Pilot Part 1

Hey, yeah, it's finally here!

Sorry for the wait, I overestimated my typing skills. And then along with that, my beta had some technical difficulties (I'm so sorry my friend, I can't believe you had to re-bold everything!), and I got heavily distracted with a potential new job! It panned out, thank god, and I am now working full-time and getting paid significantly better, so that's nice.

As for changes I've made, aside from cleaning up some parts, I just full-on deleted any commentary that I felt wasn't needed. It's a little jarring, sometimes, having no break from the commentary, and sometimes a scene plays out better if nobody says anything, I feel.

Oh, and I also changed the timeline of the story!

Instead of right before the season finale, it's after season two, but before season three!

Onwards with the fic!

Disclaimer: No.

Scott had been entirely sure that today was going to be a shitty day. Not only because he was still attempting to be alright with Allison deciding that breaking up with him was for the best, but also because his mom was still tip-toeing around him even if she was trying to be discreet about it. So really, disappearing from his bedroom to some weird entertainment-room type space in the span of two blinks was too much. Scott felt like he might be justified in feeling, just, done with everything. "Are you kidding me?"

Scott groans at the room, because there's literally nobody else here. He can't smell anyone, let alone see anyone. The room is large, like a basement maybe, except with no windows. Scott notes, though, that there's a pretty impressive home theater setup mounted to the wall that he might have been jealous of, under different circumstances. At a comfortable distance from the entertainment system, there's a cluster of couches and chairs, all large and squashy looking. Other than that, however, the room is bare. Well, except for the door innocently located on the far wall.

"No way…" Scott mutters, because it's never that easy. He finds himself stepping towards it anyway, though, because he's feeling distinctly creeped out and he just has to try.

Scott, unfortunately, never gets to reach it, because once again, in the span of a few blinks, his best friend is suddenly there with him.

Stiles comes into the room in the usual manner with which he enters places; ungracefully, and with a fair bit of flailing and loudness. That is to say, that Stiles appears to have been walking when he flashed into the room, and the shock of it makes him stumble and flail. "Jesus Christ!" Stiles yelps, and tumbles to the ground with a painful looking flop.

"Dude!" Scott just yelps, staring at him dumbly for a second, before rushing over to help his friend up. "You're here too! What the hell? How did you get here?"

Stiles moans, "Ow," shaking the pins and needles sensation out of his arm. He gratefully accepts Scott's help up, and rubs at his arm looking put out and just a bit confused. "I don't know, it just kinda happened."

Scott nods his head, "Same."

Stiles, like Scott had, takes a look around. "Whoa, dude, where the hell are we?" he swivels around, taking it all in.

Scott shrugs roughly. "Don't ask me. I came here like, two minutes before you did," he replies.

"No windows," Stiles notes, a touch of panic in his voice. "Why are there no windows? Rooms always have windows!"

Scott yells, "I don't know!"

Stiles continues, starting to shout, "I'm not seeing any windows!" growing more worried by the second.

"There's a door." Scott offers quickly, and points at it. Sufficiently distracted, Stiles zero's in on it immediately.

"Oh, thank God, I thought we were gonna get murdered," he says, relieved, and scrambles over to it.

Scott follows after him, asking, "There's nobody else here, who would murder us?"

Flailing his hands Stiles replies, "I don't know! I was panicking, leave me alone."

Scott holds up his hands in surrender, "Just asking."

Stiles huffs, "Yeah, well, don't." There's a second, where they both stare at the door knob like it might eat them, before Stiles sighs loudly and grasps it carefully. He looks at Scott, and they both back up out of the "monster-leaping-out-to-kill-them zone" (i.e. the immediate doorway). "Okay, here we go," Stiles warns shakily, and flings the door open.

Scott tenses, ready to attack, while Stiles squeezes his eyes shut tightly. Nothing leaps out though, and both boys relax. Cautiously, Stiles peeks out the doorway. "What in the…?" he mutters.

"What?" Scott demands, and shoves himself beside Stiles to peek out. Behind the door… is absolutely nothing, just emptiness; not a dark emptiness, but bright, white, emptiness.

"Oh my god, are we dead?" Stiles asks. "Are we-? I'm dead? Really?"

Scott says blankly, "There's no way…" but Stiles doesn't hear him.

"I was just walking, how can I be dead?" he demands. "This is stupid; I demand a do-over!"

"Son?" both boys hear, and Stiles shuts his mouth so fast his teeth click together.

Scott whirls around, while Stiles twists and leaps at the speaker, who catches the worried ball of spazz with practiced ease and hugs him. John Stilinski nods at Scott, looking a little relieved, but also pretty worried. Beside him, is Melissa McCall, and Scott finds himself walking over to hug her tightly too.

"Do you know what this is?" she asks him urgently, quietly, and Scott shakes his head subtly where his head is resting on her shoulder.

"Do I even wanna know what's going on?" John asks, and there's enough tiredness in his voice that makes Scott wince guiltily. He's been partially responsible for the amount of stress he'd been under, after all.

"No." Stiles says finally, releasing his father. "You probably don't. And I don't either." he and Scott share a look, avoiding their parent's suspicious -and mostly well deserved- looks. "We don't know what's going on, I swear. We didn't do anything."

"Well that's a first." Johns mutters, unable to help himself and studiously ignores the look of affront that his son shoots him. Stiles doesn't have time to reply though, before yet another addition is sent into the room.

This time it's Derek, who comes in the room looking beyond suspicious at the gathered group of four.

"Derek Hale?" John asks, because why the hell is he here? The man doesn't even acknowledge him, focusing instead on Scott and, by extension, Stiles and glares at him with the all too familiar I Know You Two Did Something Dammit expression he'd perfected by the time his son was four.

"Don't look at us!" Scott huffs. "We didn't do anything!" Derek does something with his eyebrows that somehow translates into 'Really?' "We didn't do anything." Scott repeats. "Really, we didn't."

"Am I supposed to believe that?" Derek asks, and Scott looks, abruptly, furious.

"I think the real question here," John drawls, noting Scott's seemingly over reactive behavior and his own son's look of mild annoyance, like this kind of attitude between them was normal. "...is how come you two know him well enough to fight." because this was just a few times too many that they'd had some sort of connection to Derek Hale, dammit.

"Uh…" Stiles predictably splutters. John glances back at Melissa, looking for backup in this conversation, when he notices her expression. Or, rather, the fact that she didn't look angry, or suspicious like he was. Like she knew what was going on. "You knew about this?" John asks, accusingly, and watches her face pale.

"John, I…" Melissa tries.

"You didn't tell me?"

"It's not that simple…"

"How about we get back to what the hell we're doing here?" Stiles suggests loudly, waving his arms. "This isn't really the time for fighting." he says weakly, seeing the mounting fury crawl it's way into his father expression.

Derek sighs loudly and rubs at his neck. "Did we all just appear here?" he asks, for a change of subject.

Scott shrugs. "Pretty much." and the others nod. "There's a door too, but it doesn't go anywhere…"

"So-" John starts, but he's interrupted by the arrival of three more.

"Derek!" said man doesn't even begin to react before he has an armful of trembling blonde beta, with another, equally shaken beta sidling up beside him. It takes him a second to recognize Erica and Boyd, dirty and reeking of blood and sweat, and Derek's gratefully accepting both of his missing pack member's desperate, relieved affection.

"'m, sorry." Erica mumbles into his neck, and lets out a small entirely animal whine of pain, "Sorry, sorry, sorry..." Isaac is busy staring previously-kidnapped friends with mild horror, taking in their wrecked appearances.

"What happened?" he asks, with only a bit of trepidation, as Derek finally lets Erica go. He starts checking them over, taking in the various tears ripped through their clothes, and the blood crusted and flaking around them.

In the background, the Stilinski's and McCall's can only watch the scene with varying degrees of horror.

It's Boyd who speaks up, when Derek seems to calm down a tad, finding no wounds. "Awful things." he mutters darkly.

Melissa wanders over to them, and touches Erica's arm gently, but even that makes the girl flinch. Melissa backs up, giving her more room. "Are you guys hurt? Like, right now? Or…" she questions.

"They were letting us heal." Erica chokes out. "For now…" and with that, the room seems to get a little colder.

"I'll kill them." Derek says, and it's a definite promise.

Erica looks up at him, and her expression is heartbreaking. "I don't know if you can." she says softly.

"We shouldn't have left." Boyd announces, as Isaac attempts to merge into his side in a way that gave comfort to both of them. "We were wrong. There's nothing out there for us." Boyd says defeated.

"I don't wanna go back there." Erica says loudly. "I don't know how we appeared here, but I'm never going back." she shudders violently.

"You won't." Derek literally growls and Isaac nods his head furiously, pressing even closer to Boyd, like someone might drag him away even now.

"Is anyone else really confused?" John asks slowly, to the room in general.

"I'm a little confused." Melissa admits. They don't have time to discuss this, as more people get added to the room. As quick as the other's arrival had been, Chris and Allison Argent stand stunned in the room. Privately, John can't help but notice a small pattern in the type of people who keep arriving, mainly that they're all connected in some way at some point to Scott and his son. He doesn't get a chance to ask though, as Erica and Boyd take one look at Allison and their faces twist.

"You!" Erica pretty much shrieks, and Boyd is crouching like a predator ready to pounce. Derek, with a little reluctance, gets ready for a fight.

"Whoa, whoa!" Scott yelps, unhelpfully, as both werewolves ignore him.

Defensively, the Argents reach for their weapons, only… "My gun's gone." Chris grits out, and John has a second to yell 'What?', before Allison's hands come out from her pockets empty-handed as well. "So's my knife."

Meanwhile, Derek, Boyd, and Erica are looking at their own hands in confusion. "I...can't shift…" Erica mutters, disbelief coloring her tone. Boyd looks like he's in deep concentration, and Isaac keeps clenching his fingers like his claws might appear if he does it enough times. "Derek?" she asks, looking up at her scowling alpha.

"I don't know anything that can do this…" Derek admits. "Not many things can prevent shifting, and we're clearly not being electrocuted, so…"

"Wait," John blurts out, waving a hand. "What's shifting?" his son ignores him in favor of the pack's development.

"You can't shift?" Stiles yelps out, unthinkingly, and turns to Scott. "Dude, you try."

Scott spends a second looking constipated, before giving up. "Nope. I can't shift either."

"So," Chris interrupts, after surveying the room. "We don't have our weapons," he gestures to Allison and himself "and you don't have yours." he establishes. Derek nods tightly, and then relaxes marginally. "So clearly we're not here to fight."

"Why would we fight?" Melissa demands, looking completely out of her depth, as she loses her temper.

"Remember what I said about hunters?" Scott asks, and at Melissa's nod he winces and gestures to Allison with his head. "Well...those are hunters."

Melissa's eyebrows rise. "You were dating a hunter..." she trails off, and her face sets in an expression that suggests that she's seriously considering Scott's mental facilities.

"Yeah?" He grimaces.

"Okay!" John says loudly, clapping his hands together with a sharp smack. "I'm beginning to realize that I am very, very out of the loop here." and he shoots Stiles a look that has him cringing. "What the hell is going on?"

Stiles fidgets nervously. "Mr. Stilinski…" Chris begins, but John cuts him off. "No way! I know you're definitely involved in this too, and that you've been lying to the police," here, John glares at him, "but I want to hear the story from my son."

Stiles stammers out a, "Look, dad-" But again, explanations have to wait, because, again, there are new arrivals.

"Oh, come on!" one of the people groans. "Seriously?!"

Jackson, Danny, and Lydia look at the assembled group with various expressions ranging from curiosity to mild fear. "Um," Danny begins. "Why are we all here?"

There's a pause, and then, "Where is here, exactly?" Lydia asks.

"I was driving…" Jackson says, stunned, and mimes holding onto a steering wheel.

"What…?" Danny continues to look at the room's inhabitants in confusion.

"I was in my room." Lydia says disturbed. She takes a look around, taking in the sparse furniture, and focuses on the door, at the end of the room.

Stiles speaks up, guessing her intent. "Don't bother, the door doesn't go anywhere." and Isaac, Erica and Boyd peer at it, not having noticed it earlier.

"Why is there a door, when it doesn't go anywhere?" Isaac asks.

"How the hell should I know?" Stiles snaps.

"Maybe it's a magic door." Jackson offers, sarcastically.

"Well why don't you step outside and find out?" Stiles snarls back.

"Stop it, this isn't the time!" Someone says, and is replied with an angry "Make me!"

The squabble starts to get louder. "Can we get back to how the hell we got here?" Someone asks.

"Yes, I agree, let's do that."

Several people chime in at this yelling, "No! I wanna see where the door goes!" "Me too!" By now most of the room is shouting, trying to be heard above the others, and it isn't until a flash of light nearly blinds them that it quiets down.

"Christ," John mutters, rubbing at his eyes.

"What the hell was that?" Scott moans, "Owww," and the other beta's groan along with him, rubbing furiously at their eyes.

"Um…" Allison speaks up, and everyone looks at her. She looks supremely awkward with the attention and holds up a piece of paper. "There's a note here…"

Chris holds out his hand, and Allison gratefully drops the note in it. Chris peers at it for a minute, and clears his throat. "Dear Everyone," he recites, clearly. "Some of you have had a lot of questions over the last few months. For some of you, they've been answered. For some of you, they haven't. Some of you have had partial answers, while some of you know everything." Chris continues.

"O-kay…" Stiles drawls. "That tells us, like, nothing."

Chris gives him an impatient look. "I'm not finished yet."

Holding up his hands Stiles says, "Right, carry on."

Placated, for the moment, Chris continues, "For the next while, if you choose, you'll be able to have all your questions answered. We cannot force you to be here if you don't want to be. If you absolutely want to leave, you may. The door will give you what you need." Chris pauses, gives the door a long considering look, and then continues. "If you choose to stay, you'll be viewing the past, present, and future in a manner that you're all familiar with; through the TV."

For a moment no one spoke, then chaos. "What."

"Are you kidding me?"

Raising his voice slightly, Chris continues, "For some of you, it will bring up bad memories. And some of you will see things you might regret. So, choose wisely as to whether or not you wish to stay. But know that if you do leave, you are missing things that will help to aid you in navigating the world you've all been presented with. As soon as it's over, you will find yourselves back where you were before you came here." Chris trails off, and looks up. "It's signed A.D. and M.M." he said.

"So, we can leave?" Jackson wonders, "Because if we can, then I am definitely leaving."

"Same." Lydia agrees.

"I think it might be a good idea to stay." Danny admits. "I mean, aren't you sick of always wondering what's going on?"

Lydia looks down. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

Shaking his head, Danny bites out. "I actually do, considering Jackson was driving to my house to tell me what's been going on lately."

"You were going to tell Danny?" Lydia asks Jackson, accusingly. "Really? But you wanted me in the dark?"

Before Jackson can defend himself Erica interrupts, "Back to the matter at hand," she glares at the rest of the room decisively. "I'm not leaving, not if it means we have to go back to where we were." she grips Boyd's hand tightly, and unflinchingly takes the scrutinizing looks of the few who hadn't noticed the state she was in.

"Oh my god, what happened!?" Danny asks.

"Something that we're in no hurry to get back to," Boyd answers.

"I think it's a good idea to stay." Derek decides, and his beta's nod along with his words. "Find out the whole story."

Nodding his head John says, "I am definitely staying." and gives Stiles a look that says he has no choice about staying either. "Because I want answers, and I want them now."

Melissa states "Me too.", and Scott nods.

"Same." Allison and Chris say at the same time.

Jackson sighs deeply, like it causes him pain to agree with the assembled group of people. "Fine, whatever; I guess knowing the future's a good idea." Beside him, Lydia reluctantly nods.

Everything decided, the group drifts over to the assembled couches, with Derek's pack settled on the largest one, dead center, the McCall's and Stilinski's sit on the left side couch, and Lydia, Jackson, and Danny on the right side one. In between the couches were comfy looking chairs, and Allison chose the one nearest to Scott, while Chris sat a tad awkwardly near Lydia, trying to ignore the proximity to Derek's pack, as there was no avoiding that.

There a few moments of silence, where everyone settled themselves, and then the TV flicks on, and for a second there's nothing but a black screen. Then, it begins:

Shrouded in thick clouds, a waxing moon shines eerily down on the Beacon Hills Preserve. Multiple police cars roll up near the entrance, lights flashing, with dispatch calling out instructions through their radios. Officers leave their cars equipped with search dogs and flashlights, trudging out through the forest in groups. The dogs barking agitatedly, while they fan out in search of something…

Recognizing the night being shown on the TV screen, John groans loudly. "Oh no."

Melissa looks over at him. "What?" she asks.

"Something happened on this night, this one?" John nearly whines. "'We were looking for Scott's inhaler…' Right, okay."

"You okay there dad?" Stiles asks, mildly amused and a little bit guiltily.

"No. Not really."

The scene moves to a large house, near the forest.

"Hey, that's my house!" Melissa blurts out, pointing at the screen. "Wait… why are they showing my house?"

Moving inside, Scott McCall is shown sitting at his desk, shirtless, performing maintenance on his Lacrosse stick.

"I think the real question here," Erica muttered, not quite back to her old self yet. "Is why we're being shown Scott's room,"

Muttering, Boyd says "It's probably important.", low enough that only the werewolves in the room could hear him. "He was the first one turned."

Scott tests the net with his fist and a ball, making sure it works to his satisfaction, then tosses it on his bed. Next he walks to the exercise bar in his bathroom doorway, and starts a series of chin-ups.

Having finished his routine, Scott gets ready for bed, brushing his teeth quickly and rinsing his mouth, then rubbing water over his face.

The house creaks suddenly, audible over the sounds of the tap running and Scott looks up. In the bathroom mirror, Scott looks at his own, scared, reflection, water dripping down his face.

"It's gotta be at least a few months ago." Melissa deduces perceptively, "With that scruffy hairdo."

Scott makes a face, smoothing his hair down on reflex. "It looked good!" he defends, and looks down. "...sometimes."

There's another creak and Scott's eyes flick around in confusion, listening intently. His eyes widen, anxiousness rising when there's yet another noise. He turns to his window, almost expecting someone to be there.

Allison narrows her eyes at the screen; she was pretty sure this was going to be the night Scott was turned. Not only because Scott had admitted that he'd stopped training almost immediately after being turned, but also because he just looked… different.

warily steps out onto the porch, fully dressed and holding a bat in his hands, nervously sliding his hands along the grip. He walks to the edge of his porch, looking over it hesitantly, bat raised.

Suddenly, a body flips down in front of him, hanging on the edge of the roof, shouting out "Rah!" jokingly.

Everyone jumps at Stiles' sudden entrance. "Oh, my god!" Melissa shouts, putting a hand to her chest. "Dammit Stiles,"

Her son laughs "At least you can relax knowing that he doesn't only do it to you."

With a scowl Melissa says, "Oddly enough, that doesn't actually make me feel better."

Scott jerks back, yelling, and lifts the bat up instinctively, still screaming. Stiles yelps back at Scott, hands waving wildly as he tries to move away from the threatening bat and shout for his friends attention at the same time. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Scott stops just in time, bat stilling in the perfect position to hit.

Both boys stare at each other, wide-eyed. "Stiles, what the hell are you doing?" Scott yells, jerking the bat as he spoke, like he'd like to hit his friend anyway.

"How many times has he done this?" Isaac asks, interested.

"Way too many times." John mutters, with a long, drawn out sigh. "If I ever have a heart attack, it'll be his fault." the Sheriff points lackadaisically at his son.

"Maybe you should eat healthier then." Stiles counters, "Then you won't have to worry about dying from a little scare."

Scott interrupts, scoffing. "'Little'. They're terrifying."

Stiles asks, "Shouldn't you be used to it by now?"

In reply Scott playfully shoves his best friend, saying, "No! And I don't want to be, so don't get any ideas."

"You weren't answering your phone!" Stiles yelps back breathlessly, twitching slightly. Still hanging upside down, he focuses his attention on the weapon in his friend's hand. "Why do you have a bat?"

Scott looks at the bat briefly, like he can't quite believe he's holding it, and looks back at Stiles. He huffs nervously, taking one hand off the bat to gesture with his hand. "I thought you were a predator." he defended, letting his choice of weapon droop slightly now that he no longer felt threatened.

Erica bursts out laughing, pressing her face into Boyd's neck to muffle the sound. "Oh my god, you two are priceless!"

Scott tries not to feel offended. "It's a legit concern, okay?"

"Suuuure." Erica giggles. "Okay."

"A pre-?" Stiles scoffs and waves his hand to change the topic, eager to get back on track. "Look, look I know it's late, but you gotta hear this." Stiles insists, letting his arms hang down, the motion of it making him sway. "I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called, they're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department and even State Police."

Scott's eyebrows furrowed. "For what?"

Stiles answers nonchalantly "Two joggers found a body in the woods.", flipping himself off the house.

"You say that so casually." Danny sighs. "Not normal."

"Since when have they ever been normal?" Jackson scoffs.

"Like you wouldn't have been a little bit interested." Stiles muttered.

"Nope, I don't care." Jackson says, and it's not even a lie.

"Because that's not weird at all…"

Scott leans forwards to watch Stiles drop. "A dead body?" Scott asks.

Stiles placed his hands on the porch railing, making a face. "No, a body of water." he said with feigned seriousness, then lets the expression drop into scathing disdain. "Yes, dumbass; a dead body." and scrambles up onto Scott's porch.

"You mean like murdered?" Scott asks, morbidly curious despite himself.

"Nobody knows yet." Stiles said, his hands resting on his hips with a sigh.

"Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties."

Derek's face closes off. He recognizes the night immediately. Erica, literally feeling him tense, asks, "What's wrong?"

Derek says tightly. "I know who it is." Boyd stays quiet, but shifts minutely closer to Derek. Comforting him silently, in a way Derek would appreciate. Isaac though, remembers this night, because his dad had mentioned the possibility of a new grave that might be needed.

At the time, Isaac had been out of the loop, and only slightly interested in the girl's death. Who wouldn't be, when everyone was talking about how she'd been found cut in half? Still, it didn't take a genius to connect Laura Hale with Derek. "I'm sorry." Isaac says lowly; Derek nods once, in acknowledgement.

Unusually perceptive, Scott asks. "Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?"

Stiles bounced excitedly. "That's the best part." he said. "They only found ha-lf." he makes his voice waver on the last word to gain Scott's interest, and is rewarded with Scott's eyebrows flying up. Stiles nods his head decisively, biting his lip. "We're going."

There was a pause, and then… "You two went?!" Melissa yells, giving Scott and Stiles a look that promised serious punishment. Both boys look suitably worried.

"Yep," John nods. "Of course they did."

Melissa rounds on him. "You knew about it?"

Now it was John's turn to look worried. "Um," he offers, intelligently.

"You two are so grounded." Melissa hisses. "Like, so incredibly, for the rest of your lives, grounded."

Both boys wince. "Aw, mom..." Scott tries.

"No!" Melissa insists.

"But-!"

"NO!"

The scene changes, and Stiles' jeep drives up to a chained off section of the forest with a sign that states BEACON HILLS PRESERVE with a smaller sign underneath with the instructions NO ENTRY AFTER DARK.

Stiles and Scott exit the jeep. "We're seriously doing this?" Scott asks, closing the jeep's door and walking up to Stiles, who was fiddling with a flashlight.

Stiles pats him on the shoulder. "You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town." he points out and walks ahead, eager to start looking.

"And that means you should go looking for half of a dead body?" Chris asks, shaking his head. No wonder so many teenagers were getting turned left, right and centre. Clearly, they had absolutely no sense.

Stiles, who had literally no defense, shrugged blithely. "It seemed like a good idea at the time?"

"You and your ideas need to stop." John grumps.

"I–I was trying to get a good sleep before practice tomorrow." Scott tries to stall, lifting his arms.

"Right. Cause, sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort." Stiles shoots back, trudging through the leaf covered forest with determination.

"No; because, I'm playing this year." Scott insists, stumbling across the leafy ground. "In fact, I'm making first line."

"Well, you weren't wrong." Isaac admits. "Even if you did surprise the heck out of everyone,"

Allison asks, "Was he really that bad?"

Jackson and Stiles say, at once, "Yes."

"Hey, that's the spirit." Stiles agrees, mockingly. "Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one."

Scott laughs forcefully at Stiles' caustic words. "Just out of curiosity, which…" he pauses, for a gruesome second, before continuing, "...half of the body are we looking for?"

Stiles pauses thoughtfully, then continues on walking. "Huh. I didn't even think about that." he laughs, and there's a waver in it.

John mutters to himself for a second. "You, my son, are going to kill me one day."

"Hah, yeah, sorry." Stiles grins. "You know I don't always think things through…"

"Understatement,"

Scott smiles at Stiles' words, expecting it but not impressed, and looks up at the sky, exasperated with the situation. He shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets, continuing. "And… uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?"

"How are you two not dead yet." Lydia asks scathingly. "Seriously, you two are like the kings of coming up with bad ideas."

Allison offers. "Luck, maybe."

Chris says warningly, "It's not a good idea to rely on luck."

"Not only luck though." Scott counters. "Sometimes the only reason we survive is because of running. Lots of running."

"With a healthy dose of screaming." Stiles chips in, making his dad groan loudly.

"And isn't that exhausting?" Danny asks. "Wouldn't it be nicer to maybe not have to scream and run?"

Smirking, Stiles replies, "Now where's the fun in that?"

Stiles tilts his head to the side, conceding to the point. "Also something I didn't think about," he admits, blowing out a breath. They started to climb a hill, Scott's breath leaving him as his asthma acts up.

"God, I forgot how bad it used to be…" Melissa comments, looking worriedly at the on-screen Scott.

"I completely forgot he had asthma…" John says, shaking his head. "Wow."

"It's … comforting to know you've … planned this out with your usual attention to detail." Scott gasps out.

"I know!" Stiles said breathlessly, heaving himself up the hill.

Scott's breath was quickening. "Maybe the … ah–" he leaned against a tree, gasping, and reached in his pocket for his inhaler. "... Severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?" he asked, gasping squeakily at the end of the sentence. He grabs his inhaler and shakes it, taking in deep gulps of breath.

Stiles flails up the hill, scrambling over near a tree root and flopping to the ground ungracefully, ducking his head a bit; Scott follows, still gasping, and throws himself down next to him.

"You two are so graceful." Boyd mutters. "I can't imagine why coach wouldn't let you two be in first line."

"I know right?" Stiles nods. "So unfair. I think coach just doesn't like us."

"Are you kidding?" Isaac pipes up. "He's practically in love with McCall."

"Maybe when he's actually winning." Jackson sneers. "Lately though, he's been showing up less and less. Doesn't make for a great co-captain…"

"There were things going on at the time, like the kanima." Scott reminds him. A few seats away, John mouths the unfamiliar word...

"And it doesn't matter anyway," Stiles interrupts, before a fight could break out. "Because, I saved the day, remember!"

"Surprisingly." Boyd says quietly, and Stiles discreetly flips him off.

They watch as policemen with flashlights get closer to their position, the sound of barking getting nearer and nearer. Stiles anxiously twists the flashlight off, flicking his eyes from the flashlight to where the police were approaching. Scott ducks his head more, but Stiles grins and scrambles to his feet. "Okay, come one!" Stiles whispers.

"Always running into danger," John despairs.

"Sometimes he has a reason." Derek comments, idly, and regrets it as soon as the Sheriff looks back to peer at him suspiciously. Still, he can't deny that Stiles had willingly put himself into danger more than once in an effort to help. Sure, he might never actually tell the kid that, but he appreciated it none the less.

"Stiles!" Scott yelps warningly, gasping worriedly and using his inhaler. He pushes off the ground to his feet and runs after his friend. "Wait up! Stiles!" he calls, trying to catch up.

Stiles says nothing, running at a crouch to minimize his visibility. Scott looks around desperately, searching for his friend as he runs out of sight. "Stiles!" he calls again, twisting his head around. Stiles stops. Hearing Scott's call, he looks behind himself, but sees nobody there.

Allison, abruptly, looks worried. Broken up with him or not, she still cares about Scott. "You're alone…"

Chris looks over at his daughter, giving her an inquiring look. Allison leans back and gestures to Scott and then her neck, making fangs with her fingers and Chris nods once, realization dawning. He pays closer attention.

A dog barks and Stiles turns, alarmed, right into a beam of a flashlight. He shrieks, waving a hand to protect his eyes and falls to the ground. Wriggling around to avoid the police dog, Stiles tries to move away from the police officer holding the lead.

John sighs again. "My son, I swear."

"Stay right there!" the policeman orders, and Scott, having caught up, hides behind a tree. "Hang on, hang on." a new voice interrupts, sounding angry and exasperated. Scott winces at the voice and straightens back against the tree.

Boyd's eyebrows furrow. "Why are you hiding?"

"I didn't want mom to find out." Scott said. "He would have told her."

"You're damn right I would have told her." John growls. "I knew you were there with Stiles."

Stiles grins. "You already found that out."

"Doesn't mean I can't be pissed about the lie."

Sheriff Stilinski walks up to the policeman and Stiles, squinting through the darkness. "This little delinquent belongs to me." he admits, sighing at Stiles.

"I am not a delinquent." Stiles said firmly.

John scoffed. "Yeah, sure. It's not like you've ever had a restraining order given to you or anything, right?"

Having nothing intelligent to say to that, Stiles huffed loudly, crossing his arms.

Stiles was on his feet, moving an arm away from his face from its protective position to squint back at his father. "Dad, how're you doing?" Stiles asks, feigning casualness.

Sheriff Stilinski glares at his son with clear disapproval. "So, do you, ah, listen in to all of my phone calls?" he asks.

"No!" Stiles shakes his head tiredly, still in shock. He looks at his dad and opens his mouth, no doubt to spout off a lie, before giving up and admitting the truth. "Well, not the boring ones."

Jackson snorts. "You can't say you wouldn't do the same." Danny points out, slyly. "I would. And I know you look at your dad's cases."

"I've caught him acting out some of them too." Lydia mock whispers, and the wolfy half the room perks up at the blackmail material.

"Shut. Up." Jackson hisses.

"Or what?" Lydia challenges. "You claw at me with your blunted fingernails?"

Sheriff Stilinski nods and looks around. "Now, where's your usual partner in crime?"

Stiles, chest still heaving, tries to laugh nonchalantly. "Who, Scott?" he said, the high pitch to his voice betraying his lie. "Sc–Scott's home. He said he wanted to get a… good night's sleep for first day back at school tomorrow." Stiles said, and waves a hand dismissively. "It's just me, in the woods… alone."

"You don't even need to hear heartbeats to know that that was a lie." Isaac mutters, to Erica and Boyd.

Scott peeks out from behind the tree and watches as Sheriff Stilinski points his flashlight out into the woods, ducking away from the beam of light, mouthing curses. "Scott, you out there? Scott?" he hears the Sheriff call.

"Don't fall for it. It's a trap."

Scott snickers at his friend, "Dude, this already happened."

Blinking Stiles replies, "...right."

The sheriff sighs in defeat, rubbing his hands and looking back to his son. "Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car," he grabs Stiles by the back of his neck, ignoring Stiles' pained noises. "And you and I are going to have a conversation about something called 'Invasion of Privacy'."

Scott watches them walk away, thumping his head against the tree, defeated, as his ride home was lead away. He sighs, shaking his head, and moves away from the tree.

"Annd, you're alone again." Allison says in a huff.

"Is him being alone important?" Danny asks.

"It is when I'm pretty sure I know what happens next." Allison answers, and the look on Scott's face is enough to tell her that her theory about the night they're watching is correct.

Left alone, Scott attempts to retrace their steps, nervously looking around when his ears picks up sounds from afar. He continues to walk, pulling his hood up, getting increasingly nervous as the forest gets creepier with each noise.

Scott sighs, completely confused at his surroundings. His head snaps upwards, hearing a sound from the tree tops, looking for something, anything.

Melissa and John tense up, worried; something was going to happen, why else would it be shown, if it wasn't important?

"Come on, Scott." John mutters. "Get out of there."

He stops suddenly, peering into the inky black of the forest. Scott takes out his inhaler, shaking it slowly and brings it to his mouth. Suddenly, his eyes open wide and he flings his arm out. A deer jumps through the trees towards him, a herd of deer following.

"Whoa," Erica whistles. "That's weird." Boyd nods in agreement.

"Deer only do that when something spooks them. Badly." Derek says, quietly.

"Do you know what could scare a herd that much?" Boyd asks, looking perceptive.

"I can think of a few things." Chris stares firmly at the screen, knowing perfectly well what spooked them.

Scott yells and drops to the ground, his inhaler flying out of his hands and landing away from him. He rolls out of the way, desperately trying to avoid being trampled. Deer after deer run towards Scott, leaping over him, and continue on, twisting out of the way of each other.

With the stampede of frightened deer gone, Scott blinks in shock, looking from where they came, back to where they left. "God." he mutters. He climbs to his feet shakily, dusting off leaves and dirt from his pants. Scott pulls out his phone and turns it on, using it as a light to find his inhaler.

He searches the ground, pushing away leaves, until his phone's light passes over something. Scott does a double take, moving his phone's light back to where he saw the shape.

Lydia stiffens, "Oh god, no." Isaac whimpers, "Was that what I think it was?" looking green.

Scott recoils, yelling, as the upper half of a dead girl is revealed, eyes staring sightlessly ahead.

Stiles flinches back from the TV. "Ugh!"

Scott makes a face. "Bleh…" It was even worse going through it a second time.

"Of course he finds the body." John huffs. "My men are out there for hours, and he just stumbles upon it."

Derek, who had looked away the second he'd seen the outline of the body, makes a noise of pain.

Scott scrambles back and hits the edge of a hill, slipping and rolling down painfully. A pained gasp leaves his lips when he hits a tree, body rag-dolling down the hill. When Scott hit the bottom in a heap, he looks back to where he knows the body is. Fearfully, he starts to crawl away.

Melissa's lips tighten. She was afraid, even knowing that he'd live. She wasn't quite sure how a werewolf got turned, but she wasn't stupid. There had to be a reason all werewolf myths involved a bite.

Scott grasps a fallen tree and heaves himself over it, walking with more confidence. He stops short, face twisting in fear, at the sound of a dangerous growl from somewhere behind him.

Scott turns his head slowly, eyes widening as they take in the sight of a large creature with glowing eyes, crouched down threateningly. The creature leaps forwards, and Scott has enough time to widen his eyes further before the beast was on him.

Lydia can't help but stare transfixed at the familiar form attacking Scott. "A mountain lion…" she whispers to herself, voice shaking. "Oh god..."

Jackson, looking put out, grabs her hand like it's a pain to have to offer comfort. As Lydia gladly takes it, though, he gives it a quick squeeze, looking carefully away from her face.

"Thank you." Lydia mumbles.

Scott was shoved to the ground with a scream, landing on his back. He looks up and yells again, flipping around to get away, only to be dragged back towards the animal. He tries to get a grip on a root near his hands, but is just dragged back. The sound of snapping teeth reaches Scott's ears, before he screams in pain as the creature bites his side.

Stiles winces, "Ouch," pulling a face.

"Yeah, that hurt." Scott said making a similar face.

"Jesus…" John curses quietly.

"That...wow. Are you okay?" Melissa just stares at the screen, cluing in on what the monster biting him means. Her hands involuntarily ball up into fists.

Scott shoves away from the creature and rolls away from it, scrambling to his feet and booking it out of the area. He runs through the forest, tripping over his own feet as he shoves his way through the underbrush.

Running straight into the middle of the road, Scott narrowly avoids getting hit by a red minivan, which swerves out of the way just in time.

Allison's eyes widen. "That was you?" she nearly shrieks. "I almost killed you!"

Scott's head whips to the side to stare at her in shock. "That was you?" he asks, dumbfounded.

Allison nods. "Me and mom, yeah." she swallows tightly, shrugging off the wave of misery at the mere mention of her mother. "I thought you were some crazy homeless guy or something."

Scott watches the minivan speed away, gasping for breath, before twisting around and pulling his hoodie up. A nasty bite on his side is revealed, bleeding sluggishly.

Melissa sucked in a worried breath. "Oh, jeeze, that looks bad."

"If it makes you feel better, it healed all right…" Scott tries, jokingly.

"It really doesn't."

Letting his hoodie drop, Scott looks at the empty road. In the distance, a far off howl echoes through the area.

The screen blackens and the words TEEN WOLF appear, bright and centre.

"Teen wolf?" Erica scoffs.

John takes in the title for a second and his eyes narrow. Connections start being made...

The scene changes to the front of Beacon Hills High School, bell ringing loudly.

"Well, that was an abrupt change." Danny mutters.

"I guess nothing else happened that was worth showing?" Lydia offers.

Scott rides into the parking lot on his bicycle, stopping at the bike rack. Jackson's Porsche drives up right by him, and said boy makes sure to hit Scott with the door of his car as he gets out. Scott glances back at Jackson, shooting the car a look that was both envious and annoyed.

Jackson gets up in his face, attempting to be intimidating. "Dude, watch the paint job."

"You bumped into him." Allison sniffs.

Scott blinks at him blankly, unsure, until one of Jackson's friends calls him and Jackson leaves with a condescending shake of his head.

The scene changes, as Stiles arrives.

"Okay, lets see this thing." Stiles says, standing in front of Scott expectantly.

Melissa leans forwards, intent on studying the wound.

Scott lifts up his shirt obligingly, and Stiles makes an excited noise. He tentatively touches at the bandages taped to Scott's side.

Melissa makes an approving noise at the well bandaged wound.

"Whoa!" Scott protests, jerking his body away from Stiles' fingers like he was electrocuted.

"Did it hurt?" Allison asks Scott.

"No," Scott shakes his head. "It was more me being afraid that it would hurt."

Allison nods. "Hmm." Scott keeps looking back at her, hoping she'd try to talk to him again. She didn't.

Stiles makes a pained face, keeping his hand a safe distance from Scott's skin while Scott lowers his shirt.

"It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf." Scott said, sliding his backpack and lacrosse stick over his shoulder. Stiles raises his eyebrows and both of boys start to walk toward the school.

"A wolf bit you?" he asks, disbelieving. At Scott's 'Ah huh', Stiles continues. "No, not a chance." he says, snorting.

"There aren't wolves in Beacon Hills." John comments. "Not for years." he takes a minute to consider this, and mentally tallies another thing about the whole situation that doesn't make sense.

Stiles points at his dad excitedly. "I know! That's what I said!"

"I heard a wolf howling." Scott insists.

"No, you didn't." Stiles shrugs.

Scott laughs. "What do you mean 'No I didn't', how do you know what I heard?"

"Because California doesn't have wolves, okay." Stiles said, stopping to face Scott. "Not in, like, sixty years."

Scott squints in confusion, the smile falling from his face. "Really?"

"Yes, really." Stiles says mockingly. "There are no wolves in California."

Scott blinks and raises his eyebrows. "Alright, well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not going to believe me when I tell you I found the body."

Scott, realizing now just how tactless they'd been about the murder, looks at Derek. Seeing his tense posture, he mutters an apology at him. "Sorry."

Derek acknowledges the apology with a sharp nod of his head. "I mean it, this has gotta be awful for you." Scott insists. "I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter," Derek says forcefully. "I just want to get through this quickly."

Stiles jerks and places a hand near Scott's shoulder excitedly. "Are you kidding me?"

Scott shakes his head. "No, I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month."

Stiles laughs excitedly, nearly choking on it. "Oh god, that is freaking awesome." he said, laughing again. "I mean, this is seriously going to be the best thing that's happened to this town since–" J

ohn begins to open his mouth, but Stiles waves him off. "Yeah I know, 'foot in mouth', 'think before you speak'…" he chews on his lip. "I know, I'm trying to work on it."

He cuts himself off when he spots a familiar strawberry blonde, eyes drooping happily at the sight of his crush. "–Since the birth of Lydia Martin." he continues loudly, turning to follow her with his eyes. Lydia ignores Stiles, uncaring, as Stiles continues to ramble. "Hey Lydia, you look… like you're gonna ignore me." he finishes, crestfallen.

Lydia's lips pursed. Yeah, fine, she knew about Stiles' crush. Who didn't? At the time, he'd been someone who she never really interacted with, more of an annoyance who she could ignore and hope that he'd realize that she had no interest. Knowing him now though, she felt cruel. Even though she didn't actually owe him anything, except maybe some of the kindness he'd shown her, Lydia still felt bad. Silently resolving to make more of an effort to be kinder towards Stiles, without trying to encourage his interest, Lydia continued watching.

Stiles pouts, and stamps his foot, turning back to Scott. "You're the cause of this, you know." Stiles says accusingly.

Scott humors him. "Uh huh." he says, closing his eyes.

"Dragging me down to your nerd depths," Stiles says. The bell rings, making the boys move to enter the school. "I'm a nerd by association. I've been scarlet nerded by you."

"Scarlet nerded?" Allison snorts.

"I was trying to be creative." Stiles admits.

"It is creative." Allison says. "It's just also weird."

The scene changes to a classroom.

"As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night." a teacher drones on, while writing on the board.

"He sounds so utterly bored with it all." Danny observes. "That's not much better than excitement over it."

"He always sounds bored." Erica groans. "It's so hard not to fall asleep in his classes."

At the word 'Body', Scott looks over at Stiles, who winks at him. The boys smile at each other and re-focus on the teacher.

"And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened." the teacher continues mockingly, facing the board and away from the class of bored children. "But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody,"

"Not a very good teacher is he?" John whispers to Melissa.

"He seems a bit fed up with his job." Melissa agrees.

"He does, he hates it." Isaac pipes up. "Sometimes we hear him muttering about how much he hates us all."

"He's too old to try a new career path, so he takes it out on the students." Lydia adds.

At that Scott looks at Stiles expectantly, who shrugs, looking put out at not knowing.

"Which means, you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus," the teacher continues, ignoring the groans of protest from his students. "Which is on your desk outlining this semester,"

Scott picks up the syllabus tiredly. He drops it in pain when a cell phone rings loudly, the sound of it hurting his ears and making him cringe; Scott looks around for the source, seeing no one move to get it, or even seeming to notice.

"Huh." John comments, suspiciously watching the scene play out. "That's interesting…"

Scott sticks a finger in his ear, continuing to look around the classroom to try and find the source. The ringing stops for a few seconds, before there's a beep and a female voice speaking. "Mom, three calls on my first day is a little overdoing it..."

Allison blinks. "You could hear that?"

Shrinking down into his seat, Scott looks at her meekly. "Um, yeah?"

Allison, teeth gritted, gives Scott a death glare. "Really? I'll be sure to remember that." she huffs quietly, and then makes a connection, and huffs again. "It also explains the pen."

Scott follows the sound to the window, looking out to see Allison, phone perched between her ear and her shoulder, digging through her bag, "Everything except a pen, oh my god, I didn't actually forget a pen." she mutters. "Okay, okay! I gotta go, love you."

Scott watches as Allison puts her phone back in her bag and stands as the Principal walks up to her.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." the principal says to Allison, who stands to walk with him. "So, you were saying San Francisco isn't where you grew up..." he continues.

Scott stares at Allison, following the sound of her voice. "No, but we lived there for more than a year, which is unusual in my family." he tracks her voice, even through the walls, as they continued to discuss Allison's moving.

"That must have sucked," Isaac says, "Moving all the time."

Shoulders hunched, Allison snorts bitterly, "You have no idea."

"Sorry." Chris mutters, but he wasn't, really. They had to move; to save people.

"Yeah right," Allison glares.

"I'm sorry you have to move, but not that I have too." Chris says this time. "It's necessary for what we do."

With a derisive snort she looks at her father. "Maybe you should quit then." Allison suggests. "It's not like we've been doing that good of a job."

Chris looks away, jaw tight.

"Well, hopefully Beacon Hills will be your last stop for a while." the principal says, and Scott continues to listen to their footsteps until it stops at the door for the classroom he is in, heart pounding.

"That's…" John trails off. "How are you hearing all that? That's impossible." he adds yet another weird thing to his list.

Lydia tilts her head at the screen. "Interesting; and very useful."

The door opens and the principal steps in, along with Allison, while Scott stares, transfixed.

"Class, this is our new student Allison Argent." he introduced. "Please do your best to make her feel welcome." Allison walks briskly to the empty desk behind Scott, avoiding eye contact and grasping her bag the front of her tightly.

Scott waits until she sits down, discreetly picking up a pen, and slowly turns to hand it to her with a little smile. Allison furrows her eyebrows, confused, but accepts the pen with a friendly smile. "Thanks."

Erica smirks. "That was pretty smooth, Scott."

Beaming, Scott says proudly, "Thanks."

Looking at the screen Isaac muses, "So that's where it started."

"The epic love story," Boyd adds, sounding bored.

Scott stares at her for a few lingering seconds, before turning back when the teacher begins to speak again. Allison looks at the pen thoughtfully, then flicks her eyes to Scott's back, intrigued.

Scott grins, flipping a page in his binder to do what the teacher instructed.

The scene changes, showing an empty hallway as the bell rang, which then filled with students proceeding to their classes and stopping at their lockers.

Allison walks up to her locker, fiddling with the lock as Scott watches her from across the hallway. Allison turns, catching Scott's eyes and smiles at him.

"Oh my god, you two are so disgusting." Jackson complains.

"Shut up." Danny groans. "Just because you're jealous…"

Jackson makes a face, "I am not jealous!"

"That jacket is absolutely killer." Lydia said admiringly, walking up and stopping in front of Allison, claiming her attention. "Where'd you get it?"

Allison looks at Lydia and says, "My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco," in explanation.

Lydia smiles at her. "And you are my new best friend." she says, pointing at Allison.

"I am still happy with that decision." Lydia remarks; she and Allison share a grin.

"Me too," Allison agrees.

"Though, next time, don't ever keep stuff from me like that again." Lydia adds seriously.

"I promise, I won't,"

Jackson runs up to Lydia and slides a hand against her waist, grabbing her attention. "Hey, Jackson," Lydia greets warmly, hugging his waist and bringing him in for a kiss.

Both Lydia and Jackson look away from the screen, uncomfortable.

From across the hallway, a classmate approaches Scott's locker, where Stiles has also drifted. "Can someone tell me how new girl is here all of five minutes and she's already hanging out with Lydia's clique?"

"We haven't really hung out with her recently." Scott whispers to Stiles, looking shamefaced.

"Well, we've been a little busy." Stiles says, but the guilty look on his face betrays his seeming nonchalance.

"We gotta make time for her, man." Scott says.

Stiles nods his head. "Yeah, but hopefully not when we're, you know, trying not to get killed."

"Because she's hot," Stiles says with a sigh. At the girl's blank look, Stiles shrugs. "Beautiful people herd together."

The scene moves back to where Allison, Lydia and Jackson were. "So," Lydia said, looking back to Allison and folding her arms over her chest. "This weekend, there's a party."

The screen moves to Scott's face, who was listening intently. "A party?" he hears Allison ask. "Yeah, Friday night; you should come." he hears Jackson reply.

"You are so creepy." Erica snorts, "Listening into your crushes conversations."

"Right, like you've never done that." Isaac challenges.

"True," Erica admits. "But at least I knew them for longer than a class period."

The scene changes back to Allison and her friends, Scott still listening in.

"Uh, I can't it's family night this Friday."

It switches back to Scott, leaning against his locker with a grim smile on his face; both ashamed and relieved. "Thanks for asking." he heard Allison say, completely ignoring the conversation Stiles was having with the girl that had approached them earlier.

"You sure?" Jackson asks, and Scott leans his head near the lockers, cocking an ear up slightly. "Everyone's going after the scrimmage."

"You mean like football?"

Danny laughs. "Football."

"Football's a joke a Beacon." Jackson scoffed. "The sport here is lacrosse; we've won the state championship here for the past three years." Jackson bragged, letting Lydia groom his hair.

"Because of a certain team captain," Lydia said proudly, kissing Jackson.

"Not anymore." Scott says, grinning.

"Shut your mouth." Jackson growls lowly.

The screen flashes back to Scott, still staring and not blinking. "Well we have practice in a few minutes. That is, if you don't have anything else..." Scott hears Jackson say.

"Well… I was going to..." he hears Allison start to say, but she's cut off by Lydia.

"Perfect, you're coming." Lydia said, as the screen flashes back to show her pulling Jackson and Allison away. Allison moves to follow, looking back at Scott as she goes.

"You just dragged her along?" Chris asks.

"Please," Lydia huffs. "It's not like she didn't enjoy it, once she saw Scott out there."

Allison pipes up. "True."

The scene moves to the Lacrosse field, players practicing and the sounds of Coach Finnstock's whistle piercing the air.

"But if you play, I'll have no one to talk to on the bench." Stiles points out as they walk to practice. "You really gonna do that to your best friend?"

"Your boredom is more important than your friends?" John asks.

"Sometimes. It depends." Stiles shrugs.

"On what?" Danny ventures, warily.

"On the situation," Stiles says cryptically.

Erica smirks at Isaac and Boyd. "This should be interesting." she said quietly.

Boyd nods in agreement. "First time using wolf powers during a sport."

"Can't wait to see Jackson's face," Isaac snickers, with an evil grin on his face. "Scott's going to annihilate him."

Derek says nothing, a small upwards tilt to his lips betraying his amusement. He'd heard Scott and Stiles talking in the woods after the practice; he knew exactly how it went.

"This is going to be great." Erica cackles.

"I can't sit out again." Scott says decisively. "My whole life is sitting on the sidelines, this season I make first line." he finishes, as Allison and Lydia make their way up the bleachers to watch. Scott turns to look up at her, both of them sharing a grin.

"Actually, my life is sitting on the sidelines." Stiles says grumpily.

"You do stuff!" Scott insists.

"Research, mostly." Stiles says. "And the occasional accident, which usually ends badly."

"Research is important." Lydia insists firmly, and Stiles perks up a bit.

"Yeah, I would've been so lost without you!" Scott nods, bobbing his head over-enthusiastically.

"McCall!" calls Finstock as he jogs up to Scott. "Yeah?" Scott asks, turning to face him. "You're in goal." Finstock says, throwing a goalie stick and helmet at Scott.

Melissa's face twists in confusion. "You don't play goal." she said, looking over at her son.

"Nope," Scott agrees cheerfully.

"Then… why are you in goal?" Melissa asks. "Why'd he make you go in goal?"

Scott looks around, worried. "Uh… I've never played..."

Finstock nods. "I know, scoring some shots will give the boys a confidence boost. It's a first day back thing." he slaps Scott's shoulder good-naturedly. "Get them energized, fired up!"

"What about me?" Scott asks.

"Try not to take any in the face." Finstock said seriously, patting Scott's cheek and turning to the rest of the team. "Let's go, come on!" he called, clapping his hands together.

"What a great coach he is." Chris mutters, sarcastically.

"What a dead coach." Melissa says angrily. "What kind of advice is that?"

Derek shrugs. "It's not great advice, but it is true."

Melissa glares at him. "You approve of that?"

"Kids get hurt. They either learn to not get hurt, or give up." Derek insists.

Beside Lydia, Allison watches as Scott walks to the goalie's net. Scott nervously lets his eyes drift back to Allison. He rolls his shoulders, trying to calm down and focus his mind.

Without looking away from Scott, Allison shifts her body towards Lydia. "Who is that?" she asks.

Lydia flicks her eyes to Scott. "Him?" she says disdainfully, unimpressed. "I'm not sure who he is." she says.

"You do now." Scott says proudly.

"That's because you became worth knowing." Lydia says. She looks serious, but her voice has a teasing edge to it.

Scott laughs. "Thanks."

From the field, Scott tilts his head slightly as he hears Lydia's voice. He looks up at Allison and Lydia. "Why?" Lydia asks.

Scott's head is cocked, still listening, waiting for Allison's reply.

Allison frowns at the TV. "I don't like how often you spy on my conversations."

Scott winces. "Can you blame me?" he tries.

Tilting her head thoughtfully, Allison nods. "Maybe not, but I still don't like it."

"I wish I could listen to conversations like that." John says, idly. "It'd make my job so much simpler."

Stiles and Scott share a horrified look, shuddering; Werewolf police.

Allison smiles shyly. "He's in my English class."

Suddenly, a referee blows his whistle. Scott's increased hearing backfires dramatically, as the shrill noise pierces his eardrums. He grabs at both sides of his helmet, trying to block out the noise as his vision twists, screwed up with the noise reverberating in his skull.

The rest of the werewolves in the room give Scott sympathetic looks. Their reactions had all been the same when they'd first heard a whistle or bell at close range.

Distracted, Scott misses the lacrosse player approaching; he whips the ball right at him.

"Ouch." Chris said bluntly, knowing what was going to happen.

The ball nails Scott in the helmet, right where his eye would be if it weren't for the helmet's cage. Scott tumbles back with the force of the hit, falling into the goal with a grunt.

Danny winces. "Ooh, that looked even more painful from your perspective."

"It wasn't that bad." Scott said mildly.

"Good thing you had a helmet on." John says. That ball would've hurt like hell if it didn't. Worse, he could have lost an eye.

Finstock, Jackson and the others laugh. "Hey way to catch it in the face, McCall," a player taunts as Scott regains his bearings and slowly gets up. He shares an exasperated look with Stiles, who winces in sympathy.

"What kind of team discourages their players like that?" Melissa asks angrily.

Stiles snorts. "The kind that's seen us make fools out of ourselves multiple times."

Scott nods. "Yeah, like that time in gym class where we–"

Stiles cuts him off by slamming his hand over Scott's mouth. "We do not speak of that!" he reminds him fiercely. "Ever!"

John looks at them weirdly, and then shakes his head. He doesn't want to know.

Scott rolls his shoulders, mentally preparing himself. The next player takes the ball and darts forwards. He throws the ball hard, but to everyone's surprise, Scott catches it. Scott looks down at the ball in his lacrosse net and blinks, jerking his head back in surprise. Scott looks back at the other players, grinning at his luck.

"You'd think you've never caught the ball before." Erica mutters.

"He hadn't," the lacrosse players chorus.

"We were benched for a reason." Stiles explains. "Coach only uses us as a last resort, because we suck."

"Well, I used to suck." Scott corrects. "Now I'm awesome."

The rest of the lined up lacrosse team, minus Stiles, leans sideways to stare at Scott incredulously.

"That bad, huh?" Derek says. You'd never guess it, with how well Scott had adapted to the bite. None of his betas were that good.

The scene moves to Stiles, who straightens up in shock, eyebrows flying up to his hairline. "Yeah!" he cheered, looking proud but confused.

"I didn't know what to think." Stiles says. "You'd never been even remotely good at lacrosse before then."

The screen flashes to Finstock, eyes wide and speechless, staring blankly at Scott. The next player in the line receives the ball, darting up. Scott flexes his hand along the lacrosse stick, feeling more confident as the player gets closer and closer. The player throws the ball, and Scott leans down, catching the low toss easily.

"How are you doing that?" John asks.

Scott looks shifty. "Uh, I'm sure it'll explain." John nods, but looks decidedly unhappy about it. He wants his answers now.

"Yeah!" Stiles cheers again. Less dumbfounded and more excited.

"Good old Stiles." Scott says.

"I'll always cheer for you, man," Stiles promises, slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders.

The screen switches back to Finstock, still speechless. It moves back to Scott, who is catching ball after ball. After a while, the gathered crowd starts to cheer for him.

"First time that ever happened." Danny says.

"I don't think anyone ever got over the shock." Lydia nods. "Except maybe Allison, but that's only because she was new."

Allison jumps in, "Yeah that was a little confusing. You talked about him like he was nobody, but he was better than most of the team."

Jackson huffs. "He wasn't that good."

Snorting delicately, Lydia challenges his statement. "Considering his previous attempts at playing? Then yes, actually, he was very good."

The screen turns back to Allison and Lydia; watching Scott effortlessly play in goal with admiration. "He seems like he's pretty good." Allison said.

Lydia nods speculatively. "Yeah, very good." she raises her eyebrows, impressed in spite of her earlier dismissive attitude towards Scott.

"Why, thank you." Scott says, demurely.

"You're welcome." Lydia says distractedly, focused on the screen. It was really interesting, seeing it from Scott's perspective.

The scene moves back to Scott, grinning happily. He bounces on the spot excitedly.

Melissa smiles at the scene, amused and proud.

Jackson moves out of his place in line, angrily pushing a player out of the way with his stick. He glares furiously at Scott, who looks back at him in horror. "Oh god," Scott mutters.

Erica leans forwards eagerly, excited to watch Jackson humiliate himself. "Come on, Scott."

After a quick glare from Erica Isaac adds half-heartedly, "You can do it," It's not like he can change the past by cheering.

Jackson launches himself forward, but to Scott's eyes he seems to move in slow motion.

Finstock, Allison and Stiles watch intently as Jackson gets closer to Scott. Scott tracks Jackson's moves as he charged, throwing the ball hard, and he moves his body accordingly, catching the ball. Stiles launches himself up off the bench spastically, waving his arms and hollering happily.

Erica cheers.

"Yes!" Boyd says, a lot calmer, and nods approvingly at Scott, "Nice."

Stiles claps Scott on the shoulder. "You're awesome, dude."

Scott looks down at the ball in his stick's net and slowly lets a grin crawl over his face. Finstock's eyes widen in shock, still speechless, helpless to watch as one of his worst players continues to be one of the best.

Danny snickers. "Finstock doesn't know what to do."

"That's because he's not prepared to deal with magically improving students." John says wryly.

Danny concedes to his point. "I suppose."

Stiles pumps a fist in the air. "That is my friend!" he shouts proudly, looking back to the spectators on the bleachers.

Lydia stands up to cheer. From the field, Jackson glares at her accusingly. Lydia shoots him a challenging look.

Scott twirls his goalie stick, moving it back and launching the lacrosse ball at one of the referee's. The ball lands in the dumbfounded ref's stick. Scott smirks and nods at the man.

"Nice," Erica grins. "Very cool."

"I thought so." Scott nods.

"I was lying."

"Oh."

The scene fast-forwards, now at the Beacon Hills Preserve.

Scott and Stiles jump over a creek, walking steadily through the forest. "I– I don't know what it was, It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball." Scott says, turning to Stiles.

"Hmm," John says, scratching his chin. This is all very odd. Normal people don't experience things like that. They couldn't hear things through walls as clearly as Scott could. They didn't magically get better at sports either; more things to add to the ever growing list.

"That's interesting." Lydia says mildly.

"And...That's not the only weird thing..." Scott continues, ducking down under a low branch. "I can hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things."

"Smell things." Stiles asks, disbelieving. "Like what?" he laughs.

Scott continues to walk, turning himself towards Stiles briefly, and then turning back around. "Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket."

Stiles stops and digs through his pockets, humoring his friend. "I don't even have any mint mojito..." he trails off, pulling a piece of lint covered gum out of his pocket and makes a face.

Scott lifts his arms in a shrug at Stiles' gaping and turns with a sigh, resuming his steady pace.

"You can smell that?" Lydia asks. "How much, exactly, can you smell on people?" she says.

"More than I want too." Scott says, nose wrinkling.

John narrows his eyes. "What the hell is going on with you?"

Scott looks at him and laughs nervously. "You'll find out soon?"

"So all this started with the bite?" Stiles asks.

"Well, what if it's like an infection?" Scott hypothesizes. "Like, what if my body is flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?"

"It's nothing I've ever seen before." Melissa says. She knows, of course, what is going on, but plays along anyway.

Stiles sighs. "You know what? I actually think I've heard of this." Stiles said, looking down. "It's a specific kind of infection."

Scott stops, staring back at Stiles. "Are you serious?"

Scott rolls his eyes. "I can't believe I fell for that."

Stiles puts his hands on his hips. "Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called..." he takes a deep breath. "Lycanthropy,"

Scott's brow furrows, "What's that? Is it bad?" he asks apprehensively.

Boyd laughs. "Really Scott?"

Throwing his hands up in resignation the other werewolf groans. "Yes, yes. I know I'm uneducated in the ways of pop culture." Scott sighs.

Stiles nods, continuing the joke. "Oh yeah, it's the worst, but only once a month."

Scott looks at Stiles quizzically. "Once a month?"

"Mm hmm." Stiles nods. "On the night of the full moon," he gazes at Scott seriously for a few seconds, and then howls mockingly. Scott rolls his eyes, shoving at his friend playfully. "Hey!" Stiles protests, "You're the one who heard a wolf howling." he said, holding up his hands.

John suddenly sits up straight. "Wait…" he says, looking over at Scott incredulously. "Wait, wait, wait a second…" he takes a deep breath and then looks at Derek, and his assembled pack. "You're… you're all…" John trails off.

"Oh boy," Stiles breathes out, worried, and grabs onto his father's shoulders. "Dad, hey, dad? Calm down okay?"

John bursts out, "How can I be calm?" and points at Scott. "He's a-!"

Stiles says firmly, "I know dad, okay?" letting his hands drop. "I know, and it's okay."

John takes a shaky breath, and holds up a finger sternly at his son's face. "We are talking about this later."

Stiles nods his head frantically. "Absolutely,"

From his spot on another couch, Danny makes a confused face. How the sheriff figured something out from Stiles' stupid joke was beyond him, but he was getting sick of being out of the loop.

"Yeah, there could be something seriously wrong with me!" Scott yells, glaring at Stiles.

"I know! You're a werewolf!" Stiles says, grinning, and growls. "Arrr!"

"Oh my god…" John groans, and rubs his hair roughly. "I am way too old for this…"

Scott turns his head to give him a look and Stiles chuckles. "Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's cause Friday's the full moon."

"Silver won't do anything." Chris mutters; even if it was tradition to use it on special occasions.

Scott stops suddenly, looking at the ground. "Yeah, I could have sworn this was it." he says, gesturing to the leaf covered forest floor. "I saw the body, the deer came running… I dropped my inhaler." Scott crouches down and searches through the leaves.

"Oh thank god the body is gone." Lydia sighs in relief.

"Oh, ew, I forgot about that." Isaac says, looking faintly green.

John shoots Derek a considering look. "Is this when you…" he trails off, looking at Derek questioningly.

"I took the body, yes." Derek nods, and Jackson and his beta's give him horrified looks.

"Maybe the killer moved the body." Stiles suggests.

John scowls at his son. "Don't say that so nonchalantly."

Scott sighs from his crouched position. "If he did, I hope he left my inhaler." he looks up at Stiles. "Those things are like… eighty bucks."

Melissa sighs. "That's right, worry about the money. Not the potential murderer in the woods."

Scott looks down at the leaves, dejected. Neither Scott or Stiles see Derek, who's suddenly standing behind them.

Melissa blinks. "Wow, that's… creepy."

Scott moans. "Tell me about it."

Stiles adds "He does that so often."

Stiles looks back, spotting Derek, and jolts. "Oh my–!" he taps Scott to get his attention and fiddles awkwardly with the collar of his hoodie.

Scott stands up, while Derek walks up to the two teens. "What are you doing here?" he demands. Scott stays silent, staring at Derek, while Stiles guiltily scratches his head and looks away. "Huh?" Derek prompts, expecting a response from one of them. "This is private property."

Stiles decides to speak up. "Uh, sorry man, we didn't know."

John snorts. "Like that would stop you."

Scott continues to stare at Derek intently. "Yeah we were just..." he gestured at the empty ground. "Looking for something but..." he trails off and Derek raises his eyebrows impatiently. "Uh, forget it. Uh..."

John laughs. "Look at that, someone who can render you nearly speechless!"

Stiles crosses his arms over his chest and gives his father a fierce scowl. "Shut up."

Derek grabs something from his pocket, chucking it at the teens. Scott catches it instinctively. Derek stalks away from them, while Scott looks down at the inhaler now in his hand.

Stiles gapes at Derek's back and Scott turns to him. "Alright, I gotta go to work."

"You meet someone like Derek, and all you can think of is work?" Isaac says numbly.

"I really like work." Scott admits. "It's fun, with Deaton."

Isaac, Boyd, and Erica say in tandem "Weird."

Stiles stops him and slaps a hand on Scott's chest. "Dude, that was Derek Hale. You remember, right? He's only like, a few years older than us." he says, turning back to watch where Derek disappeared.

Derek tenses.

"Remember what?" Danny asks, curiously.

Sighing heavily, Derek says, "I'm sure it'll say."

"Remember what?" Scott asks.

"His family?" Stiles explains. "They all burned to death in a fire like, ten years ago."

Scott and Stiles both look at where Derek had stood. "I wonder what he's doing back." Scott asks.

Stiles huffs and shrugs, turning to leave.

Danny makes a noise of comprehension, and looks down. "Oh. Yeah."