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Scott, We're Not in Beacon Hills Anymore

Summary:

Scott and Stiles are sent back in time by Beacon Hill's latest threat.

Day Twenty of Whumptober 2020 - Toto, I Have a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Anymore - Lost, Medieval

Notes:

Nothing to say here today. Triggers in the tags.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

     “Scott, remind me the next time you try to reason with a deranged maniac to stand a minimum of twenty feet away from you,” Stiles grumbled as they trudged through the forest.

 

     “Look, how did I know that she could do something like this?” Scott asked, looking around as if he’d be able to tell where they were.

 

     “Oh, I don’t know, maybe by listening to me for once!?” Stiles said, gesturing wildly with the sword in his hand, making Scott flinch.

 

     “Stiles, watch it!” He shouted, stumbling as his own sword dug into the ground as he backed away.

 

     The other teen sighed, stopping in his tracks as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “She would have to switch us with people wearing chainmail.” He complained. “I’m sweating in places that I didn’t even know existed under here! Not to mention, it’s freaking heavy.” He grunted, tired just from walking in the armor.

 

     Stiles looked up to see the amused look Scott was giving him and rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure. It’s not heavy for a freaking werewolf.”

 

     Scott just shrugged slightly, trying not to smile. “Come on, we’re bound to run into a town or a road soon.”

 

     “I’d settle for a cool stream right now,” Stiles said, shaking his empty canteen sadly before he fell into step behind the alpha once more.

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

     They had been walking for maybe half an hour when Scott paused. “You hear that?” He asked, cocking his head.

 

     Stiles gave him a flat look. “Do I look like I have super hearing?” He asked before falling silent to let Scott listen.

 

     It was a second before Scott’s eyes widened. “This way, someone’s in trouble!” He said before taking off, leaving Stiles to chase after him with an exasperated yell.

 

     Thankfully, Scott knew better than to leave Stiles behind in a world and time that was not their own, staying at a slow pace that his friend would be able to keep up with.

 

     It wasn’t long before they stepped out of the forest onto a dirt road, finding a young man being roughed up by two men while another three raided his cart of the goods he was carrying.

 

     “Scott, please, no,” Stiles said, reaching for Scott’s arm, only to find the werewolf already striding forward.

 

     “Hey, let him go!” Scott shouted, watching as the men looked back at him, the young farmer’s face lighting up when he saw him.

 

     One of the men smirked, though, as he realized that it was five bandits against two knights. “Why don’t you make us, noble scum?” He sneered, lifting his own short blade as he rushed forward.

 

     Scott blocked his dagger with his sword and pushed the man back, only for two others to attack him at once.

 

     “Hey!” Stiles yelled, holding his sword in both hands as he tried to defend himself against the remaining two. “You know just because I have this sword doesn’t mean I know how to use it!” He shouted, backing up as he stayed on the defensive, trying not to lose his head.

 

     At the sound of Stiles’ panicked voice, Scott pushed the men back and dropped his sword, his eyes glowing red as he roared, his fangs lowered, and his claws out.

 

     The second and third men paled, dropping their weapons and high-tailing it out of there. But their leader hesitated, seeming to steel himself before attacking once more.

 

     Behind Scott, Stiles cried out, falling to the ground as he gripped his bicep, his shoulder bleeding from a nasty cut.

 

     "Stiles!" Scott abandoned the leader, charging towards the two men standing over Stiles. One of the men swung his sword, and Scott growled, grabbing his arm to halt the motion. He slashed a hand across the man's chest, drawing blood as the man screamed.

 

     The leader caught his man as he stumbled back, looking at Scott with horror as the werewolf roared once more.

 

     The other of the two that had been going after Stiles rushed to the leader's side. "He's a demon! Let's get out of here!" He shouted.

 

     The two pulled their wounded friend along as they ran off, leaving Scott to kneel next to Stiles. "Are you okay?"

 

     The human looked up at him as the red faded from the werewolf's eyes. "Yeah, I think it's just a flesh wound. But we may have another problem." He said, pointing towards the cart where the young farmer was hiding behind the rig, watching them fearfully.

 

     Scott turned to look, and Stiles swore, the werewolf echoing the sentiment as the two exchanged a wary glance.

Notes:

Word Count - 769. Yeah, this one feels really random to me too. XD Hope you guys enjoyed this one!

While I'm a bit busy with Whumptober at the moment, I sometimes post fic recommendations on my tumblr between updates, so go check that out!

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