Welcome, readers, one and all!

I'm writing this as I watch the series for the very first time. With that said, I have no idea where I'm going with it, or what will happen in future chapters. What I do know, however, is this: even though this story is based on a show about the supernatural, everything else like character development, relationships, and high school drama will be realistic. That is my promise to you!

Transcribing episodes is hard, and not to mention takes a lot of time. I know there are transcripts out there, but most of the time I find it's just easier to write as I watch. That way I can transcribe what happens in-between the characters and their dialogue. You'll see, as this story progresses, that I'll even go so far as add more detail to a short scene to make it seem more realistic rather than a quick cut made by the director.

*UPDATES WILL BE SLOW TO ENSURE QUALITY WRITING IS TAKEN INTO ACCOUNT.*

Warning: Rating may change depending on the material contained in future chapters.

"Wolf Moon"

Pt. 1

It was dark, considering the late hour of the night, but that didn't stop police cruisers from pulling up to the Beacon Hills Reserve. As cop after cop existed their vehicle, with flashlight in hand, they were escorted by their K-9 companions, some barked whereas others whimpered. A thick blanket of white swirled around them as they made the treacherous trek through the trees, disturbing the tranquility and peace of the Beacon Hills Reserve. It was going to be a long night for both cop and canine alike.

Miles away, at the McCall House, music blared through an upstairs window. Scott was in the process of his nightly routine, getting himself pumped up for the first day back to school. Summer was unfortunately over for him and his two best friends, Stiles and Fliss, starting tomorrow, but he was determined to make the most of his last night of freedom.

A noise downstairs made him tense, his head swiveling in the general direction of the sound.

Immediately walking over to the radio, he turned the nob, effectively cutting off the current song from finishing playing, in order to listen better as he stared intently at his open door.

He hesitated in the doorway of his bedroom, peering down the darkened hallway, retreating back into the safety of his room when only the sound of silence greeted him. A shiver ran down his spine at the many possibilities of what it could be, his active imagination getting the better of him. Remembering that he was naked from the waist up, he pulled on a shirt and one of his favorite hoodies, as he continued to listen for any signs of suspicious activity of a break in coming from downstairs. At the sight of a nearby object casually leaning up against the wall next to his door, he made a split-second decision. With the wooden bat now in hand, he descended the stairs, careful not to make a sound.

Making his way through the house, he looked around for anything out of place that could be classified as a break in. But nothing, he came up empty. Confused, he stopped at the front door. He jiggled the handle, finding that it was still locked. Unlocking it himself, the cold night air slapped him across the face when suddenly something startled him enough to scream for his life.

He screamed, lifting the bat higher in the air, getting ready to swing, only to find out that it was Stiles, hanging upside down. Both boys alternated between screaming at each other.

"Stiles, what the Hell are you doing?!" Scott fumed, furious with his best friend and his shenanigans.

"You weren't answering your phone!" Stiles exclaimed incredulously, flailing his arms around. He looked at the bat in Scott's hands in confusion. "Why do you have a bat?"

"I thought you were a predator!" Scott defended himself, dropping the bat, his arms going limp at his sides when he realized that he wasn't in any immediate danger.

"A pre – I – Wha – Look, I know it's late," Stiles explained himself, "but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave 20 minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police."

Scott wasn't sure what to make of the conversation. "For what?"

"Two joggers found a body in the woods." Stiles had jumped down by this point in the conversation, two feet landing firmly on solid ground.

"A dead body?" he asked dumbly, feeling stupid the second those words left his mouth.

"No, a body of water," Stiles deadpanned, looking up at his best friend, and hopped over the porch railing with ease. "Yes, dumbass, a dead body."

"You mean like murdered?" Scott grilled his best friend for answers, wanting to know exactly what he was getting himself into.

"Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl," Stiles went on to describe the body with the little to no information that he had acquired through less than legal means, shrugging it off as he tried his best to play it cool at the possibility of finding the body first. "Probably in her 20s."

"Hold on," Scott realized something, "if they found the body, then what are they looking for?"

Stiles smiled a knowing grin. "That's the best part. They only found half."

Scott's eyebrows rose in disbelief.

"We're going," Stiles decided for them, leaving no room for argument, not that Scott would argue in the first place. Stiles was safer if Scott went with him.

"Now!" Stiles clapped, making Scott jump at the loud sound. "All we need is Fliss, and we're good to go!"

"Yeah," Scott scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, glancing back. "About that…"

Felicity was fast asleep in Scott's bed, and Stiles felt awkward watching her sleep. She had been crying. Stiles could tell because her cheeks were wet, stained with tears. And suddenly the awkwardness was replaced by guilt.

"Sorry," he apologized, making sure to whisper for Fliss' sake; she was a light sleeper. "I'm a shitty friend."

Scott placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "No, you're not, Stiles," he reassured, squeezing gently. "I had wanted to call you, but she didn't want me to."

Stiles whirled around, glaring at Scott. "What?! Why?!"

"Don't know," Scott felt bad for lying, but knew it was for the best, "she wouldn't say."

"Right," Stiles muttered, hurt from being left out shining in his eyes.

"Do we really have to wake her up?" Scott asked, scratching the back of his head, knowing exactly how Stiles would react to his suggestion. "We could always just leave her here. Let her sleep. She needs to sleep, Stiles, she's exhausted."

"Don't you think I know that Scott?" he whispered harshly. "I just – I don't know – Ever since Mom died, she's been there. She keeps me calm, reminds me that I'm still in control of myself, no matter what's happening around me."

Scott closed his eyes, sighed, torn between his two best friends. Why couldn't they see they both needed each other? Stiles had admitted it, but not in the way Scott knew Fliss had wanted. "Okay, Stiles, okay," he finally relented, opening his eyes, looking his best friend dead in the eye to let him know that he was serious.

"Thank you, Scott," Stiles said so quietly that Scott almost didn't hear it, "for understanding. You're a good friend."

"It's just," Scott added as an afterthought, "she's gonna kill us for this, you know that, don't you Stiles?"

Stiles nodded. "But she'll hate us if we don't include her. I'd rather have her kill us than hate us."

"True," was Scott's answer, but he still felt for Stiles all the same. That time when Fliss had ignored them both was possibly the worst feeling in the world for Scott, and he knew for a fact that it nearly killed Stiles when she didn't talk to him. "All right, let's get this over with."