This is my first teen wolf fic so please be kind. I hope you guys like it. This first chapter takes place a little before the first episode of season 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

Chapter 1

"Welcome to Beacon Hills," parroted Emma as we passed a sign reading the exact same thing. I continued to look out the window as we drove through town. It was a far cry from Seattle, all small town like and suburban compared to the city we'd spent most of my life in. There wasn't a skyscraper or anything of the sort in sight.

"I thought California was supposed to be all tall buildings, sandy beaches, and heavy traffic," I mumbled as Emma steered the car around a bend. Instead trees surrounded us and a deer and her fawn ran deeper into the woods as we passed.

Emma snorted. "Not every part of California looks like LA, Lace. Beacon Hills is a nice town. Both your mom and I used to live here before we went off to college. It's different than what you're used to in Seattle but I think you'll like it all the same."

My heart beat faster at the mention of my mother and my eyes closed tightly at the memories. My breathing escalated and Emma grabbed my hand and squeezed lightly. After a moment my breathing slowed and Emma retuned her hand to the steering wheel. Both of us were quiet then, the silence in the car pregnant and uncomfortable but neither of us knew how to break it. Soon Emma was pulling into a driveway in front of a house with woods surrounding the back and houses on either side.

"So what do you think?"

I popped the trunk and looked up. Emma was standing in front of the house with a large grin on her face as she surveyed our new home. My arms were weighed down with cardboard boxes; my neck was stiff from falling asleep in an awkward position, and my legs were still asleep from the ten hour drive. I was in no mood to check out the house but I did anyway because Emma looked so excited.

The house was a far cry from our apartment in Seattle or even the farmhouse I'd seen in pictures from when I lived in Texas. It was an older craftsman style home with a stone foundation and blue clapboard siding. There were big bay windows on both floors, a small covered porch in the front and a big brick chimney on one side. The inside was all hard wood, warm tones, and exposed beam work. It looked like some place suited more towards a family with the daily home-cook meals, the golden retriever, and the two-point-five kids rather than Emma and I.

Movers came by with all our furniture and the rest of the boxes soon after we arrived and by the end of the weekend, half of the house was unpacked. Emma was paying for the pizza when I bounded down the stairs in a pair of Batman boxer shorts and a gray Henley, fresh out of the shower. The living room still had boxes littered about and knick-knacks missing from the shelves but we were too tired to continue unpacking so we curled up on the couch with our dinner instead.

"I'm sorry," Emma said while we were eating. She chewed thoughtfully before she spoke again. "I didn't mean to upset you by bringing up your mom. I just, I think Beacon Hills will be good for both of us, a nice change of pace from Seattle."

I just nodded and finished my slice of pizza while I focused on breathing steadily. I didn't really know what to say, I never did when Emma wanted to talk about my mom.

It was still early when I decided to crash but I was too tired and I had school in the morning. I wasn't in the mood to deal with the usual tossing and turning so I popped a sleeping pill and I climbed into bed. It wasn't long before darkness surrounded me.

The cubby was damp and dark. I shivered, pulling my knees closer to my chest as I scooted back. Footsteps and voices floated through the crack in the wall, easily reaching my hiding spot. Some men grabbed mommy and pushed her before they pressed something against her throat. The skin broke and blood trickled down her slim neck.

I heard fighting and things breaking and then there was a loud band, louder than the storm raging outside. Another one followed it, and another, and another. My small chubby, four year old fingers rushed to cover my ears but I could still hear the noise and my ears rang from the impact. Then the men were gone without a trace. Destruction was all that was left in their place.

I crawled out of the cubby and raced towards my mom. But my short little legs weren't fast enough and it felt like an eternity before I got there. Things were murky and unclear and it was hard to move, like I was swimming against the current, like everything was trying to force me the other way. But I kept on running and running until I was by her side.

I was no longer in my mother's room but in the hallway where the walls were red and dripping and the floor was wet and sticky. Mommy lay at my feet but something was wrong. Where were mommy's legs?

I woke with a start, a scream caught in my throat, my clothes damp and sticking with my sweat. My heart raced and my mouth was dry and cottony, a side effect of the sleeping pills. But they'd done their job, if only partially. I'd at least escaped part of my ever constant nightmare.

I was still drowsy when I stumbled into the bathroom. The warm shower washed away the sweat and the rest of my drowsiness while relaxing away the tension. But the water eventually ran cold and I was forced to step out and wrap a fluffy white towel around my shivering frame.

My hand wiped away the condensation on the mirror and I stared at my reflection. My hazel eyes were bloodshot from the lack of actually restful sleep. My first day at a new school and I got the pleasure of being known as the idiot who showed up looking incredibly stoned on her first day. My light brown hair looked darker damp and it was already curling against my back where it had started to dry. You couldn't tell that something was wrong with me just by looking at me, no one ever could.

"No breakdowns, no attacks, no breakdowns, no attacks." Those words were my mantra for as long as I could remember, courtesy of my treatment back in Seattle. They were one of the first phrases I learned when I started to talk again.

I quickly got dressed after that in pair of white skinny jeans, a long loose fitting tank top, and my favorite leather jacket. I was slipping on my plain red converse when Emma walked in dressed in the carton printed scrubs I got her a few Christmases ago.

"Good, you're up Lace. I'm heading out but I just wanted to see if you needed were fine. Are you okay?"

"I'm the same as always Em," I said as I laced my shoes. It was a lie technically, but still the truth since nothing had changed, for better or for worse. Emma studied me for a second before she nodded.

"Do you need a ride or anything?" I shook my head so she hugged me and, with a comment about making friends, she was off.

I popped another pill after Emma left before I shoved the unsightly orange bottle back in the medicine cabinet where I didn't have to look at it. My daily dosage was enough of a reminder in and of itself.

"No breakdowns, no attacks, no breakdowns, no attacks." I mumbled the words repeatedly as I raced down the stairs. I grabbed my bag and my skateboard and locked up behind me.

Mr. Harris was a certified asshat. That was the only way to describe why he was such an arrogant egotistical dickhead that took satisfaction in humiliating the new kid on her first day. After the small tangent he went on discussing why I was late, he ordered me to sit at one of the spare tables in the middle of the room. There was a guy there with soft brown eyes and short, close cropped hair. He steadily tapped his pencil against the desk and bounced his leg as he talked to his friend at the the table in front of him.

"Don't worry about Harris," he whispered as I sat next to him. "He's always this much of a…"

"Dick," I finished for him. "Yeah, it wasn't exactly obvious."

He snorted. "I'm Stiles." I shook his hand.

"Lacey." His friend opened his mouth to introduce himself when Mr. Harris interrupted.

"Mr. Stilinski, Mr. McCall, while I'm glad the two of you are branching out from your usual socially awkward tendencies, Ms. Sommers actually had excellent grades at her old school so I'd prefer not to have one of the few students able to hold a passing grade in this class corrupted by the likes of you. So unless you want a detention, I'd quietly focus on the material that will be showing up on the exam neither of you have a chance at passing. "

Stiles rolled his eyes but turned and faced the board. We continued to whisper back and forth anyway just to piss Harris off. We would stop when he was looking but start up again as soon as Harris turned around. I could practically feel him waiting for us to slip up so he could hand both of us a detention slip. By the end of the period I'd made a friend in both Stiles and Scott.

"Who's he starring at?" Stiles looked up at me as I sat next to him and Scott. Scott sat in front of us, his gaze fixed on something behind us. I turned in my seat to see Allison, the girl I sat behind in English. She tucked a brown strand of hair behind her ear and made a point of looking everywhere else but at Scott.

"His undercover girlfriend." Scott's eyes darted towards us and his mouth fell open, an accusatory gaze fixed on Stiles. "It's not a big deal; she's part of our crew now. Besides, the way you're mooning over Alison, she was bound to figure out the modern day Romeo and Juliet thing you two have going on."

I nodded in agreement as I bit off half my chicken tender. Stiles tried to grab one but I slapped his hand away. I glared at him and his lips turned up in a sheepish smile. He tried again a few seconds later only for the same thing to happen.

"Dude, stop trying to steal my food, okay. You're not getting any." I cautiously slid my tray farther away from Stiles as I picked up a fry.

"Why are you so hungry anyway? Didn't you eat something this morning? Actually, didn't you just eat lunch?"

Stiles slid his hand down his face as he yawned and slouched in his seat. "I woke up late and I didn't have time for breakfast."

"You were up last night worrying about Lydia, weren't you? I'm sure she's fine, Stiles. The doctors said she was doing fine so she should be out of the hospital soon."

"I'm not worried about that! I'm worried her rejecting the bi–" Stiles stopped and both of them turned to look at me.

"Who's Lydia? Is she you're girlfriend? What happened to her?"

Scott scoffed and mumbled something that sounded like, "he wishes," and Styles glared.

"She got attacked about a few weeks ago. The doctors say she's doing fine but I'm just worried about her. You haven't heard anything about the attack? It's been all over the news."

"Yeah I heard about that. Emma got called in last Wednesday even though she wasn't supposed to officially start until today since we just moved in. She said it was an emergency."

"You're Aunt's the new nurse my mom said moved to town last week? You guys live, like, a street over, right?"

I nodded. "She's not really my aunt but yeah."

"Wait, if she's not your aunt, why are you living with her," asked Stiles.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and picked at the loose thread on my jacket sleeve. "Um, sh-she was my mom's best friend. She became my guardian after my mom died."

I didn't look at either of their shocked faces as I stood up. "Um, I have to go," I mumbled. "You can have the rest of my lunch Stiles." I could hear them calling out for me but I just walked faster.

I rushed blindly to the bathroom and nearly tripped over my own feet as I pushed open the door. My breathing was harsh and shallow and I could feel the tears on my cheeks. I collapsed against the nearest wall, my head between my knees as I focused on my breathing. I fought against the onslaught of pictures that flashed when I closed my eyes and the ringing I could hear in my ears. I tried to focus on the beige colored tile, the here and now to push it all back. Slowly, it receded and my breathing slowed. My head lifted and I wiped the sweat from my brow.

I could hear sniffling and shaky breathing coming from one of the stalls. I stood and followed the noise. "Are you okay in there," I called when no one answered my knock. The stall door opened and out stepped Allison. She avoided my eyes but I could still see the tear tracks on her cheeks.

I dug around in my bag for a second before I handed her a tissue. "Thanks," she mumbled as she dabbed at her eyes. "You're Lacey, right? From English?

I nodded. "And Chem." We both stood in silence. An incredibly awkward-shifting-from-foot-to-foot silence.

I cleared my throat. "So, um, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just tired of all the weird looks and all the whispering, you know? And now I have to go to the funeral and I don't even think I can." I nodded in understanding. I'd heard about her Aunt and the fire she started that killed a family of people.

"Well they shouldn't. You're mourning; I mean you lost someone so you should be. No matter what she did, she was still your aunt and you can't change that. As far as I'm concerned, the people whispering things shouldn't have an opinion because it's your business, not theirs." Allison looked up, startled, but she smiled and nodded. We talked a bit after that while we both tried to hide the evidence of our tears. Allison asked if I wanted to hang out later and, because we both needed a friend, I agreed. We walked out of the bathroom together and continued down the hall until something blocked the way.

I collided with someone and we both fell to the ground in a tangle of body parts. I landed with an "oomph" on someone's chest and solid arms wrapped around me to keep me steady. I stared into steely blue eyes for a second before we both scrambled up, muttering apologies.

"I like you're necklace," mumbled a soft voice shyly. I looked down at the crescent moon and the star hanging from the gold chain around my neck before I look up at the boy in front of me.

Shitake mushrooms. I probably should have said something to him but my brain had kind of stopped working. Oh please, yours would have two if you saw the face in front of me.

He had a strong prominent jawline and sharp high cheek bones. His mouth was wide, his lips full and sensual, his blue grey eyes averted. The pale skin around one eye was faintly purple, like the color of a healing bruise. But that did nothing to take away from his beauty. I didn't even realize I was reaching out touch his bruised skin until he flinched away without my fingers so much as brushing his skin. I tucked my bangs behind my ears and let my hand return to my side while he avoided looking directly at me. Talk about your awkward situations

I helped him pick up the books he dropped when we collided. "What happened," I asked softly as I handed him his chemistry textbook. He looked startled but he quickly looked away and carefully avoided my touch as he took it from me.

"Nothing," he mumbled and brushed past Allison and I before I could open my mouth to say anything else.

"Are you okay," Allison asked as I stood up and brushed off my jeans. I nodded but I was more focused on the guy walking down the hall.

"Hey Allison, who was that?" We both watched as he disappeared around the corner before I turned back to Allison.

"Oh, that's Isaac, um, Lahey, I think. He's on the lacrosse team, although I've never seen him really play much. We actually have chemistry with him." I continued with Allison down the hall as we walked to class but I kept thinking about Isaac. He was definitely cute, the kind that left an impression, but that wasn't the reason I couldn't stop thinking about him for the rest of the day. There was just something about him that I couldn't shake. Maybe it was the sadness I caught a glimpse of when our eyes locked for a second but I wanted to help him, fix him. I wanted to help him fight his demons, which was ironic since I couldn't even fight my own.

Thanks for reading and please review. It would mean a hell of a lot if you did.