"That changes the input of the TV." I muttered trying to restrain myself from grabbing the remote from my father and getting it onto the show he wanted.

"Why do we even need this many buttons?" Sheriff Stilinksi, aka my father, jabbed at the remote with a brute force.

I sighed. "Because this is the twenty-first century, not the seventeenth."

Dad fell back on the sofa and moaned. We had just changed our tv receiver and that meant getting a new TV remote and that meant that my dad had to get used to our new remote and that meant thirty minutes of cursing and yelling about how technology is supposed to make things easier, not harder.

"I give up." I surrendered the remote to me. I can honestly say that was one of the rarest moments in the Stilinski family history. My father actually let me be in charge of the TV.

I crossed my legs and got all the settings properly adjusted and in thirty seconds House Hunters was playing on our screen. I laid back and relaxed. My brother had gone 'camping' with Scott, Lydia, Malia, and Kira. At least, my dad thought they were camping. I, however, knew the truth: they were down in Mexico searching for Derek, who had gone missing a while back.

"Cilia, did you see that? That kitchen had the biggest refrigerator I've ever seen. I mean, you could fit a body in there." Dad pointed at the screen. "I want one."

My actual first name was Cecilia. Only my father and brother called me Cilia. It was my family's pet name for me.

"So you can put a body in it?" I teased.

My dad shot me a sarcastic gaze. "You know what I mean. Anyways, your brother would probably be the one shoving a body in there."

I nodded in agreement. "That I cannot disagree with."

We watched TV for a while longer. How else was I supposed to spend my last day of winter break? Certainly not doing something reckless such as going down to Mexico to find a missing werewolf.

Finally, at around midnight, my dad ordered for me to get to hit the hay, and I was more than willing.

"Night sweetheart." He patted me on the back as we walked up the stairs. I walked past Stile's bedroom and went to mine.

"Good night dad. Love you." I said back. After almost losing Stiles to the nogistune, I always told my dad and Stiles that I loved them every night. Everything that had happened only a few months ago was still so vivid in my mind. I had a scar that ran from one shoulder to the other across my chest from where the Oni slashed me when I was at the sheriff's station the night that Scott had saved Stiles. I did my best to cover it up when I was around Stiles. He had always felt responsible for what had happened, even though we knew it wasn't his fault.

He still blamed himself.

And I did my best to remind him that even if it was his fault, I still forgave him. Because I knew he'd do the same for me.

After changing into my pajamas and pulling my brown hair out of the messy ponytail it had been in, I climbed in bed. Tomorrow was school and even though I was caught up in the supernatural, that didn't mean I couldn't have a completely normal school day.

At around four O'clock I had woken up to Stiles causing some rather loud racket in his room, and it was obvious he wasn't alone.

Malia.

Malia and I got along pretty well. I mean, I knew what she and my brother were doing in his room, and I had to choose to sleep through it. Not an easy task. I didn't know when she had left, but now it was seven thirty and I was making breakfast for the men of the family and myself.

~.~.~

The eggs made a sizzling sound against the black pan.

"What's the menu today?" My father said as he walked in. He was pinning his badge to his shirt.

"I decided just eggs since all our milk mysteriously vanished last night." I enunciated the last half of that sentence and shot a look to Stiles. He sat at the kitchen table, reading the morning paper.

"Would you look at that, the Beacon Hills homicide ratings have gone down over the past two weeks. That's great news." Stiles looked up from the paper and ignored my last statement.

I brought the pan over from the stovetop and placed it on the quartz countertop. "They're about to go back up." I muttered. Using all the milk on whatever he had last night meant that I couldn't make homemade pancakes, aka the only kind of pancakes acceptable at the Stilinski household. I know, I sound so stuck-up by saying that I only make homemade pancakes, but that's just how it was. My grandma did it, and so did my mother.

"How was camping?" My dad sat down next to Stiles. I began plating the eggs.

Stiles shifted in his seat. "It was… refreshing."

I shook my head and walked around the island and gave Stiles and dad their plates. I quickly grabbed mine from the counter and sat down.

Yeah. It was a little awkward. I wanted to ask about the 'camping', but I couldn't with dad around. Stiles had asked me not to.

We sat in silence until all the eggs were eaten.

"Well, I better get going. Can't have a sheriff's station without a sheriff." My dad stood from his seat and took the empty plate to the sink. He came back and patted us on our shoulders and then walked out the front door, but not before calling out, "Have fun at school, and don't do anything… stupid."

The door closed gently, and like a panther I was on top of Stiles. Not literally, I was already asking him questions.

"Did you find him?" I asked. "Is he ok?"

Stiles looked at his food then back at me. "Yes we found him, and it depends on what you mean by ok. Ok as in 'he's alive' or ok as in 'he's the same as when we last saw him.'"

Ok, something was up.

"What happened?" I inquired eagerly.

Stiles bit his lip and nervously played with his fingers. "He's not really himself. I mean, he's himself, but not himself."

I just blinked in confusion. What?

Stiles stood from the table. "It's hard to explain."

I did the same, but grabbed our plates and walked to the sink to put them in it. "Explain."

Stiles grabbed his backpack from the back of his seat, and we walked to the front door. I grabbed my pink messenger back as we walked out.

"This is going to sound crazy," Stiles began.

"I'm used to crazy." I cut in.

Stiles shot a glare at me. "Not the usual kind of crazy."

I gave him a disbelieving look as we climbed into his blue Jeep.

"Trust me." He stated and turned on the ignition.

Thanks for reading. I noticed how, for some reason, a line had ended up weirdly out of place, so for those of you how caught it before I fixed it, I'll clarify this: Cecilia was not making eggs in the middle of the night in her bed room. I honestly have no idea how that got messed up, but it's fixed now. Thanks again for reading! Be sure to leave a review :)