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The night of the Hale fire, Stiles had to stay in Jon’s office. He wanted to be out there, asking questions, and helping figure this out. But Jon had said it would look wrong for a kid to be out asking pointed questions. So instead, Jon had an ear piece that Stiles could talk into. It worked okay for about five minutes, then the woman had started to smirk and look towards the office. Stiles wasn’t sure how she figured it out, but Jon had stopped listening to him.
Stiles found out about the fire by listening in for the rest of the night. He knew right away that they weren’t looking at the right people, but there was so much chaos around it. To their knowledge they had three survivors, one in critical condition, and dozens dead. It made Stiles sick, and he ended up kicking the desk when he stormed from the office.
The woman Jon had been questioning met him outside. She stood off to the side, in the dark, watching him for a long while before approaching him. Stiles had grown over the years, but he was still young looking, younger than his past two incarnations had been. Instead of the suits, he picked flannel and jeans. He was more laid back he knew, and he still had a few years before he could claim who he really was, but somehow this woman knew something. He didn’t know how, but she knew.
They didn’t so much as speak as stare at each other. Stiles realized as he watched her that he knew what she was. The shiver that went through him came off as fear, but it wasn’t. It was excitement. The woman didn’t react to it though, just tilted her head and then moved off. Stiles watched a second before bolting after her.
He was rounding the corner just as the woman was climbing into a car. She paused for a moment and Stiles looked into her bright red eyes. He grinned madly and shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels.
“Good doggies.” The woman gave a watery laugh as she climbed into the car.
Stiles wouldn’t remember her for another two years. Not until he was staring down at the top half of her corpse.