He takes the main road back to his car.

"Dad I'm serious, I saw something in the woods." Stiles says, because he is not crazy and there was

definitely something freaky running around out there. Right near Winnie's house.

"Stiles, there aren't any wolves in California." his dad tells him, sounding exasperated,

"Yeah, and it also hasn't been this cold in like, a hundred years apparently," he nearly shouts, desperate

to get his dad to listen. "I'm telling you, it was huge, it ran on all fours like a dog, dad, I'm not seeing

things." his dad sighs, sitting down across from him at the table and pushing a bowl of pasta towards him.

"Fine," he relents, "I'll look into it, Stiles, but if nobody else has filed reports there's nothing I can do about

it." Stiles nods, because at least his dad believes him...kind of. He totally plans on telling Scott, though,

Scott will definitely believe him.

xxxxxx

So there aren't any wolves in California. There hasn't been in over 60 years and Stiles is imagining things.

There is, however, a dead body. And in Stiles' book that trumps imaginary giant wolves any day. So he

goes to Scott's house, and drags him away.

"Stiles," Scott wheezes as they're trudging through the woods in the general area that he'd heard his

dad's deputy mention, "Do you even know where it is?"

"Yes," Stiles deadpans, "that's why we've been out here for a freakin' hour looking, y'know I even had a

map showing-" he cuts off with a snicker when Scott thumps him on the back of the head. They continue

walking until there's a sudden chill down his spine that makes him stop in his tracks. There's a low

rumbling, almost vibrating sound and his heart thuds in his chest.

"Did you hear that?" he whispers to Scott, who's frozen by his side. He swears he heard the growl again,

a low rumble that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Scott just shakes his head,

"Hear what?" he asks, and then stops because there's definitely something. They hear twigs snapping

and then there are deer, running at top speed straight at them, loping around and jumping. Stiles shouts

and jumps back, landing on his ass as his hands come up to cover his head. When the thunderous noise is

gone and Stiles can't hear any more coming, he uncurls himself and looks up.

Scott's gone. Like, really, really gone. Stiles stands up instantly.

"Scott!" he screams, completely aware that he's giving himself away to anything and everything lurking

around in the dark. He moves forward on instinct, looking around for anything that could lead him to Scott,

a shoe, his inhaler, anything.

"Scott!" he yells again, starting to panic because Scott is not answering. And then he hears it, the low

growl. His breath is caught in his throat and he closes his eyes tight when he hears a sniff from directly

behind him. He doesn't move. There's a pressure on his neck and he hopes to god it isn't teeth. There's a

snuffling noise and Stiles doesn't want to turn around, he really doesn't, but his body doesn't seem to

agree because before he can stop himself he's whirling around to face the wolf. His heart is thundering in

his chest and the wolf looks almost surprised, but it's not eating him yet so he considers it a victory. It

brings it's head down minutely and sniffs at him again before making a low whining sound in it's throat

and...nudging him. Talk about surreal. The wolf nudges at him again and almost kind of yips and Stiles is

gone. He calls Scott's name all the way back to the jeep, where the bastard is leaning against it with a

sweaty grimace.

"Stiles, we need to go." he says, his voice sounding rough and strained. And though he kind of wants to

slap Scott for leaving him, Stiles couldn't agree more.

Once they're in the safety of the jeep, Stiles immediately wants to start talking, to fill the silence, to

distract himself, to tell Scott everything, he hasn't decided yet, but his voice is choked off when he sees

Scott. He's leaning against the window, his arm draped around his middle, his hair is stuck to his forehead

with sweat.

"Dude...Scott, are you okay?" Scott shakes his head, wincing

"I have to go home," he insists and Stiles drives. He allows the silence just until it gets to be too much,

until he feels like if he doesn't fill it with something he might start crying.

"I wonder what those deer were running from, I mean, there were like thirty of them." he shakes his

head, "they could've been running from the wolf-"

"There aren't any wolves in California." Scott butts in and Stiles groans,

"Uh yes, there are, and apparently they're the size of horses, Scott, I saw it tonight. It came right up and

sniffed me." Scott turns his head to level Stiles with a look that clearly says you're crazy.

"what the hell are you talking about?" Scott asks, staring blankly at Stiles,

"I told you about what happened on the way to Winnie's, dude!" he cries, "C'mon, man, if I can't trust you

to believe me, then I might as well just go check myself into a funny farm."

"I don't know, giant wolves sounds a bit too..."

"Too what?" Stiles asks sharply, preparing himself to be offended, because Scott's really good at doing that.

"Fairytale?" Scott shrugs and Stiles whips his head around to gawk at him,

"Really?" Stiles says, his voice rising an octave "cause I was thinking more along the lines of nightmarish.

The Hound of Baskerville, Cujo, The Grim from Harry- okay, you know what, I saw a giant wolf and you

have to believe me because you're my best friend." Stiles says and Scott's quiet for a moment.

"Cujo wasn't really a wo-" Scott begins and Stiles immediately cuts him off,

"SCOTT."

Stiles peeks over and a weight is lifted off his chest. Scott doesn't look like he's going to throw up anymore

and his hand is no longer clutched around his middle.

They get back to Scott's house and Stiles walks him up to his door.

"Are you okay?" he asks, cause Scott really did look like shit earlier "I mean, you looked pretty bad, should

we have gone to the hospital?" . Scott frowns, but shakes his head.

"Yeah, it's weird, I mean...I swore something bit me earlier." Stiles' eyes go wide,

"Bit you? Dude! Where? You could have rabies or something oh my god-" he's rambling and Scott's moving

his hoodie back to reveal a big, wet patch of blood on his side. "Oh dear god," Stiles whispers as Scott

pulls up his shirt to reveal...nothing.

There's nothing there. Not a scratch. Certainly nothing that would suggest a furry little beast had sunk it's

teeth into him. Scott looks up, visibly confused, and also a bit terrified.

"Maybe it's not your blood?" Stiles offers weakly, because they both know that's total bullshit and that's

totally Scott's blood.

"No, it's mine. There were bite marks on me earlier, I swear." he says, looking back down to his side, "they were huge, too."

"Okay." Stiles nods, because he's trying to sound calm. "Well, now there aren't. I mean, isn't that good?

You aren't dying." Scott nods like Stiles has just given him a complete, scientific, plausible explanation for

why there's a ton of blood and no wound. "I...I should stay over tonight." Stiles says and Scott nods again.

"Yeah, yeah you should."