September 1 — Outside Beacon Hills High School
Stiles stood across the street from Beacon Hills High, hands in the pockets of his jacket, eyes tracking every movement around the building without looking like he was doing it.
Old habit.
The school looked exactly how he remembered it. Same brick walls. Same cracked steps. Same sense that something bad liked to linger just out of sight.
If Scott didn't get bitten…
That thought had followed him all the way back to Beacon Hills, riding shotgun beside every mile marker and road sign.
Because this time, Stiles hadn't been there.
No late-night panic.No dragged-along best friend.No stupid decision to go looking for a body.
The original trigger was gone.
And that terrified him more than any monster ever had.
Because if Scott hadn't been bitten, then everything Stiles had prepared for — everything he'd sacrificed for — would hit Beacon Hills unopposed.
He shifted his weight, eyes flicking to the school doors again.
But if he did…
Then Scott was already changing.
Stiles had watched hundreds of transformations over the years. Studied the patterns. The tells. The mistakes people made before they even realized something was wrong.
He could spot it.
He just needed to see Scott.
The bell rang inside the school. A few minutes later, students began spilling out — laughing, talking, complaining about homework like the world wasn't sitting on a fault line.
Stiles didn't care about any of them.
Then Scott stepped out.
Stiles felt it immediately.
Not relief. Not panic.
Confirmation.
Scott moved differently. Lighter. More aware. His head turned slightly, like he was hearing things no one else could.
Alpha bite. Less than twenty-four hours old.
Stiles stayed still.
Scott scanned the parking lot absently, distracted, clearly overwhelmed by everything happening inside his own body. His eyes passed over Stiles once.
Didn't register.
Then something clicked.
Scott turned back sharply.
His eyes locked onto Stiles like his brain had finally caught up.
He stopped walking.
Just stood there, staring.
Stiles pushed off the wall and crossed the street.
Scott blinked once. Then again.
"…Stiles?"
"Hey," Stiles said.
Scott stared at him like he was afraid he might disappear if he blinked too hard.
"You're—" Scott swallowed. "You're back."
"Yeah."
"When did— how—" Scott shook his head, clearly overwhelmed. "You didn't say you were coming back today."
"I didn't want to distract you on your first day."
Scott huffed a short laugh. "Too late for that."
They stood there for a second, the noise of other students fading into background static.
Scott took another step closer, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Stiles.
"You look… different."
Stiles smirked faintly. "You should see yourself."
Scott frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you finally stopped slouching."
Scott snorted, tension easing just a little.
Then he stepped forward and pulled Stiles into a quick, solid hug — brief, firm, familiar. No hesitation. No awkwardness.
Stiles returned it once, then stepped back.
Good. Enough.
Scott looked at the car behind him.
"…Is that yours?"
"Yeah."
Scott stared at it longer. "Since when do you drive cars that cost more than my house?"
"Long story."
Scott raised an eyebrow. "I've got time."
"Not here," Stiles said calmly.
Scott opened his mouth to argue, then paused.
Something crossed his face — confusion, unease.
"Hey, uh…" Scott hesitated. "Can I ask you something weird?"
Stiles nodded. "You already are."
Scott lowered his voice. "Did anything… strange happen to you last night?"
Stiles felt his stomach tighten — not from surprise, but from precision.
Right on schedule.
"Why?" he asked evenly.
Scott rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. I just feel… off. Like everything's louder. Sharper."
Stiles studied him carefully.
"Did you get hurt?" he asked.
Scott hesitated. Too long.
"…Maybe," Scott admitted. "But it's nothing. Probably just stress."
Stiles nodded once.
Confirmed.
"Come on," Stiles said. "Let's get out of here."
Scott followed without question.
They walked side by side, the silence comfortable but loaded.
"You staying for good?" Scott asked finally.
"Yeah."
Scott let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"Good," he said simply.
They stopped near the car. Scott glanced at it again, then back at Stiles.
"You're not gonna disappear again, are you?"
Stiles met his eyes.
"No," he said. "I'm here."
And this time, it wasn't a promise he hoped he could keep.
It was one he'd trained for.
As Scott climbed into the passenger seat, Stiles took one last look at the school.
Beacon Hills hadn't changed.
But he had.
And whatever had bitten Scott last night—
It had just made a very serious mistake.