Drive!
Stiles was in for it this time.
He knew protests could get a little out of control sometimes but this one got too out of control.
Right now he was running away from two police officers chasing him down the street in their patrol car. It was about 2:30 in the morning and there was no one in sight to help him.
How he's managed to not get caught is a surprise even to him.
He was getting tired now. Normally he'd be able to outrun them any day but because of the way the protest turned out, he wasn't in any shape to run.
He had gotten a bloody nose and a busted lip but he hardly felt anything right now, not with all the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Breathing harshly, he tried to look around for a way out.
So far he saw nothing.
There were no alley ways he could cut through, no where he could hide. He was completely and utterly fucked.
He was starting to slow down but he refused to turn back and see just how close the cops were.
The siren hadn't stopped blaring and he was sure everyone in the neighborhood was wide awake by now.
Cursing under his breathe, he tried his best to keep up a fast pace.
That's when he saw him.
The man who seemed to just be getting off his motorcycle.
Stiles was close enough to see the keys still in the ignition. He whispered a silent thank god, before running towards the man.
Once he reached him, he haphazardly hopped onto the back of the mans bike.
The man was startled, looking at Stiles in confusion and a bit of fear.
"Drive! Fucking drive!" The man looked at him with a bizarre look before finally having noticed the cops who were only a few feet away from them.
Without thinking, the man put his helmet back on and drove off.
Stiles sighed in relief as he grabbed onto his torso.
Stiles turned his head back to see the cop car almost disappear. He let out a triumphant holler and turned back to the man driving.
"My name's Stiles, by the way." Stiles spoke, loud enough for the man to hear.
"Derek." The man, Derek, said once he stopped at a red light.
Derek turned his head to look at Stiles and his eyes widened when he saw Stiles' beat up face.
"Whoa, are you okay?" Stiles nodded, waving him off.
"I've been through worse," he gave Derek a crooked smile, "protests get out of hand sometimes."
"Care to explain why you were running from cops and decided to hop on my bike?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Let's talk about it over a milkshake, yeah?" Stiles suggested.
Derek thought about it for a moment before nodding and turning when Stiles gestured that the light had turned green.
"Betsy's Diner should be a few blocks down that way." Stiles said, pointing in the direction of the diner.
Derek followed Stiles' instructions. Once at the diner, he turned off his bike and took off his helmet as Stiles hopped off.
Stiles held in a gasp when he saw Derek's face.
