Stiles knows this is a bad idea, it's probably the worst idea he's ever had and really, he's had a lot of bad ideas. Like, monumentally horrible ideas, but this one definitely takes the cake, because he's going into the woods again. Alone. With a huge ass wolf that could probably rip him apart with one tooth on the prowl. But Stiles has always been the curious type and he just cannot leave this alone.

It's unfortunate, really, that he's going to die so young, but it's for a good cause. Maybe he'll get some damn answers, maybe a mountain man will come crawling out of the side of the hills and apologize for letting his fucking horse sized dog rampage around the woods. So he drives to the edge of Winnie's street again because why not? It's not like he knows where the thing lives, though he assumes it's somewhere dark and damp and cave-like.

Stiles finds himself suitably lost after twenty minutes trekking aimlessly through the forest. And suddenly it hits him that yeah, this was the worst idea ever. If wolfy decides not to show he's shit out of luck, and probably going to be a mountain lion snack. Though...when he started thinking finding giant wolves was lucky he had no idea. So, after giving up on thinking that the thing was just going to find him, he starts yelling.

"HEY!" He yells, cupping his hands around his mouth in a way he hopes amplifies his voice. "WOLF...THING, I'M TRYING TO FIND YOU!" he drops his hands and waits, after a couple of minutes of absolutely nothing, he decides to start walking again. Somehow he doesn't think he's venturing towards his car because the trees are getting denser and the light is getting dimmer and he's getting anxious. He really didn't want to die in the woods, that was so not a cool way to die.

The moment he realizes that he's well and truly fucked is also consequently the moment he gives up. Heslides down the side of a tree and leans his head back against it. Cell towers should really be placed in the woods, that would be a huge help to all of society. His eyelids are feeling heavy, his feet hurt and he's about ready to start drinking sap when a familiar growl snaps him back to reality.

"Thank you god, or santa, or whoever," Stiles whispers because honestly, he'd prayed to both. He knows

greeting a giant wolf with a smile is well beyond the realm of crazy, but he's been there for a while.

"I really don't know if you can understand me," he says carefully, standing, "but I have a feeling that you do." he takes a few tentative steps closer because despite the evidence he really doesn't have a death wish. The wolf only stares at him.

"You kind of saved my ass in the woods the other night. Which makes me think you're capable of making rational decisions which is weird, but I mean you're also a five foot tall wolf so it's not that weird," he sighs, "Did you bite my friend?" he asks and wow, he never thought he'd see and animal managed to look confused.

"Okaaay," he drawls, "so that's a no. I just...we kind of thought he was going to die, I prepared a eulogy and everything, he was annoyed by that but," he rolled his eyes, "better to be prepared, y'know?" The wolf glared at him. Actually, literally glared and he took a deep breath. Now that he was close enough to the thing in, thankfully decent daylight, he could really inspect it. It had black fur covering a thick frame, he didn't know why he expected it's eyes to be brown but they weren't. They were blue, well, kind of a blue green, which was...weird.

"I'm kind of banking on the fact that you're not going to eat me," he continued, and the wolf huffed it's agreement. "Alright, awesome, so...I'm lost." he said and threw his arms about, "Can you like, sniff me my way to safety? Cause I'd really appreciate that, as well as not being eaten by a mountain lion." The wolf gave him one last hard look and began trotting away, Stiles quickly following along. He felt like he'd lost just a bit more of his sanity, considering he was talking to the wolf and it...it was definitely understanding him. Maybe it was magic, like...maybe it belonged to a witch. Maybe it was a Dire wolf, god, that would be so cool.

They walked alongside each other and Stiles talked, even if it was just to fill the silence. He talked about Scott and how he had a shit ton of blood on his clothes after that night, how he swore something had bit him but there was no mark. He talked about how he felt crazy talking to a wolf and his speculations on what the hell was going on, and how he wasn't exactly certain he wasn't insane.

"Can I call you fluffy?" he asked at one point and considering the growl he got in return he guessed it was a no, "alright, jeeze, no adorable names. Do you have a name? Is it like a wolf name in wolf speak?" he tried to growl, but it kind of just sounded like he was gurgling. The wolf paused for a moment and huffed before continuing on.

Before long the trees were growing further apart and Stiles could see the road ahead. He sighed in relief and continue walking when he realized the wolf was no longer at his side. He looked back at where he, (yes, Stiles decided it was a dude wolf, it didn't really seem like a girl) was, just concealed by the trees. Stiles jogged back and smiled.

"I'm totally a crazy person but you saved my life again and you definitely understand what I'm saying and that is so cool." before he could even think of what he was doing he reached out a hand and ruffled the fur on the side of the wolf's head. He went back to his car quickly after that, not even bothering to look back and kind of marveling at how his hand wasn't bitten off.

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He drove home and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Sunday was thankfully not fraught with danger because really, Stiles could only handle so much death defying in one weekend. Sunday was, however, fraught with video games and pizza rolls. And a bit of homework but that was no fun. Before he could really stop himself he was googling wolves.

Apparently the average weight of a grey wolf in the united states was 110 pounds. Well, his wolf was definitely upwards two hundred so there was no way he was going to find anything useful on the internet. His wolf was magical, that was it, it could understand him and it didn't eat him and that was definitely magic. He sighed and leaned back in his desk chair, unconsciously texting Scott an

'r u dead yet?' he was satisfied when Scott texted back 'kind of' and headed downstairs to make dinner.

As he and his dad ate their salads and chicken Stiles decided against telling his dad about the wolf again. Because his dad would probably get the rangers on it and then it would either be in captivity or dead and man, his wolf was way to cool for each outcome. So it was a bunch of him trying really, really hard not to accidentally mention something, and his dad looking at him like he was an invalid.

Which really, is kind of normal for Sunday night dinners.

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Monday came with Scott and whining.

"Dude, seriously, I think I lost my inhaler in the woods." he says, coming up to lean against Stiles' locker after second period.

"Ugh, Scott, can't you just get a new one?" he questions, groaning. He's definitely had enough of the woods for like, the rest of his life.

"No, man, my mom would kill me if the had to buy another one of those things, they're like 80 bucks." Scott has that pleading look on his face and Stiles is totally a sucker for it. He doesn't know how Scott does it but ever since they were kids he had this way of looking like a puppy that was kicked by you until you agreed to whatever he was trying to get you to do. And it always worked.

"Fine," Stiles groans, "But I swear if we get trampled again I'm leaving your ass in the woods." Scott nodded eagerly and Stiles slammed his locker shut and followed Scott to history.

They meet up again after school and Stiles glares at Scott a bit before driving out of the parking lot.

"I saw the wolf again." he says and Scott whips his head over to gape at him,

"What? How?" he gasps and Stiles shrugs, reluctant to admit that he had actually gone searching for it.

"The woods. Again. Near Winnie's house." he stares straight ahead as he says it, "I kind of...got lost. Dude, the thing really understands me. Like, there was recognition in his eyes which was actually really weird." he shrugs again, "I mean, he knew what I was saying and he got me out of the woods alive so.."

"You're such an idiot!" Scott cries, "It could've eaten you!"

"Yeah, that's the point!" Stiles argues, "he didn't eat me! I even touched his fur, it was really soft, dude-"

"Oh my god." Scott groans and Stiles laughs,

"You're just jealous because I totally made friends with him and you didn't,"

"I wouldn't really call it jealousy, dude," Scott points out. And that's that with the wolf talk. Scott spends the rest of the ride waxing poetic about the girl he gave a pen to in english class and how he was totally gonna ask her out. Stiles really doubts that but he encourages Scott anyway. Because that's what best friends are for.

They parked in about the same area as they had last time. Scott leads the way and Stiles really doesn't know how to react to that, Scott looks like he's following a trail or something.

"I've been feeling really weird, man." Scott says suddenly and Stiles pauses,

"Weird like how?" he asks "weird like sick?"

"No...just like, I don't know...I heard someone's phone ringing outside the classroom like it was right next to me and I can smell the gum in your pocket." he sniffs, "coconut mint, that gross shit you like."

"It's not gross!" Stiles says defensively, trudging after Scott, "And I don't have any-" he reaches into his pocked and produced a piece, "huh."

"See!" Scott says, looking a bit hysterical, "Maybe it's adrenaline or something. Maybe whatever bit me was infected."

"Yeah, dude," Stiles snorts, "With lycanthrope." he's smirking but Scott looks at him with absolute terror.

"Oh my god what? Is that like AIDS or something?" Stiles narrows his eyes at him,

"No, man, it's...I mean you might want to stay away from silver bullets is all." Scott pauses and then frowns at him.

"Werewolves, Stiles, really?" he sighs and then stops, kneeling down. "It was right here, we were right here." Stiles nods and gets down on all fours, searching through the foliage. He looks up and almost jumps to his feet because oh my god.

There's a dude standing right at the treeline just staring at them.

"Holy shit," he gasps and grabs at Scott's hoodie, pulling him to his feet.

"Uh, Hi?" Stiles calls out and the guy takes a few steps closer, both hands shoved in his leather jacket.

"This is private property," he says while glaring at the two of them like they've mortally offended him somehow.

"Uh...okay, sorry." Stiles stutters out and squints, because there's something really, weirdly familiar about the guy. He was pale and his hair was black and spikey and really, he was kind of attractive. Okay, he was ridiculously attractive, but he was also creeping, which kind of cancelled the attractive out.

"Who are you?" Scott asks and Stiles wants to smack him upside the head because his tone was awfully rude for addressing a creepy dude in the woods that was twice the size of him. And also kind of looked like a serial killer.

"Derek." the guy said and something clicked in Stiles, some past conversation with his dad that had been shoved into the 'not important' slot in his brain.

"Derek Hale?" he was asking before he could really stop himself, the guy, Derek, just gave a short nod before reaching into his pocket and chucking something at Scott.

Scott caught his inhaler and Derek turned on his heel and walked further back into the woods like a creepy lumberjack. He loped through the trees leaving Stiles staring at his back and fighting off a strange sense of deja vu.