didn’t look like it, face pulled down in a grimace and body curved away from her as if afraid of what she’d do if he got too close. Of course Allison looked just as uncomfortable. But there was something more to her, something Stiles couldn’t figure out, that was making her look so drawn and pale. He didn’t know if it was just having to stitch up Scott or what, but it wasn’t like Allison to be so withdrawn.
Lydia was making faces - deep in thought most likely - and avoiding eye contact with everyone around her. She’d been going on and on about having a bad feeling about the motel Coach was taking them too. Stiles hated to admit it but bad shit seemed to follow Lydia around like a puppy so he was pretty sure they could all expect something terrible to happen.
Even Thing One sitting next to Danny looked pissed. And all of his injuries had healed. Though Stiles was betting it had to do with Danny more than anything. Because Danny wasn’t smiling and the absence of those dimples was very telling. Stiles wondered what happened between the two of them.
Either way, Stiles hated when people around him weren’t happy. It affected his mood so much. And since they still had a few hours left on the bus, Stiles was feeling that crawling in his skin that told him he had to do something and fast. Otherwise who knew what could happen? Last time he’d been stuck somewhere surrounded by depressed people (his mom’s grave on the anniversary of her death) he’d had a panic attack. Most of the family thought it was out of grief - which was partly true - but it mostly stemmed from feeling waves of unhappiness coming from every person present.
Looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to him, Stiles said softly but clearly, “penis," and waited to see who would respond.
It came as a surprise when he heard Allison call, “penis," a little bit louder. Scott let out a little giggle and Lydia huffed. But since she didn’t outright chastise Stiles for his juvenile behavior, he was counting that as a win.
“Penis."
Stiles said it loud enough that the people in front of him turned around to look. He shrugged at them and then smiled when Ashley, the blonde one, called out “penis," with a long drawn out s.
Pretty soon the word was bouncing around the bus, so that Stiles couldn’t really tell who was saying it. But as penis was getting called out louder and louder, Finstock could no longer claim ignorance to the game. Every time someone shouted out, he’d blow that goddamn whistle. And while the shrill noise made Stiles want to jump up there and shove the thing down Finstock’s throat, the rest of the bus responded by laughing and screaming louder. Of course that only made Finstock start swearing at everyone in turn.
Stiles was near tears as he leaned back in his seat. He wasn’t sure what was coming for everyone once they reached the motel but at least for now everyone was laughing and smiling.
There was a lull in the noise, no one really being able to out shout anyone else anymore. And they were almost to the motel, Stiles could see the exit sign from his window. But he wasn’t worried about having to feel the slow creep of sadness enter the bus again. Everyone seemed to be riding the tide of immature antics he’d started.
Good job, Stilinski.
Across from him, Stiles heard Scott inhale deeply. He saw Scott’s eyes begin to glow and his fangs pop out just slightly as he smiled. With a wink, Scott opened his mouth and shouted, “PENIS!" so loud the windows rattled.
Every student on the bus stood up and cheered.
“Dammit McCall! I don’t care how dark it is. When we get to the motel you’re running suicides until your legs fall off!"
Stiles was looking forward to Finstock dropping from exhaustion long before Scott did.