Fever

"He's either the best thing for her, or the worst. It's not just that she makes him a better person, he changes her too. He challenges her, surprises her. Makes her question her life, beliefs."

– The Vampire Diaries

Prologue

Agonizing screams broke through the still silence on the east side of Beacon Hills. They almost weren't human, but then again what was in this town? Shrill screams continued, growing from a most unbearable scale.

"STILES!" John Stilinski burst through the door of his only son's bedroom. This had happened before; when the Nogitsune had taken over Stile's body not a mere 7 months earlier. John's face was covered with sweat and a pounding fear in the front of his mind; that he was going to lose his son for a second time, but this time it may be for good.

However, this was different from before. The last time this occurred his son was asleep; crying to be awaken from the endless cycles of near life nightmares. But now Stiles was very much awake and cowering in the corner of his closet with his arms protecting his head. Books, his desk chair, hangers, and other misc. objects flew around his room, crashing this way and that.

John ran over and placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "You need to calm down, son. Remember, it gets worse the more afraid you are."

This had started to happen a near month ago. Stiles had been sitting in class trying to concentrate on what coach Finstock was saying, when the peace of chalk flew out of his hand and shattered against the back wall of the room. Soon after, the magnitude of these occurrences grew. Eventually Stiles and the rest of Scott's pack decided that it would be best if he didn't go to school for a while. Mono was the excuse and it so far had kept from further questioning.

Stiles closed his eyes and drew in deep breaths, he started listening to his own heart beat for comfort. Soon all of the objects smashed to the floor, some breaking, in a heap.

"Are you ok?" his father asked, loosening the grip he held on Stiles' shoulder.

"Dad?" His eyes were bloodshot, glazed over in fear of himself. "What's happening to me?"

In John's eyes, Stiles was a little boy. It was killing him that he had to see him go through what ever this was, and it was worse. Much worse because with no one (including the bestiary) had any clue as to what was causing this.

What was Stiles?

Flashback (3 ½ weeks ago)

"When did this start happening?" Deaton paced around his pet examining table; a place Stiles never thought he would be again. Scott and Lydia were standing still beside their friend, trying to keep their fear for him inside.

"A few days ago, I thought it was just a freak thing. Like a light going out." Stiles explained. A few hours after the encounter in Coach's class "it" happened again. But this time in the men's locker room. He went to open is locker door when it flew off the hinges and clobbered into Danny across the bench.

"And you're sure nothing out of the ordinary has happened?" the dark skinned man asked with a curious glint in his eye.

"Look. I haven't been bit by anything if that's what you're asking." Stiles started to explain before one of the office chairs in the other room slammed up against the metal outside door.

"Stiles you need to calm down. The more you get worked up, the worse it gets" Scott told him, holding a glowing red stare in Stiles' direction.

It fallowed the same patterns that Scott had when he was transitioning into a werewolf, anxiety and anger brought out the nasty. But instead of this being physical, it was more supernatural. Everyone knows that Stiles is a naturally anxious person, and that is what sets Scott and Stiles apart; Scott's control.

"What should I do?" Stiles wined, trying to calm himself down.

"For now I think you should just concentrate on keeping your emotions even. It would be the best thing for you and everyone around you."

Stiles felt as if his life was falling apart. If someone could only explain what was happening to him, maybe he could learn to control it better. Whatever "It" was.