A/N: Hello once again! I've been dabbling with the sequel to Blue Pills, so this is why this chapter was posted so soon! I hope you enjoy the first installment of Green Pills and I'll see you lovelies soon.

Green Pills.

1.

My eyes opened.

I laid in the darkness for a moment, stunned. What happened? My heart pounded in my chest, as if it was trying to keep up with my racing thoughts. I was engulfed in darkness and my body felt stiff, almost as if I've been lying here for a while. I wasn't able to remember much, only Derek holding me as I bled out. Obviously, I must have survived the stab wound and was healing in some enclosed area. I breathed out, hoping to would calm me down, before shifting my eyes to see more clearly.

In this new vision, I was dismayed when I couldn't see much more than I could with my human eyes. All I was able to see was the delicate and elegant details of the wood in front of me. My skin prickled at the idea that was forming in my mind: why would I be in a box? I quickly blinked, flicking off my wolf vision and pushed the thought back, to stay as calm as I could. I swallowed the panic that was rising up my throat before attempting to move my arms up to adjust the wood, but I had little to no movement. My face flushed in frustration as I balled up a fist and used the minimal space to throw an agitated punch at the spirals in front of me.

A crack exploded and dirt sprinkled onto my face. My stomach dropped. My eyes widened as I finally accepted the thought that's been trickling in and out of my mind. I was buried.

My heart began to pound faster and I attempted to keep calm, trying to form a plan to get out of the box before I suffocated on the dirt, or lack of oxygen, but my body was reacting before my mind could stop it. My fist continued to attack the wood until it left my knuckles spilling blood. Dirt quickly filled up the box, faster than I had anticipated and I struggled against the weight to sit up. My lungs burned for oxygen—since I was hyperventilating before, I had little air within. I flicked out my claws, using them to try and dig myself out.

I could feel my lungs threatening to implode when finally my hand broke through the dense dirt. I felt nothing: nothing but cold air blowing in-between my fingers. I held back a squeal of happiness as I used the last bit of strength I had left to push outward.

My head stuck out of the dirt and I gasped out, sucking in the sweet, fresh air. I paused for a moment, collecting myself and trying to slow down my heartbeat, before using my free hand as leverage to get the rest of my body out of the hole. I scrambled out, dirt falling down my body and I crawled away, throwing myself onto the lush grass. I let out an exhausted sigh, wishing I could take a nap here.

My eyes eventually looked around the area. I recognized it immediately as Beacon Hill's cemetery. I remembered it vividly from visiting Ann and Stewart when I was still plagued with guilt. I wondered why I was here, stupidly, before looking at the hole and peering up at the tombstone before it. Unable to read it, I used my wolf vision, hoping to see some kind of guidance on why I was buried, when I was here, breathing and obviously alive.

I let out a little scream, scrambling further from the hole. The tombstone bared the name Ann and Stewart had given me. My eyes darted from the hole to the tombstone for a moment before I let out a whimper. "I'm," I gulped, tears collecting around my eyes, "dead?"

Dirt was caked to my body and with each trembling step I took, more fell from my body. I sighed as I followed the fuzzy memory of where Derek lived. A warehouse, I remembered vaguely, along with the memory of a hazel-eyed boy laughing with me about it. My hands shook as my eyes went downcast when another car zipped by, bathing me in its headlights. I suddenly realized that I would need a disguise: Josephine, after all, was supposedly dead and buried six feet under.

I bit my lips, wondering how far I should change my appearance and how as I passed by a convenience mart. The bright, fluorescent lights welcomed me in as I pushed open the door. An elderly man working at the counter looked up as the bell rang, alerting him of my presence. His beady eyes widened at the trail of dirt I was leaving and the muddled state I was in, but I quickly disappeared in a different aisle before he could speak. I walked slowly through the store, until I found what I was looking for.

A hair dye box, a pretty brown eyed brunette on the front stared at me, daring me to do it. The dark color was far from my pale locks and it would change my appearance somewhat. I grabbed the box, holding it uselessly in my hand, when I realized I had no money on me, unable to buy the dye.

"Ma'am?" A trembling voice spoke from behind me. I slowly turned to see the old worker, hands up, welcoming me. Though, I could smell the fear that rolled off his body. I narrowed my eyes at him. "You look like you've been in some trouble. I've phoned the police. It's going to be okay."

"What?" I snarled through gritted teeth. My claws grew, piercing the box. "You did what?" I stepped away from the man, making my way to the door.

"Honey," The man reached for my arm, grabbing a weak hold on it.

I turned and from a spur of anger, I let my teeth grow. I let out a snarl, unable to suppress myself. My eyes glowed as my face shifted slightly. In the reflection of the frightened man's eyes, I saw that my eyes were no longer the sapphire werewolf blue I used to, but a … green? Startled, not just from my eyes but my behavior as well, I stumbled back. Likewise, the older man let out a gasp, turning on his squeaky heels and dashed for the back door. \

I jogged out of the store, breaking into a full sprint towards Derek's warehouse. I couldn't believe I just lost control like that, showing a stranger my true form. The hair dye was still in my hand as I ducked in the woods every time a car passed. Running had cut the time in half and before I knew it, I was at the door. Excited, I didn't bother knocking, but I was surprised to see the door locked. I broke it easily, stepping down the stairs.

"Derek?" The stairs creaked under me as I took in a huge inhale of the air, realizing that Derek's scent was stale, as if he has been gone for a while.

Disappointed, I let out a long sigh, wishing he was here. I was so confused and desperately needed some guidance. Though, maybe it was a blessing that he wasn't here. Maybe he didn't need to know I was alive. I wasn't sure if me being alive was going to last and I doubted the older werewolf could take me dying before him again.

I walked to the bathroom, tearing open the hair dye box open with my teeth. I pulled out the plastic gloves, slapping them on my hands. Biting my lip, I mixed the correct chemicals together and shook the tiny bottle until it was a milky brown color. Not bothering to look in the mirror, I poured the dye into my hair, rubbing it in. I winced at the odor, kicking open the bathroom door, allowing the fresh air to chase the disgusting aroma away.

I waited the required twenty minutes, rifling through some of the clothes that were left. My duffel bag was gone, unfortunately, and I wondered who had nabbed it. Luckily, a pair of my jeans were left in the subway cart and after a few minutes of digging around, I found an old pair of combat boots, along with one of the male's shirts. Pleased, I carried them to the bathroom, dropping them on the sink as I undressed. I turned on the shower, allowing the water to warm a bit before jumping in. I relished in the stream as brown water collected around my ankles, the dye and dirt mixing together as I washed everything off my body.

I shut off the faucet. No towel, I realized as I stepped out, letting the water drip onto the concrete floor. I shuffled to the mirror, taking a small peek at my reflection. My hair was dark, a chocolate brown. It made my skin appear paler and my eyes bright. I let out a sigh, my hair tumbling down my shoulder in wet clumps.

I grabbed a hold of my hair, realizing that it was going to be a problem. Whether it was because it was unnecessary or not, I rifled through the cabinets, finally locating a pair of rusty scissors. Letting out a fuck-it breath, I brought the scissors to my hair and cut it. Almost immediately, my head felt lighter. I continued to do so until it felt even enough to look presentable. I wiped away the steam that had collected around the mirror. My hair was chopped at my jaw. I smiled at my reflection, pleased with my shorter hair before letting my eyes shift, in curiosity.

The color that responded was a bright, deep green. I wasn't sure how or why the color had chapped and no matter how curious I may have been, I was aware I had other things to do.

I changed quickly, pulling on the boots. I knew I couldn't stay here. I still had no idea what was happening to me and I had very little memory of what had happened before I was attacked. As I shut the door to the warehouse and stood in the bitter wind, I tried to bring up a memory of a friend, any friend that would help me.

Almost automatically, my legs started walking west and I allowed it as my mind wandered. I thought about Derek and where he had disappeared to. Along with how he would react if I allowed him to know I was alive. I know it sounded selfish not to tell him, but if I told him and the next day, when the effects wore off and I died once again, he would be devastated. Or if the redheaded girl from before decides to make another appearance, who knows if I'll survive? I couldn't put him through that again. I only hoped he had moved on and was finally accepting that I was dead. Why reopen wounds?

A modest house appeared in front of me when I brought myself back to reality. The second story window that faced me was slightly open, bright light spilling out. I still wasn't sure whose house this was, though I climbed up the willow tree that was in front of the window. Eyes narrowing as I perched on the branch, I found a boy hunched over a Mac laptop, his eyes narrowed and forehead creased. Although I couldn't bring up a name immediately, I knew he was a friend and could be trusted. I chipped off a piece of bark off of the tree and let it fly through the window, nicking the side of the computer before dropping. The brown haired boy within shot up startled. His hazel eyes went to the window, perplexed in wonder. His phone was clenched in his hand, ready to call for help as he walked to the window.

"Hello?" He called. Even though I could smell the fear on him, I could sense courage. His eyes trailed over the tree, unable to find me in the darkness.

A name was found within the creases of my mind. "Stiles?" I croaked out, not realizing how thirsty I was.

"Who is that?" He asked, his eyes darting to his bedroom door and back to the tree.

"Back up." I ordered. Despite how frightened he was, he took several steps back, listening. He unlocked his phone, dialing a number as I jumped into the window. I landed noiselessly.

Stiles squealed in shock, dropping his phone. His eyes widened, stunned. I was alive, the dark hair, the chopped strands, everything about me was different. I raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for him to speak.

"Josephine?" Stiles' voice cracked and I was surprised to see how emotional he was getting. "You're… you're alive?"

"Yeah." I smiled. "But it's Tala now. Josephine is still dead."