The Stiles Experiment

Chapter 8

One year later-

Malia pushed a branch out of her way, doing her usual rounds of the woods that Scott had assigned her to once Stiles had left or rather, taken. Even though she would possibly never see him again, she wanted to do her part.

And then she caught a familiar scent near a patch of bush.

"That scent! Could it... it can't be. Stiles?" She realized, and started running toward the smell of a low, constant anxiety and a slight undertone of dog while calling out to him. "Stiles?! Are you out here?!"

She saw him. He was crouched down on the hill, looking almost completely different then how she saw him last winter. His clothes were dirty and tattered, he had the start of a beard from his cheeks down his chin, and he was shivering.

Fearing the worst, she gently called out his name.

"Stiles?"

His dark brown eyes filled with fear when they met hers, causing him to jump backwards. Panicked she held her hands in front of him, trying to calm him down.

"Hey, shh. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

He scooted backwards on his hands, clearly terrified of her as he stuttered through his shivers.

"Wh-who are you?"

Malia sighed, realizing she must have been mistaken in thinking this was her boyfriend and anchor. Due to the fact he looked different and that he didn't remember her she filed her thoughts away and introduced herself politely.

"My name is Malia Tate. I'm from the town outside of the woods. What's your name?"

"Thomas. My name is Thomas."

"Can you tell me what happened to you, Thomas?"

"Everything is still fuzzy." He lied, not wanting her to turn him in, before moving to hug his knees close to him, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

She noticed that he was uncomfortable and smiled softly, asking if he needed help.

"Is there a good place to stay around here?" the response was whispered.

"There's a hotel a couple miles from here. I'll take you… if you want." Malia offered before standing up. Thomas went to follow but almost fell backwards into a tree holding his side forcefully as if in pain. Quickly stepping in, Malia changed courses, "Tell you what. You sit here, I'll go get some help, alright?"

"Sure…" His attempted decline died in his throat, as she patted his knee and went towards town.

Adrenaline pumping and filled with fear that the authorities in this town would turn him in to W.C.K.D, he got up with a tingling numbness covering his body and ran as fast as possible in the opposite direction. With what was probably only a few minutes of running the ground under him gave out into an unexpected crevice. The adrenaline wore of and he saw black.

A few moments later saw him sitting up on his elbows, the feeling of massive pain waves flowed through his left leg and side. He looked at past his knee and almost vomited. A twisted and mangled left foot was sprawled and bleeding.

As anyone in that situation would, Thomas looked up and cursed toward the sky.

"Shit"

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Malia couldn't believe it. Part of her was still hopeful Stiles was in there, but she had to let the police know before she got her hopes up too high. Making the quick journey to the sheriff station she went where Noah was packing the squad car for the end of his shift. He glanced at her with a smile,