A couple of days went by and Stiles' symptoms never went away, they just became... commonplace. So much that he barely thought about them anymore. He continued to excel in lacrosse practice and Coach Finstock kept insisting that he would be a shoo-in for first line. That the eliminations would just be a formality. Jackson would seethe and turn an adorable shade of red every time Coach did so and it was the only reason Stiles never tried to actively stop Coach's 'encouragement'.

Until she visited his dream.

She was beautiful. Long dark hair floated around her as she smiled at him. Her eyes were as green as the trees around her seemingly glowing in the dim light and Stiles could have sworn she was an angel. Her hands were soft in his as she guided him into the thick woods behind her.

He hesitated. He didn't want to go in there. Not the woods. It wasn't... it wasn't safe.

"You're okay." She said, "I've got you."

Her words were soothing but he still didn't want to go. He just knew he should stay out!

"Trust me. Just focus on me. On my voice. Everything will be just fine."

OoOoO

Stiles woke up in the middle of the woods with no idea how he got there. The last thing he remembered was the angel in the woods.

"I've got you."

He got up to find that he was sitting on top of a big tree stump surrounded by a circle of tall trees. Had he sleepwalked? He knew he did that in the past but he thought he got over it. Shaking his head, he started to make the long walk back home – or at least the walk out of the woods.

Then he saw something in the distance. A large hulking figure in the mist walking on hands and feet. He walked forward and the thing followed him. He suddenly got the same primal urge to flee that he got when he saw the red eyes. This time, he didn't waste any time before running as fast as he could away from the beast that continued to chase him. He didn't care where he was going, away from the big angry animal was all the direction he needed.

Fear and desperation fuelled his legs and he ran faster than he ever had his entire life. Soon he was able to outrun the beast and make it to the edge of the woods. He jumped over a fence straight into a body of water. He swam to the surface and looked around frantically for any sign of the beast but all he saw was a man in a striped shirt watering some plants.

He was in someone's pool?

"Morning," He smiled, trying to act as casually as possible in the situation.

How in the hell did he end up in someone's backyard?

OoOoO

Settling back into life in Beacon Hills was...surreal.

The few times Derek came out to town, people kept staring at him. Some did so as discreetly as possible while the bold ones didn't even bother hiding the fact that they were talking about him. Not that it mattered, whether or not they were discreet he could still hear what they were saying about him and smell the hint of fear and pity they felt around him.

"Who's that?"

"It's Derek Hale. Remember that horrible fire years ago? Everyone in his family died that night."

"What's he doing back?"

He tuned them out after hearing the first part of their conversation. It took him a while but when he finally learned to turn off his enhanced hearing at will, it became his favorite lesson. For six years he used it to block out the chaos of New York City, now he used it to block out the gossiping population of Beacon Hills.

If it were up to him, he wouldn't come back to this horrible town. Not after everything it took from him. But death took away another person he loved so now he has to stand by the last family he had left.

OoOoO

Beacon Hills Medical Center's long-term care ward was the quietest part of the hospital. Beacon Hills residents recovering from an accident, stroke, or heart attack were brought there after they were stabilized and they only stayed until they were fully recovered. There was only one patient who has been there more than a handful of months, Peter Hale.

Peter Hale was the only survivor of the tragic Hale house fire. Unlike his nephew, Derek Hale who wasn't in the house when it happened, Peter was in his bedroom. The firemen found him by the stairs, the door that pinned him down the only thing that shielded him from the worst of the fire. The firemen believed that he was headed for the children's bedroom to save his nephew and nieces. He suffered 3rd degree burns all over his body and the doctors were convinced that he wouldn't make it through the night.

But he did. His body recovered even though his mind remained broken. For six years he remained catatonic. The doctors couldn't explain why and they certainly couldn't explain why his body hadn't deteriorated after all these years. They just tagged him a miracle and a survivor.

Derek felt his hands start to shake as he walked into the hospital. A nurse led him to his uncle's room and he found him sitting on a wheelchair facing the open window. This was the first time he saw his uncle since he left Beacon Hills six years ago. And now he was about to give his catatonic uncle more devastating news.

He pulled up a chair and sat by his uncle's side.

"Uncle Peter," He began, "Something happened. It's about Laura."

OoOoO

While Stiles' morning had been crazy, Scott's was pretty great. In fact, he could call it perfect. For the first time in a while, he woke up with a genuine smile on his face. Last night while he was at the clinic, the new girl, Allison Argent came in after she hit a dog. He didn't know how or why, but for some reason, she agreed to go on a date with him. That plus the fact that he and Stiles would both be making first line made Scott the happiest he's ever been.

Once classes were over, Scott stood by his locker getting ready for lacrosse practice when he was ambushed by Jackson.

"Alright little man," Jackson said with that ever permanent scowl on his face, "How about you tell me where you and your little buddy are getting your juice?"

"What?" Scott was confused, was Jackson thirsty?

Slowly, like he was talking to someone stupid, Jackson repeated his question. However, the speed at which he said it did nothing to ease Scott's confusion.

"My mom does all the grocery shopping."

Jackson had this look on his face as if he wasn't quite sure if Scott was just messing with him or if he was just plain stupid.

"Now listen McCall," He said, "You're gonna tell me exactly what it is and who you're buying it from because there's no way you're out there kicking ass on the field like that without some sort of chemical boost."

"Oh you mean steroids!" Finally Scott figured it out, "Are you on steroids?"

Fed up with the idiot, Jackson grabbed Scott and shoved him against the locker.

"What the hell is going on with you McCall?!"

"You wanna know what's going on with me?!" Scott said, "I got tired of being a benchwarmer, of being the stupid loser nobody even knows. I got tired of being shoved aside being stuck on the bench all year because I can't finish one drill without wheezing and gasping for breath. I got tired of all that so I trained everyday last summer and talked to my mom about ways I can control my asthma. That's what's going on with me!"

By the end of his rant, Scott was out of breath. He hasn't said any of those to anyone except for Stiles, and letting it all out now kind of felt good. His frustration at being unpopular and a forgettable member of the team, and his desire to be more than what he was now.

"I believe you." Jackson said, "I saw you on the field a few times this summer. But that doesn't explain why your little buddy is better than you since I rarely saw him practicing with you. So why don't you tell me what he's taking?"

Scott frowned. He knew Stiles would never stoop so low as to use drugs to get better at lacrosse. He wasn't even as determined as he was to make first line. But then again, Stiles did seem really against Scott making first line, like he was afraid it would create a rift between them. Could he have been afraid enough to do whatever it takes so they both make the cut?

Jackson smirked at the expression on Scott's face, "Unless you don't know what he's taking."

"If you wanna know so bad then why don't you ask him yourself?" Scott may have been having doubts about Stiles but he wasn't going to tell Jackson that.

"See, I would but I don't wanna suffer the backlash of his Roid Rage. You never know what these druggies might do when cornered."

Scott remained silent, not willing to let Jackson see even a fraction of the worry and doubt in his eyes.

"I know there's something going on with Stilinski, and I'm gonna find out what it is. I don't care how long it takes."

As if to emphasize his point, Jackson hit the locker beside Scott's head before walking away.

Scott stayed by his locker for a long time just thinking about all that has happened to Stiles and Jackson's questions. He didn't want to believe it, but the more that he thought about it, the more impossible Stiles' sudden athletic ability seemed to be.

The bell rang and Scott started his walk to the lacrosse field. He wouldn't go accusing Stiles of something as serious as this. He was his best friend and he would give him the benefit of the doubt. But he was also going to keep a close eye on him, see if anything else happens to him and make sure Jackson doesn't harass him.

Scott would find out what was wrong with Stiles.He would make sure of that because no way was he letting his best friend getinto something bad.