Shifted

7 - Roid Rage

Before heading home, Stiles stopped by the local library and checked out several books that had anything to do about werewolves. If there was a possibility that he was one, then he didn't want his searches to be tainted by the ridiculous werewolves in the Twilight series.

All afternoon Stiles read everything he could about werewolves, aconite, the full moon, and silver bullets. The longer he read, the worse he felt because all of his symptoms seemed to match the ones werewolves got.

If he was a werewolf, there was only one way to test it. Taking a knife from the kitchen downstairs, Stiles pressed the blade to his open palm and tried not to flinch when a long, deep cut has been made. Apparently, being a werewolf didn't make him immune to pain. He turned on the faucet and washed the blood off his hands. He watched in horror as the skin knit itself back together and the cut closed right before his eyes.

He looked at his unblemished hand and started freaking out. He could feel himself breathing unevenly. His palms started sweating and he was pretty sure he was about to have a panic attack. Closing his eyes, he tried to control his breathing and filled his mind with the look on his dad's face when he told him he was getting good at lacrosse.

Once he could breathe normally again. He got out his phone and called Scott to come over. Tonight was the full moon and he knew it would be dangerous for everyone around him. He needed Scott's help in tying him up and making sure he didn't hurt anyone.

He went back up to his room to internalize all the werewolf-y things he just found out. He had no idea how to proceed from here but he was going to try. He wouldn't let this turn him into a killer.

A knock on his door broke him out of his reverie and he opened it to find a smiling Scott McCall on the other side of the door.

"Look, I've been reading websites, books, all of these –"

"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked, amused.

"None Scott! But that's not the point. Okay? Just listen."

Scott threw his bag on the paper covered floor and sat on Stiles' bed, "Is it about the body? They find out who did it?"

"No, but that's not it okay!" Stiles flailed his hands around to emphasize his point.

"What then?" Stiles now had Scott's full attention. Scott wondered if this was when Stiles would tell him about how he suddenly got good at lacrosse.

"Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore." There was a hint of defeat at the end of Stiles' statement.

Scott didn't seem to get it so Stiles continued, "The wolf. The bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading, do you even know why a wolf howls?

Stiles stood up feeling agitated. He didn't know if it was Scott's stupidity or the fact that the full moon was hours away, but he was getting restless. So he started pacing.

"It's a signal. When a wolf's alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could've been nearby, maybe even a whole pack of 'em!"

"A whole pack of wolves?"

"No. Werewolves." Somehow just saying the word and imagining a whole pack of them in the woods made Stiles' skin itch and his heart beat just a little bit faster but he shook it off.

Scott on the other hand was getting mad. He thought Stiles was going to come clean right now, and here he was talking to him about werewolves!

"Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour."