Not A Boring Night Hike!
Not A Boring Night Hike!
*
Stiles was exhausted to the point of preferring Finstock's suicide runs. Why he had thought it a good idea to accompany his friends out into woods on the night of the full moon was beyond him. It was barely past midnight and his throat hurt from his harsh breathing, his calves burnt like fire and, oh, how he wanted to kick himself for ever thinking he could keep up with his friends. Who were a couple of hundred yards ahead, merrily chasing one another, like playing wolfy tag or something. It was kind of cute to watch, Stiles had to admit. He was even catching up on them when the weres rolled the gentle slope back down, with leaves and tiny twigs sticking to their hair. Which, inevitably, led Stiles to his next question: Why was his shifted girlfriend rolling around the woods with an equally shifted Derek Hale? Well, yeah, that had been his idea, too. Right. Now he remembered.
He collapsed on a rock, rubbed his aching legs and observed the weres roughhousing. Despite the growling and snarling, it was peaceful, in a Beacon Hills twisted sort of way. Stiles leaned back and was about to call it a job well done.
Of course, that was when Malia and Derek froze, scented the air and slowly turned in Stiles' direction.
“Don't tell me you heard something!” Stiles demanded, pulling his zip-up hoodie tighter around himself.
“I heard something,” Malia said with a wicked grin.
“Not funny,” Stiles pouted and frowned at Derek. “What is it?”
Derek's nose twitched a little. That was not a good sign.
“I don't know. Just that the sound was coming from behind you.” Derek brushed passed him and carefully climbed down the short but rocky drop-off.
“I hate it when he doesn't know shit...” Stiles grumbled and followed.
*
Three minutes later they had located the source of the sound in a narrow crevice.
“It smells like deer,” Malia commented as Stiles flashed the light of his phone along the rocks.
“It smells like blood,” Derek corrected and crossed his arms. “The crevice is too small for a deer anyway.”
“I can't smell nor see anything.” Stiles squinted into the shadows, but to no avail.
“Just let me!” Malia pushed him aside and reached into the darkness, only to pull back with a yelp. “Fuck!” She cursed and hugged her right hand to herself. “The little shit stung me!”
“Stung you?” Stiles repeated and took a look at Malia's hand which had already healed. Couldn't have been that bad.
“I don't know...” Malia sighed and threw a glance over Stiles' shoulder, making him turn around.
“Derek? If you get stuck in there, I'll take a pic and show it to everyone. Understand?”
But Derek was already giving up and stepping back from the tiny opening in the rocks.
Stiles 'tsk'ed and pressed his phone into Derek's hands.
“Light the way, okay?” He said, crouched down and squeezed himself into the crevice.
Surprisingly, the space widened after a few feet and Stiles was able to crawl forward, using his sense of touch to navigate and see as best as he could.
Suddenly there was a rustle in the dry leaves.
“Stiles?” Derek called from the outside. “It moved!”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Stiles mumbled to himself and carefully reached out. There was a whimper and a snuffling noise.
“Hey there...” He whispered softly. He felt himself and the little something in front of him shudder when his finger-tips touched smooth fur. The smoothest fur Stiles had ever touched!
With a shaky breath he realized, the fur was sticky and wet in several spots.
“What happened to you, little guy?” He wondered and looked up to find a tiny shimmer of moon light up above. Maybe the animal had fallen through a hole in the ceiling of the cave?
Decision made, Stiles took off his hoodie, scooped up the small, quivering thing with it and while making soothing noises made his way back out.
“I still say, it smells like deer,” Malia said as she helped him to his feet.
“But it's not. It's tiny and soft and hurt,” Stiles replied and cautiously tugged at a corner of the hoodie, revealing the shaking ball of fur to his friends.
Derek's eyebrows did their I-can't-believe-this upwards motion.
“It looks like... a bunny? With... horns?” Stiles gasped as Derek's fingers stroked the messy fur, veins going black at the back of his hand.
“It's a jackalope,” Derek said calmly, withdrawing his hand. “And it's in pain.”
*
The dial tone beeped into Stiles' ear. Derek was driving to the animal clinic. Doctor Deaton had told them to come.
“C'mon Lydia... pick up!”
“I say, we put it out of its misery,” Malia proposed from the back of the Jeep. “And eat it,” she added.
“That's disgusting, Malia. No one's gonna eat the little fellow here.”
“But Stiles!”
Thankfully Lydia picked up right then. “This better be important or else...”
“There's blood on my clothes, Lyds. May I continue speaking?”
There was some movement on the other end of the line. “Shit! Okay. What's wrong?”
“I'll tell you everything later. Just meet us at Deaton's ASAP, okay? And bring a laptop and the Bestiary. We found something in woods,” Stiles explained in an urgent tone. “Hurry!”
“I'll be right over!”
Stiles heard Lydia's distant voice saying, “Hey, listen, I need-” before the line disconnected.
*
About twenty minutes later, Stiles was pacing up and down in the waiting room. Malia nibbled on a candy bar and Derek was his usual stoic self in the corner of the room.
The door bell jingled and Stiles stumbled into the foyer where Lydia and – not as surprisingly as Stiles would have thought – Deputy Parrish entered. Both looking rather disheveled. Stiles had a feeling, he didn't want to know. Just hoped, Lydia wouldn't castrate him for interrupting.
After a short exchange of greetings they sat down in the waiting room and Stiles hurriedly retold the events up until now while skimming through the Bestiary.
Derek took the seat next to him and explained, “A jackalope looks like a hare with horns or antlers. They are said to live in the woods of Wyoming and further north. My mother used to read us children's stories about the Horned Hares but I never believed they actually existed.”
“Says the werewolf,” Stiles deadpanned.
“Argh, give me that!” Without waiting for an answer Lydia grabbed the laptop and started working. “I think, I read something like that in here...” She flicked her gaze up to meet Stiles' eyes. “And why are you all shaky and pale?”
He found himself at a loss of words, for once, and simply shrugged.
“It'll be all right. Calm down, Stiles.” Derek gently rubbed his hand down Stiles' back and pulled him into an awkward hug.
Several minutes of tense silence followed and were broken by Lydia's triumphant “Aha!”
Everyone sat up.
“The Bestiary calls them... Wolpertinger. A.k.a. the Horned Hare, Raurackel or Rasselbock. Body of a rabbit-like creature, the head has horns, often shaped like antlers. Some reports also mention other features, wings for example. They're supposedly very shy and known in many a different kingdom. Tsk. Like, the alpine regions of Bavaria and Austria, the mountain forests of Scandinavia. Says here, it's rather harmless since the Wolpertinger is living off smaller animals like mice, also herbs and roots. The horns or antlers are rumored to have magical or at least medicinal properties. Which is why they were hunted and eventually believed to be extinct.”
She paused, eyes flicking over the text.
“The Bestiary lists a number of different hunting techniques. Although, I think, all of them are old wives' tales. Like, you can only catch them by putting salt on their tails. Or lure them in with candle light and drive them into a canvas sack with a spade...? Who wrote this crap? Sorry Allison!”
She inhaled slowly and read on, “This one says, Wolpertinger can only be found by fair, young lassies who are walking around the woods with their handsome gentleman-friend.”
She looked up and fixed Stiles with her gaze.
“During nightfall of a night of a full moon.”
Stiles nodded, swallowed and mulled it over. “Seems about right.”
Derek clicked his tongue in thought.
Stiles continued, “Hypothetically, if the Horned Hares are inhabiting mountain forests, they were right to come here. And if their horns are indeed magical, that also explains why they came here instead of choosing some other hill with trees on top. But rabbits? Aren't they living in colonies, like a family in a warren? And this one in there,” Stiles pointed at the closed doors of the examination room. “It looked so small and fragile, like, I don't know, even smaller than the dwarf rabbits in the pet shop! What if it's a baby Wolper-thing?”
“Wolpertinger,” Lydia interjected.
“Right, Wolpertinger. It can't be meandering around the woods all alone, can it? What if it fell down the stupid hole into the crevice and its family never found it? What if they were running away from some bigger predator and got separated?”
“Oh Stiles,” Lydia sighed in sympathy and petted his knee. “Let me guess? You want to find the Wolpertinger family and bring back their young?”
Stiles could only nod and try to breathe through the panicky mess he had talked himself into.
“We can do that, right?”
He looked at Derek with pleading eyes.
“Well, maybe not tonight. But we have the scent. We can get Scott and Liam and comb the Preserve together. Maybe Argent can track their paw prints.” Derek shrugged.
“Just don't get your hopes up, Stiles.” Malia came up and kneeled down in front of him. “It does smell pretty delicious.”
“You are not helping,” Stiles huffed and sat up resolutely. “If we can't find the warren, I'll just have to adopt it. Dad can't say no to an endangered supernatural species.”
Derek snorted in amused affection. Everyone else groaned in various degrees of exasperation.
The doors creaked and revealed the veterinarian, holding a bundle.
“You have a heart of gold, Stiles. Take care to preserve that.”
Stiles blushed and jumped from his seat. “How is the little dude? Will he make it? Can I hold him?”
Deaton smiled benignly and placed the bundle in Stiles' waiting arms. “Our patient has two broken legs, one big cut on the tip of the left ear and several minor cuts and bruises. It will be fine with a few weeks of rest and plenty of food and water.”
“Okay,” Stiles said, heart pounding in his chest. “That's a relief.” He wrapped his hoodie around the bundle of sterile cotton and cooed at the sleeping Wolpertinger, “You hear that, little guy? Bed rest and veggies and you'll be as good as new!”
He stroked the fur gently, only now, in the bright light of the room, recognizing the light brown color.
“And you need a name.”
“Stiles, don't!” Lydia interrupted. She frowned worriedly at him. “I see what you're doing here, Stiles. It's called bonding. Don't do that to yourself. You'll only suffer heartbreak once the Wolpertinger is back with its family.”
“Yeah, well, someone needs to nurse him back to health and protect him from hungry predators. I can't just call him Mr. Wolpertinger all the time. That would just be rude. You don't call babies Mister or Miss anyway. Oh, hey Doc!”
Stiles grinned.
“Yes, Stiles?” Deaton replied in his usual manner of calm authority.
“Is he a he? I just assumed...”
Deaton folded his hands in front of him. “Well, Stiles,” he started and then actually wrung his hands! Stiles gaped.
“I'm not sure. I had a look, yes, but I can't tell if the Wolpertinger is male or female.”
“Wow!”
All of them shared a look and eyed the bundle in Stiles' arms.
“Quite the little mystery, huh?” Derek whispered next to Stiles and bent down to run a hand along the Wolpertinger's back.
Stiles smiled. As surprising as it was to find Derek on his side of things, it was also kind of warming his heart.
“Thanks,” he whispered back and the hand on his shoulder squeezed lightly.
“I'll get some straw,” Deaton declared and vanished through the creaking doors.
Lydia put the laptop away and both she and Jordan leaned closer to have a better look.
“It has actual miniscule antlers. How cute is that?”
Jordan chuckled at Lydia's comment.
“So, we need a unisex name. Like Kim. I don't like it,” Derek said and set his chin down on Stiles' shoulder, eyes fixed down. Stiles felt Derek's hair and stubble brush slightly against the side of his face.
“Are you guys serious?” Malia asked. She seemed pretty confused about the whole affair. “You're taking it home?”
“Yes, Malia, I'm taking the Wolpertinger home. And there's no way to talk me out of it.” He nodded and added in a not-so-subtly threatening tone, “And if you try to eat him, I will move into Derek's loft and put up mountain ash lines. Just so you know.”
“Okay, okay,” Malia stood up and lifted her hands in defense. “I get it. You're in love with the furry bunny. Let's go home.”
“Yeah,” Stiles agreed smiling. “Let's go home. But, names first.”
Derek chuckled low in Stiles' ear, making him shiver and goosebumps popping up on his upper arms.
“Hazel,” he said.
Stiles stared at him for a minute.
“Like the color of his fur?” Derek elaborated and Stiles beamed.
“I love it!” And right in this moment, Stiles would have liked to kiss Derek. Just for a second or two. Maybe longer, if he was honest with himself.
“Hey there, Hazel, on behalf of Scott McCall, our Alpha, welcome to the pack!” He cooed and hugged the bundle a bit closer. Laughing softly, he added, “And try not to eat all of Dad's salad, okay?”
The friends burst out into laughter and when Stiles turned to Lydia because she had called him, a flash lit the waiting room.
Lydia sniggered as she showed him the photo.
“The two of you look like young parents cooing over their newborn,” she pointed out, still giggling.
Stiles saw where she was coming from.
“Then we'd best wait to tell Dad until he's had his morning coffee, won't we?”
They laughed and got up from the chairs. Deaton met them at the door with a small bale of straw in hand and waved them off.
In the monotone rumble of the Jeep, Hazel snuffled quietly and moved a little, curling up in Stiles' hoodie rather than Deaton's cotton sheets.
*
Unexpectedly, the Sheriff was already home when Derek parked in the Stilinski drive way.
“Uh, Dad?! You're home?”
“Yes, kiddo. Why the surprised face? You didn't do something, did you?” Sheriff Stilinski held the door open for the three, or rather, four of them and regarded his son with a stern expression.
“Well, Dad,” Stiles swallowed around the lump in his throat. “There's someone who's gonna stay with us for a while...”
*** The End ***
