i got a bit bored with sterek, so i tried something new. it's a bit random and definitely not my best, but nonetheless. i hope someone likes it xx.


Erica Reyes was full of beginnings and definitely full of ends. Beginnings meaning, she showed up in Stiles' dreams more often than not. And that was definitely a first. They ranged from her being all over him in just skimpy underwear to her ripping the flesh out from his neck with her newly defined zombie, werewolf teeth. She was dead now, who was to say she couldn't be both zombie and werewolf? They started when she officially was proclaimed dead. It wasn't a common thing, the dreams… or nightmares depending on what happened. Maybe it was once a week – probably less since Stiles hadn't been sleeping much nowadays, due to current events happening in Beacon Hills. Lately, his biggest concern was trying to put the pieces together and figure out what the hell was happening in that town. Then Boyd died – or if Stiles was being honest, brutally murdered with the help of his own alpha and the dreams started happening daily. Nonetheless, no one wanted to talk about it Boyd or Erica, they wanted to forget about the two now dead, betas. Stiles definitely was apart of that no one, especially after he had actually seen Derek show raw and practically human emotion for the first time since… well since Stiles had set eyes on the guy. It freaked Stiles out to no end, knowing that Derek actually had a heart. Stiles had always looked at him like some monster, and then suddenly it turned out that maybe Derek Hale actually cared about people other than himself, and it was weird.

Stiles didn't like change, and yet everywhere he looked it seemed like all people were doing was changing on him. Derek had become a softie, Isaac and Scott were suddenly the best of friends – excluding Stiles out of their supernatural cult. Lydia was over Jackson, but not even in the good, she's-going-to-crawl-to-stiles kind of way. More like, she's hooking up with randoms and finally showing people how smart she is, which was disconcerting since Stiles had known that for years now. Maybe that was it. All the change and sudden loss of interest in Stiles from his best friend, the girl he had slowly gotten over, the mean werewolf alpha, even his own father who was running around town trying to figure out murder cases that were physically and mentally impossible to understand and grasp by being hidden from the supernatural world. Maybe all of this was why Stiles was dreaming about a dead girl who, when alive, beat him over the head with a part of his jeep and then proceeded to throw him in a dumpster. Maybe that was why she would show up in his dreams dressed as Catwoman, playing video games on his bedroom floor. It was the only time someone wanted to actually hang out with Stiles recently, so it only made sense it was in his dreams.

Stiles had gotten so weirded out by the dreams that he had even went all the way to Scott's house to tell him about them. But, like always, Scott just laughed and told him it was normal to have wet dreams about dead girls and to carry on with his life. Obviously, Scott was too busy with Isaac trying to figure out some way to simultaneously maim and kill a pack of alphas while also figuring out who the hell was going around committing weird human sacrifices. Which they wouldn't have known about if it wasn't for Stiles. Yet, after Boyd's death, Scott proclaimed it was safer for Stiles to be left out of everything so that the werewolves could die off one by one instead. Apparently Scott forgot that his best friend since forever was the one who was actually the most helpful, even without stupid werewolf powers.

He figured that Boyd's death kind of triggered something in Scott. The impulsive need to be overprotective and annoying by keeping Stiles out of the loop. It had only been a frickin' week since Scott told Stiles to basically play with himself (Stiles did… obviously, the dreams didn't help.) But Stiles had always been the type to become easily bored. So instead, Stiles proclaimed to himself that the week had been a break and he would slowly get back into trying to figure out these murders, whether Scott liked it or not. And one night, that's exactly what he did. The Sheriff was out all night, and Stiles spent most of the night with a 12 liter bottle of mountain dew and his computer, trying to figure it all out.

It wasn't intentional, when he fell asleep – in fact, he would have rather stayed up all night if he had the will power. But eventually he wasn't in reality anymore and was in the dream, and it started off just like all the others.

*the dream

He was sitting at his desk, computer placed in his lap and a bunch of chem notes scattered across the floor. Spotify was playing some tacky boy band music that he didn't bother changing due to the fact he was actually too engrossed in his chem work. There was a noise coming from his window, which he ignored – not even caring. Until a flash of something flew through his window and landed on his bed. He flailed his arms, out of the chair. Once he hit the ground his eyes adjusted to see that the familiar blonde was sitting, her legs crossed, smiling venomously at him. "What are you doing here." Stiles asked, looking at the girl questioningly. He stood up and brushed off the imaginary dirt from his pants and waited for Erica to explain herself.

"I like making an entrance Stiles, besides – I'm here to help." She responded, referring to the way she leaped through his second story window. Stiles glared at her, wondering what her agenda was. If he knew anything about Erica Reyes it was that she always had some sort of agenda.

"Wow, a werewolf who actually wants to help me. Aren't you too busy eating bunnies in werewolf heaven to try and help me?" Stiles replied, his eyes burning into the girl. For some reason he was angry at her, for dying, for leaving him all alone, for making his friends sad and preoccupied. Her eyes softened, and she could tell something was wrong, so she let it go. She stood up from the bed and sat down on his floor, turning on the xbox. Black Ops was currently in and so she started playing, all the while Stiles just silently watched her, slowly his anger was diminishing and he was suddenly wondering why he was so upset in the first place. He sat watching her manicured fingers press the buttons on the control, and watching the way she took her bottom lip inbetween her teeth deep in concentration. After awhile, he caved and went over to sit next to her. He picked up a controller and started playing. They played in silence for a few minutes, or maybe it was seconds… Stiles couldn't really tell. But eventually he asked the question that had been on his mind since she hopped through his window," How come you let yourself die, huh? I kinda wanted you around."

Erica rolled her eyes at him and scoffed, "How come you're such a big baby?" Her voice dripped with mockery, and Stiles mumbled a low 'fuck you' in her direction, which she heard of course, but chose to just laugh at. "Hey look." She started, continuing with what seemed to be like an upcoming speech. "I get it, you're annoyed. No one's paying attention to you, you're just a wimpy sixteen year old with a flailing problem and you still haven't gotten laid. Get over it, Stiles." That wasn't exactly what Stiles was thinking of in terms of motivational speeches, and he furrowed her eyebrows over at her, preparing to say something snarky in return. But she stopped him, placing one of her fingers onto his lips. "Everyone knows that you're super fucking smart, okay? Which is why I don't understand why you're listening to them, why you've stopped helping? Just 'cause Alpha Scotty Mccall says one thing to you about how useless you are, doesn't mean that you actually are useless." She smiled, a real genuine smile. Then she proceeded to ruffle Stiles' hair like he was a little kid. Which, under other circumstances he would have probably been annoyed with, but now thought it was kind of endearing.

The game started beeping and Stiles looked over at the screen, his mouth falling open. "Hey, did you just beat the game?" Stiles asked. Erica smiled, the familiar toothy smile that was slightly intimidating and slightly sexy all at the same time. It was something only she could pull off, that was for sure.

"Looks like it." She said, chuckling and throwing the controller near the TV, while making her way over to Stiles' desk with all the papers sprawled across it. She picked some up and examined them. "You can't beat me at my own game." Stiles began, interjecting her concentration. "That's impossible."

Erica looked over at him, slightly amused. "Says who?"

"Me, it's my dream. I'm supposed to win everything." Erica laughed at that, which made Stiles join in with her. It was nice, being happy over something so simple for once. He hadn't been happy in a long time. The laughter slowly faded and Erica looked down to her hands, at the papers. Stiles could tell she wanted to ask something, but he didn't push it, and he didn't have to 'cause a few seconds later the question came spewing out. "Are you gonna figure this out Stiles?" She asked, holding up the papers.

He knew it wasn't about chem work and that she was actually referring to the Darach and the human sacrifices. He felt like he needed to reassure her, to tell her that he would get it all down to a science and that eventually everything was going to be okay, but Stiles couldn't even reassure himself, how was he supposed to tell her that? "I'm trying my best." Was the only response he could think of.

Erica glared at him, "Well try harder." She said, she seemed angry. She turned around and started rummaging through Stiles papers, fixing things, putting things together. She called him over, and for a good chunk of the dream they started putting the pieces together, as a team – a dysfunctional one, but nonetheless. Then, he found himself staring down at a clue, something he could actually grasp and use to figure the whole mess out. And it was because of Erica. She was slightly encouraging, in a harsh way, but they had done it together, and he felt a little bigger now, not so substantial to everything. Looking back up, Erica had one leg out the window before Stiles' interjected. "Where are you going? We just started to get somewhere."

Erica looked at him, guilt spread across her face. She quickly stepped back into his room and shrugged, flipping her blonde curls over to one side. "I've gotta go meet Boyd and Alicia." Stiles face dropped, the dream would be over once she left, which meant the feeling of being helpful and not completely useless was going to fade and he would have nothing to show for it. Erica realized this, and it made her deeply sigh in annoyance.

"Look, Stiles." Erica said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You just have to do it on your own, okay? Which you can. You're a smart kid, you're brave, and you'll get there. Just do it without me." Stiles looked at her, not ready for her to go, to leave him.

Erica smiled once again, a soft smile – something that Stiles could look at all day. She quickly hugged him and gave him a light peck on the cheek before strolling to the window once again. Before she left, she said one last thing. "Hey Stiles, promise me one thing?" Stiles nodded, and she continued. "Promise you'll have at least copped a feel by the time you're eighteen." Stiles mouth opened yet again, and with one last toothy smile, Erica was out of his dream in an instant.

Then Stiles woke up.

The first thing he did was laugh and then he was calling up Scott, begging him to at least hear him out. Stiles felt like the dream was some kind of preposition, he figured something out with the blonde. It was weird and kind of unbelievable but it was all the same, and he needed to tell someone before he forgot about it.

Hopping in his jeep, he internally thanked Erica for all her help, even though she really didn't do anything, just gave him a few motivational speeches. He was going to prove to Scott – to someone that he wasn't just a stupid mundane. That he could actually figure things out. He also knew that he wasn't going to be having anymore Erica dreams for a while, and that might have been the most disappointing realization.