19: Uneasy Discoveries

The sun peeked over the horizon, casting its warm glow on Beacon Hills as I jogged back home. My body still hummed with the energy of last night's battle. I felt stronger, faster, and sharper, but something heavier lingered in my mind: responsibility.

My victory over the rogue beta was a step forward, but it also painted a target on my back—and possibly Scott's.

I reached our house just as Scott was leaving for school. He stood by his bike, adjusting his backpack, his face pale and drawn.

"Morning," I said casually, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead.

Scott looked up, his eyes narrowing. "Where were you?"

"Out for a run." I kept my tone light, but the intensity in his gaze made it clear he wasn't buying it.

"At sunrise?" His voice was skeptical, bordering on accusatory.

"I needed to clear my head," I replied, brushing past him toward the door.

"Clear your head from what? You've been acting weird lately."

I stopped, turning to face him. "Weird? I could say the same about you."

Scott's jaw tightened. "At least I'm not sneaking out in the middle of the night."

The tension between us crackled, but before I could respond, the sound of an approaching car broke the moment. Stiles' beat-up Jeep screeched to a halt at the curb, and his head popped out of the window.

"Hey, twins! Are we fighting before school now? Because I am so here for this drama," Stiles said, grinning.

Scott rolled his eyes and grabbed his bike. "I'm not fighting. I'm just... never mind. Let's go."

I hesitated, watching him ride off ahead of us. Stiles climbed out of the Jeep and approached me.

"Okay, spill. What's going on with Scott? He's been acting like someone stole his puppy, and it's weirding me out."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "He's... dealing with a lot. I don't think he's handling all these changes very well."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Changes? You mean the whole 'howling at the moon' thing?"

"Yeah," I said, lowering my voice. "He's struggling, and I'm not sure how to help him."

Stiles tilted his head, studying me. "You seem to be doing fine with it, though. Why do you think Scott's having such a hard time?"

"Maybe it's personality, maybe it's the way the bite affects each of us differently," I said carefully. "I don't know. But it's driving a wedge between us."

"Yeah, I've noticed the tension," Stiles admitted, crossing his arms. "You're his twin. Shouldn't you guys be, like, super synced or whatever?"

"Apparently not," I muttered, glancing down the street where Scott had disappeared.

At school, the tension between Scott and me was impossible to ignore. In class, he avoided sitting next to me. At lunch, he chose a table on the far side of the cafeteria.

Stiles slid into the seat across from me, his tray piled high with junk food. "Okay, this is officially weird. Scott never willingly sits away from you. Did something happen?"

"Nothing major," I said, stabbing at my salad. "He's just... overwhelmed."

"Or maybe he's jealous," Stiles said bluntly.

I frowned. "Jealous of what?"

"You," Stiles replied, munching on a handful of chips. "Dude, you're handling this whole werewolf thing like a pro. Scott's, well, not. He's probably feeling like he's in your shadow."

"That's ridiculous," I said, though the thought nagged at me. "This isn't a competition."

"Tell that to Scott," Stiles said, shrugging. "Look, I know he's your brother and all, but you've gotta talk to him before this gets worse."

"I'll try," I said, though I wasn't sure how to bridge the growing gap between us.

Later that afternoon, I found Scott at the lacrosse field, practicing his shots with single-minded intensity. I stood by the edge of the field, watching as he hurled the ball into the net over and over again.

"Scott," I called.

He didn't look up.

"Scott," I repeated, stepping closer.

"What do you want?" he snapped, his voice sharp.

"I want to talk," I said, keeping my tone calm. "About what's been going on between us."

Scott finally turned to face me, his eyes blazing. "What's there to talk about? You've already got everything figured out, don't you?"

"Scott, that's not fair—"

"Isn't it?" he cut me off. "You're fine. You're in control. Meanwhile, I can barely get through a school day without feeling like I'm going to lose it."

"Do you think this has been easy for me?" I asked, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm just trying to figure this out, same as you."

Scott shook his head. "No, you're not the same as me. You're... different. Better. Everyone sees it. Stiles, Coach, even Mom. They all think you're perfect."

"That's not true," I said firmly. "I'm not perfect, Scott. I'm just trying to survive, just like you."

"Yeah, well, you're doing a hell of a lot better job at it," he muttered, turning back to the net.

The weight of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. For all his anger, I could hear the pain underneath.

"Scott, I don't want you to feel this way," I said quietly. "You're my brother. We're supposed to have each other's backs."

Scott hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I know. I just... I feel like I'm failing. At everything."

"You're not failing," I said, stepping closer. "This is hard for both of us. But we'll get through it together. Okay?"

Scott finally looked at me, his expression softening. "Yeah. Okay."

That night, as I lay in bed, the system's voice interrupted my thoughts.

[Host has made progress in resolving interpersonal tension. However, challenges remain.]

"Yeah, I noticed," I muttered.

[Host's primary objective should focus on unity. Stronger bonds will be critical for upcoming trials.]

"I'm working on it," I said, staring at the ceiling.

The system remained silent, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy. But for now, I'd take the small victory of reconnecting with my brother—and hope it was enough to keep us united when the real challenges came.