Chapter One - There Better Be A Dead Body
Little Red Riding Hood,
I don't think little big girls should,
Go walking in these spooky old woods,
Alone
-Little Red Riding Hood/Amanda Seyfried
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or Buffy The Vampire Slayer, nor do I earn any form of profit from this work of fiction
Beacon Hills had nothing on Sunnydale.
I'd been here for all of a week now and there hadn't been a single vampire lurking in the alleys or lounging in the cemetery. Not that I ever understood the whole 'crypt' thing, it's like dude you're immortal – get into real estate. I get that cobwebs and crumbling stone lend themselves to the creepy aesthetic, but if I were to be faced with the possibility of eternity I would at least demand carpet, high water-pressure, and wifi.
A girl has needs after all. Even ones that have a Divine Calling for a short-lived life of violence and trying to get blood out of their clothes.
Into every generation there is born the Slayer – except for when the Slayer with a capital 'S' decides she's lonely and instead Calls all of us. All 3000 of us.
The Chosen – ha! Unfortunate, more like.
She alone has the strength and skill – not to mention utter lack of common sense to go along with the lunacy that is the slayer lifestyle – to fight the vampires, demons, and forces of darkness. To stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers – also, their terrible fashion sense.
If I were to be completely honest, it wasn't even the slaying that I hated, it was the events that led to me becoming one. It's a bit difficult to be jazzed about gaining superpowers when you become an orphan in the process. I knew I wasn't the only one, there were plenty of girls that had been spirited away from similar situations seeking the protection that only the OG Slayer could provide. Turns out though that even she wasn't infallible.
Which, in retrospect, was entirely understandable. She hadn't been a general, she had been a soldier, and suddenly she was in charge of a group of scared disrespectful teenage girls. And then she had to deal with power-struggles from within her own group of trusted friends. To be honest though, seeing her like that, seeing her human, made me respect Buffy Summers more than any fancy fighting move or battle plan ever could have.
It was why I had followed her once the battle with The First was over and Sunnydale was just a crater in the ground, instead of running off like I had originally planned. Buffy showed me that bravery wasn't being fearless, it was being scared and making the decision to do something about it. Like comforting a fifteen-year-old girl who had lost her entire family by teaching her to be strong. By channeling her anger into something productive. By showing her that she could use her loss as the driving force to make sure that she never allowed anyone else to feel the same way she did.
And to apparently refer to herself in the third-person when talking to herself. Myself. Ugh.
It was why I hadn't fought when I received my orders to relocate back to California. Honestly, I was actually a little over-joyed to be back home after the 3 months of Basic Training at HQ. Don't get me wrong – Scotland was gorgeous. All rolling moors and morning fog straight out of a Bronte book. But it was just so...green.
I was used to steel and concrete, shades of gray and gold and red and blue. I had been a San Francisco girl before us Potentials had started being knocked off like a mafia hit list and I was heading down the coast in the passenger seat of a yellow mini with my Watcher and blood still warm on my hands. The fact that the blood hadn't been mine made the situation worse, not better.
My phone suddenly started ringing to the tune of the Spiderman theme and shocked me out of my pity-party for one. Darting my eyes around, I found myself still utterly alone in the woods I'd been traipsing through for the past half-an-hour since abandoning my post on Alfred Wilkinsons tombstone – great friend, excellent husband – where I'd been occupying my time with sharpening stakes. So that they weren't blunt if a vampire ever decided to show up. With the size of the Beacon Hills Preserve – seriously, the town was like 70% woodlands – I was wondering if all the vamps here were out-doorsy health-nuts that preyed exclusively on late night hikers. After that drag-queen bumpy-face I'd been forced into dusting in a WallMart car-park my mind was firmly open when it came to life-styles of the undead and the soul-less.
Fishing my phone out of my jacket pocket I grinned to myself when I saw the name flashing on the screen.
"Wow, I'm worth the cost of a call from Scotland – I'm flattered."
"Nah, I'm calling you collect," A chirpy voice laughed at my sarcastic drawl. "How's California? Is it sunny? I miss sunny."
"Well, seeing as it's almost ten at night I would have to go with a resounding – not very sunny," I answered, unable to keep the smile out of my voice so my sarcasm kind of lost its edge. "So, why are you calling Dawnie? Miss me already? It's only been a week."
"Haha Freddie," The inflection in her voice when she called me 'Freddie' conveying how much she didn't appreciate the nickname everyone kept calling her. "And maybe I do, ever think of that? No, betcha didn't. Just shows that I'm a better friend than you are!"
I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn't see me, and stopped moving to lean against the trunk of a tree drawing patterns in the dirt with the toe of my boot. Dawn was Buffy's younger sister who was only slightly older than me, and we'd bonded during the time I had spent with her in Sunnydale and then HQ. I'd go so far as to call her my best-friend. Even though she wasn't a slayer, she had taught me just as much as Buffy and the others had.
"If you were the better friend, you'd be here as my Watcher instead of Kevin!" I couldn't quite keep the whining tone out of my voice.
"Yeah, cos there's nothing weird about two sixteen year old girls living together without any form of adult supervision," Dawn replied. "Besides, what's wrong with Kevin? Aside from being very British, of course, he's also kinda a babe. You should be used to it by now, anyway."
"Firstly, ew," I told her, the idea of Kevin being sexually attractive giving me a major case of the icks. "Nothing, I guess," I then admitted grudgingly. And she was right, I'd known Kevin since I was about 12 and the Watchers Council had first sent him to groom me as a Potential Slayer. "Though I think he's going to single-handedly be to blame for the Great Tea Shortage of 2011 – he drinks the stuff like it's water!"
Dawns responding giggle was loud enough that I had to hold the phone away from my ear until she calmed down.
Dawn Summers was without a doubt one of the most exuberant people I'd ever met. And despite the events of the past year of her life she had somehow managed to hold onto her child-like capacity for trust. Something she was trying to encourage me to do also.
"Well...what about boys?" Dawn asked in a tone she probably thought was sly, but in reality came across as eager.
"Boys?" I deadpanned, though the smile on my face that she was thankfully unable to see betrayed my amusement. "I'm here to fulfill my Divine Calling and you're asking about boys?"
"Yes!" She squealed back, forcing me to move the phone to the side once again until she calmed down. "If I'm stuck at Hogwarts School For Girls for who knows how much longer, then I'm gonna live vicariously through you gosh-darnit!"
"Well, be prepared to be vicariously disappointed," I told her with a self-deprecating snort. "The only boy I've run into so far thinks I'm some closet-goth with a cemetery kink."
I felt myself blushing as I recalled the incident four nights ago:
I was sitting atop a grave-stone – as per usual since I wasn't allowed to bring folding-chairs on patrol, apparently – kicking my feet out as I read a worn paper-back copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.
"Ah, Lizzie Bennet,"I said aloud. "You're a girl after my own heart."
"I-is s-someone there?"A male voice stammered uncertainly into the dark.
Startled, I found myself slipping backwards off of the grave-stone, my book and phone flying up into the air as I struggled to correct myself.
The owner of the voice arrived just in time to find me scrunched behind the slab of marble with my feet in the air as my phone landed on my chest and the book on my head. Looking up from my position on the grass it was easy to tell – even upside down – that he was well on his way to becoming a looker once puberty was through with him. He was talland lanky still, but curly ash-blond hair and a jaw you could cut glass on would definitely give a girl the warm and tinglies some day soon.
I tipped the book on my head as though it were a hat and grinned sheepishly up at him, "Uh, greetings from the ground?"
His expression of shock quickly melted into one of concern and he almost tripped over his feet in his haste to help me up. I bit back a laugh as I grasped his offered hand and awkwardly untangled myself, letting him pull me to my feet a moment later.
"Thanks," I said, rubbing the spot on my sternum where my phone had decided to pile-drive into me, at least I wouldn't have to worry about a cleavage-bruise thanks to my handy-dandy Slayer healing.
"What – uh – what are you doing out here?" He asked, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with one hand while shoving the other into his jeans pocket.
"I could ask you the same question?"I shot back, hoping to catch him off-guard and gain a little insight into what kind of excuse I could make up on the fly.
"I work here,"He replied bemusedly, folding his arms across his chest.
Well dammit. There goes that option.
"I should probably ask you a different question...I was...uh..." I chewed on my lip while frantically trying to come up with a reason that didn't make me seem like a complete weirdo. I glanced behind me at the grave-stone and blurted, "Visiting my grandfather!" Sure – it seemed plausible even if it was nearing 9pm on a Thursday night.
I beamed up at him – seriously, I reached his shoulder – proud of my totally believable explanation.
"Cassandra Sinclair, died age 40, 2009," the boy read off of the slab of stone behind me with his eyebrows raised questioningly.
Laughing nervously I managed to not stumble over my words too badly, "Yeah! My-uh-family has a history of...teen pregnancy? And he-err-preferred to be called 'Cameron'..."I looked at the expression on his face, baby-blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "...and you're not buying any of this, are you?"
He shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking upward in amusement, "Not one bit. Um, it was an interesting direction though?"
"Ah well, it was worth a shot,"I said in defeat as I bent down to shove my book and phone in my messenger-bag. Standing I threw my hands up dramatically, "You caught me! I like reading in grave-yards."
His eyes ran over me from head to toe, taking in my shaggy blonde lob, expertly made up blue eyes and lip-glossed lips, blue romper, denim jacket, and floral Keds with thigh-high socks. Yeah, I wouldn't really buy me as a death-fetishist either. Maybe all that was left was the truth? I mean, he would most definitely think I was one Iron Man short of The Avengers, but he'd probably leave me alone. Possibly. Hopefully. Even if he was kinda cute.
"Okay," I started, exhaling heavily. "Truth is...I'm hunting vampires."
He stared at me for a long nail-biting moment before bursting into laughter, the unexpected sound making me jump – though I'd deny it if anyone ever asked.
"I'm Isaac,"He offered, grinning widely.
"Fred,"I replied with a triumphant smile, aggressively fist-bumping and hip-thrusting on the inside. When in doubt – use the truth. Who was crazy enough to believe a flippant comment about vampire hunting?
Answer: Nobody.
"Fred?"Isaac repeated, again taking in my decidedly nottom-boy appearance.
"Yup,"I answered, popping the 'p' and refusing to offer any explanation about my name whatsoever. "Well Isaac, it's been real swell, but I should get home. Who knows what roams the streets of Beacon Hills after dark?"I teased.
He managed to cover up his look of disappointment fairly impressively as he quipped, "Like vampires – right?"
"Exactly!" I wiggled my fingers over my shoulder as I walked off, reminding myself to be more alert tomorrow night on patrol to avoid another awkward confrontation. And more poorly constructed lies. Honestly, a 40-year-old trans-gender grandfather – pathetic.
Thank god I hadn't had Mr Pointy out. Or worse – Lord Stabbington III. Or even Chewy.
It was always hard to explain away a crossbow.
"Is he a closet-goth with a cemetery-kink?" Dawn asked, obviously not in the mood let me avoid the subject. "If he's cute enough – it could be worth it! Buffy once dated one of those. He was all into gloomy Edgar Allan Poe, death is inevitable, Emily Dickinson poetry-type stuff. And then she had to save him from being a Happy Meal on legs when he got his stalker on and followed them to the funeral home where some redneck Jesus-freak bumpy-face was lurking."
"Has your sister ever had a normal relationship in her life?" I couldn't help but ask after I was finished chuckling.
"Weeeeell, there was Riley I suppose...then again he went all Mega-Super-Soldier and got addicted to vamp-bites so maybe not," Dawn mused. "But anyway, you're not Buffy! Just cos you're both blonde midgets doesn't mean that you're doomed to follow in her relationship footsteps. You are so not doomed, you are like the complete opposite of doomed. Doomed is off hiding somewhere because you are so not it."
"Dawn," I interrupted, "Stop saying 'doomed'. Seriously."
"Doom, doom, doom, doomity doom!" She began singing in a high-pitched voice.
"Okay!" I all but shouted into the phone. "He was sorta, kinda, on the side of cute."
"Name."
"Isaac," Knowing what was coming next I added, "Super tall, blue eyes, curly blond hair, and erring on the side of skinny."
"Did you get his blood type and Social Security Number too?"
I went to reply when my phone started beeping at me. Pulling it away from my ear I made a noise of frustration when I saw Kevin trying to get ahold of me.
"I've gotta book," I told Dawn, not bothering to hide the cocktail of annoyance and disappointment in my voice. "The most British man to ever British beckons."
"Maybe he needs you to pick up more Earl Grey on the way home?" She suggested with a laugh.
"Knowing my luck, that's probably it. I'll skype you later," I continued, ignoring the beeping in the background as my Watcher tried his hardest to get make contact. I could imagine him sitting there in his pin-striped suit sipping tea and muttering the same weird cuss words that Spike had used. It kinda made me want to draw it out and make him wait. It wasn't that I hated him – on the contrary, I'd come to view him as someone I knew I could count on. I was just being what every teenage girl could be when she felt that she had been cheated out of something – a bitch.
"Looking forward to it! Watch yourself, Fred!"
"You too. Miss your face!" I ended the call and switched to Kevin as he called back a second time.
"There better be a dead body!" I sang into the phone, barely hiding the irritation in my voice.
"What about half of a dead body?"
"Watcher say what?" I was stunned, that was most definitely not the response I'd been expecting for my smart remark.
"Yep. The local authorities have located one half and are currently in the woods doing their very best to find the other half – while unfortunate its also exciting isn't it? The current theory is –"
"– animal attack," I finished for him. "That doesn't sound overly vampy though – does it?"
"Hemicorporectomy isn't common in vampire attacks, you're right. But that doesn't mean it couldn't still be supernatural in nature. If possible, get me a photo for research, yeah?"
"Selfies with either heads or tails? Sure thing Q," I quipped.
"Good luck, Bond,"
I gasped, "Oh my Gods! Did you just make a joke? How much tea have you had today? Count backwards from 50 super quick."
"No," He replied with a chuckle. "Stay safe, love."
"You know me – if I were any safer I'd be hidden in a cave surrounded by bubble-wrap," I joked before ending the call, tucking the phone back in my leather jacket after flicking it firmly onto silent.
Okay, if I were feeling a little airy around my navel, where would I be?
Breaking into a brisk jog I started back towards the main entrance to the preserve, my plan being to listen-in on the cops and find out what they knew first. The preserve was far too large for me to be running around blind. And while slayers were able to function on a minimal amount of sleep, tomorrow was my first day at high-school since my first semester of Freshman year. I was wanting to be all about the good impressions – not being the girl that looked like an extra from The Walking Dead.
I was 99.9% sure it wasn't a vampire. They weren't really into dismemberment unless it was ritualistic, and even then they weren't afraid to leave a trail of blood-less bodies behind them. The smart ones tended to remove their victims teeth and light them on fire – not go all Jigsaw on them and ask if they wanted to play a game.
As caught up in my thoughts as I was, I didn't realise I wasn't alone until it smacked me in the face.
No, seriously, I plowed face-first into someones chest.
Long fingers curled around my arms to steady me a moment too late and I quickly found myself sprawled across a thin hard chest. Resting my chin on his sternum I looked up into wide dark eyes staring down at me in shock, his heart beating rapidly enough that I could feel the vibrations through his T-Shirt. Long lashes swept down as he blinked at me, completely frozen.
"I can see up your nose," I said stupidly before jolting into action as I felt him tense beneath me and his heart went into over-time. Oh sweet merciful Zeus, I was going to give him a heart-attack. A teenage boy was going to drop dead of a heart-attack because of me. "Oh my Gods, I'm so sorry!" I rapidly apologised as I scrambled to get off of him. Leaves crunched beneath my hands as I dug my fingers into the dirt on either side of him and propelled myself backwards like some strange acrobatic push-up. I stumbled once upright and spread my feet slightly to balance myself, breathing deep and noisily blowing my bangs out of my eyes.
As I straightened from wiping away the leaves and dirt clinging to my black stockings I found the boy I'd knocked over still prone on the forest floor staring up at me.
I hadn't hit him that hard, had I? It wasn't like I'd been sprinting at full Slayer speed. Unless...oh no, maybe he'd hit his head? Maybe he had a concussion? Maybe he was now paralyzed because I was the most unobservant Slayer to ever observe?
Okay Fred. Chill. Stop saying maybe and just check if he's alright.
I moved towards his head, wide eyes following my every move, fluttering my hands around uselessly as I tentatively asked, "Are you okay? Like, can you move? I'm so sorry. Like, beyond sorry. I'm in a whole other realm of sorry right now."
"Stiles!" A voice called breathlessly from behind us and a beam of light swept haphazardly across us. "Next time you want to hunt for dead bodies, you're on your own!"
I looked over my shoulder in the direction of the voice and flashlight and then back down at the boy at my feet. Maintaining awkward eye-contact it wasn't until the voice behind me let out an exasperated "Dude!" that the boy seemed to jolt out of whatever daze he was in and started to flail about in what I assumed was an effort to get vertical.
There was the distinct sound of an inhaler being shaken before Flashlight-Guy took a puff and breathlessly demanded now that he was close enough to see his friend, "Bro, what the Hell? How much Adderall did you take to make it seem like a good idea to make the severe asthmatic sprint behind you up a hill?"
Once he had finished what I thought was an absolutely acceptable out-burst, he seemed to realise that his friend – Stiles? Weird name, but I couldn't really judge I guess – wasn't exactly alone. "Uh, hi?" His voice was thick with confusion as he glanced between the two of us.
It were as though his acknowledgment of my existence was an electric shock with the speed Stiles and I sprang apart. Both of us had matching expressions of guilt plastered over our faces, though most definitely for different reasons. I was just relieved to see he was walking and hoped that his twitchiness was caused by his apparent ADHD and not trauma-induced muscle-spasms.
I nervously tugged on the hem of my shorts, wondering if the two boys would notice if I slipped away. Probably not. Possibly. Maybe. More than likely, with the way they were both now staring at me.
Okay Fred, act cool. They look your age, they probably go to Beacon Hills High too so don't wig out. Neither of them are hiding the bumpies, just two admittedly weird human boys running around the woods at night. Be a better liar than you were with Isaac. Time to work on your lie ability so it's not a liability – hah! Wait, they're still staring – focus!
"Hi," I said in a clear firm voice, smiling brightly at the confused boy before me who had finally managed to control his breathing. In the light cast by the flashlight I could make out shaggy dark hair that fell into dark eyes, straight white teeth flashed brightly against tanned skin and his jaw was slightly crooked. The way he hunched into his hoodie made him seem smaller than he was, but I could tell he would be almost a foot taller than me. There must be something in the water in this town that produced tall males, since Isaac had been well over a foot taller than me and now that he was upright I could see that Stiles was probably only a bit taller than his friend. It was like the PTB wanted me to go to constant physio for neck pain caused by having to constantly look up.
"Hi," He repeated, scrunching his eyebrows together. "Uh Stiles?"
"Yeah buddy?" His reply sounded as though it were more an automatic response to the sound of his name than a coherent answer as he continued to stare at me, eyes now narrowed as though I were a puzzle he was trying to figure out.
"Who, uh, who's your friend?"
My eyebrows twitched at the word 'friend', but I made sure to keep my smile firmly in place. Because I was sweet and small and I didn't need them knowing I was capable of snapping them like a twig if I felt so inclined. No siree, nothing weird about this 5-foot-nothing slip of a girl hanging out in the woods at night. Actually, maybe I should be more suspicious of the two of them? What teenage boys hang out in the woods after dark the night before the first day of school? That being said, I'd spent the last 6 months surrounded by teenage girls, Xander, Andrew, and Giles – what do I know about teenage boys?
"M-my friend?" Stiles stammered, finally looking at his friend blankly before realisation dawned on his pale face – naturally pale, by the looks, as red blotches rose to the surface of his prominent cheekbones. He was switching between staring at me and his friend so rapidly that I was legitimately concerned he was gonna give himself whiplash. "Uh, yes! My-my-my...friend? Um-uh-yup. Scott, this is...?" He trailed off, staring at me expectantly with his hands still raised from where they'd been waving around erratically.
Wow. I thought I could ramble.
"Fred," I supplied helpfully, wiggling my fingers in Scotts direction.
"Yes!" Stiles all but shouted. "This is Fred! Wait – Fred?" He had stopped nodding his head and was now staring at me with his eyebrows raised questioningly. He was so expressive it was exhausting just watching him.
"Yes – Fred."
"Just Fred?"
"Just Fred." I confirmed with a bob of my head, Scott eyeing the whole exchanged bemusedly from the corner of my eye.
"...short for?" He prodded.
"None of your business," I replied lightly with a quirk of my lips, folding my arms beneath my breasts.
What was it with the boys of Beacon Hills and my name? It wasn't that weird. It didn't have anything on 'Stiles', that was for sure. I bet the 'Billies' and 'Sams' of the world didn't undergo this level of scrutiny whenever they introduced themselves.
"Nice to meet you, Fred," Scott smiled genuinely at me before shooting Stiles a look I roughly translated as 'what the fuck bro?'.
"What are you doing out here, Fred?" Stiles asked me suspiciously, his stupor finally having passed, with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Late-night jogging," I offered with a nonchalant shrug. There! That's a believable lie if I'd ever heard one.
"Really?" Stiles asked as his eyes traveled up and down my body in a way that was less sexual and more skeptical. They paid particular attention to my black leather jacket, knee-high hunting boots, and mini-shorts.
I really needed to start dressing to match my lies.
"Really," I repeated. Why did every conversation with this kid feel like an interrogation? I wouldn't be surprised if his next move was to grab the flashlight off Scott and start shining it in my face. "I was jogging, remember? When I crashed into you? We landed, just over there?" I spoke slowly as I gestured to the disturbed ground next to us and pointedly eyed the dead leaves on his jacket. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head?"
"Don't you have school tomorrow?" He asked, ignoring my comment about his mental-state.
"Don't the two of you?" I shot back.
I was 5 minutes away from saying 'vampire hunting' and walking off. I didn't have time for this, there was half a dead body to find and knowing my luck the cops had probably already uncovered it. I was a slayer, Goddammit. Why did I need to justify myself to a nosey sixteen-year-old?
I heard the dogs and voices before the two of them. Seemed the cops had come to me. Handy.
I knew the moment the other two heard them because Scotts eyes went wide and he hurried to turn off the flashlight.
"Hide!" Stiles hissed, all annoyance with me gone as the search party got closer to where we were standing. "If they find us my dad will kill me!"
"Is someone afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?" I teased him, smirking at the way he narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips in irritation. I felt a hand curl around my wrist and spun around with my other hand raised before relaxing once I saw Scotts brown eyes staring down at me. I allowed him to tug me back down the hill he'd just finished climbing up moments before and didn't fight him when he pulled me down beside him behind a tree trunk. Gently pulling my arm from his grasp I made a soft sound of frustration as I felt a drop of rain land on my cheek and slide down off of my chin. Raising my hands I pulled the large hood of my thin red knit top over my head and huddled into my jacket, seeing Scott do the same next to me.
"Where's Stiles?" I whispered to him as loudly as I dared to, hoping he heard me.
Scott opened his mouth to answer when a dog barked loudly closer than we were comfortable with and a mans voice shouted out, "Stay right there!"
We stared at each other wide-eyed and frozen huddling closer in an attempt to make ourselves feel smaller. I didn't need to be caught by the police. I didn't need to give them a reason to try and find anything out about my past and I certainly didn't need that sort of reputation when I was going to be stuck in this town for however long. Buffy hadn't actually given me a specific end-date when I'd been shipped off to Beacon Hills.
"Hang on, hang on!" A different voice called out, this one filled with annoyance and resignation. "This little delinquent belongs to me."
Ah, so Stiles had been caught. By his father, no less. Or at least, I assumed it was his father based on the whole 'belonging' comment. I raised my eyebrows questioningly at Scott and he nodded with a pained expression on his face. Alright, the owner of the 'I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed' voice was Stiles' father, and I'm guessing we definitely didn't want him to catch us too.
"Dad, how're you doing?" Stiles asked with forced casualness.
"You, uh, listen in to all of my phonecalls?" Daddy Stiles asked wearily.
"No!" Stiles protested then after a pause admitted, "Not the boring ones."
"And where's your usual partner in crime?"
"Who? Scott?" Stiles spluttered. "Scott's home. Said he-he wanted to get a good nights sleep before school tomorrow. It's just me. In the woods. Alone."
I thought I had to work on my lie ability. Maybe Stiles and I could take lessons together at some sort of discount price?
"Scott, you out there?" Daddy Stiles called out, not dumb enough to believe his sons weak story.
Scott stiffened next to me with his eyes tightly closed and his hands fisted in his hoodie pockets. I placed a hand on his knee comfortingly, I had a feeling that Stiles' lie about him being at home was actually what he had been planning to do tonight until his friend had dragged him out for whatever reason. Well, judging by Daddy Stiles being a cop and Stiles listening into his phone-calls, it was very likely the two of them were out here for the same reason I was. Was this town that boring that it was more exciting than weird and/or scary to go hunting in the woods at night for half a corpse? What the Hell were they teaching these kids in school? Certainly not self-preservation.
"Scott!" After a minute of silence Daddy Stiles let out a disappointed sigh. "Well young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car and you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called 'invasion of privacy'."
At the pained noises that Stiles was making I chanced a look over my shoulder and bit my lip to stop from laughing as I saw his father marching him away by the back of his neck like a disobedient dog. Once they were far enough away I nudged Scott with my shoulder and stood up, brushing the wet mulch from the seat of my shorts.
"Was he your ride home" I asked him as we half slid-half walked down the hill.
"Yeah," He replied irritably before looking around him in an attempt to remember which direction led out of the woods and not further in.
"Exit's this way," I said with a smile and jabbed my thumb over my shoulder to indicate what direction I meant. "Coming?"
My priority was getting Scott safely out of the Preserve on the off-chance something big, bad, and supernatural was running around ripping people in half. I'd just have to double-back and hope that it took a while for them to find the body.
After walking in silence for a few minutes Scott asked, "I haven't seen you around before, are you new to town?"
"Yup," I told him. "My uncle and I moved here about a week ago now."
"Oh cool. Where did you move from?"
I paused, not too sure what to tell him. What had Kevin said our back-story was? He was my uncle and only living family – which uncomfortably enough wasn't far off the truth – and we had just gotten back from Scotland where I'd been on...exchange! I couldn't recall if I was allowed to mention San Francisco or Sunnydale at all though. Safer just to avoid the two of them until I had a chance to refresh with Kevin tonight before school tomorrow.
"Scotland," I smiled up at him. "I've been there on an exchange program for the past 3 months. Afterwards we felt like a fresh start and Beacon Hills seems to be it."
"Scotland? That's cool," He smiled back down at me, his breathing beginning to get a little labored. "What year are you?"
"Sophomore. You?"
He nodded, fishing around in his pocket for his inhaler. "Same. Let me or Stiles know if you have any trouble getting around, it's the least we can do for almost getting you caught by the cops in the middle of your...jog."
I laughed before stopping abruptly and tilting my head as the woods seemed to go unnaturally quiet except for the soft pitter-patter of rainfall. A creaking came from above us and I froze, scanning the surroundings while unconsciously dropping into a fighting stance.
"Uh, Fred?" Scott's voice was unsure and when I faced him it was easy to tell he was a little bit spooked. "You alright?"
"Fine," I chirped up at him with a smile. "Just thought I heard something." I grabbed his wrist and forced him to start walking faster, not liking the silence suddenly engulfing us. "Come on, we're almost there."
"That's-uh-quite a grip you've got there," He panted behind me. "Think we could slow down a second?"
I let him go with a start, not realizing that I had been expending a little slayer strength and speed. "Sorry," I apologized. "I'm just a little wigged out I guess."
"I hear you," He agreed before wheezing. Shaking up his inhaler he brought it to his lips and took a puff.
That was when the ground started shaking.
The sounds of a dozen hooves hitting the forest-floor was thunderous and seemed to echo from everywhere. When the first deer was within sight I tackled Scott to the ground and lay half over him, tucking my face into the side of his neck and hunching my shoulders, my arms thrown over his face. If I managed to get clipped in the back of the head, I'd eventually be fine. Maybe. I think. I wasn't quite clear when it came to head injuries. But I was definitely certain that Scott wouldn't even have the possibility of being okay that I had with slayer healing.
Once the last of the deer had run off I pushed myself up and off of Scott, rising to my feet in one fluid motion. "You okay?" I asked as I bent at the waist with a hand thrust out towards him.
He nodded affirmatively, eyes wide, and grasped my hand allowing me to tug him to his feet. He let out a breath of surprise at how hard I pulled but didn't comment on it, instead frantically patting his pockets and saying, "My inhalers gone!"
Grabbing the flashlight from where he'd dropped it I tried turning it on only for it to flicker weakly before going out. "Great," I sighed. "Can you last without it until you get home?"
"Probably," He replied, phone already out and using it as a make-shift flashlight as he combed the dead leaves around us. "But it cost like, eighty dollars, and mom will kill me if I've lost it. We can't really afford another one yet."
"Okay, okay," I raised my hands and cut him off before he could work himself up anymore. "You look over there, I'll look over here, and we'll meet in the middle."
"Thanks," He nodded at me before continuing to shuffle around on the ground.
Pulling my phone out I used it as a make-shift flashlight as well, sweeping the small glow of light across the ground in front of me on the look-out for the small piece of white plastic. We couldn't stay long. Something had spooked those deer and I didn't want Scott around to find out just what it'd been. Raising my gaze I gave the immediate area around us a cautionary sweep, but found only trees and shadows. When Scott yelped behind me I spun around just in time to see him stumble and trip head over ass down a hill.
"Scott!" I called as I rushed over to what had spooked him, pulling up short when the light of my phone glinted off the wide unseeing eyes of a corpse.
Scott had found the other half of the body alright. It was a girl, naked with long brown hair and chalky skin covered in bruises, bites, and claw-marks. Glancing at where Scott had fallen I quickly took a picture for Kevin, hoping that the flash on my phone was good enough, before leaping over the dead girl and sliding down the hill after him.
A low growl reached my ears before I'd reached the bottom and all the hair on my body seemed to stand on end.
"Scott, run!" I shouted frantically as I ran towards where the boy was standing frozen while a hulking mass of shadows stalked towards him.
I got there just as the creature leapt on top of him.
Not slowing my momentum I ran head-long into it, arms going around its sides in what could be mistaken for a hug as I tackled it and forced it off of Scott, the creature and I tumbling to the ground on his other side. The force of our landing threw us apart and I rolled to my feet between Scott and the creature. Red eyes glowed at me across the darkness as it shifted hulking shoulders beneath a thick layer of coarse fur. Large curved fangs glinted from beneath curled back lips, thick ropes of saliva dangling from their tips, and long talons dug into the soft earth beneath it. It was a werewolf. Boring Beacon Hills had a Gods-damned werewolf. And all I had was Mr Pointy and an asthmatic teenage boy.
"Scott," My voice was low as I slowly backed towards where the boy was standing behind me, refusing to break eye-contact with the wolf.
"Run?" He wheezed behind me.
"Run."
I heard him take off behind me and the wolfs head twitched toward the direction he went though it didn't break eye-contact. It was smart at least, it knew that I was a potential threat. Of course, a lucid werewolf would be even harder to defeat than one lost to the blood-lust. I couldn't understand how it could be fully shifted to begin with, the full moon wasn't until Friday. By everything we'd been told about werewolves at Basic Training they only shifted for the full moon and two days leading up to it.
Something was very wrong.
Once I thought Scott had been given enough of a head start I turned and sprinted in the direction he had gone. I had expected the wolf to be hot on my heels, but for some reason it remained where it was. While I knew that I should be thankful that I wasn't having to go toe-to-toe with a werewolf, I couldn't help but feel that the reason it wasn't giving chase was because it had already gotten what it had wanted.
I needed to get to Scott.
I broke through the tree-line just a Scott narrowly avoided being hit by a car. The red SUV swerved around him, tires sliding on the wet blacktop, before continuing along and not even stopping to see if he was alright. Asshats.
"Scott!" I called, rushing to his side. He stood in the middle of the road still, the rain plastering his hair to his forehead as he breathed in short heaving gasps. "Scott, are you okay?"
I stood in front of him, hands curling around his biceps, blinking up through the raindrops clinging to my eyelashes. My mascara was probably a mess. Stop it, Fred. You have bigger concerns than your makeup. He met my eyes and nodded shakily, "Yeah-yeah I think I am?" He said through chattering teeth. "Are you okay?"
I grinned up at him, my tongue caught between my teeth, as I drew upon my well of fake confidence. "I'm five-by-five," I told him, using an expression Faith – the other capital 'S' slayer had frequently said. "Apart from being wet, cold, and scared out of my mind."
Letting out a stuttering laugh Scott let me lead him to the side of the road, "I feel you."
Linking my arm through his – more for his comfort than mine – I said, "Come on – I'll walk you home."
A/N:
Hey, I've had this idea banging around my head for awhile after finding a severely lacking amount of Buffy/Teen Wolf fanfiction. Apparently if I want this idea out there, I need to do it myself haha
Some quick notes -
I've done a little shuffling around with the time-lines so that the end of Season 7 of Buffy is only 2 months behind the start of Teen Wolf Season 1. I'm also only using the bit about the training grounds in Scotland as canon in this story - so all the bits in the comics about recruiting on TV, and the general public knowing about the existence of vampires and slayers etc never happened in my story. Some characters from Buffy will be mentioned, but at this stage I don't think I'll actually introduce them to the story proper. Fred will be getting her own story arc, not just tagging along with Scott and Co. also, but it's not going to stray too far from the Teen Wolf Universe. In the next chapter you'll see how Fred and her Watcher are confused about how different the Alpha is compared to the werewolves the Scoobies have encountered ie. Oz, Veruca. But that doesn't mean I'll be changing Teen Wolf werewolf lore - the slayer and her watcher are just going to have to adapt to new mythology haha
I've put that this is a OCXStiles fic, and it will be...eventually. It will be extremely slow-burn. Just so there's no disappointment when they're not hooking up by chapter 3. I plan on doing this rewrite for the long haul, so don't lose faith if it doesn't happen immediately. I want to concentrate more on building connections and friendships. And if the end of this chapter seemed a bit FredXScott - it wasn't! Scott's just a reeeeally nice guy.
Sorry, this AN has been a novel in itself. Please read and review.
- Susie Samurai