Lost --(Discontinued)--

"What The Hell"

Scott didn't know where Stiles could've gone. He didn't have a chance to text or call him every since he shot one of them.

Ever since he shot Malia.

It hasn't been easy. Malia has been in the hospital, trying to recover. The bullet when straight through, and Malia was healing quickly.

Now it was time to find Stiles.

Scott didn't want to go to his house, but it seemed like there was no other option. Stiles wasn't answering any of the calls or texts or emails. It was like he evaporated into thin air.

Scott decided to go see Stiles's house. When he knocked on the door, the Sheriff opened it.

"Hey, Mr. Stilinski. Can I talk to Stiles?" Scott asked.

"Stiles has been in his room, locked up, all day," he answered, a sad look on his face.

"I can get him out." Scott entered the house and ran upstairs. He stopped in front of the door to Stiles's room.

Scott looked at the Sheriff and said, "May I?" Mr. Stilinski nodded. Scott twisted the doorknob until it broke, and the door opened.

Scott was expecting to see his best friend on his bed or on the floor somewhere, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Why isn't he here?"

"He was, I swear."

Scott looked around the room. Everything seemed normal. He walked around. Nothing looked out of place.

But then he saw it.

There was a note on Stiles's bed, and Scott recognized the handwriting as his best friend's.
He picked it up.

His heart dropped once his eyes read what was written on the crumpled piece of paper.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stiles's eyes flashed open and sunlight poured into them. He squinted and groaned. He could feel the hard ground beneath him, and for a second he forgot where he was.

But then the memories of everything came rushing back, and Stiles sighed.

It's been less than 48 hours and Stiles has already eaten almost all of his food supply. He had an apple and a water bottle left.

He rubbed his eyes. I can do this. I just need to find...something, anything. I'm not going back to that town.

Stiles leaned against a tree, staring into the woods, when he heard a rustle behind him. Stiles gasped and jumped to his feet. He stood up so fast that he tripped and fell backwards, facing the direction where the sound came from.

He scooted backwards until his back hit another tree. He tried to steady his breathing so that no extra sound to give him away would escape his mouth.

After a while, there was nothing, and Stiles was sure that whatever it was, was gone. But then, out of nowhere, a dark wolf jumped out from the bushes. It landed a few feet from Stiles, staring him right in the eye.

Stiles was terrified. He yelled, and was on his feet and running in milliseconds. The wind was slapping his face as he sprinted through the shrubs. He could feel the wolf behind him, so close to catching him. He kept running.

Stiles was starting to get tired, and the wolf took advantage of that. It jumped on Stiles, tackling him to the ground. Stiles thrashed and did anything in his power to throw the animal off. The wolf growled loudly.

Stiles stopped. He panted as he tried to catch his breath. Scratches and bruises from the fall covered his face and body.

Once he calmed down, he flipped onto his back. The wolf was on all fours, looking at him. Stiles moved back a little. The wolf didn't seem to want to attack. In fact, it looked peaceful. It slowly walked towards Stiles, sniffing him.

Stiles kept calm. He didn't want to do anything to make the wolf panic and freak out. It nudged Stiles's leg with its head, and Stiles laughed, surprising himself.

He lifted his hand and inched it towards the wolf's head. He hesitated at first, but finally felt the soft fur on his hand. Stiles ran it through the wolf's fur. The feeling was amazing. He smiled.

After a few minutes, the wolf backed away from Stiles and laid down on the grass. It rested its head on its paws, looking around.

Then it started growling louder and louder.

Stiles was getting nervous. He wasn't sure what was happening. The wolf was so noisy now, Stiles was sure it woke up the whole forest for miles. It was howling.

Then, Stiles could only stare at what was happening in front of him. The wolf was transforming into a shape of a human. It's fur was disappearing, and a white shirt took its place. Legs grew out, covered with pants.

At last, there was a man lying in the grass where the wolf was a second ago. He raised his head. He was pretty good-looking, with a bit of a stubble on his face, a few scratches on his neck. He stared at Stiles with intensity.

"What the hell?" Stiles exclaimed.