A vaguely humanoid shape sped through the woods, leaving jagged Scott-McCall-sized holes in the underbrush. The dark shape in front of him paused, close enough that Scott could see the matted fur and sharp claws, and then bounded away, impossibly fast for a creature of that size.

Scott followed it as quickly as possible. Last time he'd looked at his phone (to check that no one had eaten Stiles again and to see if Allison had replied; she hadn't), the time had been 8 o'clock. The moon had since come out, although it didn't make it much brighter as it was usually hiding behind clouds and/or all of the trees that densely populated the forest.

Taking a sharp bend, he skidded in the dirt. The shape raced up a large pile of rocks and Scott followed it over the side, narrowing his eyes. He willed himself to go faster. He shot over a small creek, coiled his muscles, and sprung right onto-

The rope snapped. Scott was flipped upside down, hitting his head as he rose feet into the air.

He groaned. One of the Argent's traps, probably. His earphones fell out of his pocket, landing on the ground a few feet away. His phone tried to escape as well, but he caught it at the last moment, heaving a sigh of relief.

His phone buzzed. He nearly dropped it.

Received: 8:25pm
From: Allison 333
To: Scott

Goodnight!

He stuck the phone in his mouth, and reached up to cut the rope from around his ankles, but the moment he touched the rope his hand sizzled. He yelped, and the phone dropped from his mouth. He caught it again, and stuck his burned finger inside his mouth. Ow.

He decided against calling Allison. Asking for her help would just get her into more trouble. That left Stiles.

His number went straight to voicemail.

"You've reached Stiles. If I'm in class and this is important enough to put me in detention for the rest of the year then by all means! Leave a message! No howling! " Beep.

"Stiles!" Scott growled, as quietly as possible. "Pick up the phone! I'm in one of Argent's traps. Bring some wire cutters or something; I burned my hand trying to cut it the rope myself. And change your voicemail. You can't still be angry about that; we told you we were sorry weeks ago, and Derek-" Beep.

Sent: 8:46pm
To: The Stinilator
From: Scott

stiles pick up ur phone

Sent: 8:51pm
To: The Stinilator
From: Scott

stiles i am stuck in a trap pls

"-stuck in a trap and –huff – I can't actually get out of this one because it starts smoking when I try to touch it? Ouch. Wait…it might have wolfs bane on it or something Sties that stuff can poison werewolves-" Beep.

Sent: 9:07pm
To: The Stinilator
From: Scott

stiles

Sent: 9:13pm

To: The Stinilator
From: Scott

stiles r u ignoring me or r u ded

Sent: 9:28pm
To: The Stinilator
From: Scott

STILES ITS STARTING TO BURN MY SHOE A LITTLE BIT

"STILES PLEASE PICK UP YOU ARE REALLY WORRYING ME YOUR PHONE ISN'T EVEN RINGING ALSO MY SHOE IS MELTING" Beep.

Draft saved at: 9:40pm
To: the Stinilator
From: Scott

i can hear somethin

Scott dropped his phone. It slipped right out of his fingers, cracking on the rocks below him. Stiles' disembodied voice rang out, loudly:

"You've reached Stiles. If I'm in class and this is important enough to put me in detention for the rest of the year then by all means! Leave a message! No howling! "

Scott howled in frustration.


Stiles awoke to a pounding on his window. He blinked blearily; rubbing his eyes, and fell off the bed. He stood back up and unlatched the window.

"Stiles!"

Scott tumbled into the room.

"Oh, it's just you." Stiles fell back onto his bed. "What do you want this early?"

"What do I want?"

Stiles looked up at his best friend. Scott looked incredulously back at him.

"Dude, I called you like a million times last night!"

Stiles sat up. "So?"

"So?" Scott waved his hands around. "I was stuck in one of those traps Allison's dad put up! It had some sort of wolfs bane stuff on it so I couldn't get out of it."

Stiles squinted. "So you're mad at me because I didn't answer my phone."

"You are always supposed to answer your phone. We all call you instead of Derek. He doesn't care. Why didn't you answer when I called you? Are you still mad about last month when we-"

Scott broke off, sheepishly.

"When you broke my phone?" Stiles stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "Course not. Although I can't really answer it without actually having it, you know?"

Scott mumbled an apology.

"It's okay, man. Happens to the best of us. How did you get out, anyway?"

"Once my shoe melted I just sort of wriggled out of it. It took me a couple hours." He grinned. "I got a massive scar, though!" He pulls the back of his shirt down, revealing a bloody scrape.

"Dude, ew, get that off my bed." Throwing a shirt in his direction, he rolls his eyes and opens the door. "Wanna watch Saturday morning cartoons and eat pancakes on the couch? Derek, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd will be back later so we have a couple hours to spare."

Scott pulls the new shirt on. "They left? Where did they go?"

As they walk down the hall, and down the stairs, and into the kitchen where his dad is cooking, Stiles says "Things just go in one ear and out the other, don't they."

"Hey, I can hear you, you know."