Chapter Six: Fae

Stiles had grown to become severely bored whenever the weekend came around. Mostly because all of his friends were off doing something; Scott with Allison (they'd recently got back together woohoo!) And…well, even if you considered any of the others his friends (he supposed Isaac was)… they never actually hung out with him on weekends anyway. So really, he was just bored because Scott had abandoned him for a rekindled romance.

He didn't blame Scott though; Stiles knew he himself probably would've done the same thing if Toby had decided to stay in town. But he hadn't. Which meant Stiles had no-one to hang with.

He would've considered working on the bestiary- but he had vowed to work off of info he himself had actually obtained…and Stiles hadn't actually run into any mythical creatures recently- which was a surprise given the insane amount of freaking things that appeared in their town. Like, seriously…even the girl he had a crush on since the third freaking grad turned out to be a banshee! Ugh!

So the bestiary was a no-go. Not that he hadn't tried to branch out a bit- he'd gone time and time again to Deaton, questioning him about Druids, but the man remained confusingly silent, telling Stiles in that vague 'I'm going to be intentionally mysterious' way he always seemed to use just to piss people off, that the information would eventually show itself to him- whatever that means.

So, in the meantime- Stiles had decided to grow himself a little project to work on over the weekends.

It involved a rubbish-bag full of sacrificial stuffed-teddy bears (preferable if wolves) a pair of high-res binoculars and hiking boots.

He'd explained it to a very confused Scott like this:

Werewolves mostly rely on their smell and hearing, and run through the woods (their usual hang-out to go and kill innocent woodland creatures) at break-neck speeds…which is why they get caught in hunter's traps so much.

Now, if, say -Stiles walked through the woods…going slowly and actually looking out for bear-traps and other such devices- he'd actually be able to find them and not get torn to shreds or cut in half via medieval sword.

He, of course, swore Scott to secrecy- knowing if any of the other wolves found out it would be less-likely he could convince them to let him act out his plan.

Stiles' plan, was basically dropping weighted, stuffed toy wolves onto highly concealed (but detected by him, because he actually looked thank you very much Scott) bear traps, trip wires, pressure plates, and sometimes he threw the wolves into motion sensors-that one was the most fun! Therefore rendering the traps useless until a hunter came along and reset them, which he'd timed to about every three days.

What worried him, though, was the fact that the Argents had retired from trying to kill Derek and Scott's packs - so why the Hell were there traps? He'd asked Allison about it, and she'd spoken to her dad. The message she'd relayed back to him had been that the Argents had nothing to do with it- but that they'd look into the situation, since this was hunting on their turf.

Until then, Stiles was perfectly happy with his stuffed-lupine sabotage.

He whistled as he walked through the woods-(a mid-afternoon session was always a fun time), happily swinging a bag of stuffed creatures over his shoulder.

Stiles had marked a trail where the most likely targets would be…but the hunters had seemingly noticed his sabotage, and had been constantly changing the location of their traps. It didn't matter that much to him though- it gave him more time to get rid of his boredom.

He changed from whistling 'jingle bells' to humming the song Tom Sawyer by Rush underneath his breath- just when he got to his favourite part- the part that left him breathless and happy- he noticed a patch of ground and leaves that was too well spaced out with leaves and twigs…and too high. A sign he'd come to notice, screamed 'TRAP!"

So, chuckling evilly, he paced over and dropped a nice, push wolf onto the pile of leaves- and sure enough, there was the tell-tale 'THUNK' of the jaws of a bear-trap closing on its victim.

Well, they had wanted to catch a wolf.

Stiles laughed at the joke- wondering what the hunter's looked like when they saw the presents he left for them. He bet the first time they'd found one- they'd sobbed like babies.

Oh well! On to the next trap!

And off he went, walking again and humming various merry tunes- reflecting the joy he'd grown accustomed to feeling every time he trolled hunters. It was on the fast track to becoming a favourite past-time…right up there with annoying the shit out of Peter Hale.

He only got a few more metres into the forest, though, when he heard a small scream- like the scream of a child.

"Hello?" Stiles called out, instantly worried.

He heard it again- yep, definitely a kid screaming, and definitely in pain.

What was a kid doing out here?

Did they get caught in one of the traps?

Ohshitohshitohshit.

Okay, so- search time Stiles! You can do it! Save the day, be a hero! Be a Scott!

He ran quickly over to where the crying originated, scanning with both his eyes and ears for a sign of the child he had heard. His breath ran quick- the adrenalin making him freak out.

Stiles soon found the source of the noise a few metres away, behind a grove of trees and in a small clearing…but it certainly wasn't the small child he had expected.

Pinned to a tree and dangling by a razor tipped arrow (probably set off by one of those motion sensors those stupid hunters had been leaving around carelessly) was….a small, winged creature?

It was distinctly female, and about the size of Stiles' forearm; Coffee skin, red lips, green, watery, pained eyes and long, flowing red hair that reminded him of Lydia's. It looked child-like though…so maybe it was a child to whatever species it was from? This creature was looking right at him, clenching her lips together in an obvious effort not to scream out.

The arrow was pinning her to a tree through one leaf-shaped, multi-coloured wing- making the creature dangle at least five feet above the ground. She looked extremely pained…and really young, and again- Stiles found himself hating hunters for their life choices.

"Are you okay?" Stiles exclaimed, rushing forward and dropping his bag of toys to the forest floor uncaringly.

"Stop!" The little creature warned, narrowing its eyes at Stiles- but also looking afraid.

"Don't come any closer!" It snapped. Its accent was indeterminate, but definitely not Californian- or a New York accent like Stiles' own, or of any country he'd ever heard actually

."I-I'm not going to hurt you." Stiles said slowly and softly, checking the small creature for further injuries with his eyes. He found none- thank God.

"How do I know you're not the one who did this to me?" the little thing snapped, glaring accusingly.

Stiles rolled his eyes and stepped forward, figuring there was only one way to do this.

Despite the small feminine creature's protests to not come any closer, and to get away- Stiles moved forward, and gently- ever so gently, removed the arrow from her trapped wing, cradling her in his arm so she wouldn't fall.

"See? I won't hurt you. Now- Are you okay?" He asked, setting her gently on the ground so that she didn't feel intimidated in his arms. He stepped back a bit also, just to be sure…and crouched down.

The creature looked at him for a long time, seemingly studying, and then, after, perhaps, a decision; nodded.

"I am only injured in my wing- but I might need some medical assistance, which I can't apply to myself since I used up all of my energy levels trying to hold myself up so my wing wouldn't tear." She sighed, looking down at the bleeding (it was freaking pink blood by the way!) appendage sadly.

"Uh- is there anyone I can take you to? I know this guy called Deaton? He knows about magical stuff…" Stiles muttered awkwardly, not really knowing what to do in situations like that- but understanding in himself that he had to help this girl…or thing, whatever she was.

"No! A human cannot help!" The creature scoffed, seemingly amused, and her pointy ears actually turned red in humour as her nose scrunched up in a funny expression.

"I need the help of my people." She said in a more serious tone- as she looked Stiles in the eyes with her own bright ones.

"Who are…?" Stiles asked encouragingly, actually wondering how the hell he even got into these messes and why it was always him.

"Fae- or Fairies. Obviously." The Fairy replied, rolling her slanted eyes.

Oh fuck Stiles' life.

Note:

So, I'm planning on making this a long fic- and filling it with heaps of mythical creatures. If any of you would like to suggest some, that would be awesome- and would also save me heaps of time scanning my brain to come up with monsters/ beasts- so comment if you have any! Thanks :D

Plus: Should I bring Toby back: Yes or No?