[Life is but a dream]

Stiles's heart was beating wildly against his chest and his breath was coming in short gasps. He didn't know how long he had been running or where he was running to; all he knew was that he had to keep moving. The monster behind him wasn't slowing so neither would he.

The pavement beneath Stiles's feet turned to grass and dirt, causing him to stumble at the suddenly soft ground. His arms swung wildly as he tried to keep his balance, but it was no use. Stiles tilted forward, the grass came rushing up to meet him.

With a yelp, Stiles hit the ground heavily. For a moment, he laid there, his breath misting in front of his face. Stiles's squeezed his eyes shut, but they snapped open the next second as a low growl sounded behind him.

Stiles scrambled to his feet, ignoring the ach in his legs. He didn't dare look behind him to see what exactly was following him; instead he focused on the bright lights that beamed ahead of him.

His feet pounded against the grass, kicking up dirt behind him. Stiles didn't slow as he reached the circle of lights he vaguely recognized as the Lacrosse arena.

Suddenly his shins slammed into something hard and Stiles went flying forward. He sailed over the thing that tripped him, landing on the other side of it, rolling a few feet until he came to an abrupt halt against something soft.

Stiles coughed, his lungs aching. He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked up at what had stopped his unexpected roll across the field.

Stiles gasped and scuttled backward, using his hands and feet.

A large white screen spread out in front of him. Black silhouettes clawed at the screen, pressing up against it, making it warp and twist as they attempted to get through.

Stiles slowly got to his feet, his eyes still trained on the screen. He began to back up, trying to put a distance between himself and whatever was trying to come through.

Something bumped into the back of his legs and Stile's suddenly remembered that something had caused him to fall in the first place.

He whirled around, putting his hands up in a feeble attempt to protect himself.

Stiles stared at the object, and carefully lowered his hands back to his sides. A severed tree trunk sat before him. Something so simple and natural caused warning bells to scream inside Stiles's head; the tree had haunted his sleep for weeks.

"This is a dream." Stiles said, his voice sounded loud in the silence. His breath fogged out in front of him. "This is a dream."

It seemed that at the moment of his realization the whole world exploded.

The screen gave out and black shapes surged toward Stiles. The monster that had been chasing him finally caught up in a whirl of claws and teeth. The lights that circled around the field began to pop in a shattering of glass, casting Stiles into darkness.

Stiles screamed and hunched over, pressing his hands to his head. "WAKE UP."

In the midst of the chaos, the tree trunk was motionless, seemingly leering at Stiles.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up." Stiles screamed again. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the horror that enveloped him.

Something roughly grabbed his arm and shook him. Stiles tried to shrug it off, but it held on and shook him again.

A voice sharply broke through the dream saying, "Stiles, it's just a dream. C'mon, son, wake up."

And just like that Stiles rushed toward consciousness.

Xxx

He jerked up in his bed, sweat covering his body making his shirt stick to his body. Stiles's arm shot out, catching the person hunched by his bed on the head. The person fell back with a thump, but quickly sat back up, saying, "Whoa, whoa, easy there, Stiles. It's me. It's your dad."

"Dad?" Stiles said hoarsely.

Sherriff Stilinski came into view, the weak moonlight shinning on him. He looked shaken, but he firmly pressed his hand against the back of Stiles's neck in an attempt to anchor his son.

"Stiles, you're awake now. It's fine. Deep breaths."

Stiles's eyes were still wide with fear, but he struggled to do what his dad asked of him, sucking in one lungful of air after another.

His dad gently pushed Stiles's head forward into his chest. He wrapped his arms around his shaking son, feeling Stiles's breath press against his shirt. Stiles clung to his father like he was a lifeline.

"Shh, it was just a dream. You're okay."

Stiles gradually stopped shaking and his breath became even again, but neither of them released their grip on the other.

"Dad?" Stiles finally said, his voice muffled.

"Yeah?"

Stiles pushed away from his dad and sat back against his pillows. He pulled his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms around them. Stiles stared up at his dad, biting his lip.

"What is it, Stiles?" Sherriff Stilinski asked quietly.

Stiles finally said lowly, "They're coming."

"What's coming?"

"Evil."

A/N: I'm just too excited over that Stiles promo for 3B, so I had to write something.
Also, this is my first attempt at writing Teen Wolf fanfiction, so I guess be nice. Aaand, lastly, I might continue on this idea with (possible) later chapters. Who knows (I sure don't)