Chapter Text
It was late one cold misty night when the police of Beacon Hills, a small town in California, gathered at the rural outskirts of the town. Police officers, State troopers and local rangers patrolled around with cadaver dogs were pulling at their leads and barking at each other. Soon the crowd split into different groups, flicking on flash lights and a few seconds later, were walking into the dense shadowy woods. The desperate search had begun.
Meanwhile not too far from the woods was a two-story home sits amongst a group of trees. A soft draft drifts into the open window on the second floor, into a bedroom where the only occupant sat, using both hands to skilfully thread the lace on the head of the lacrosse stick. The work was fast and precise, pulling the lace into a diamond mesh pattern.
Sixteen year old Scott McCall sat in nothing but a pair of shorts, his small lithe frame still needed some filling out but easy to tell it would in time. His deep black eyes that would crush the heart of many hopeful young girls were drawn in concentration.
Once the last knot was done, he tested his work with a few punches before he placed the ball into the catch and spun the lacrosse stick. Once the stick was placed on his bed, he walked over to his bathroom doorway to do a few chin-ups on the bar before going to brush his teeth. With a splash of water to the face and shuffling sound reached his ears from the open window.
Quickly he moved, slipping on a grey shirt and a red hoodie before grabbing a bat and walking out onto the porch, looking around in the dark wasn’t easy, holding his breath tight and hands clutched tightly on the bat. Slowly walking to the side, he listened, stopping dead still when he heard the shuffling again, and suddenly a figure swings down earning a scream from Scott, ready to swing only for the figure how screamed as well. Just before he swings however, he noticed just who was hanging before him.
“Stiles, What the hell are you doing!” Scott yelled at his best friend, his voice filled with exasperation and surprise. Stiles just hanged there, caught on the trellis, looking unfazed by his friends gasping breaths to calm his racing heart.
“You weren’t answering your phone.” He answered indignantly, his arms waving wildly by his head. Stiles Stilinski was also sixteen years old, hyperactive and with near infinite energy, his whiskey coloured eyes narrowed confusingly as they looked at the bat in Scott’s still shaking hands. “Why’d you have a bat?”
Scott looked over to the bat in his hands, a nervous still in shock smile on his face. “I thought you were a predator.” He replied with a shrug. Stiles looked at him annoyed.
“A pre-” Stiles cut himself off and scoffs with a shake of his head, his arms move to mimic that if he was the right way around that he would be dropping his head into his hands. “Look, I know its late but you gotta hear this. I saw my Dad leave twenty minutes ago, dispatch called, they are bringing in every officer from the beacon county and even state police.” He said with emphases on and. Scott, now calmed down a bit looked confused and slightly displeased. “For what?” he asked.
Stiles spoke without much expression but his voice was a lightly raspy from hanging upside down for two long. “Two joggers found a body in the woods.” He spoke, letting the words sink in to Scott’s head; he pulled himself up before jumping to the ground below. Scott looked at him with a new interest. “A dead body?”
Stiles that had landed on the ground, leaned against the railing, looked highly irritated. “No a body of water, yes dumbass, a dead body.” He spoke, his voice willed with his trade mark sarcasm. With that the pale boy climbed up over the fence to stand in front of Scott. Scott face betrayed his interest. “You mean like murdered.” Scott inquires.
Stiles put his hands on his hips. “Nobody knows yet, just that it was a girl, probably in her late twenties.” Stile speaks, making gestured with his hands. Scott shook his head, the apparent look of confusion permanently glued to his face. “But hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?” IT seemed like this was the question Stiles had been waiting for because a slim smile appeared on his face.
“That’s the best part.” Stiles announced, barely able to contain his excitement. “They only found half.” He looked at his friend’s raised eye-brows, with a small intake of air between his slightly parted lips he announced.
“We’re going.”
-*-
Not too long later the boys were sitting in Stiles mode of transport. The old beat up jeep was a light blue colour with many noticeable bents and bumps. The jeep slowed to a stop in front of a sign that read; Beacon Hills Reserve with a smaller sign beneath that saying no entre after dark. By now a light rain has started, slowly covering everything in a layer of wet, causing the temperatures to drop further. The boys quickly got out once the jeep had stopped, Stiles got out carrying a flash light. Scott looked over to him as they rounded the front. “Are we seriously doing this?” he asked, his voice on the edge with nervous and the cold.
Stiles was still excited as ever despite the conditions, he looked at Scott with a face of disbelief. “You’re the one who’s always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” He spoke, walking forward and giving Scott a pat on the shoulder on his way past. Scott just looked in disbelief at the others back. “I was trying to get good nights sleep for tomorrow.” With a huff he moved to catch up with his friend, walking over wet soil and fallen leaves. Many thin trees scattered around them, giving them both the ability to pull themselves up but also in the dark created obstacles the teens had to avoid. “Right,” stiles replied still moving forward. “Because sitting on the bench is such a gruelling effort.” He replied.
Scott replied with a huff, “No because I’m playing this year, In fact I’m making first line.” He said, following behind Stiles. “Ay that’s the spirit, everyone should have a dream, even an pathetic unrealistic one.” Stiles sarcasm was back, earning a small laugh from Scott. “Stiles, Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” He asked. This caused stiles to pause his walking for a minute, expression thoughtful.
“Huh, I didn’t even think about that.” He continued forward, Scott now at his side. Another small laugh from Scott, “And ah, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” Stiles didn’t pause this time but a nervous and thoughtful expression was still on his face. “Also something I didn’t think about.” He then admitted. The teens approached a small slope and crouched down to aid themselves in climbing up it. “It’s comforting to know you planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” He spoke, his voice raspy and ruff. Scott pulled himself up with a large tree and leaned against it, taking out his inhaler and shaking it. “Maybe the sever asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight.” Scott spoke, the statement coming out between gasps of breaths. Both suddenly heard the sound of a few dogs barking, the hurried up the last bit before diving for the ground, off in the distance was the patrolling officers, walking in a line to cover more ground to search, dogs barking and pulling each way.
Scott took a breath from the inhaler before putting it back in his hoodie’s pocket, Stile lay beside him, a smile of excitement on his face, and he stood to stand and rush forward only for Scott to grab a hold of him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, if you go forward you’ll only run into them and get caught and in trouble.” Scott whispered yelled at the boy next to him, Stiles didn’t seem convinced and was going to speak but Scott interrupted him. “Also your dad could be there, also known as the Sheriff.” This point got him to sigh. “Fine, let’s head back then.” He grumbled, unhappiness firm in his voice. Quickly but quietly the two teens slipped back down the hill and began heading back the way they came, only for the flash light to flicker and die.
“Damn, do you have any spare batteries?” Scott asked as they came to a stop, Stiles looked up at the other, annoyance and frustration written over his face and in his sour expression, “Do I look like I have any?” he asked, voice laced with sarcasm again standing with his arms out and scoffing when the other actually looked him over. Flumping his arms back down he turned around and tried to get his bearings in the dark woods. “Looks like we will be retracing our steps.” He said before walking in a direction with a faster step, wanting to get back to his jeep. The two walk for a bit at the fast pace before coming to a halt. Looking around, the appeared to be in a clearing before either could speak a distant noise filled the air.
There sound filled the foggy air, mixing between the sounds of the trees. The sound became louder, sounding like a bunch of foot falls against the wet leaves. Scott’s breathing was coming in short breaths from fear so he pulled out his inhaler again but didn’t get a chance to use it. Deer, a whole heard of them came rushing from the dark, Stiles and Scott dived to the sides, trying to avoid the stampede. The deer were all running and jumping, in the midst of the chaos Scott dropped the inhaler from where he dived for a fallen log to the side. Stills stood shaking against the tree he collapsed against. Once the deer had passed Scott pulled out his dying phone and used the light to search the ground.
Stiles slowly gained his legs back, walking over to the crouched asthmatic. “What are you doing?” He asked, looking at light that the phone gave off. “I dropped my inhaler.” Was his gasping reply, Stiles felt slightly guilty because he knew how mush Scott needed it and how expensive it was, so he moved to help only for the light to hit a something. It was a head, expression frozen and eyes glossy, the black hair tangled, filled with dirt and leaves. The head was attacked to only the upper body, the waist down was gone.
Both boys screamed and threw themselves back, away from the dead girl, hearts beating out of their chests, unfortunately, the jump backwards sent them tripping down another long slope, once they stopped at the bottom they groaned in pain. A snap of a twig not far behind them had their rapid heartbeats slowing down just as quickly as they had spread up. They both turned in sync to look behind them, only to spot a large hunched over figure with blazing red eyes. Before a scream could make its way from their throats it was on them, a large hand pinned down stiles chest. Scott screamed in agony as it bit his side, razor teeth slicing into his flesh, pooling blood. Stiles had meanwhile grabbed a nearby stone had used it to hit the figures head, only this left his arm up, that let the monster turn and bit his arm, deep enough to nick his bone. Then just as it was there, it was gone, leaving the boys in agony. Neither paid it much mind as they both got up and ran, not knowing or caring where just running. Soon they stumbled into the road, a car, blaring its horn, drove around them. Both stood the gulping down much needed air into their deprived lungs.
“What the fuck was that.” Stile all but yelled at Scott who was still struggling for air. “I don’t know.” He wheezed out. Slowly pushing himself to stand up straight, lifting his bloody shirt looking at the area of the bit. The open road provided just a bit more light than the woods but not enough to see fully. Stiles was applying pressure the best he could to his arm wound, his face a mixture of fear and pain.
“Come on man, let’s look for the Jeep so we can patch up the wounds before we bleed to death.” Stiles said, sarcasm creeping back into his voice. A wolf howl sounded of in the distance, causing them to look around in panic and in Stiles cause, disbelief. There are no wolves in California.
-*-
The next morning Stile woke up feeling ok, despite the bite on his arm, that was hurting a lot less then the night before, Stiles was laid in bed just staring up at the ceiling. After Scott and he had heard the howl, he had quickly denied it because wolves were extinct in California, once they caught their breaths they slowly walked to the jeep, thankful for the road signs otherwise they would be lost. The climbed into the Jeep and used the dome light to further study their bloody wounds. On Scott’s side was large bite, teeth marks and all while Stiles couldn’t get a good look at his on his upper arm, Scott said it looked bad. They drove back to Scott’s place to patch themselves up, Scott doing most of the work on his arms. After that it was late, like nearly one in the morning so Stiles left, heading back home to clean up a bit and get into bed. The pain medicine calling his name, although he couldn’t take it because it would make him drowsy while driving.
Now however it was a new day, and the pain was all but gone, getting up from bed he walked over to the bathroom, looking at the bandaged area of his arm, the white was tinted with dried blood but he didn’t pay much attention to it, slowly he got ready for the day, showering and changing the bandages which was a lot easier to do without having to clean it, only for he to notice that the bite wasn’t there, well it was still there but it looked weeks old, no blood except the dried blood on the bandage. Stiles looked on in shock; something wasn’t right, at all. Hearing movement form downstairs meant his dad was awake, having gotten home shortly after Stiles got into bed, he ignored his arm and just bandaged it back up for extra measure before heading downstairs to make breakfast.
Stepping into the kitchen he noticed that his dad was rummaging around in the fridge, most likely looking for something to eat that wasn’t healthy. “Morning Dad, don’t worry, I’ll make us some nice oatmeal for breakfast.” He declared, moving over to the cupboard to gather the oats and bowls. Noah Stilinski groaned in despair, “Can’t we have a nice omelette with some bacon?” he asked desperately turning to his son who seems to be lost in thought, standing in front of the grocery cupboard. Stiles was assaulted by the different smells that was hitting his nose. He hasn’t smelt anything like this before, it was strange. “Stiles?” he dad asked worried at his unusually silence. Not feeling up for a one sided argument, Stile released the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Fine, we’ll have some pancakes,” He said, watching his father’s face light up with a smile, “But with only fruits, no syrup or extra sugar and no greasy foods for the next two nights.” He finished with a smirk, watching as his dad’s expression fade into one of horror. Quickly he got everything ready before standing at the stove, pouring batter into the pan, his dad sitting at the dining table reading the news paper with a cup of coffee in hand. They spent the next few minutes in silence, only broken by the sizzle of the stove and the occasional turn of a page before Stiles phone went off. Stiles put the last pancake onto a plate and turned off the stove before moving to read the message, it was from Scott with a picture, Scott’s bad texting giving him a mini headache.
To: Stiles
From: Scotty
-Bro, it 8nt mkin sens!
The picture attached was off his side, the bite looked just like his wound, a few days old at most. Stiles quickly replied that they will meet and discuss it at school. Grabbing his bag and with a quick good-bye to his father, Stiles strolled out the door to Roscoe, the name he calls his Jeep, climbing in he drove to School.
Scott on the other hand was busy no freaking out as he peddled to school, bag on back with his lacrosse tightly strapped down. Swerving his bike to turn to the side he continued going down the street, soon the worry was replaced with childlike excitement, it was a new day back at school also because it was tryouts, and he was going to make first line, no matter what Stiles thinks of it. Scott soon pulled into the Schools parking lot, riding over to the bike racks before climbing off, looking around at the many students as he chained up his bike, a car pulled into the driveway, the driver’s side door opening and hitting him in the back. Scott turned around at this and noticed it was none other than Jackson Whittemore, Beacon Hills High number one Jock, Captain of the Swim team and Star lacrosse player. Jackson stood at full height, a bit taller than Scott with dark blond hair and blue eyes, expression that of annoyed. “Dude, what the paint job,” He told Scott off. Scott looked confused at how it was his fault that Jackson hit him with the door but didn’t reply as someone called Jacksons name from the distance. With one last look, Jackson walked off.
Shrugging Scott began his walk towards the schools entrance, when someone ran up beside him, it was his number one best friend/brother; Stiles. “Hey, how’s yours?” he said being discreet, quickly moving his eyes towards Scotts side then back to his face.
“I don’t know, I wasn’t hurting at all this morning when I work up, I went to take it off for a shower but only actually noticed it when I was getting out, I freaked out a bit then texted you.” Scott admitted, turning to continue walking towards the school. “Mines also looking very old, we need to figure out what it was.” Stiles said, walking to in front of Scott, Scott looked confused at Stiles.
“Wasn’t it a wolf, I mean, we both heard one howl.” Scott was confused, they both heard the howl and it did attack them. Stiles mad a sound similar to a scoff, shaking his head, not bothering to look back at him. “There are no more wolves in California, haven’t been for like sixty years, meaning, not a wolf.” He said his voice a bit upbeat with being knowledgeable. “It might of just been a dog howl,” he suggested. Scott disagreed.
“I work at a Vet, Stiles, I’ve heard some dogs howl but that was no dog.” He insisted, they walked up to the steps. “Maybe it was a dog you haven’t seen before,” Stiles pressed on, “Besides, we found the body, this is going to be the best thing that happened to this town since-” Stiles sentence trailed of, his line of vision drifting of Scotts shoulder to something behind him. “Since the birth of Lydia Martin,” he said looking at the petite woman with very pale skin and long strawberry-blonde hair as she walked on by. “Hey, Lydia, you look-” Lydia just walked passed him without any recognition, “Like your gonna ignore me.” He said, stomping his foot and give a angry huff he turn accusingly at his laughing friend, “You’re the cause of this you know.”
“Uh-huh.” Was Scotts only reply, “Dragging me down to your nerd depths.” He explained as the bell rang for the beginning of the new school year. “Uh-huh.” was Scotts uncaring reply, Stiles didn’t seem finished yet as they walked up the stairs into the building.
“I’m a nerd by association, I’ve been scarlet nerded by you.”
-*-
Scott and Stiles were sitting in their English class, books open in front of them. Stiles sat by the windows, a row behind Scott, the two shared a look, as the teacher droned on about the body that was found in the woods. However neither was aware that a suspect was in custody, Scott looked back at his friend who had and equally confused look on his face. They snapped out of it when the teacher turned their attention towards the syllabus for the year on their tables and many of the students groaned.
A sharp ringing sound filled the air, Stiles and Scott looked around to find out who it was only to notice that no one else seemed hear it. Scott again looked at Stiles only to spoke a girl outside on the bench, going through her bag, Stiles noticed where he was looking, when the phone was picked up.
“Mom, three calls on my first day, is a little over-doing it,” The girl outside spoke, still looking through her bag, phone between shoulder and ear, the boys shared a quick slight anxious exchange. “Everything except a pen, Oh, my god, I seriously didn’t actually forget a pen.” Suddenly she looked up before telling her mom she had to leave, hanging up and standing to great the teacher who apologized for being late. Both teens continued to listen to their voices as they walked into the school and towards the class door. With a quick knock it opened to the teacher and the apparent new girl. She was a tall and thin young woman with pale white and lightly freckled skin, curly dark brown hair, and brown eyes.
“Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome.” He said, Allison walking over to the only empty seat which was the one directly behind Scott. Stiles watched her from the corner of her eye, pretending to be reading the syllabus, Scott was openly staring at her and as soon as she was seated, turned and offered her one of his pens. She looked confused at it for a second then looked at Scott’s obvious love sick puppy face, then took the pen with thanks. Scott turned around in his seat, the smile not leaving his face much to Stiles irritation.