Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Slender.
Chapter 2: Road Trip
Scott McCall walked down the hallway of Beacon Hills High School, listening to the meaningless chatter of the other students all around him. The endless chorus of voices was actually a good thing sometimes; when you zoned out a bit, it became like white noise. After everything that had been going on during the last few months, Scott had been trying to relax in any way he could.
God knew he could use some rest, after the semester he and his friends had been through.
First, there had been the Alpha pack, and the Darach (aka Jennifer Blake), who had gone on a sacrificial killing spree through Beacon Hills, resulting in the deaths of several of Scott's friends and endangering the rest. They'd finally made it through that threat, only to face a new enemy; the Nogitsune.
Scott still had nightmares about the dark spirit's rampage, resulting in the deaths of dozens of people, including Aiden. But worse than all the pain of those deaths, worse than anything Scott could ever have imagined, was Allison.
She had died in his arms. He could still see it; those last moments. Her tearful smile, before her head fell back and all movement ceased.
No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get the images out of his mind. It had been over a months, and he hadn't managed to really get over it. He had nightmares about what had happened on a regular basis, and he knew that his friends were in the same situation.
Abruptly, he was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of a voice calling his name.
"Scott? Scott!"
Scott turned, to see Stiles hurrying down the hallway towards him with a grin on his face.
"What's up?" Scott asked, pulling a textbook out of his locker.
Stiles grinned. "Okay, so Thanksgiving break's starting tomorrow, right? Well, I say this year we do something different. After all of the crap we've been through, we've earned it."
Scott raised an eyebrow. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
"Oh, you're gonna love this." Smirking, Stiles pulled a flyer out of his pocket, unfolded it and held it up. "I found this ad for a music festival next week in Portland. And the list of performers includes two of our favorite bands: The Offspring and The Black Lips." With a triumphant grin, he threw his arms out. "Well? How's that sound?"
Scott considered for a moment. "I mean, it sounds cool, yeah, but… dude, we can't miss Thanksgiving with our families."
"Did I say we were going to miss Thanksgiving?" Stiles countered. "The music festival's on Monday and Tuesday. So what I figure is, we head out after school on Friday and drive up to Oregon, do some camping on the way. We're in Portland by Monday, we hit the festival and stay for two nights in the city, and we drive home Wednesday and spend Thanksgiving right back here in Beacon Hills." He smiled again. "And, before you ask, I already talked to my dad; he's totally okay with it, as long as we keep in touch and get back by Wednesday. So what do you say?"
After a moment, Scott nodded, impressed despite himself. "Sounds cool. All right, what the hell? I'm in."
"Yes!" Stiles punched a fist in the air exuberantly. "Okay, let's pack tonight, and we can head out tomorrow afternoon. No girls, no werewolf problems, just you and me."
Scott's lips curved in a faint smile. "Okay, then. Let's do it."
The next afternoon was cool and crisp, with a faint breeze. Scott had barely finished packing the last of his clothes for the road trip into a suitcase when he heard the familiar sound of Stiles blaring the horn on his Jeep out front.
Picking up his bags, Scott hurried down the stairs. His mom, of course, was waiting for him in the living room. She smiled and hugged him. "Be safe, okay? And look after Stiles; make sure he doesn't get himself into trouble."
Scott grinned. "I will, Mom. And I'll make sure we're home in time for Thanksgiving."
Stiles was waiting, of course, leaning against his Jeep, when Scott walked out the front door carrying his bags. He waved a hand. "Come on, come on! Let's go!"
"All right, all right," Scott muttered, heaving his bags into the car. "Relax; we've got plenty of time."
"Yeah, well, we're on a timetable here, Scotty," Stiles replied, hopping into the driver's seat. "So let's get a move on."
Sighing, Scott climbed into the passenger's seat, and the Jeep pulled out onto the road.
Scott and Stiles spent the rest of the day driving, heading north towards Portland. Their first stop was in an area near Sacramento, where they set up a tent at a local campground and settled in for the night.
"So, why did you really want to go on this trip?" Scott asked, as they sat beside a campfire, each holding a bottle of bourbon that Stiles had pilfered from his father's liquor cabinet before leaving.
Stiles sighed heavily, staring into the crackling flames. "I just… I needed this. I needed to get out of town for a while, see new places, meet new people…" He trailed off. "I need to forget, Scott. I can't stop seeing it. I still have nightmares about all of it. All those people who got hurt, who died, because of that thing wearing my face. Allison, Aiden… so many other people… I can't get it out of my head."
"Hey." Scott placed a hand on his friend's shoulder comfortingly. "I get it. I know how it feels." He didn't smile, but his facial expression was earnest and kind. "It's gonna be okay, all right? You're gonna get through this."
After a long moment, Stiles nodded. "I hope so."
They sat beside the fire until it burned to ashes, and then crawled into their tent to sleep.
Scott woke up at dawn. Despite the alcohol he'd consumed the previous night, he felt much better now; his werewolf metabolism had erased any traces of a hangover.
Stiles, unfortunately, wasn't that lucky; he'd drank at least as much as Scott, and he hadn't been able to sleep it off. He spent most of the day curled up in the passenger's seat with his jacket draped over his head and complaining that his skull felt like it was going to explode, leaving Scott to drive. His hangover didn't fade until midway through the afternoon, by which time they had traveled a considerable distance north.
They stopped in a town called Redding for a late lunch, once Stiles's hangover had finally ebbed to some degree. Scott parked at a diner, and they both exited the car and found an unoccupied booth inside.
A waitress showed up after a couple of minutes; she was blonde, wearing a red T-shirt and dark jeans, and smiled in a friendly way. "What can I get you guys?"
"Chicken fingers, fries, and a big Coca-Cola," Stiles replied.
The waitress nodded, writing down his order, and then turned to Scott. "And what would you like?"
"Bacon cheeseburger, no onions, rare, with fries," Scott said promptly. "And a Coke for me too, please."
She smiled again, taking his order down, and then collected the menus and headed back to the kitchen.
By the time their food arrived, Stiles had finally stopped complaining about Scott's drinking a significant amount of the alcohol he'd brought along, and was, instead, speculating on where they could find a good place to camp for the night.
"Here you go," the waitress said with a smile as she set down their orders on the table.
"Thanks," Scott replied, a faint grin of his own flickering across his face as he took a sip of his drink.
"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know any good campgrounds around here, would you?" Stiles inquired.
The waitress considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I do, actually; Mount Shasta's only about an hour's drive north of here. There's lots of good campgrounds and hiking trails around there."
"Cool, thanks!"
As soon as they finished dinner, Scott and Stiles climbed back into the Jeep and headed off up I-5 towards Mount Shasta. After about an hour, they passed through the town and headed out along a road leading into the surrounding mountains, towards one of the campgrounds the waitress had mentioned.
"So, what's the deal with you and Kira, anyway?" Stiles asked as he continued driving down the road, through dense pine forest. The sky overhead was filled with dark gray clouds.
Scott looked over at him in surprise. "What? I… nothing. There is no deal; we're not…"
Stiles snorted. "Oh, please. Scott, there's obviously something going on between you two; so are you dating, or what?"
After a moment, Scott frowned. "I…" He sighed. "I don't know. After Allison, and everything that happened… I can't date anyone else yet. Not this soon. I mean, Kira's great, but…"
"No, I get it." Stiles nodded understandingly. "It makes sense. But, dude… don't you think Allison would want you to get on with life? She'd want you to be happy, right?"
Scott's eyes closed for a few minutes as he thought that over, leaning his head against the cold window. As much as he hated to admit it, Stiles was right; Allison wouldn't want his grief over her death to keep him from being happy.
As he thought it over, Scott relaxed, slumping against the cool glass, and began to drift off to sleep.
"What the hell?"
At Stiles's words, Scott opened his eyes with a start. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Look." Stiles pointed out through the windshield. Scott turned his head, just in time to see a car – a dark red Ford Taurus – parked at the side of the road.
"Why would someone be parked all the way out here?" he wondered. "We should see if they need help."
"Yeah," Stiles muttered, "that's what I was thinking." He stopped alongside the car, only to see that there was no one in the driver's seat. In fact, there was no one in the car at all.
"There aren't any people," Scott murmured, rolling down the window.
"Yeah, I see that," Stiles retorted.
"Pull over."
With a sigh, Stiles pulled over and parked in front of the other car. "I have a feeling we're gonna regret this." He opened the driver's-side door and stepped out; Scott followed.
As they walked up to the stopped car, Scott inhaled deeply, trying to catch a scent. Initially, he couldn't smell anything human; just the normal scents of the forest, along with the tang of rain from the clouds overhead.
"Why would somebody just leave their car here?" Stiles wondered, looking around.
Scott glanced around, feeling on edge for some reason. The thick pine trees on either side of the road were unnerving; it seemed as if anything could be concealed within them.
Walking around the car, Scott inhaled deeply. This time, he finally caught a scent; faint, maybe two or three days old, but present.
"They got out," he murmured.
Stiles turned to face him. "They?"
Scott nodded. "Yeah. I can smell two different scents." He glanced around, scenting the air. "They parked here, got out…" He turned to face the trees and raised his arm, pointing to a clearly visible hiking trail, running through the trees. "And they went that way."
"How long ago were they here?" Stiles asked. "Can you tell?"
"No, not exactly," Scott replied, shaking his head. "But the scent's pretty faint; no one's been here for at least two or three days, maybe longer."
"Who leaves their car on the side of the road for two or three days?"
"I don't know." Scott looked around again. "But I… I feel something. Something's not right about this place."
"Not right?" Stiles scowled. "Not right as in 'standard creepy forest', or not right as in 'oh my god we need to leave right now or some supernatural monster is going to rip our heads off'?"
Scott considered that for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know."
"Oh, that's great. Just great." Stiles groaned. "And we're gonna have to go in there and find them, aren't we?"
"No. You should stay here. It could be dangerous."
"Yeah, exactly," Stiles countered. "Which is why I'll be safer with a werewolf to protect me than I would be sitting back here on my ass waiting for you to get back. Plus, as much as I hate the idea of going in there, you're not going by yourself."
Scott looked at him for a moment, and then shook his head. "Fine. Let's go. But if anything happens, you run. Okay?"
"No problem," Stiles said with a chuckle. "Let's just do this already, so we can get out of this damn forest."
Stiles returned to the Jeep, pulling out two flashlights and extra batteries just in case those ran out. He locked the car doors and returned to Scott, handing him one of the flashlights. "It'll be dark in a couple of hours; if we haven't found them by then, we might need these."
Nodding in thanks, Scott took the flashlight, headed towards the trees and started along the trail, keeping his senses on full alert. Stiles followed, glancing around nervously.
Deep in the forest, something moved. Four long, black tentacles, which had been pressed lightly into the forest floor, retracted.
A head, bald, ghostly pale, and devoid of any facial features, lifted, turning its eyeless gaze slowly in the direction of the distant highway.
Someone new is here.
More prey have come.
Time to hunt.
The tall, black-suited figure's outline flickered, and it vanished into thin air.
Notes: And here we are again!
If anyone's wondering: yes, the car parked at the side of the road belongs to Tom and Steve, the two guys from the last chapter. So, it's their scent that Scott and Stiles are following. Just wanted to clarify, to make sure I didn't confuse anyone.
And, regarding the quote at the beginning of the chapter; that was an actual quote that I found on a website, from a woman who was recounting her encounter with an allegedly supernatural being, officially known as the Dark Watchers of the Santa Lucias. They're not connected to the classic Slenderman story, but I decided to incorporate them into the Slenderman mythology. So, if you're interested in learning more about that myth, I encourage you to look them up!
Shoutouts to GuardianOfMusic27855, vkdragonfire, and AnnaRamila for reviewing; you guys are awesome!
As always, I tremendously appreciate comments and feedback on my work, so if anyone has a question or comment regarding this chapter or the story as a whole, please review! (No hate, please).
See you all next time!