Stiles knew immediately that there was something wrong when his cell phone rang in the middle of the night. There was always something wrong when this happened and it happened way too often. His first thought was that it had to be Lydia who had found another body and he tried to free himself from his blanket enough to answer the phone. He always got completely entangled, probably because he dreamed too vividly. The ringing seemed to become more pervasive and impatient and Stiles reached for his phone with one arm, successfully sweeping it off his nightstand.

"Damn," he whispered and threw the blanket off. He rolled out of bed and landed on the floor next to the phone, bumping his knee in the process. Struggling to press the right button on the phone while still half asleep, he asked himself why exactly people were always calling him if they needed help at night. Everyone knew he wasn't fully functioning when he was tired.

"Huh?" He finally asked into the phone.

"Stiles, it's me", Scott said, his voice almost breaking.

Stiles was immediately wide awake. It was clear that Scott was in trouble from the way he sounded and Stiles knew him well enough not to need more than those few words to understand he was in severe pain. "Scott! What's wrong?" he asked. And then the more important question: "Where are you?"

"At – at the old warehouses out of town", Scott sounded as if he was talking through clenched teeth, his voice strained. "You – you kow?"

"Scott! That damn area is about a square mile at least! Can you be more specific?" Stiles had already gotten up from the floor and was struggling to get into his Levi's which was almost impossible with just one hand.

"No. I don't know."

Stiles tried not to panic. "Look around, Scott, what do you see?"

"Walls", Scott managed to say. "Just walls. You need to find me Stiles. I know you will. You can't call the others. Not this time."

"Why?"

"Long story." Scott groaned. Yes, he was badly hurt. And why in hell was he obviously not healing?

"Scott how am I supposed to find you if I don't have Liam or Malia to sniff you out and you have next to no idea where you are?"

"You'll find a way. Always do."

Stiles closed his eyes for a second and tried to concentrate. "Graffiti!" he finally said. "All the walls are covered. What do you see?"

There was no answer.

"Scott! Come on!"

"Destiny." It was barely understandable.

"Okay, I think I remember where that is. Been to an illegal party there once with Malia. I'll be there in a few minutes. Just don't move and don't fall asleep!"

There was no answer from Scott and Stiles decided not to waste any more time screaming at him. He dressed with lightning speed and didn't care that he had his hoodie on backwards when he almost fell down the stairs. As always when he really needed it, Roscoe nearly gave him a heart-attack when it didn't start on the first two tries but then he was off. It was lucky he wasn't stopped for speeding, because he broke every limit there was.

When he was approaching the old warehouses he remembered that he had no idea if danger was still lurking there and decided to be careful just in case. Whatever had hurt Scott so badly would probably not hesitate to have Stiles for breakfast after all. He turned down the lights of the jeep and parked about two hundred metres away from where he hoped he'd find Scott right between a small group of trees and a stonewall. It wasn't much of a camouflage for the car but it would have to do. He took the baseball bat from the backseat and closed the door. Then he opened it again and also took the screw driver. Best to be safe. He just wished Malia was with him. Or Liam at least. Hayden would be good…

He tried to move quietly and stay out of sight when he entered the warehouse area, but he also tried to be fast, because he was extremely worried about Scott now. Luckily there was some light from the half moon and a few flickering streetlamps that were leftovers from the time the warehouse hwas still used. The wall that had the graffiti "Destiny" written all over it belonged to an old depot and was in a state of decay, like the whole area. Stiles was more than relieved that he'd remembered correctly where to find it. He forgot all caution and just ran over, avoiding piles of rubble and debris.

What he saw made him stop short.

There was blood all over the wall. Really, it wasn't possible that all of this had come from just one person. It looked as if something – or someone – had been slaughtered here. There was enough blood to paint another graffiti over the first. It cost him all he had not to keel over. He felt sick to his stomach. And what he saw when he looked down was worse. Scott was sprawled out on the floor, writhing in pain, his arm stretched out in an impossible ankle next to his body. His shirt was torn open and there was a wound in his torso that looked as if someone had tried to rip his intestines out. Which was probably the case.

In the back of his head Stiles knew that his normal reaction to a sight like this was just to pass out for good and he felt light-headed for a second but then he was next to Scott, scrambling to get out of his hoodie and pressing it down on the wound. Impossible to stop the bleeding like this but he had to try. Scott keened and tried to get away from him but he could hardly move. The metallic smell of blood was almost unbearable and Stiles heard a ringing in his ears that made it almost impossible to think clearly. But he had to. There was no one else here to help Scott.

Scott's chest was heaving and Stiles could see that he had difficulty breathing. His eyes were wide with pain but vacant, there were beads of sweat on his forehead and his face was scrunched up in a grimace of pain.

"Scott!" he called, pressing down on the wound. "Come on! You need to heal!"

Scott's chapped lips moved but there was no sound. He was writhing in pain, still trying to get away. Stiles was sure he didn't even know he was here. There had to be something he could do. Scott needed to start healing. He was losing too much blood. Stiles' hoodie was already drenched and Scott's movements were becoming slower and more erratic. Stiles was starting to feel desperate, panic threatening to take hold. He had to think fast. He needed to get Scott out of here, but he was afraid to move him. He didn't dare call Malia, when Scott had asked him not to. But that might be their only chance. His thoughts were reeling.

And suddenly he was thrown back to another situation similar to this. After the Beast of Gevaudan had attacked the school, he had helped Hayden carry Liam into one of the classrooms and Liam had been too badly hurt to heal. And then Hayden had –

Stiles leaned forward without hesitating and kissed Scott on the lips. He tasted blood and something salty and for a moment he thought that it wasn't working at all but then Scott breathed in deeply and Stiles could feel his body relaxing a little underneath him. "Oh thank god", he thought. He brought up one hand to Scott's cheek and kissed him again, daring to carefully lick his lips this time.

In the back of his head he knew it should feel kind of weird to kiss his best friend. But it didn't, not at all and it was clear that it helped, because Scott's breathing became steadier and he finally stopped writhing.

Stiles sat up, pushed back Scott's hair from his sweaty forehead and watched him intently. He could see Scott's jaws working and his body tensed once again but then he opened his eyes, this time really looking at Stiles. "Thank you" he whispered, barely audible.

"Did it work?" Stiles was totally amazed. "Oh my god, did that actually help?"

"Yes", Scott closed his eyes and Stiles could see him swallow. "Glad you came."

"Yeah, you should be!" Stiles said. "I have not the slightest, tiniest idea what you're doing out here all on your own getting ripped apart, you know? Aren't you supposed to have a pack or something?" He waited for a second but Scott just blinked at him once. "Scott, there are people who are willing to fight for you. You don't have to do this stuff on your own. You were nearly killed here!" He looked at Scott incredulously. "To death!"

"I know", Scott winced. "Can we talk about this later, Stiles? It hurts."

"Oh man, it looks so bad", Stiles said shuddering. "I really don't know why I'm still conscious. We need to get you out of here."

Scott nodded.

"Do you think you can stand?"

"I'm not sure."

Stiles managed to pull Scott up from the ground somehow and it took all of his strength to help him over to the car. He was drenched in sweat when Scott finally fell into the passenger seat.

Stiles looked at him worriedly. Scott was still pale as a sheet and his breathing was still heavy. "Should I drive you to Deaton?" he asked.

Scott shook his head. "I'm healing. I'll be alright after a night's sleep."

"Is your mom home?"

"No. Night shift."

"Then I'm taking you with me. You can sleep over. There's no way I'm leaving you alone like this."

Stiles got in the driver's seat and started the car. He kept throwing glances at Scott who was huddled up in the seat next to him, his head leaning against the window. "So what happened?" he asked.

"I was set up." Scott swallowed. "There was another Alpha. Said she wanted to fight me for my pack. It's not unusual, as Derek once told me. She proposed not getting anyone else involved. Just the two of us."

"You agreed and she brought her whole pack?" Stiles asked, sighing heavily. "Will you ever learn, Scott?"

"She seemed sincere."

"Scott, the devil seems sincere to you."

"I won anyway." Scott looked over and there was a tiny smile on his face.

"Yeah, you look like a total winner."

"It's true. I managed to drive them away before I broke down. They'll leave my pack alone."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Couldn't you at least have brought me as your second? I must say this was rather stupid, Scott. They could have easily killed you. Please stop being so self-sacrificing. I'd rather have you alive than heroic."

"Just wanted to allow you all some peace."

"And didn't you want me to call the others now that the duel is over?"

"I don't want them to know. They'd want revenge and the fight is over. Malia is difficult enough to control as it is."

"I don't like his, Scott. You going off all on your own. It's too dangerous."

Scott put a hand on Stiles' knee. "Thanks for worrying about me."

Stiles swallowed. "Promise you'll call me next time?"

"Promise."

Getting Scott from the car to the house was easier. He didn't lean on Stiles quite so heavily anymore and managed the stairs quite well. He was still white when he was stretched out on Stiles' bed however.

"You're amazing", Scott said a few minutes later when Stiles was cleaning his wound with sterile cloth. "This isn't necessary, you know?"

"You may be a werewolf, but you're also my best friend", Stiles said rather stubbornly. "And if you get hurt, I'll fix you up." Without doubt he was whiter than Scott by now, however. The smell of the blood was really getting to him. He was glad that the wound was really healing by now. He was quite sure he wouldn't have been able to stitch it.

"There", he said. "All better. You can borrow one of my shirts tomorrow."

"Thank you", Scott said softly. "Stiles?"

"Hm?" Stiles took one of the bandages he had taken from their stash and opened it. "He looked up "What is it?"

"What you did –" Scott paused. "At the warehouse…"

"Oh", Stiles said. "You mean that." He felt his cheeks grow warm. "Yeah, what about it?"

"How'd you think of that?"

"Hayden once did it for Liam. When he was hurt." Stiles busied himself with the bandages. "And I figured …you know…" he hesitated. "Can you sit up? I want to put this on you."

"As I told you, it's not necessary."

"Don't care. Sit up."

Scott gave in. "So it was only because you thought it would help me heal?" he asked, avoiding Stiles' eyes.

Stiles' started to wrap the bandage around Scott's torso, his fingers softly toughing the light brown skin. "Of course", he said. "It was necessary. Like the time Lydia stopped my panic attack."

"So you wouldn't want to do it again?"

Stiles pulled his hands away from Scott as if he had been burned. He looked at Scott and Scott looked back at him, completely sincere, his eyes shining in the half darkness of the room.

"Of course not", he whispered.

"Never again?" Scott asked.

"No." Stiles felt his knees go weak and the next moment Scott was kissing him and while the kiss at the warehouse hadn't felt weird, this one was absolutely breathtaking. It was hot and deep and full of want and Stiles heard himself moan into it. Never had he dared to hope that anyone would want to kiss him like this. And certainly not Scott who had only ever been into girls. But this didn't feel as if he was only into girls, because he was pulling Stiles closer now, one arm around him, his hand on the back of Stiles' head. Somehow Stiles ended up on top of Scott and he was so afraid to hurt him that he finally pulled away.

"What was that?" he asked, still out of breath. "What the hell was that, Scott?"

Scott looked as shaken as Stiles felt, his cheeks adorably pink, his lips swollen. "I – I just wanted to know –"

"Know what?"

"If it always feels so good to kiss you."

"Doest it?" Stiles asked.

"Yes", Scott said, looking at him completely bewildered. "It does. Felt even better this time."

"Oh wow", Stiles said. "I didn't expect that."

"Me neither."

"Told you we should have tried making out!"

A tiny smile tugged at Scott's lips. "Yeah, maybe you were right." He stretched out one arm and pulled Stiles down next to him. "Can we do it again?"