Settle in kiddies. You're staring down the barrel of 14 finished chapters. Working on fifteen. And no end in sight.

*smirks* Buckle up bitches. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.

Guest: Nope, Scott is not yet a werewolf. The story actually starts pre-series technically, Beginning the morning of the night the show starts on. That is why I have them in the preserve getting drunk in place of body hunting, since Sheriff Stilinski isn't around for Stiles to have over heard about the body.

RIP Sheriff Stilinski... Or is it? No, he's dead. I'm just an ass.

(Chapter first rewritten 2/2/19, AN not changed except to update reply to guest to current reply format!)

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They were a fifth, maybe a fourth of the way through a bottle of Jack, most of which was Stiles' doing, and Scott had to say he was already at least slightly tipsy. They hadn't even been there that long, two short swigs by Scott, two long ones by Stiles- they hadn't even talked yet. "Your guardians seem... okay…"

"Okay...? Satanism, necromancy, and salting thresholds, Scott? You don't have to lie, I know they're crazy fuckin' weird, dude. I also met them." Stiles laughed.

"Well, yeah, but I mean they seemed… nice. At least they aren't like the nightmare foster home, adoption stories you see on like Law & Order." Scott was sat on a rock, Stiles laying down next to it. This was how they always arranged themselves when they came up here, whether they were drinking, smoking, at some kind of gathering here, or just hanging out. Scott knew Stiles was fond of it but he honestly didn't know how bright of an idea it was to get drunk in the woods this late at night. 'What could possibly happen? Get attacked by a vampire?' That's what they always say in the movies. And what happens? Sounds stupid, sure, but sometimes life was just a bundle of stupid movie clichés strung out like a string of paper dolls. Like having your cop dad die in the line of duty, and not being told how or anything, not even getting to see his body, and being suddenly adopted by some weird couple from out of state before you even got his ashes. Scott understood why Stiles wanted to get drunk one last time before they got thrown back into school, so Scott let himself get dragged along, even if he didn't really like alcohol much. It burned more than it numbed for him. His throat and his state of being. But as long as he was with Stiles, it was more than fine. It was nice to have drinking together be a normal thing again.

"No, they're the innocent crazy couple that sacrifices goats in their basement." Stiles muttered amusedly, clearly just riffing, but hitting on gold. Scott looked at him dumbstruck, having almost forgotten what they were talking about, before they both began to laugh.

"They totally are! Gosh..." Scott said, laughing more than was probably earned. "I seriously almost forgot they were a couple! They don't act like you said at all. More like best bros." Stiles gave a gentle whack in response.

"They do seem like an odd couple though, right? I mean, they're both so…stoic and stiff, and gruff and manly." Stiles said the last part in a mocking way as if at just the idea of gruff-manliness, then snickered, seeming dazed. "I mean they kinda banter like a couple I guess… But like they talked about each other so lovey dovey on the phone, but they weren't affectionate at... Like all? It was so jarring. Almost hard to believe they're the same people…" Stiles rambled devoid of animosity, just observing. That was something he always really liked about Stiles. He was good at just calling things as they were without coming off genuinely judgmental.

"Was it just me or was Dean mega uptight about his car?" Scott asked randomly, enjoying the levity and good natured gossip and teasing.

"UGH! Absolu'ly!" Stiles blurted once he swallowed another long sip, apparently having noticed the same as him. "Dude's overcompensating so much ' could hardly believe he was out, the s'ereotyp'cal masssculinity is insane…" He murmured, probably enjoying the warmth in his stomach. "Must be a boomer thing."

"But the guy wearing the trench coat…?" Scott grinned.

"Oh, I KNOW!" Stiles cackled loudly, putting his hand over his face. Scott plugged one of his ears but smiled. Stiles deserved a good laugh. There was a bit of silence before Stiles talked again. "I still like him, dhough...He's kinda like you…" Scott gave a little giggle at that thought.

"Oh yeah?" Scott asked, entertaining his drunk friend.

"Yeah, doesn't always get what people are saying, kinda awkward," Stiles said with a funny smiling face. "You seem nicer though, least in pers'n… A big ol' sweetheart…" Stiles paused, and when Scott looked back down at him, Stiles was staring back in a warm, guilty looking way that made him worry a bit about what he was about to say. "Thanks for this, Scott. 'Ey, I know you're worked up about Lacrosse tomorrow. I'll go out for it with you, if it'll make you com-more comfit-" Stiles giggled, trying to get his words in order. "Make you feel better…" He said it a bit serious, but Scott couldn't take any offers from Stiles when he was like this.

"If you want to tomorrow, I'll have your back." Scott patted Stiles on the chest, partially because it seemed like he was about to pass out. Stiles smiled up at him cheekily.

"I'm gonna do it ten- Then." Stiles giggled and Scott rolled his eyes as he got up, smiling.

"I'm going to go use the... trees… Turn on your side so you don't choke on your vomit. And watch out for predators."

"Dude! Predators?" Stiles scoffed at him. "We're in the middle of nowhere… Noone's comin' out dis late but-... Prarrish tonigh' I thing? And he'ss not a predator... God, he could predat-... pre-date me..." Stiles giggled again.

"I meant animals, Stiles." He corrected, smiling. It was cute seeing him happy for once.

"A'mals?" How Stiles gave him such an incredulous look in his state was beyond Scott.

"Animals, yes."

"Ann-im-alls…" Stiles barely managed to roll his eyes, turning away from the fire toward the woods as requested. "Shure, bud."

"Animals are dangerous, Stiles. A house cat will eat your corpse before you go cold." Scott started walking into the woods, palming his inhaler and his phone in his pocket.

"Thank God there aren't any cats out here then!" Stiles called after him. "Mountain lions and coyotes ate 'em all!" He giggled, but that just made Scott worry.

He walked for a while until he could just barely see the light of the fire barrel. He had to take a puff off his inhaler after he'd done what he needed, to prepare himself for the trek back. Putting it back in his pocket, it missed the hole and fell to the forest floor, rolling down a hill he hadn't even noticed next to him. He chased after it. He was fairly certain he wouldn't fall, given his familiarity with the terrain, having grown up playing in this very forest, but he watched his feet anyway, in case there was an unexpected root, or the little alcohol he'd had decided to kick in at the worst possible moment. He bent down to pick it up where it had finally stopped. He paused to brush it off on his pant leg. He only noticed softly padding footsteps turn into crunching a moment before something caught him by the sweatshirt, as if it meant to tackle him before he'd bent down, aimed too high, and then tried to grab him anyway. Regardless of the misstep, it did manage to throw him to the ground, and there he was staring up at some… thing, instead of the mountain lion he expected to find. It looked like some kind of dog or wolf, but was bigger and way scarier and it had…. Hands! Scott panicked and looked around for a branch as he struggled against its grabbing, he looked beside him and saw open, peering, dead eyes. Literally dead. There was a dead woman next to him. He turned his attention to the beast closing in, now lumbering above him and, not knowing what else to do, he jabbed it in both of its red eyes, like his mom had taught him for self defense. But that worked; it let go of him, grabbing at its face, and shook its head. Scott took off towards the car before he could think. But what if Stiles wasn't conscious, or able to jump up and run? He couldn't get him in the Jeep before that thing ripped them both to shreds. It was going to follow him, and he had to lead it away. He swiftly turned and ran as fast as he could toward the road. He did his best to scream for help, but the best he could muster was a shout, unable to get a decent breath. He hadn't managed to grab his inhaler and he sure could have used it now. That thing was already following him. Fuck, it was so much faster than him... But Scott was smaller than it, somehow, and thanks to forced cross country track he had no problem swishing quickly through the tightly placed trees, even if he couldn't get a full breath in his lungs while doing it without his whole chest aching. Toward the road the trees were thinner, and the last stretch was basically open with no obstacles. His only chance was to pull the best sprint he could and try to get the attention of a car he hoped he heard approaching. He almost made it when he felt a set of teeth sink into his side and he howled in pain. He spun, fell to his back, and kicked it as he rolled with the force of the attack, pushing it off him, making it stumble back into the road on two legs, stumbling backwards like a person. The approaching SUV hit it going at least 40, throwing his attacker a few feet up the road and earning itself an awful dent in the hood. The huge canine creature didn't miss a beat though, running off almost immediately, so fast he wondered if the people in the vehicle had seen it. He didn't get a chance to ask, as they stopped for only a moment. They tore off as Scott tenderly started to push himself up off the ground. Fine with him, he supposed, as long as that awful creature had been scared off. He needed to get back to Stiles and quickly at that.