I own nothing...except for Ethel and Riley (most of the time anyway)

Chapter 1

"Omega"

The intense round of arguing coming from the front of the car had been going on for what felt like hours. My cousin Riley and my Uncle Hector had been at each other's throats since I had opened my eyes to this nightmare in the hospital. I should have been more concerned by what they were saying, from the beginning they were arguing about me. Uncle Hector constantly saying that I would be fine, that all Riley and I needed was to get back to normal. Riley arguing that opposite, that this was a sensitive situation, you couldn't just drop someone in the middle of the ocean and expect them to swim. Two dominant personalities going head to head over me the passive one. To me that was one of the oddest things, that you could actually wake up having no memories and still be exactly who you are. Riley, sassy, strong-headed, determined and me quiet, creative, and peace-loving. Traits so firmly established in our sub-conscious that even the lack of memories couldn't stop them coming through. "You agree with me right Ethel?" Riley's voice reaches me, as she turns her head back to look at me, steel blue eyes prodding me to agree.

"What?" I question confused, having tuned out the conversation.

Riley sighs, "Our first day back in Beacon Hills should not be our first day back at school. There will be all these people there who know us and we won't know them, it'll be overwhelming," she explains to me slowly, like if she speaks to fast I might miss the point.

"Right, overwhelming," I mutter, running my fingers through my light brown hair, as if this wasn't overwhelming enough.

"Your putting words into her mouth," Uncle Hector argues his gravelly voice irritated, "the Doctor said the best thing for the two of you is to get back into routine."

"Look at Ethel," Riley snaps, her words making me want to disappear, "she can hardly handle us, let alone an entire school full of people that know her." If I felt at all like jumping in on the conversation, I might have claimed that I agreed with her. The anxiety clawing my insides apart was enough to make me want to suffer another memory erasing accident.

"Riley," Hector growls, his voice dangerously low, "I hate to remind you of this but you don't remember Ethel, I do. I know what's best for both of you. Catering to her insecurities won't help her." I fold my arms over my bag and frown. Ever since I had woken up from the hospital it had been all about my damn insecurities, ones that I couldn't remember. In fact neither could Riley so I had no idea where she had got the idea from that I was insecure. Probably from her diary, lucky her, she had a personal retelling of her life. All I had was what she told me and a few photos to piece together sixteen years of life. As if sixteen wasn't a hard enough time to try and figure out who you were without actually not knowing who you were.

"Whatever," Riley hisses as we pull into the school's parking lot, her face sour as she admits defeat. I clench my hand on the door handle, as I stare out the window. My light blue almost grey eyes taking in the various students mulling around, unfamiliar faces everywhere. I open my door as soon as I hear Riley's open hers.

"Ethel you'll be alright," my Uncle says softly, the kind tone he reserves for me.

I face his eyes identical to Riley's before giving a half smile, "Sure, alright," I agree before jumping out of the car. Riley slams her door behind me as she sees me get out, before fixing her golden blond locks. "Bye," I say to Hector before closing my own door. I throw my backpack on my shoulder, my two hands clinging to it as I see eyes turn to look our way. Not that I exactly should have been so worried everyone was content to look at Riley, next to her I was as noticeable as a shadow.

"Ethel," I heard my name called in an excited tone, as a body encloses me in a tight hug. I look past my attacker to the boy smirking behind him. A boy I recognised from pictures, Scott McCall, one of my best friends here.

So the one hugging me must be, "Stiles," Scott's voice says confirming my thoughts, "no memory remember."

"Right," Stiles says stepping back, "its me Stiles remember. Stiles Stilinski your best friend since we were like I don't know three."

"Yes because clearly all its going to take is you jumping on her for her to remember who she is," Riley says in a sarcastic tone, a glare in her eyes as she looks over both Stiles and Scott.

"Glad to see losing your memory hasn't changed you Riley, would hate to go without your particular brand of evil," Stiles responds, causing me to grin.

The glare aimed at Stiles refocuses on me, "You'll be fine here?" she questions me.

I shrug, "I guess," I mutter.

"Good," she snaps, walking away and leaving me to stand with the two people who are supposed to be my best friends. I almost roll my eyes, so much for her grand wish to protect me.

Stiles shakes jokingly as he watches her leave, "Have not missed her over the last couple of months," he admits.

"How are you?" Scott asks me, his voice concerned. I bite my lip, trying to figure out the answer to that, strangely enough that question hadn't come up.

"Confused," I confess, looking around me.

"Well if you need to know anything just ask us, we've been best friends for a long time," he tells me, as the three of us begin walking up the school steps.

"Yeah I know, I mean I read texts not emails because I can't actually access my email account not knowing the password and everything," I say, frowning as I remember the several unsuccessful attempts.

"That I believe we can help with," Stiles informs me.

I look at him and then to Scott, "You two know my email password?" I question.

Scott looks uncomfortable, "We do," he begins hesitant.

"You just didn't know that before," Stiles finishes for him, giving me a smile.

I nod, almost laughing, "Guess I'm now one step ahead of past me," I say, "but I'm totally changing it."

"You should," Stiles agrees nodding. I shake my head taking my hand from my bag's strap as Stiles flinches.

"What?" I question confused, as we stop at one of the many lockers lining the hall.

"You just normally slap me when I say something like that, or when I say anything to be honest," Stiles admits, "got to say not missing that part of you." I frown, before hitting Stiles on the arm. "Ow," he complains.

I shrug, "Figured it might trigger a memory," I joke, joining my laughter with Scott's.

"What do you mean they gave my locker away," a loud voice demands from across the hall. I turn my eyes to find Riley, face contorted in anger as she faces down what I can only assume is a teacher.

"How did you live with her?" Stiles questions me, unable to take his eyes off Riley who was in an argument stance.

"I don't remember," I say, shaking my head. I wasn't sure of the extent of me and Riley's relationship, I know that we grew up in this town together but we moved in very different circles. In fact I'm sure it was a struggle for me when my parents died and I had to live with Riley and her family. More of a struggle when at the start of the school year they decided to move us all away from Beacon Hills. Or maybe it was a relief to me, to be free of all everything that this place reminded me off. Not that it presented a problem now of course. Based on my text conversations with Stiles and Scott, I severely missed this placed and despite the tragedy of Riley's parents memory me probably would have been glad to be back. This me wondered if a place where I was new to everyone might have been better, or maybe it wouldn't of, after all it had only taken a few minutes for me to feel comfortable around Stiles and Scott. Which in my opinion was a miracle because I still didn't feel comfortable around my Uncle and Riley.

"Want us to walk you to the office?" Scott offers, dumping a few books in his locker before closing it again.

"Yes please," I nod, the labyrinth of halls in this place a mystery to me.

"What I don't get is how she even remembers what one her locker is," Stiles says, turning his attention back to us.

I shrug, "I don't know, maybe Lydia reminded her," I say. Confusion clouds my mind as the two of them look at me then each other.

"What, they're best friends aren't they?" I ask, wondering if it was a fact I got wrong.

"Ethel, Lydia's missing," Scott informs me.

"Oh," I mutter quietly.

Classes presented a challenge for me, I knew that I was smart but my knowledge base was strangely only half full. For some reasons I could remember exact details on the civil war but couldn't remember who led Germany in the second world war. It was like that for almost every subject. It was killing me, it was like being only able to see half a picture then being expected to explain the scene. Not to mention kids kept coming up to me and saying hello, and expecting me to know them. Apparently when I used to tutor people I built up my own particular brand of popular, with the uncool kids of course. It was harder because every time I spotted Riley she was absolutely fine. Laughing and joking with different people like she remembered everything about them, while I was just overwhelmed. I managed to piece some things together though like who Alison was, Scott's ex, had about a thousand texts from Scott and Stiles about her so it was interesting to put a face to the name. I sort of understood what happened to Lydia something about weird animal attacks and now she was wandering the woods naked. And I managed to get into my emails. As far as memory free first days went I figured I did okay.

"I still can't believe Lydia's missing," Riley mutters as she stares at the book in front of her.

I fold my legs up onto the couch, "I'm sure they'll find her," I reply, attempting comfort.

Riley snorts, "Fat lot of good it'll do me now, I needed her on the first day back at school."

"Oh," I mutter, wondering how she managed to sound so cold.

"What?" she snaps, "I don't remember her." I shake my head, trying to figure out how showing concern for people who you didn't know was such a hard concept for her. "And I still don't get how a guy like Scott McCall got a girl like Alison," she says, her words full of disbelief, "this town is just strange," she admits, getting up from the couch and padding into the kitchen.

"Strange yes," I agree, jumping up and heading upstairs to my room. It was half unpacked, what little I had managed to do last night when we arrived. Clothes were strewn about, along with photos. I begin sorting through it all, playing music in the background as I place a life's worth of stuff away. At the bottom of a box I find a mess of printed out papers. Picking them up I fall back on the bed, laying them out around me. It was information on werewolves, a whole load of information on werewolves and copies of emails I had sent to Stiles. Emails loaded with the information all around me that I had sent to Stiles to help with Scott. I place a hand on my forehead, feeling a headache coming through as I try to work out what it all means. Why would I sent Stiles a whole load of information on werewolves to help Scott? He must have been doing some sort of paper on them I reasoned with myself, unable to believe that I had just jumped to Scott being a werewolf. Except the weird animal attacks. I take out my phone, dialling Stiles number without thought.

"Ethel kind of a bad time," he says as he answers.

"Why was I sending you information on werewolves?" I ask him before he can say goodbye.

"You found that," he replies.

"Yes, I found that," I repeat, wanting him to just tell me it was for a stupid paper.

"Look I'll explain later tomorrow, and guess what we found Lydia," he claims, attempting to change the subject.

"You'll explain now," I demand.

"Normally you could scare me into submission but because you're not here to slap me I'm going to go," his words are hurried before the line goes dead.

"Stiles," I moan, looking back over the papers before frowning once more. Thanks to Stiles I was even more confused by what they meant and apparently I had a whole night to wait before I found out.