The initial reaction in the Beacon Hills Preserve was a maelstrom of frightened justifications, stunned interrogations, and the residual alarm of the unperceived danger that had disappeared into the forest. Sheriff Stilinski, once suspicious of Damien, soon turned his attention to his son's health, his alarm quelling his law officer training for the time being.
Scott, shaken and dazed, was only able to provide piecemeal descriptions of the red-eyed monster and the burning agony of the bite. He had a vague recollection of a blur of movement, a massive figure intervening, but his recollections were vague and shrouded by the brutality of his initial transformation.
Stiles, though, was a flurry of anxious energy, his first suspicion of Damien gradually yielding to reluctant curiosity. He bombarded Scott with questions, his own thoughts already leaping to fit the events into the comfortable context of supernatural dread he'd learned from innumerable films and internet forums.
"So, the 'dog' had red glowing eyes?" Stiles asked, his tone a blend of terror and morbid curiosity as he assisted Scott to sit up. "That's Alpha werewolf territory, Scotty! We're in serious bad news here!"
Sheriff Stilinski, his expression worried, knelt down beside his son. "An Alpha? Scott, do you mean to tell me you were attacked by a werewolf?"
Scott could only weakly nod, his eyes opening wide in a dawning horror as the realization of his position finally hit him.
At the same time, Damien kept a distance, his arm oozing steadily under the shredded fabric of his designer jacket. He observed the exchange, Leo's memories giving him a maddeningly vivid picture of what was happening. He saw the fear, the bewilderment, the denial Scott was feeling. He saw the incredulity and eventual coming-around of Sheriff Stilinski. And he saw Stiles's frantic efforts to try to make sense of the nonsensical.
Sheriff Stilinski finally turned his attention back to Damien, his gaze sharp. "You said your name is Damien. What were you doing out here?"
Damien met his gaze steadily. "I received a… message. It indicated something was happening in the Preserve." He kept his explanation vague, unwilling to reveal the cryptic text or his own still-unclear connection to the supernatural.
Stiles's eyes grew wide. "A message? From whom? Another werewolf? Are there more of them?"
Damien overlooked Stiles's tantrum, his attention on the Sheriff. "I don't know who wrote it. But it brought me here." He pointed to Scott. "And it seems I arrived just in time.
Sheriff Stilinski observed Damien, his police training battling the unusual circumstances. Something about this fellow, his even keel in the midst of the pandemonium, the hint of authority that seemed to surround him, just didn't fit.
"You battled this… Alpha?" the Sheriff questioned, sounding doubtful.
Damien nodded, wincing in pain as he shifted his hurt arm. "He had the best of me. I was… just a diversion." He minimized his own skills, unwilling to disclose the emerging Lycan within.
The appearance of a police cruiser, sirens low, only added to the tense atmosphere. Deputy Parrish, worry creasing his face, appeared before them. "Sheriff, we received a call concerning a disturbance in the Preserve…" He broke off, surveying the blood, the battered teenager, and the towering stranger.
The next few hours were a blur of hurried explanations, reluctant confessions from Scott, and Sheriff Stilinski's increasingly bewildered attempts to reconcile his understanding of reality with the impossible events unfolding before him. Stiles, of course, provided a running commentary, filled with dramatic pronouncements and increasingly accurate (though still outlandish-sounding) theories.
Damien provided little background, adhering to the narrative of getting an anonymous note and happening upon the assault. He let Scott take center stage, sensing the teenager's need to work through the life-changing event that had just transpired.
With the first light of dawn spreading a pale glow over the Preserve, Sheriff Stilinski made his hard choice. He couldn't just write off what his son had said, not with the proof of the attack and Damien's wounds in his face. He went along with keeping the incident quiet at least for now, a secret among the three of them (and Stiles, who was constitutionally unable to keep secrets but could be sworn into a semblance of silence when the occasion required it).
Damien, after a short but sharp discussion with Melissa in the hospital where Scott was undergoing tests, became an unlikely, if cautious, supporter. Melissa, even though she had been startled and bewildered by Scott's panicked explanation, could see the real fear in his eyes and Damien's protective attitude. She didn't know who or what Damien was, but she could see that he had assisted her son.
As the sun climbed higher, shining its beam over the tiny town of Beacon Hills, an uncomfortable truce emerged. Scott was struggling to come to terms with his new reality, fear and confusion giving way to reluctant acceptance. Stiles, filled with a powerful combination of terror and exhilaration, was already leaping headfirst into the realm of werewolves and supernatural mythology. Sheriff Stilinski teetered on the edge of discovering a truth that would dismantle his world.
And Damien, the stranger with a secret heritage and broken memories, was pulled inadvertently into the midst of it. The ambiguous message still held its secrets, but its intent was now apparent. He was here for a purpose. And as he gazed on the anxious faces of the McCall family and Stiles, a grim determination settled over him. He may not yet know his own strength or where he stood in this strange new reality, but he was not going to let the darkness that lurked in the shadows take over this town, or the people he was starting to feel a strange, unwelcome bond with. The game was far from being over, and the rules, he guessed, were going to get a whole lot more complicated.