Trolls aren’t like the one in Harry Potter. Fortunately, all things considered. Stiles isn’t sure they’d be able to hide the existence of a huge troll from Beacon Hills, after all. However, the normal size versions, if normal is eight feet tall, aren’t so terrible. And doesn’t that say something about his life when he thinks dealing with a mythical creature over eight feet tall is just blasé because it could be worse. But that’s the thing he realizes now that means he doesn’t freak out so bad when they’ve got yet another battle to fight: it could be worse.

The pack’s got one of the two trolls already down, green blood oozing out of the wounds, a stench in the air that reminds him of the time he left a tuna sandwich under his bed for like a week, only worse. This is like Scott’s socks after lacrosse practice bad. The troll that is still fighting is a mean son of a bitch, so Stiles doesn’t feel too bad about hitting it in the knee with his baseball bat while Hayden and Liam jump up to go for its throat. The troll knocks the pups down with one swoop of his hand, and Stiles runs behind it because he lacks their nifty healing powers.

“Stiles, watch out,” Mason yells, which makes Stiles freeze and look up as a dark shadow suddenly blocks the moonlight above him.

“Why did we not know there were three trolls?” he asks, trying not to panic but totally failing because holy shit. Three trolls. One of which is standing right there about to pick him up and bite his head off. Stiles likes his head where it’s at, thank you very much! He doesn’t want to be a troll snack. He hasn’t even graduated high school yet!

“Duck,” Kira calls out behind him. Stiles immediately follows her instructions, ducking down and watching her jump over his head, doing some kind of gymnastics move that should totally earn her a gold medal. He’s buying her one if he manages to survive tonight, he decides.

“Now get out of the damn way, dumbass,” Malia adds, joining the fight and pushing him to the side so she can help Kira.

“Where’s the other one?” he asks, turning around and seeing Troll Number Two is now on the ground. Scott and the puppies are taking care of it, so he focuses back on Number Three. Malia’s got a good grip on its arm, and Kira’s poetry in motion as she dances with her sword, slicing and dicing the troll like it’s a Thanksgiving turkey. Stiles is very impressed, unable to stop himself from cheering her on. “Go Kira!”

“What am I?” Malia asks, sticking her tongue out at him before taking a big bite out of the troll’s arm.

“Go Malia!” Stiles adds to be fair, figuring it’s awkward enough for his ex-girlfriend and his current girlfriend to be protecting him, even he’s accepted his role as damsel in distress when it comes to most of the supernatural crap they have to face. “Kick that troll butt!”

“Stiles, really?” Scott shakes his head, his smile fond as he ruffles Stiles’ hair. “You have a baseball bat, not pom poms.”

“We should totally buy me pom poms, though. I can sit around and cheer you guys on while you’re kicking supernatural booty,” Stiles says, squeezing Scott’s hip when he rests his head against Stiles’ shoulder.

“You’re usually in the thick of things, so that’s not a great idea,” Kira points out, grinning as she walks over to join them. Troll Number Three is dead, and she casually wipes her blade on her shirt like it’s nothing that she just downed a troll with Malia. She looks Stiles over, her smile taking a decidedly mischievous turn. “Though you definitely have the legs for the uniform.”

“Oh, do go on. You’ll make me blush.” He feigns coy innocence before tugging her closer. He brushes his lips over her forehead before rubbing their noses together. “You good?”

“All good,” Kira murmurs, squeezing his shoulder before leaning up to kiss his cheek. “You?”

“All good.” He pulls her against him, her back to his chest as she melts into him. He lightly rests his chin on the top of her head, just taking a moment to reassure himself that another battle has been fought and won without injuries. Then he looks over at Scott, who is standing in a similar stance with Lydia, who, unlike Stiles, actually stayed out of the fight. Smart girl, that Lydia. Stiles slowly grins and asks the most important question of the night. “So, how are we supposed to clean up this mess?”