Chapter Text
Stiles’ life was going well; she graduated high school without a criminal record; thank you, dad; she even got into a local college and got a job working at the police station as a dispatcher, so she could move out and get her own apartment. Her life had everything except a boyfriend or romance; she was too awkward and self-conscious to date. She had her best friend Scott, who she hung out with frequently, and his girlfriend Allison who was excellent and like her sister, but Stiles didn’t have anyone special in her life, and she dwelled on this fact instead of paying attention to the road, or she would have seen the dog running into the street.
Distracted driving is dangerous, as clear by the thud and string of yelps from the poor creature she just hit. She slams on her brakes, puts the Jeep into park, jumps out, and runs over to the whimpering dog, a huge dog, in the street. She pulls out her phone, calling Scott because he's one year away from his veterinary license and already works in one, the animal was breathing even if it appeared to be breathing a little too fast.
“Scott! Man, I just hit a dog! I wasn’t paying attention, and it ran into the road!” She was freaking out, hoping the dog didn’t die. But at the same time, wondering if it was actually a dog because it was pretty large.
"Stiles, calm down! Do you see any blood? Is it still breathing? Don’t touch it; it might bite you.” Scott is studying for a test when Stiles calls him, and he can hear her freaking out.
“I don’t see blood, but the dog is just lying there, and yeah, it’s breathing really fast. What should I do?” She wanted to reach out and pet it, but Scott said not to.
“Wait a minute. I’ll be there, and we’ll take it to the office so I can look it over. Don’t touch it, Stiles.” He knew she probably would anyway because that's the type of person she is.
“Yeah, don’t touch it,” She mumbles before hanging up the phone and putting the device back in her bra because she didn’t have any pockets today. She sits on the ground next to the dog as it whines in pain, “I'm so sorry, dude! I did not mean to hit you. I love animals. Fish are friends, not food.” Why was she quoting Finding Nemo? Because she tends to babble when she is nervous or freaking out. She reaches out and begins stoking the dog's neck, and it just whines again before it starts to try and get up. “No! Don’t move! You could have a broken leg or ribs or something. I won’t hurt you. Just stay lying down.” The animal huffs out of its nose, sounding annoyed, but goes still and lets the brunette pet his head.
Scott shows up ten minutes later to find Stiles on the road petting the potentially rabid animal. “I said not to pet it, Stiles.” He begins poking, prodding, and feeling around the dog, checking for any noticeable breaks. He extends each leg ruling out broken legs, “I don’t think anything is broken, but let's get him to the clinic just to be sure. Get some X-rays and pain medicine in him."
At the mention of X-rays, the animal stands up on its own and shakes itself off, looking at them both with surprisingly bright blue eyes. He begins to walk away, but Stiles calls out to him, "Hey, wait!" And to her surprise, it listens, "Scott did you bring the chip reader? Let us see if there's anyone we can call."
Scott nods, pulling out a bulky phone-shaped device, then he begins to scan the large animal with it and gives his best friend a negative head shake, "No chip and no collar he's a stray or has irresponsible owners."
“Then I’m keeping him. I want to make sure he’s okay.” Stiles and Scott stand up off the ground, “Help me get him in the Jeep?”
Scott nods, and between the two of them, they convince the animal to let them put it in the jeep. It seems so calm and domesticated, never once growling at them, it curls up going to sleep once she shuts the trunk.
It was only a ten-minute drive from where she hit the dog to her apartment; when she arrived, she parked the vehicle and then went around, opening the back of the Jeep. The dog's tail lightly began thumping; she chuckled, “Hi there. You’re awake. We’ll go to my home; I’ll make you a bed and get you some food.” To her surprise, the animal stands up, stretches his body, then jumps out and waits for her. “You had to be someone’s pet; no stray dog is this calm and well-trained.”
They go up the stairs, and as promised, Stiles digs some leftover pot roast out of the fridge; she heats it, so it’s warm, then sets it out for him on a plate. She finds a few spare blankets setting them out in a makeshift pallet on the living room floor, “This is your bed.” She points to the blankets and then walks back into the kitchen, opening her laptop to look over her coursework for that week. She was working on her degree.
Then later that night, Stiles is in the bathroom getting ready for bed, she had left the dog in the living room on his blanket. She brushes her teeth and hair before changing into a long, oversized T-shirt. She crawls into bed, leaving her bedroom door open as always; she smiles at the crisp cool sheets against her skin as she slides into bed and slowly falls asleep. The nails clicking on the floor don’t register in her mind as the dog walks into her room and sits on the floor, watching her sleep.
The Dogs POV
Being struck by a car while running from hunters wasn't really on his to-do list for the day, but there he was, lying in pain on the pavement. He was already healing and would be fine given a few minutes, but the human woman was freaking out and calling someone on the phone. She smelled intriguing despite the acrid smell of her anxiety, which is why he didn't just get up and run off before this other person arrived. She was gentle and currently keeping him safe, not that she knew that because the hunters wouldn't interfere with her there.
At the sound of X-rays and knowing he was already fully healed, it was time for him to escape, but she was calling him to stop. He halts in his departure, curious about her despite the danger lurking nearby the human male scans him and then calls him a stray which is honestly insulting. He doesn't look anything like a mangey stray dog. His enhanced hearing picks up the movement in the trees, getting closer as she talks about wanting to keep him. He knows he shouldn't go with her, but it was his best escape plan at the moment, so when they open the back of the jeep, he jumps up into the vehicle and curls up, lying down to keep himself out of sight.
She seems so kind and caring that he feels bad for using her like this, knowing he won't be sticking around past the night. She feeds him pot roast and even warms it so that it isn't ice cold and then makes him a pile of blankets to lay on. All of this for some stray dog she found the woman must be lonely and lacking in companionship. When she goes to bed, he is lying on the blankets, thinking that this is the first decent place he has stayed since returning to Beacon Hills. When she goes to bed, he finds himself intrigued by her scent and kindness, so he walks into the bedroom and decides to watch over her.