Sat on the roof of his car, Stiles ignored the clearly smoking engine of his poor jeep; he was in the middle of nowhere, his jeep had broken down and he had just gotten a call from Scott asking him about some bizarre creature that had appeared in Beacon Hills.

“...look Scotty!” The human sighed for the uptenth time, rubbing his face with one hand while he held his phone to his ear with a shoulder, flicking through pages of the Argent Bestiary that Chris had copied for him before leaving for France. “I told you what the thing is, I told you that you need to kill it to get rid of i... oh for the love.... Scott! I told you what it is, what you need to do. No, I don’t care that it’s a being with feelings and what-not, it murdered seven children, three adults and three elderly and you want... You know what, do what you want Scott.”

With an agrevated sigh Stiles ended the call without even listening to Scott’s protests, placed the phone on silent and shoved it into the pocket of his jacket. He loved Scott, he really did but his brother would get himself killed one day because of his moral compass.