MCCALL.

"We don't have evidence of a lot of things, Scott. Doesn't mean they don't exist. Scientists still can't explain dark matter and we still haven't even explored like seventy percent of the ocean." he paused, nodding. "probably a good idea." he agreed in regards to copying the notes. "--besides, i don't think there's too many people out there getting bit by vampires and living to tell the tale, you know? Like, you either get eaten or become one..."

"the more we talk about this, the less i want to celebrate halloween this year." lifts a hand, rubs at the back of his neck. this whole thing is starting to creep him out; real people are missing. stiles is piecing together vampires = real life. and what happened to working on his essay? "i don't know, have you considered, like... villainous scientists? or cannibals?"

"What? What is this--you're messing with me--are you messing with me?" Stiles sat back in his chair. "My dad is used to dead bodies. Okay, he's seen a hundred dead bodies. In fact, when you apply to the police academy, you know what they ask you? Hey, are you okay with seeing dead bodies? Because there is a one hundred percent chance, as a cop, that you will see at least one dead body in your career" Stiles didn't so much stop talking as he did run out of breath. Then, he took a deep sigh and gave Scott a very deadpan stare. "I think if a vampire bites either of us its gonna chomp through our scrawny little necks like a twizzler and we'll be dead. Just like everyone else this thing has killed." there was a a beat, and then he started digging through his backpack. "Also, can I borrow your english notes? I forgot mine...when I didn't take them..."

like a twizzler. not exactly scott's most favorite mental image ever. he leans back in his chair, running a hand over his face, into his hair, through it. "mine's not that scrawny. you can borrow my notes if you promise not to lose them this time— you know what? i'm just going to run them through a copier or something. i still don't think it's a vampire. why hasn't anyone come out with any actual evidence of them yet?"

"Scott. Scott, listen to me." stiles started shoving books and papers out of the way as he practically climbed over the table, positioning himself on his elbows, way closer than was probably necessary--but, hey, what was personal space between best friends? "You're gonna look me in my ocular nerves and tell me you don't think something freaky is going on here? --If it's not a chupacabra then what is it?" Stiles didn't give Scott time to respond before he slammed his hand on the table, much louder than intended, which startled everyone and earned him several disapproving looks, plus a prompt shhhh from the librarian. Stiles barely batted an eye but lowered his voice to a scream-whisper. "I'll tell you what it is--it's a fricken vampire!!" he was dangerously close to a quiet shout and dropped his voice again, this time to a normal volume, and what most people would actually qualify as a whisper. "Even my dad's freaked out, yanno, he just wont say it."

"your dad's freaked out because people are finding bodies. that's kind of a good reason to freak out regardless of how they got there, you know? ...they're bodies." but they both know that's not good enough for stiles, so scott considers him, stares some more, finally lifts his eyebrows dramatically. "do you think if the vampire turns us we could just drop out of college? i doubt they really need degrees."

"No, no--I mean I'm sure it's totally normal to have a bunch of bodies mysteriously turning up drained of blood. Happens all the time in other towns, you know, animals just...do that, they bite people and....suck the blood out..." he hardly get the words out with a straight face. "I'm just saying, it's weird. I don't know any mountain lions personally, but I've never heard of one leaving the body afterwords. The point is kind of to eat it."

he's been listening patiently, completely accustomed to being the good ol' reliable wall for which stiles bounces off his many (many, many) thoughts. all the while, scott switches out one notebook for another, flips open his laptop, squints at the handwriting in front of him for what should be his notes but might actually be stiles'. this essay is so screwed. "wait, what?" drags his gaze back over to his best friend, bewilderment mixing with amusement in the twitch of his lips. "are you back on your chupacabra thing again?"