A/N; I'm a horrible person that should be finishing other stories, not starting another one. I just havnt been able to get this out of my head. Plus, Derek Hale. Do I really need to say more about that delicious morsel?

Disclaimer; Other than my bottomless fantasies, Teen Wolf in no way belongs to me in any possible incarnation.

This story is set at the beginning of 4A. The crew having just got back from their little Mexican adventure.

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Transcendental;
- in Kantian philosophy.
beyond the contingent and accidental in human experience,
but not beyond all human knowledge.

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Chapter 1; Coming Home

Danny

Picking up my coffee cup to find it empty, I sighed, slamming it back down in the cup holder. My caffeine kick had long been used up. Nonexistent, was the word I was looking for.

Loud rock blared over the engine, breaking the gentle thrum of dawn as the world readied itself for a new day. I struggled to hold back my yawn, widening my eyes and blinking rapidly in an effort to chase off the exhaustion that threatened to drag me over.

I ground my teeth, sitting up straighter. I was persistent, singleminded and as stubborn as they come. Which is how I found myself driving over thirteen hours straight across multiple state lines.

"C'mon, almost there," I whispered to myself. My black chipped fingernails thrummed along on the steering wheel as I bounced in my seat.

I yawned again, and leaned over, cranking up the music to a higher decibel.

Not long after the sun had fully risen, I finally pulled up to the quaint two story house. Pulling the black beanie off of my long caramel tresses, I sighed in relief. Finally allowing the exhaustion to flood my veins. Leaning my head down on the steering wheel I closed my eyes. I had finally made it. Finally reached my destination. The Stilinksi house, Beacon Hills, California. Turning off the engine I looked up taking in the full expanse of the house I knew so well.

It was practically off the map, a tiny lush town the rest of California had no idea about. It wasn't crawling with designer trends and Starbucks corners or flush with sandy beaches, but it was beautiful, peaceful. Slow paced but pulsing with energy, like the everyday workings were big moments. It was the only home that I had ever really known. I had spent so many of my childhood summers here, after my mom would suddenly drop me off without warning and jet off around the world on business. Sometimes I was only here for about a week, other times months. It was as if my mother had forgotten about me, a heartbreaking truth that no child should ever have had to shoulder. I could remember countless times running through the house, breathless and bubbling with laughter, my cousin close right behind me, only to feel the eyes of my aunt or uncle. I could tell, even then, that the time my mother had promised to retrieve me had long come and gone. Of course they made excuses. They told me that my mother had called and was sorry that she had to extend her trip, when honestly they hadn't been able to reach her for weeks. Even as a child I knew it was bullshit.

But, if I was being perfectly honest, I lived for those times. The normalcy of it all. Having someone make me breakfast and brush out my hair. The simplicity of a bedtime story that somebody cared enough to read.

I stepped out of the car and stretched up on to my tippy toes, swinging my arms up in the air and cracking my neck. My legs were stiff and my butt hurt, they tingled as blood steadily pumped threw them. I twisted round and swung my arms once more before reaching into the back for my giant duffle. I turned towards the front of the house just as the sound of the door opening and the jingling of keys reached me. Smiling I leaned back against my car, arms followed across my chest as I watched my uncle sleepily make his way out of the house and towards his car.

He missed me entirely. I fought to stifle my laughter as he pulled open the door to his car and got in. Just after he starting up the engine, I heard a yelp as he turned around to back out, nearly bumping my car in the process. I leaned forward, making sure he hadn't grazed it. It was close, very close but no damage.

I giggled to myself as the engine went silent and the door jerked open, reveling my uncles very shocked face.

"Hayden..." He said, a smile slowly breaking out on his face as he made his way towards me, "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

I shrugged before wrapping my arms around him, cheek resting on his shoulder as I closed my eyes, this was home, "I drove through the night."

He pulled back slightly, face incredulous as he gazed down at me, "All night? Did you even stop at all?"

"Only to gas up my baby," I smiled sheepishly, jerking my head back towards my car.

He spun us around towards the car, keeping an arm around me as he took in the dusty, bug splattered Camero beside us. I was glad he didn't let me go. I wasn't a hundred precent sure I could stand by myself at this point in time. He let out a low whistle a he tilted his head to get a better view, "A '68 SS, am I right?"

"'69 actually, check out the wheel wells."

He nodded then let out a loud breath of air, "She's a beauty, Danny."

I beamed, soaking in the awe and appraisal. I had damn well saved up every penny I ever earned to buy that car. Not a cent from a single soul. He was all mine. Flat black with chrome detailing, the doors squeaked musically and the engine practically purred, it was love at first sight.

Picking my duffle up from where I had dropped it, along with my keys, he heaved it over his shoulder and guided me towards the house. Unlocking the door he started carrying my bag up the stairs. I kept my hand on the railing as I followed him. Slow and steady. I had made it this far, no need to face plant down the stairs in the final minutes. Focused solely on keeping my self up right, I almost bumped into him when he abruptly stopped in the hallway.

"I honestly wasn't expecting you so early," he started, shaking his head slowly. Hand up rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous tick of his. "I didn't exactly clean out your room..."

He opened the door we stopped in front of. A bit above average size for a bedroom, with dark purple dressers, that I had painted myself when I was sixteen, a queen bed with dark grey sheets was bed nestled in the corner. It was exactly as I remembered it. Well, except for the dozens of boxes scattered all across the bed and floor. Some were stacked and orderly while others where empty and tossed on their sides. Papers littered the floor and covered the large corner desk, stacked precariously, they were leaning far too close to the edge in spots.

"Oh," I laughed tiredly, heart dropping, "I see what you mean."

"I'll get it all sorted out tonight but until then..." he turned from the room, walking across the hall and into Stiles' room, "Get some sleep, you look like something out of The Walking Dead."

My laughter rang out as I walked into the room, taking my duffle from him and sitting down on the unmade bed. I didn't even want to think about how I probably looked. I could imagine the horror well enough.

"Wait," I frowned, "Where's Stiles? Last time I checked you needed an air horn to get that boy out of bed before noon."

He let out a stark laugh, "He went camping with some friends for the weekend. So, he won't be in need of his bed until... to be honest I don't even know when that boy is getting back... But anyways, it's all yours for now."

"Thanks Sheriff," I smiled, pulling off my scuffed up converse and kicking them across the floor.

"Now," I narrowed my eyes at, "get yourself to work before I decide to eat your brain... and well, without one working brain in the Sheriff's Department, Beacon Hills will surely crash and burn. I can't have that on my conscious."

Chortling, he backed up with his hands raised, "Alright, I'm going, I'm going," he said.

He pulled the door shut as I pulled my cousin's blanket up around me, but not before giving me one last smile, "I missed you, Kiddo."

I snuggled into the pillow, as my eyes fluttered closed, "Missed you too, Uncle John."

I was fast asleep before he even made it to the stairs.

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I awoke to the protesting hinges of the bedroom door opening and closing.

The room was dark, judging by the harsh black outside the window, the sun had long set. I had slept away the entire day. A little surprising but not entirely unexpected. It's not like I hadn't needed it.

Two figures stepped into the room, hush tones being exchanged as they moved around the dark space. The door opened again and a figure stepped out into the hall.

I stirred, sitting up straight in bed as a desk light clicked on. Momentarily blinded, I squeezed my eyes shut immediately as the stark light cut through the darkness.

When I finally cracked my sleepy green eyes open a moment later, I found a hostile pair of brown eyes glaring at me from across the room. A set of brown eyes that surprisingly enough, did not belong to my cousin, but a beautiful very angry blonde girl in camo short shorts. Atta boy, Stiles.

"Uh-" I started before my hello speech was interrupted by the appearance of Stiles. Walking into the room, he made his way over to the dresser. Getting out clothes from his drawer, he tossed a tee shirt at the girl. So casual, I thought. So this happened regularly.

"Stiles," the girl ground out, wringing the shirt in her hands.

"I'm done in the bathroom, its all yours..." he said absentmindedly, still not looking up at either of us. Ha.

"Stiles!" she shouted, shoving him lightly against the dresser.

"Yes, w-what? Malia, what? What's wrong" he stuttered, eyebrows raised.

"There's a girl. In your bed."

"What?" he said, confusion evident on his face, clearly not comprehending what she was saying.

Deciding now was as best a time as any to jump in and save him, I cleared my throat. I struggled to keep my face straight as he nearly jumped a foot in the air. Both of their heads whipped around to stare at me. Still tangled up in Stiles' blankets, hair a wild mess and my Black Sabbath T-shirt I had fallen asleep in rumpled, I gave a small wave. A few seconds passed before Stiles' confused face broke out into a smile and he stumbled over to the bed, only furthering the frown on the blonde girls face, I noticed. Rookie mistake number one.

"Danny!" He all but jumped on me, throwing his arms around my small frame and nearly causing me to tumble backwards, "What are you doing here?"

He pulled back, holding me at arms length, clearly waiting for my response. That's when I noticed the blonde stalking towards the door.

"Uh, Stiles.." I pointed to the escaping blonde just as she was stepping out into the hall.

"Oh... OH!"

He immediately jumped up and ran to the door, pulling the girl back into the room.

She whirled around, anger flashing on her face and she moved to push him away from her.

"No, no, no, nooo," he said hurriedly, "Malia this is Danny. My cousin. Danny this is my gir- my uh, this is Malia."

Hopping up from the bed, I reached out my hand towards the girl, "It's nice to meet you."

Malia's eyes swung back and forth between me and Stiles. No doubt taking in our similar pointed, up turned noses and high cheekbones before breaking out into a smile.

"Hi, sorry, I thought you were some random slut," she said shaking her head and letting out a laugh, "I'm glad you're not though."

Stiles shrugged, offering up a smile as Malia reached out to grasp my still outreached hand, "She's direct."

"I can see th-," I started as my hand connected with Malia's. A dull pulse went through me and my head snapped up. The world muted, Stiles' ramblings fading to a buzz as my eyes remained locked on Malia's. The room seemed to grow hazy, unfocused as Malia moved into perfectly clarity. Her features sharpened. Every detail exaggerated to the point of perfection.

As Malia dropped her hand, sound rushed back in as the connection broke. It was almost too much for me. I stumbled back a bit, eyes squeezed shut at the sudden deafening roar.

Not what I had been expecting. Beacon Hills huh, who knew. I wondered if Stiles did.

"Um, Danny? Hello?"

Stiles snapped his fingers in front of my face.

I shook myself out of it. Blinking my eyes to clear my focus, I found Stiles and Malia both staring at me oddly.

"Oh, um.. what?" I mumbled trying to backtrack, figure out what was just said. My eyes still shifted back to stare at Malia, almost as if of their own accord. I stared her up and down, cataloguing every minuscule detail.

Malia's back stiffened as Stiles rambled on, reminiscing about the last time he had seen me. It was spring break of last year, I think. I racked my sleepy brain.

"She knows."

Stiles froze, looking between both of us before finally resting on Malia, "Pardon me?"

"She knows, Stiles, I don't know how she knows, but she knows." Malia answered him, crossing her arms across her chest. Huh, she was quick.

"She knows what..?" Stiles asked hesitantly, eyebrows raised as he shifted nervously.

"That your girlfriend is a shifter," I supplied for him. Thank god, I can ask. No. I shouldn't ask.

"She's not exactly my g- wait, what?"

Me and Malia stared at each other as Stiles sputtered in the background. It was gonna kill me if I didn't ask.

"Not a wolf but..." I drifted off, focusing my eyes on Malia. Couldn't help myself.

"Coyote," Malia conceded.

"Ooh," I remarked, I nodded my head as I sat back down on the bed, I could see it now, "Nice."

At this, Stiles and Malia both stilled, their eyes growing wide.

I made a face, confused, "What?"

Stiles spoke first, as he sat back into his desk chair, "Nice...?"

A/N; So? What do we think? I have lots of ideas for this story. I'm worried that this chapter didn't come out how I wanted it too. Anyone intrigued? Should I go on?

Reviews are love. xx