After practice, Scott, Stiles and Jamie went back to the woods. They were looking for Scott's inhaler, that he had lost the night before. They drove to the Preserve and started their hike, taking in their surroundings.
When it wasn't a theater of bizarre events, the Beacon Hills Preserve was a rather peaceful place. One could go there and enjoy a nice walk, following one of the many paths that lead between the trees. Hiking there, you could stumble upon a small stream, hear the chirping of birds or simply enjoy a retreat away from the city. If a wanderer was to walk all the way to the lookout point, they would see all of Beacon Hills before their eyes.
They could look at the come and go of cars and people, although from such a distance they would all appear small, almost insignificant. The river cut the town in half, separating the city center from the quieter, more residential area. The most animated neighborhood was just East of the river. The hospital was located at its heart; it was always surprisingly busy for such a small town. West of the river was where the bigger houses were placed, some of them almost reaching the treeline that outlined the Preserve.
The teenagers were not alone in the woods. A man was watching them from afar. He was tall, and had a look of weariness, although he was only in his early twenties. He was standing next to a tree, unmoving, his attention on the teens crossing the stream. He was intimidating, dressed in black, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched. He seemed focused; he was observing the teens.
The smallest one had a face covered in moles and captivating, whiskey-colored eyes. He was gesturing wildly as he spoke, his arms flailing around in the most improbable ways. He was talking rapidly and voicing thought after thought without pause. He made one of his friends laugh lightheartedly.
This other one's most striking features was his eyes. They were a piercing blue and held a constant air of slight boredom, as if the teen was never fully awake. Dark blond hair rested on top of his head and he was by far the most smartly-dressed of the three. Although laughing, his eyes rested on the third member of the little group, monitoring his reaction.
The third one did not seem the least amused at whatever had his friends laughing. He had the most muscular frame of the trio. His dark black hair whipped around his face as he shook his head at his friends, narrowing his brown puppy eyes in fake anger. He had an air about him, an air that said that you could count on him, that anyone would be lucky to have him as a friend.
The mysterious man cocked his head to the side, straining his ears to understand what they were saying. Their voices reverberated against the trees. The topic of their conversation was quite peculiar.
"I don't know what it was. I mean I felt like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball," the bushy-haired one explained. "And that's not the only weird thing. I can hear stuff that I shouldn't be able to hear, like-"
"Like this morning, when you heard Allison say she didn't have a pen?" the blue-eyed one interrupted.
"Exactly!" the muscular one answered, while the third teen had a look of realization on his face, as if he had just understood something. "And I can smell things! Like the mint gum in Stiles' pocket."
The smaller teen, Stiles, as the man in black had just learned, reached in his pocket. He had a look of disbelief as he retrieved a mint gum from his jacket. "Scott, how'd you do that?"
Scott shrugged, as if he did not know what to say. "It all started with the bite."
"What if it's your body reacting to the wound? Like some kind of infection?" the third boy offered.
"Oh you're right, Jamie, it's an infection," said Stiles, a mischievous look slowly appearing on his face. "In fact, I think I've heard of this before. It's a very specific kind of infection."
Scott looked worried, while Jamie looked intrigued; he had not missed the look on Stiles' face and was wondering where his explanation was going.
"You're serious?" asked Scott, genuinely believing his friend had valid information to offer.
"Yeah. I think it's called lycanthropy," Stiles stated with a solemn look. Jamie just scoffed, while Scott appeared increasingly worried.
"What is it? Is it bad? It sounds bad..." the words left Scott's mouth hurriedly; the boy was clueless.
"It is. But only once a month," Stiles explained. Jamie decided to join in on the joke, and added, "On the night of the full moon." Both teens then howled, while Scott looked unimpressed.
"You're asses. Both of you."
"You're the one who heard a wolf howling!" Stiles countered, raising his hands to appear innocent.
"And come on, Scott, be glad it was a wolf. Imagine if it'd been like... a raccoon, or something. That'd make you a were-raccoon, how ridiculous is that?" Jamie laughed.
"Yeah, I mean what would your powers be?" Stiles added. "Maybe you'd get super good at washing food, you know, like raccoons do with their little paws?"
"Oh it's adorable when they do that!" Jamie exclaimed, eyes sparkling in excitement. "Or he'd just go around town and overturn people's trash!"
Stiles and Jamie were laughing loudly. Scott looked completely fed up with his friends. "Come on guys, it' not funny. I brought you here to help me find my inhaler, not to make fun of me! Plus there could be something seriously wrong with me!"
"We know! You're a werewolf!" Stiles kept going, adding in a growl for comical effect.
"Don't worry, the full moon's on Friday, you'll know for sure then," Jamie added, still smiling.
The teens kept on walking, talking as they move between the trees. The mysterious man was still watching them, a look of disapproval on his face. They had now reached the top of a small hill and were all looking at the ground. They were visibly searching for something. The man frowned and decided it was time to reveal his presence. He marched towards them, standing tall.
"What are you doing here? Huh? This is private property!"
The three teens simply stood there, too stunned to speak. Stiles finally found his voice. "Sorry man, we didn't know," he finally answered.
"We were just looking for something," Scott added. "Forget it."
"Sorry to bother you," Jamie added for good measure.
The man's eyes flickered to Jamie. There was something about this teen, something familiar. The man quickly dismissed the thought and threw an object at Scott who caught it without thinking. It was his inhaler. By the time Scott raised his head, wanting to thank the stranger, he couldn't find him. The man had simply vanished.
"Guys, that was Derek Hale! You remember, right? He's just a few years older than us," Stiles explained. The name seemed familiar to the other teens, but they couldn't remember why. Jamie was stroking his chin as he explained, "It kinda rings a bell... maybe we saw the name on the news?"
"Yeah, because of his family," Stiles said, his voice softening as he kept talking. "His entire family died in a fire about ten years ago."
"What's he doing back?" Scott asked. Since he had his inhaler back, he started moving towards the path leading to Stiles' Jeep, that they had left at the Preserve's entrance. The others followed, Stiles still trying to figure out the reason behind Derek Hale's return.
"I guess we'll never know," Jamie sighed. Looking at his watch, he frowned. "Scott, shouldn't you head to work?"
"Yeah, and I don't want to be late so let's hurry."
The teens proceeded through the woods, much more silently than earlier that afternoon. They all were mulling over the recent events, trying to understand what was happening to Scott. Stiles' thoughts drifted back to the body. The second half of it, that Scott had found by accident, had disappeared. Questions were forming inside the hyperactive kid's head. Was the murder connected to Scott being bitten? Also, why was Derek Hale back in Beacon Hills? Could he have something to do with the murder? If he had the inhaler, did it mean he had found the body as well? Was he the one who had moved it? The timing of it all was suspicious, and Stiles strongly believed Derek Hale was involved, if not responsible for it all.
Before he could pursue that line of thought, the small group reached the spot where his Jeep was parked. The teenagers had agreed that Stiles would drop off Scott at the animal clinic first, then get Jamie back to the Tate farm. As soon as Scott got out the car, he headed towards the small building that was the animal clinic. He wanted to become a veterinarian so he put a lot of time and effort into his job at the clinic. His boss, Alan Deaton, was a man that inspired confidence; he had a reassuring presence. He always had a spark in his eyes, as if he knew something that others ignored.
Stiles and Jamie were still outside the building, the Jeep's engine running. The car turned around, and they drove off to the Tate farm. Both teens had a lot on their mind. Jamie was the first to speak.
"I was thinking, about what's happening to Scott," he started, while Stiles had his eyes fixated on the road. "It's all very confusing. I've been looking for a rational explanation but I can't find any. I thought about telling his Mom, since she's a nurse, but then we'd have to explain exactly how Scott got bitten and I don't think she'll like our story one bit," the teen guessed. He shook his head, debating what to do, "Then again, we're talking about Scott's health, here. So isn't worth it to, you know, tell his mother, face the music but know he'll be fine in the end?"
Stiles took a moment to think. His friend had a valid point. However, Stiles had never been a fan of involving other people in his and his friends' business, especially adults.
"You know what, I'll do some research. If I can't find anything, we'll get help, okay?" Stiles decided. Jamie nodded in agreement.
The rest of the ride was quiet, the teens only exchanging small talk. They soon reached the Tate farm. Jamie got out of the car, waved Stiles goodbye, and quickly entered his house. His father wasn't home; he was probably working, or hiking in the woods. The teen sighed as he sat on his bed. The reason behind his worry for Scott was that he was scared of losing someone he cared about again. His mother and little sister had been taken away from him, along with his twin; Scott and Stiles were the closest thing he had to siblings. They were always here for him; they had helped him get out of a world of darkness.
So that day, Jamie vowed to always help Scott, no matter what was thrown their way.