When Stiles goes to college, he meets a new group of supernatural creatures (because of course he does) and it turns out he’s pretty good at taking care of werewolves–and a witch! Derek and John are… wary.
Two and a half years of running with wolves had given Stiles the ability to recognize a supernatural being with a relative ease, and going to a university with a very large student body gave him a fair amount of practice.
In his first semester English Lit class, there was a girl who spent all of the first class with a sour look on her face, leaning as far away from the professor as possible while still remaining in her seat in the middle of the auditorium. It wasn’t until Stiles went to get the syllabus from the prof that he got a whiff of the man’s oppressive cologne. The next time the class met, Stiles brought some herbal candy and a small tub of salve with him. He had sat next to her in her new place in the back row and placed the items on the table in front of her.
“The lozenges will help, and put a little of the salve under your nose, too. That should block the worst of it,” he’d said quietly, smiling with no teeth and as much sincerity as he could manage so he didn’t appear as a threat–or a crazy person. He preempted her denial by dropping his voice further, turning toward her as he stood to find a different seat and reassuring her with, “When my brother got turned, his senses went crazy, and these were a lifesaver.”
Her jaw had dropped slightly, and her brow had furrowed in a way that Stiles found startlingly endearing, but when her eyes snapped to meet his, there was only mild surprise and confusion there. She’d even smiled, though it seemed to be involuntary, and after he’d settled into his seat a few rows down, he heard the quiet crinkle of a wrapper open. When he’d looked up a moment later, as Dr. English Leather walked in carrying his cloud of chemicals and musk, she was wearing a small pleased smile and replacing the lid on the jar of salve.