Gusts of wind and snow pounded against Stile's back as he headed home from the middle school, watching his step on the icy sidewalk as he went. He clutched the collar of his red coat with one hand, the other holding down the hood as a gust swirled around him. It was so strong that he could hear the snowflakes rushing along the ground and against his clothes, like grains of sand at the beach.

His eyes were watering from the harsh wind and his nose and cheeks bright red, but his head was elsewhere. Yesterday had been the anniversary. Not one of the fun ones, it was the one where he and his dad would dress up and go to the cemetery. The weather had been better yesterday; plenty of snow still on the ground but the air was still and quiet. It was like nature was giving them a break, just for the day.

xxxx

He'd looked up at his dad as they stood at the plot. The older Stilinski always looked lonelier in the days preceding the anniversary, the sadness surrounding him at its peak when they finally came to see her. A weird thought crossed the thirteen-year-old's mind, and he blurted it out before he could stop himself. "Do you think you'll ever fall in love again?"

The Sheriff's eyes widened and he turned to his son curiously.

Stiles was nervous and continued to speak, wanting to clear up what he had started. "It's just that… I mean… you and Mom were perfect. Like, you fought sometimes. But it was never like with Scott's parents. Mom trusted you and you trusted her. I just… I think mom would want you to be happy and trust somebody again."

He stole a glance up at his dad, whose expression was changing with each moment. "Stiles, you know I'm happy with just us."

"Come on, you know that's not what I mean."

His father nodded, smiling. "I can't treat you like a kid anymore." He sighed. "Remember when we watched that documentary the other night? The one with the vultures and the monkeys and-"

"…and the wolves?" Stiles finished. He knew where his father was going. "They all mated for life. So you feel that way about Mom?"

The Sheriff looked back at the snow-dusted stone. "Being with someone new, it wouldn't be fair to them because I still belong to your mother. That's how I feel about it." His father patted his chest and set a small bouquet of flowers on the grave.

Stiles looked at it, drinking in the sight of her engraved letters one more time before they left. As they walked back to the car, he began to speak again. "I want to be like that. Like the wolves. It'll be me and Lydia forever."

His father chuckled. "I think you need a willing partner to be mates in the first place. At least hold out for somebody who sees how great you are."

Stiles' face flushed a bit. "Dad, no."

"It has to be someone smart…"

"Lydia is smart."

"Not smart enough if she isn't dating you."

"Ugh! Well how will I know if they're the right one?" He asked it as a challenge more than a real question, wanting to call out his dad on trying to be an expert, but his father seemed to know it all today.

"You'll know because they'll stand up for you. And it won't just be about the romantic nonsense, they'll be your friend too. If you're going to be with someone for life, they're going to see you at your worst, and they'll be alright with what they see."

"At my worst as in bad hair and zits or like… when I'm the least mentally stable?"

His father sighed with irritation. "Alright, get in the car."

"One more thing!" he asked, having a strange feeling their moment would end once they left the cemetery. "How long do you think it'll be? When did you and mom meet?"

"A lot older than you are now." He looked at Stiles pointedly. "Who knows, son. It could be ten years, or you could meet them tomorrow."

"Tomorrow…" Stiles murmured to himself as he got into the car.

xxxx

Stiles walked through the snow, mulling it over. 'Tomorrow' had come and gone today and he hadn't met anyone new. To rub it in, some jerk named Jackson had asked Lydia to be his girlfriend. Stiles knew he wasn't really 'some jerk', he was an authentic and verified douche that Stiles knew very well. He'd stolen Stiles' clothes after a shower in the locker rooms and made fun of him for knowing the answer in Language Arts. Stiles had briefly debated playing dumb in class after that, but he had too much dignity to play dumb even with the social downfalls. He could roll with it. Scott had his back and that was plenty good enough for him.

"Ugh, you're being pathetic," he said out loud as a gust of wind blew the snow off a branch above the sidewalk, dumping snow into his mouth and down his collar. "Pthpft! Crap!"

He heard the growl of an engine from behind him, but didn't bother looking back as he leaned forward and shook, trying to get the snow out from inside the red jacket. He did pause and look up as said car stopped beside him, some blue sports car that was probably nice a decade ago. Stiles wasn't a car guy. But when the window rolled down, Jesus Christ, it was Christian Harris. He'd never really spoken to him before, but he sure had done a lot of ogling the year in middle school when he was in 5th grade and Christian was in 8th. Now He was in 8th and Christian was a Junior in the High School. And wow, the years had only made him look nicer.

The teen had his sunglasses low on his nose as he looked at Stiles. "You want a ride?"

"Uh…" he mumbled, stunned.

The older teen blew the blonde, bleach-dyed hair out of his face and cocked a brow. Stiles must have looked stupid standing there debating as his nose dripped and hands shook.

"Y-Yeah, definitely!" he finally said, rushing to the car and tugging like an idiot to no avail. Christian unlocked the door and Stiles jumped in, letting out a sigh as the warm air hit him. "Sorry, I just didn't recognize you for a second with the hair thing going on," Stiles lied, not having an excuse for hesitating. Christian's hair had been brown in middle school, but now it was very blond and sort of dry looking, but still nice.

"You know me?" the teen asked as he pulled off and began to drive.

Stiles looked at him with surprise. "You mean you don't know me? You just picked up some random guy off the road?"

Christian shrugged. "Sure, why not? It's fucking cold out."

"Huh. Well… I'm Stiles. We went to the middle school together."

"Oh, cool. What are you, a freshmen now? I don't know if I've seen you."

"I'll be a freshmen next year," Stiles admitted, trying to make his voice a little low. He couldn't help the implication that he was still in middle school, which was embarrassing for the first time. Christian lowered his sunglasses and glanced his way, studying him. Stiles thought it was a little suggestive but it could have been wishful thinking. No way Christian Harris was checking him out. Then again, he was holding eye contact for quite a while.

There was a honk and the older teen jerked the car out of the way of oncoming traffic. "Fuck," he spat, suddenly flustered. Stiles' face felt a little warm as he started to wonder if the other boy had really been checking him out. Jeez. Was this the Twilight Zone? Christian looked at him again. "I think I do remember you."

"Yeah?" Stiles asked hopefully.

"Didn't you follow me around a lot?"

Stiles went beet red. "I don't remember that."

"S'fine. It was cute. Are you going to follow me around next year when you're a freshmen?"

"N-No, of course not!"

The older teen chuckled. "Too bad."

Stiles bit his lip and looked back at the other boy, who was smiling as he drove.

They chatted back and forth for a while. Christian's uncle was a teacher at the High School. Stiles asked him how he liked that, but the other didn't have many feelings either way. Stiles asked a lot of questions and Christian offered vague answers, never really having an opinion on much. He did, however, have a way of saying things that kept Stiles feeling pretty darn nice. Plus, Christian had passed his house a while ago. The smile fell from Stiles' face when it hit him. "Oh crap!"

"What?"

"I forgot to tell you to turn. Like, a couple miles back."

Christian laughed. "Well, do you want to hang out then?"

"Huh?"

"You know, hang out."

Stiles stared ahead of him. "Uhh yeah, okay."

They drove for a few moments in silence before Christian spoke up. "The weather looks better." And it was true, the wind had almost completely stopped blowing, and there were a few rays of sun showing through the blanket of clouds. Christian looked down at Stiles' feet. "You've got boots on. Good. Want to take a walk?"

Before he could answer, the car was turning off onto a side road into the woods. The road wasn't plowed and Christian drove slowly, but seemed to know his way around. Stiles had never been here, and looked around with a flutter in his stomach.

xxxx

The wolf walked slowly through the brush, nose to the air as he followed the scent of a deer. It was easier now with the air still and the snow not blowing around in his face. He shook his dark coat, dislodging snowflakes that had clung to it before. He froze when he heard something in the brush, and moved forward a few quiet steps. He could hear a heartbeat and then caught sight of it. The large buck darted off and the wolf lunged into action, running behind. The buck ran in great leaps, keeping the wolf on the ends of his pads as he kept up. He ran until he felt like he was flying, leaping over a wide stream as he followed the deer. He began to close in, and in one lunge he could sink his teeth into that delicious hind leg…

He suddenly picked up the scent of humans and skidded to a stop, falling to the ground as he hid himself. If he had been smaller, perhaps the size of a natural wolf, he might be able to get away with being spotted. But he didn't want to risk it now.

"Wow, did you see that deer?" a human asked.

"No," the other replied. "You want a smoke?"

"No thanks," the first said, somewhat awkwardly. By the sound of them it was two boys, one younger than the other. The younger boy's pulse was a little faster, laced with nervousness.

The wolf could smell the cigarette smoke, and resisted burying his snout in the snow drift. He began to rise to slip away, but the boys were already drawing closer as they walked.

"Where are we going?" the younger one asked.

"The woods," the older laughed. "It's just a cool walk."

They came into the wolf's sight and he pressed himself down farther against the snow, shifting to try and hide himself in the branches. The boys were passing him by now, and if he wanted he could go and not be spotted. But something about them left him suspicious. The older boy's scent had a faint amount of arousal in the mix, and the younger one just seemed so /young/. He began to stalk them, silently and far enough back not to be seen.

"So when did you know?" Christian asked after a while, taking a puff from his cigarette.

Stiles had a good idea what he was asking, but couldn't be the first to say it. "Know what?"

Christian turned and smiled as he walked backward. "Know that you played for the same team."

Stiles looked at his feet. "Uhh… I guess I play for both teams, actually. I'm pretty flexible with the whole gender thing, but yeah, my dad asked me before I'd even thought about it. I was twelve. I guess he must have seen me checking out a dude or something. I don't know how he knew but at least he's okay with it."

"Lucky," Christian said. "My fam doesn't know. They're hardcore Catholic. If my dad found out he'd beat the shit out of me. Probably kick me out. Mom would cry, I know that much. My third cousin came out and he got disowned."

The wolf could barely stand listening to the bullshit spewing out of the older boy's mouth. It would have been tragic if it were true, but the older teen's pulse was all wrong, his scent wafting too much arousal for someone spilling their heart. Being in wolf form didn't mean he could read minds, but all the signs pointed one way. Even the tone of the boy's voice sounded ingenuous. And the poor kid was eating it up, his heart pounding sympathetically as he followed.

The older boy was a hunter. The wolf couldn't tell exactly how yet, but the human went after what he wanted. It was probably that way with everything, not just objects of attraction. He sniffed around the trail, curious over the smell of the older boy. There was the fresh scent and old ones, certainly not his first time here. And from the other old scents, perhaps not his first time with a guest.

"At least you've got your uncle," Stiles tried to console him. "It's good that he understands." The other shrugged. Stiles looked around and turned back to look behind them. "We're going pretty far. Do you really know this place?"

"I won't get you lost. Don't you trust me?"

"Yeah, of course."

"It's safe if you know your way around, and I do. If you kept heading straight you'd get lost forever."

The wolf snorted. It was twenty miles that way, certainly not 'forever'. Though perhaps for a little human, it was far enough to be 'too far'.

Christian stopped beside the trunk of a large tree and looked around. "The trees smell good."

Stiles couldn't really smell anything, and wondered if he was coming down with something. He sniffled. Christian turned to him and Stiles smiled nervously. "Do you want to head back soon? This is fun but I'm kind of cold."

"You're cold?" the older boy said with surprise. "You should have said something before." He leaned in, wrapping his hands around Stiles' waist and pulling him close. "Any better?"

Stiles' eyes went wide. It didn't really help, but he could stand being cold for a little longer.

The dark wolf waited behind a cluster of evergreens in the distance, monitoring the situation. He wouldn't interfere if he didn't have to, even if he already didn't like kids fooling around in his territory. He watched resentfully as the older teen pushed the younger back against the trunk of the tree, brushing his mouth along the side of the younger boy's face. He moved down to his neck, making the younger take in a sharp breath of air as he sucked on his skin. The wolf wanted to break it up right there, but the younger held onto the older, head leaning back against the tree. If he was allowing it then it was none of the wolf's business, he thought with frustration. He wanted to howl and give them a scare, but if any more of his kind were within hearing distance then he would be ringing the dinner bell for them, the main course being a snotty teenager with a cute little one for dessert.

The older raised his head and kissed the younger full on the lips, over and over, tongue sliding out between kisses and doing who knows what. The wolf blinked when he saw the look on the younger boy's face. He looked… underwhelmed? Unsure? A little bit disgusted. It was a funny sort of expression, and the wolf was getting a good sense that the blonde wasn't kissing very well. He buried his tongue in the younger boy's mouth, bringing out one of the funniest faces from the younger boy. The wolf would have laughed… if he weren't a wolf right then.

"Mmh," the younger boy said, pulling back as the blond unzipped the front of his jacket. "What are you doing?"

"It's okay," the older boy said, without further explanation as he slipped a hand underneath the younger boy's shirt, causing him to hiss.

"Cold," the younger murmured before being quieted down with more bad kissing. His underwhelmed expression started looking more uncomfortable as the older pressed him back, starting to grind his hips against him. Goodness help him, he was trying to enjoy it, kissing back and putting his small hands on the older boy's chest. But he wasn't. The wolf could hear his pulse growing faster.

The younger boy managed to pull away. "Let's go back, I'm really cold."

"But you're so cute, Stiles," the blonde purred, "And I'm so horny. Just a little longer."

'So the boy's name was 'Stiles'?' the wolf thought. It didn't matter, but he filed it away regardless. He was growing tenser by the moment, and had already begun to take a few steps closer.

"You ever blown somebody?" the older boy asked.

"No."

"Want to try?"

"I… I don't know," the younger said nervously.

The blonde pushed his finger into Stiles' mouth expecting him to suck, but the younger boy was having none of it. He backed his head away and squeezed out from between the tree and the older boy, still trying to smile as he zipped up his coat again. "Well this has been fun and all but I should probably go someplace warm before I catch the flu." The younger boy turned away from the older as he pulled up the red hood. The wolf caught his expression, and was satisfied that he obviously never wanted to come back again.

"You're no fun," the older boy whined. The wolf's hair rose on the back of his neck. What a piece of shit. If the blonde had been a werewolf too he would have torn him up.

"Oh well," Stiles responded, a little annoyed as he headed off.

"Wrong way," the older boy said, and began walking slightly to the left. The younger followed sullenly, looking guilty and embarrassed. The wolf would have left then, but the older boy's pulse was beginning to quicken and he knew something was going to happen.

"I didn't know you were a prude," the blonde said, not looking back.

"Well I didn't know you were a dick," the younger shot back.

The older boy whirled around on him. "I'm a what? I'm a dick? What the hell did you think I brought you out here for?" The younger stepped back as the older began to crowd him. "You should have said something when I pulled off the main road. You're the little jackass here." The older boy pushed the younger, once and then again, causing him to fall into the snow. "I should have known better than to waste time with some prude, middle school baby!" And with that, he spat on the younger boy.

A loud snarl erupted from the wolf's throat, and the two boys turned sharply to see him standing there, back rigid and teeth bared. The wolf was unearthly colossal, standing seventeen hands high.

"HO-LY SHIT!" the blond cried, and the wolf bolted at him. It only took half a second for him to tackle the boy to the ground. The boy screamed as the wolf bit into the material of his coat. He snarled ferociously as he tore it up, running his claws through the material and sending feathers bursting from the lining. The blonde continued to scream beneath him, but the wolf hadn't drawn a drop of blood. He knew better than to harm the kid, but he was going to make sure the boy saw him every night in his nightmares.

Something hard hit the wolf in the back of the head, not enough to hurt but plenty enough to surprise him. His jaws went lax and the boy scrambled from beneath him, running off toward his car. The wolf turned to look at what had hit him, a long stick that the younger boy... 'Stiles', was wielding. The wolf calmed at the sight of him, no desire to scare the little one. Stupidly the wolf stepped forward and the boy dropped his stick, running in the opposite direction. He was running deeper into the woods, headed for that twenty mile trek. He was going to get lost, and it was the wolf's fault for interfering.

Not knowing what else to do, he began to follow the boy, and started to run past him to head him off. If he could get in front, he could get him to turn around.

Stiles ran for his life, terrified as the massive wolf chased him. What the hell kind of giant, monster wolf was this? He'd always thought they'd be the size of a husky, but this THING was the size of a horse. He would have laughed, hysterical that his last thoughts were as stupid as these, because he was definitely going to die.

He saw the shadowy wolf in the corner of his eye and turned away, his foot catching a root. And then he was falling toward a frozen pond, head colliding with the ice.

xxxx

The pond had not been easily visible, no more than thirty feet across and hidden by a tangle of branches. The wolf was already lunging at the boy as he fell, but he reached him too late. He could hear the ice crack against the boy's head. The thin ice completely shattered as his body collided with it. In seconds he was under the water.

The water was no more than two feet deep there, and the wolf's paws reached the bottom when he went after the kid. He sunk his muzzle into the frigid water, shards of ice floating around his head. He took a mouthful of the boy's red coat and pulled his head above the water to keep him from drowning, and dragged him up the small ravine onto level ground.

The facts were laid out. He had to get the wet clothes off the human before hypothermia killed him, and he could not do it as a wolf. And if the kid saw him as a human, his cover would be blown. His family would have to leave town. They'd lose their business, and he would never be forgiven. But the consequences ran through his mind as if he'd already made his choice, because there was no choice. He had to save the boy. The boy's… Stiles'… lips were already turning blue.

The massive wolf transformed, fur sinking back into flesh, bones and muscles rearranging until he stood on two legs, nude and human. He stood there with the increasing wind catching at his dark hair, pulling droplets of water from the strands. He knelt in the snow, unzipping the boy's coat and peeling off one wet layer after the next.

"Damn it," he murmured under his breath. Stiles' wet clothes were freezing but it wasn't any better outside, especially with the human in his boxers. Derek looked around, but he already knew there was nowhere to take him for miles. He lifted the unconscious boy up against him, swearing again as he felt how cold he was. Derek would not freeze, but Stiles could.

"C'mon kid, wake up," he said, holding the boy's face. He moved his thumb when he found blood on it, and finally noticed the cut on his head where the ice had hit. He grimaced. This was all his fault. He should have just let the shitty teenager be an asshole, because he couldn't have done worse than this. But no, Derek had to get involved. People always got hurt when Derek tried to do something good.

He held him tighter, looking around and wishing he had something, anything to keep the young teen warm.

xxxx

Stiles slowly drifted into the land of the living, and he was met with the worst throbbing his head had ever felt. Jesus, it throbbed from his forehead to his brow to his nose and into his teeth, all the way to his molars. He groaned out loud, shifting slightly. He was cramped up with his knees against his chest. After a moment he started to string together some coherent thoughts, and wondered where he was. He was warm and there was a lot of fur. He shifted and his surrounding shifted back, and like a flash his memories returned. Christian Harris, cigarette-laced kisses, and a giant, monster wolf.

"Oh crap," he said, voice cracking.

With that, the wolf uncurled from around him and he was flooded with frigid air. He gasped, body cramping up from the sudden temperature change and his lack of clothing. He looked to his right and saw the wolf staring him down, and leapt to his feet. "Jesus!" he shrieked, backing up into the trunk of a tree, clutching himself from the cold. "God, you're freaking huge," he said, voice high.

The wolf stood and came closer, and Stiles pressed himself back farther. His feet took turns lifting out of the snow, which stung like hell. The wolf truly was massive, his gaze eye-level with Stiles'. Stiles shivered as he watched him, trying to think logically in this improbable situation. But it was hard to think with those eyes staring him down, so… intelligently? Maybe it was just the bump on his head preventing him from seeing clearly.

The wolf broke eye contact, looking down him and to the ground. It stepped closer and put a paw out, scratching at the snow. Stiles stared at it and eventually at what it was doing, scraping the snow away in a spot in front of Stiles. It looked up at him and waited, and slowly Stiles stepped out of the snow and onto the bare dirt. It was still cold, but it was better than being ankle deep in fluffy ice.

"T-Thanks," he said through the shaking.

He looked down at himself, wondering how he'd gotten naked. And then he saw his coat lying in the snow and reached for it, groaning when it turned out to be a heavy, frozen popsicle of clothing. The wolf continued to watch his movements, and he wasn't sure what to do. The sky was getting dark… or was it getting lighter out? He had no idea. He very well could have spent the night wrapped up in wolf, from the crick in his neck.

He looked at the wolf. "I guess you're not going to eat me?" The wolf snorted and Stiles blinked. "I'll take that as a 'no'?" He gasped as the wolf came close again, backed up against the tree as it pressed against him, covering his upper half with fur. "Oh God, okay then…" he said in a panic, but the wolf didn't do any more than that. At least he was warm. Stiles leaned in closer after a moment, closing his eyes as he buried his face in fur. "This is the weirdest thing by far, that has ever happened to me... definitely the coldest too. Ugh. What am I gonna do?" he groaned. "And you," he continued, addressing the wolf. "I don't mean to offend, but you definitely belong in the Plus Size department. Or Big and Tall, Wolf Edition."

The wolf backed away after a moment, looking over him again. It was strange how thoughtful it seemed, definitely like it was thinking about something, making up its mind. It turned back to the pile of clothes and sniffed around the snow until it found a shoe, picking it up.

"Yes!" Stiles said encouragingly, "That's mine, please. I'd like it now, please."

The wolf's ears twitched and it dropped the shoe, staring off into the woods with wide eyes.

"…Wolf?"

The wolf ignored him, ears perked up as it continued to stare. And then it whined, neck straightening up. It hurried to Stiles, nudging him with a large snout and pushing him forward.

"Agh, stop! I can't walk in this!"

Stiles stumbled and fell into the snow, yelping before he got back up again. "Need… shoes…"

The wolf ignored him, staring off into the woods. It whimpered, looking from Stiles to the woods again. It came at Stiles, walking around him and nudging him between the knees from behind.

"Ack!" Stiles said with shock, looking at the nose protruding from between his knees. "What are you doing?" The wolf pushed again until Stiles began stumbling back against him. "Stop! Stop!" He managed to get away, staring at the frustrated beast. Yeah, it was definitely frustrated now. It came at Stiles, this time crouching beside him. It looked up expectantly. "What? What do you want?"

The wolf whined, looking off into the woods again and back at Stiles. It barked loudly and Stiles jumped, getting a good look at his teeth again. The wolf leaned up against his knee a bit, shifting closer.

Stiles' eyes narrowed. "Do you… want me to get on?"

The wolf's body trembled and it whined, looking off into the woods again. It barked impatiently.

"Okay okay," Stiles said, clambering onto the wolf's back. This was the weirdest thing, the weirdest day… and not a moment after he'd swung his leg over did the wolf stand up, and wow, he was high up now. He grasped onto him tightly for support. With fistfuls of fur he braced himself and the wolf began to run.

"Oh God, oh God," he repeated, eyes shut as he gripped the long fur. His knees tightened to the wolf's sides and he kept himself down against the beast. This was not a walk in the park, the movements fast and jerky and dear God did that wind sting his bare skin! "Agh, I did not sign up for this!" he shouted, face pressed against the wolf's back.

After a moment he dared to open his eyes, and couldn't believe it. It was like they were flying, trees zipping past, and everything seeming so far below from where he clung to the massive wolf. He raised himself up a bit, the wind biting at his chest but it was the most exhilarating thing he'd ever…

"Wow."

The wolf glanced back at him for a moment before turning forward, and Stiles clung tighter to it.

But it was over soon, the wolf slowing to a stop. He crouched and Stiles clumsily got to his own feet. They stood in silence for a moment, Stiles waiting for the wolf to do something. They had stopped in front of a huge, jagged boulder, which had trees growing up over it. The sky was brighter than it was before, which meant they had spent the night together after all. He looked at the wolf, who seemed preoccupied with listening for something. The more the teen stared, the more he knew this wasn't a normal wolf.

Stiles was pulled out of his reverie when he heard something, the oh-so sweet sound of human voices.

"Stiles!" someone shouted in the distance. Stiles gasped.

"Stiles!" someone else called, and Stiles knew that voice.

"Dad!" he cried out, running through the snow. There was nothing in the whole wide world he wanted more than his dad right now. He felt a lump in his throat as he heard Scott's voice too. "Scott! Dad!" he shouted, "I'm over here!" He ran alongside the boulder, following the many shouts of his name. He paused for a moment at the corner of the boulder and turned back, but the wolf was already gone.

xxxxx

"Stiles?!" his father called from afar, and suddenly the calls from the search party quieted, listening, waiting.

Stiles filled his lungs in a long breath and shouted again. "DAAAD! I'm here!" He ran up the snowy slope, watching the line of trees ahead for any sign of life. He stumbled once and then twice before he saw a few people in the distance. Oh thank God and Jesus and Buddha and whoever else for this moment because he was about to get out this personal hell called 'nature'. Oh yes, he was going to spend so much time in his room, wrapped in a snuggly sweater in front of a laptop. He planned to get fat too. Yes.

Scott saw him first, who'd been running faster than the rest. Scott's eyes widened at the sight of his bare-skinned best friend and he began to pull off his coat as he ran. They slammed into each other, arms wrapped tightly.

"Why are you naked?" Scott shouted.

"I'm not entirely sure!" Stiles shouted back. "But I'm really cold!"

They pulled apart and Scott threw his coat over Stiles' shoulders, just as his father reached them. Stiles was wrapped into a second, more powerful hug that momentarily lifted him off his feet. His father was crying, downright crying.

"Dad," Stiles pleaded, getting choked up because his dad was crying. More and more of the search party met them.

"His feet!" someone shouted.

The Sheriff pulled away and Stiles saw what he'd been hoping to avoid seeing, the tears streaked down his father's face. The Sheriff looked down him at his bare feet, bruised and black on the tips of his toes, the snow pink in places where he'd walked. He shifted a foot to expose the blood beneath it.

"I must've stepped on something," Stiles said. By now his feet were so numb he couldn't feel anything.

"Somebody get him some shoes! We need an ambulance!" the Sheriff shouted, lifting Stiles off his feet. The teen shrieked, struggling until he was put down. Someone threw down their coat and he was forced to stand on it.

"I'm the queen now?" he said breathily, because he was actually standing on a coat. He was feeling dizzy and stupid and overwhelmed, and having trouble staying upright.

His father ignored the inane comment, fixated on his lack of clothes. "What happened to you? Stiles, who did this to you?"

"Uh…" Stiles thought about it, but there wasn't an easy explanation. "I think a wolf took my clothes."

The sheriff blinked, and Stiles knew he was going to dismiss that too. He had a look of terror on his face, looking over his son. "Did… Did somebody… hurt you? Stiles…" his father's voice cracked and Stiles' eyes watered for him.

"No, no! I'm okay. Nobody did anything. I'm okay. I'm just cold and I could eat a whole Burger King right now."

His dad stared him down. "We're going to get you warm and you're going to get something big to eat really soon, okay Stiles?"

"Great, great," Stiles replied, nodding.

Soon enough he was clamoring into the back of an ambulance, and with every moment he warmed up his feet began to throb even more.