Chapter Text
The mangled bodies lay on the floor, blood leaking from their wounds and congealing in the carpet. Rivulets stain it a bright crimson, the smell maddening to the crazed wolf in the corner, howling and sobbing. Before he can react, another man breaks down the door, the iron-tinged stench flooding his nostrils and further enraging him. The other wolf lunges, but the older man swivels, a primal bellow lurching from his chest, pinioning the young boy into submission
“Stiles! You idiot, how could you do this?” Chris screams, rushing to the aid of the two teens on the ground. “Shit! Shit! There’s no way they’ll heal from this, no way. Unless… Darn it Stiles!”
Chris’ eyes flash a deep wine, his wolf transformation flowing out of him. He kneels down beside the girl, checks to make sure she still has a pulse.
“Ragged breathing, good enough,” he snarls through his elongated teeth, placing a bite on her neck and quickly turning away.
The human boy lay motionless, blood cascading down his shoulder from the open wound in his neck. Chris figures he won’t make it, but can still hear a faint heartbeat, and so tries anyway. Grabbing the boy’s wrist, he bites, right where his pulse is the strongest and waits.
Stiles cowers in the corner, lost and alone. His first full moon not having went how he expected.
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“Scott! Scott! Something bit me!” Stiles screams, stumbling through the forest blindly. His toes entwine with a stray root, and he plummets to the ground. Grasping his side, the bite still bleeding profusely, he gives up. He knows he can’t continue on, can’t run anymore, and has no idea where Scott is.
“Where are you?” a voice calls from the distance.
“Here!” Stiles yells, exhorting too much energy, but hoping it will be enough for Scott to find him. A few moments pass, unbearable pain coursing through Stiles’ body, before his best friend shows up.
“Oh God! Bro, what happened to you?!” Scott shrieks, his frantic voice and heavy breathing only serving to terrify Stiles even more. They both know if Scott goes into an asthma attack no one will be able to save either of them, so Scott attempts to calm himself.
“Wolf…bite,” Stiles mumbles, losing consciousness.
**********
The next thing he knew, Stiles was waking up, feeling the cold metal on his skin. He blinked, trying to focus past the bright lights.
“I’m so glad you’re awake!” Scott says, leaning over to hug Stiles.
“Ow… no hugs, too painful,” Stiles mumbles, flashing a small smile in spite of himself.
“Dr. Deaton helped you, I wasn’t sure where to go. I figured you would be grounded for life if your dad found out, so I didn’t take you to the hospital,” Scott explains, right as the good doctor waltzes in.
“Thanks a lot Scott,” Stiles pants. “I’m not sure if your boss, the veterinarian, is the best medical help, just for future reference. I’m not a dog you know.”
At Stiles’ comment, Deaton chuckles despite himself, even as he worries for the young boy whose life is about to change forever.
**********
After a week filled with mood swings, unexplainable behavior and more than his share of spectacular feats of strength and agility, Stiles sits down with Scott, Danny and Lydia.
“Ok, I’ve brought you all here, because something weird is going on, and I need to get to the bottom of it,” Stiles addresses his friends. “That is why I have assembled you all here. Scott, you’re my best friend and have been around for most of the odd things that have been going on. Lydia, you’re a super genius even if you won’t admit it to anyone. And lastly, Danny, I think your research and computer skills might come in handy for what is going on.
“Seriously, what is going on Stilinski?” Lydia interrogates, her usual icy demeanor present. “Just because we’re lab partners in AP Biology doesn’t make us friends. Although I do applaud your analysis of my brilliance.”
“Yeah, no offense, but we’re not really the best of friends,” Danny admits, rubbing his neck nervously. “I mean, if you need my help, I’ll be glad to do so, but this seems oddly… personal.”
“Look, something’s been happening to me lately,” Stiles begins, staring at their confused faces. “I’ve felt stronger, faster, way less clumsy ever since… ever since I got bit by a wolf in the woods. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I know I’ve seen enough superhero and fantasy movies to know that something changed me after that bite. Like Spiderman or… or…”
“A werewolf?” Danny scoffs, glancing at Scott and Lydia and offering a smirk that showed off his dimples. “I mean, you’re no Jacob Black man.”
“You have seemed to injure yourself far less recently,” Lydia says thoughtfully. “And Jackson did mention that you were, and I quote, ‘not nearly as much of a worthless lacrosse player as usual.’”
“Exactly! And that’s not even going into the other Stuff me and Scott have experienced,” Stiles adds, gesturing to his best friend.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know about the other stuff,” Scott confides when the others look at him expectantly.
“So then what do you want us to do then?” Danny inquires, pulling out his computer and cracking his knuckles.
“I want you to look up everything you can about wolf bites, lycanthropy and transferable diseases between animals and humans,” Stiles replies, a pleading look in his eyes.
“Oh fine, I suppose I could work it into my schedule, maybe even use it for my research paper for class,” Lydia remarks, twirling her fingers in her hair.
**********
A week of late night research and frenzied e-mail chains later and the four are in the school boiler room afterhours. Dusk has come on the night of the full moon, as the teens hurriedly try to secure Stiles for the night, near the boiler room.
“I think we should have listened to Allison’s dad,” Scott blurts out, breaking the anxious silence between them.
“That guy’s a weirdo,” Stiles shoots back. “He tried to tell me his father was the one who bit me! Remember that? Then he rushed off before trying to get me to meet him at some creepy as shit abandoned firetrap in the woods.”
“And that’s somehow crazier than thinking you’ve contracted lycanthropy?” Lydia retorts, contempt evident.
“Hey, I didn’t say I actually was a wolf, or even a werewolf, just that I was worried about it. Besides, you were the one who compiled the list of signs for the disease, in which I met each qualifier,” Stiles barks back, an edge creeping into his voice.
With this outburst, the group returns to their silent preparations, eventually shackling Stiles to some pipes.
“Ok, I have the camera set up,” Danny proclaims proudly, his tan skin catching the light from the single window in the room.
“Shoot!” Scott mutters, looking despairingly at his phone. “My mom just texted, her car broke down. She needs me to come pick her up. I’m sorry bro.”
“No, it’s fine, I’m probably not turning into a movie monster or anything, go ahead and leave your best friend,” Stiles responds, his words dripping with sarcasm.
“Thanks bro, I knew you’d understand!” Scott beams, waving to the others as he sprints off, slamming the door behind him.
“Is… is he really that oblivious?” Lydia asks, incredulous.
“Yes, unfortunately he is,” Stiles groans.
Then the groan turns louder, a droning moan. Danny double checks the camera while Lydia goes to the door, wanting to avoid the noise.
“Danny, the door is stuck,” Lydia comments, turning to her friend.
“How? It was fine when we came in and out earlier,” Danny replies, fiddling with the tripod aimed at Stiles.
“Stupid freaking Scott!” Stiles barks, clearly in pain. “Must have, must have slammed it too hard now it’s, now, now, NoooOOOOWWWAAARGHHHUUU!!!”
Lydia and Danny both recoil, fear slowly building. Their eyes flicker between the jammed door, their writhing and screaming friend, and the moonlight streaming into the room through the lone, high window.
“Lydia, I think this was a mistake,” Danny whispers, grabbing her arm. “We need to get out of here, now!”
Danny runs to the door, yanking and pulling with all his strength. Despite his well-defined arms and toned abs, the door doesn’t budge. The teens concentrate, both pulling with all their might, but to no avail. All the while screaming, tons of screaming echoing around the room. The sounds emanating from the by now hoarse throat of Stiles.
Then it stops.
The pair slowly turn around, their eyes locked on the visage before them. There, chained up and looking angrier than they’ve ever seen, is Stiles. He stands calmly, an eerie stoicism he never had, shrouded in darkness save for the trickle of moonlight lighting his face. His hairy, lupine face. His eyes are a dazzling gold, and his mouth is bent into a terrifying grimace, low snarls rumbling through his chest.
They turn back, pounding and screaming, hoping someone will hear them, come to their aid. A rustling noise comes from behind them, Stiles wrestling with his chains. Their pleas are more frantic, they beat the door until their hands are bleeding, skin rubbed raw and cracked. Their own voices now weak and cracking.
They can’t even react when he lashes out, taking down Danny first.
“Danny!” Lydia screams, jumping on Stiles’ back and trying to pull him off of her friend.
Stiles’ new form easily swats her away, her body making a loud thump as it crashes into a wall. Danny manages to wiggle out of his grasp for a moment, standing up and trying to get around him to Lydia. When Stiles hears Lydia stand, readying for another assault on him, he whirls, claws sinking into supple flesh. Lydia stills, the last shreds of her calm and cold personality shattering as her eyes well with tears. She knows she is going to die, and at the hand of a stupid freaking werewolf. Lydia Martin, teenage genius, future recipient of the Fields metal, and she dies to a mythical creature.
“No!” Danny screams, dashing towards Stiles from behind. “I won’t let you huUUeerrrEERRRRKK”
Danny gurgles obscenely, blood sputtering out of his mouth and his neck. He clutches at his neck, knowing he’s a goner, nothing can save him. He’d been killed by a freaking werewolf. Danny Mahealani, tech wiz and reformed hacker, taken down by a scrawny comic book nerd turned creature of the night. He falls back, first on his ass and then completely to the floor. At the same time, Stiles’ claws dislodge from Lydia’s stomach, she falls to her knees before collapsing against the wall.
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“Stiles! Look what you’ve done!” Chris screams, unsure whether the boy he’s talking to is even aware of him besides the Alpha commands to obey that he’s been given. “I told you I could help you, that I knew what it was like. My father did this to you, that’s true. But look what you’ve done to them.”
Stiles is unresponsive, huddled in the corner. Chris walks forward, the young werewolf inching further into the wall as he approaches. When he reaches him, he focuses all his werewolf strength into a knockout punch.