Author's Notes

31.01.17: So this has only happened because I've binge-watched the first 5 seasons of Teen Wolf, and I got the itch to write. Yes, I know I have like 3 other stories that I should be writing for, but this world has pulled me in and got my creative juices flowing.

The main character is an original one, and hopefully I'll work him into the show in ways that don't cause too many issues, and I'll be naming the chapters with the same titles as episodes of show so you know when in the show they're happening. If a chapter's getting long, I'll split that episode into more than one chapter, like I'm doing with Wolf Moon, which will likely only have one more part.

Anyway, hope you like it. ~Ryan

It was dark. Darkness surrounded Michael. It must've been night, as looking out the window, Michael saw more blackness, the only lights being from streetlamps and the stars. He couldn't see the moon, and guessed that it had clouded over and was hidden from sight.

Retreating slightly from the window, he looked around at his surroundings. 'Am I at school?' he thought to himself, the big chalkboard at the end of the room being a dead giveaway that he was. There was something strange about the chalkboard though – someone had covered it completely in chalk. There was nothing of the blackboard underneath, just this thin layer of chalk, as if someone had come and spent hours colouring it in.

He stepped towards it, not thinking about why he was in this classroom or that he should probably leave before he was caught trespassing, but picked up an eraser from the teacher's desk as he passed. Raising his arm, he scrubbed hard at the chalk, and in some places it wouldn't budge, but in others it came away easily. He scrubbed a bit more, drawn to where the chalk was coming away. It soon appeared that where the chalk was rubbing off, a shape was forming. A letter – L.

Michael continued to wipe at the board, soon revealing a second letter, E. There was some feeling in the back of his mind, he couldn't quite name it but he knew he didn't like it, but that didn't stop him wiping more off the board. Soon, a whole word had been revealed. Unable to take his eyes off the board, Michael stepped back, bumping into a desk behind him and the eraser dropped from his hands with a clatter.

LEAVE.

Michael turned and bolted for the door, wrenching it open and stumbling out into the hallway. He had to get out of here, now. Getting his bearings, he realised he was on the second floor, and made a mad dash for the stairs. Just before he could get down the first step, he heard a voice echoing from downstairs. A voice he was sure he'd heard before. He couldn't quite make out what it was saying, but he was sure it was getting closer.

Feeling terrified, Michael ran for a door marked 'Janitor's Closet'. He tried to push it open, but the door wouldn't budge. "C'mon, c'mon..." he pleaded to the door, willing it to unlock. Click. Michael had the door open in a heartbeat and was shocked to find himself standing on the roof. "What the…?" He turned to look behind him, and the door was gone.

Again, ignoring the obvious, Michael ran to the edge of the roof, looking down the wall for something, anything he could use to get himself down. The clouds must've passed, as he could see his shadow cast down on the ground, the reflected light from the moon behind him. But looking slightly up from his shadow, he saw another that looked almost like a bird. A bird that was getting bigger.

Turning around, he looked up to the moon, and saw a silhouetted winged figure gliding slowly towards him. "Michael…" The voice was no louder than a whisper, but he knew it was coming from the whatever was coming his way. As the figure grew, he could make out more details. It wasn't any kind of animal, but a person, with large, feathery wings stretching out a good 8 feet each side of him.

"Michael," it repeated, sounding closer than before. Michael turned back to look over the edge, eyes frantically searching for an escape. And there was only one he could think of. Michael stepped up onto the rim of the building, no other option in sight.

"Michael." The voice was right behind him now, and it startled him so much, he stumbled forward and fell from the roof.

"MICHAEL!"

As water poured over his face, Michael sat upright, coughing and spluttering. He wiped the water from his eyes and found his mother, Kathleen, looming over him, an empty glass in hand. "If you'd wake up when I first shout, this wouldn't be necessary," she chided, setting the empty glass down on Michael's nightstand.

"Yeah, but don't you think drowning me is a bit of an excessive next step?" Michael glared up at her.

"Maybe, but I gotta get my kicks somewhere." With a grin, she turned and made for the bedroom door. "Breakfast's ready in 15, so hurry up or your bacon is mine!"

Michael scowled as she left the room, but a huge smile soon broke out on his face. "Love you, Mom!"

"Love you too, Mikey!" she called back from the hall.

Throwing the covers off, Michael jumped out of bed and dashed into the bathroom, showering as quickly as he could, before dressing himself in blue jeans, and an open yellow plaid shirt over a grey t-shirt. He styled his short blonde hair into messy spikes, slipped his blue-framed glasses over his chocolate-brown eyes, then gathered what he'd need for school in his bag before heading downstairs, following the smell of bacon into the kitchen, where Kathleen was pushing food around in a couple pans.

"Punctuality is still great, but your waking up in the morning is still God-awful," she teased, casting an eye to her son as he walked into the room.

"Drowning me isn't going to make me wake up better though, just stop waking up at all," Michael replied, dropping his bag by the door and sitting on a stool.

"Maybe you have a point there," Kath smiled, dishing up a plate of food and sliding it over to Michael. He smiled gratefully to her before grabbing a fork and starting to eat, enthusiastically scarfing down his breakfast.

By the time Kathleen had started to eat her own breakfast, Michael's was half gone. "Will you slow down, you're gonna choke on a hash-brown and that is no way for any son of mine to die." At that, Michael gave a half-laugh-half-cough and nodded at his mother.

"Sorry, I just don't wanna be late, it's the first day back at school," Michael said, stabbing a piece of bacon with his fork.

"But you've never been late for school?" Kathleen questioned, raising an eyebrow at her son as she popped some egg into her mouth.

"Exactly, so I don't wanna start now," he grinned. As they finished their breakfast, they talked about the day they each had ahead of them, only stopping when it came time for Michael to leave for school. He put his now empty plate in the sink, grabbed his bag, kissed his mom on the cheek and headed out into the porch.

He quickly pulled on a hoodie and shoved his feet into his rollerblades, put on pads and a helmet and was soon out the door, skating down the sidewalk towards school. When he arrived, he was still 5 minutes early, which thankfully for Michael, was enough time to plonk himself down on a bench and get his skates off.

As he pulled a pair of dark red sneakers out of his bag and jammed his feet into them, a shadow fell over him. He looked up and saw a red headed girl in a dark blue coat and a large purse hanging from her elbow.

"Y'know I'd give you a ride to school if you wanted me to," she said, smiling down at him.

"Yes, I know Lydia, but I don't think Jackson would be too happy about it, do you?" As if by cue, the obnoxious rev of the aforementioned boy's Porsche rang through the air. Lydia turned on the spot and looked to where her boyfriend was getting out of his car and seemed to stare down a boy at his bicycle. "See? No-one can escape that scowl." Michael rose to his feet, and earned himself a slap on the arm from Lydia

"As if it's any of his business who I give rides to school. And be nice, he's a sweetheart really," she said, eyes not coming off Jackson.

"That's just the Stockholm Syndrome talking," Michael teased, and got a harder slap from Lydia. "Will you stop hitting me?" he groaned, rubbing his slightly sore arm.

"Come and find me later, I gotta talk to you about something." With that, she was walking off again, heading up towards a school, managing to turn a boy's head as she passed but completely ignoring him.

Michael sometimes wished boys looked at him the way some of them looked at Lydia, but then again, he didn't have her confidence. He'd have to get her to teach him sometime. Then maybe he'd manage to turn a few heads too.

Pushing that thought away, he headed inside too, hurrying to his locker to dump his skates and gear, then hurry off to the first class of the day.

Michael seemed to be the only one in his class who was surprised to hear that a dead body had been found in the woods the previous night, but as soon as the teacher had said that the police already had someone in custody, he didn't see any more need to worry about it. Intending to head to the library during his free-period, Michael spotted Lydia down the hall, (unsurprisingly) hanging off Jackson's arm, and both of them were talking to a pretty brown-haired girl.

As he walked closer, Lydia spotted him and waved him over, so the library was going to have to wait. "Hey," he greeted the three as he closed in, earning smiles from the girls, but an eye-roll from Jackson. "What?" Michael asked, faking a shocked tone as he daintily raised a hand to his chest.

"How many colours are you wearing?" Jackson asked, looking Michael up and down with an offended eye.

"Not enough to contain all this fabulousness," Michael said flamboyantly, putting his hands on his hips for extra emphasis. This made Lydia and the other girl laugh, but Jackson just became even more sour-faced.

"Dude, why do you have to be so…" he trailed off, knowing that the word he planned to use could make him sound very bad.

"So what, Jackson? Why do I have to be so… gay?" Michael teased further. "Maybe it's because I am gay."

"Danny's gay and he doesn't act all limp-wristed like that," Jackson retorted, glaring at Michael.

"Yeah, well, Danny's a sporty dude and that probably overrides his homo-genes or something. I don't know, I'm not a scientist." Michael waved his hand dismissively.

Jackson seemed equally as done with the subject as he looked to Lydia. "C'mon I got practice, let's go." Jackson began to pull Lydia away, and they seemed to have convinced the other girl to go with them as she was following.

Michael was about to turn the other way and head to the library when a hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. He turned to see Lydia grinning back at him, taking her hand off Michael's wrist and letting it fall back to her side. "I guess I'm coming too then," Michael sighed quietly as he walked with them.

Jackson and Lydia were walking together, and the other girl fell back to walk beside Michael. "So she pulls you along into things too?" she asked, reaching up to tuck a long curl of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, but given how long I've known her, I've gotten used to it," Michael answered, giving the girl a smile. "Michael Elliott," he said, holding a hand out to her.

"Allison Argent," she responded, taking his hand and lightly shaking it. "You handled Jackson well," she commented, looking to the back of his head.

"He's never malicious, I just think his mouth runs ahead of his brain sometimes," he grinned, speaking in a low voice so Jackson wouldn't hear. "So I'm gonna assume you're a new student here, as I'm pretty certain I've not seen you around before."

Allison nodded. "Got here pretty recently, not had a lot of time to settle in yet." She didn't sound sad, but Michael had never been the new kid before, so could only imagine what it must feel like being in a completely new town where you didn't know anyone.

"Well, if you need a hand with anything, give Lydia or me a shout. I'm happy to help, and I'm sure she'd agree too," Michael said with a smile.

Allison smiled widely. "Thanks."

As they stepped outside, Michael pulled his hoodie tighter around him, and walked with Lydia and Allison to a small set of bleachers. Jackson had left them to go change, and was now out on the field in his lacrosse gear.

Michael stared out across the field at the players, wondering what it might be like if one of them took their strong hands off of their sticks and onto him. While some of the players he could imagine a night of passion with, there were others who he'd want to just sit and talk and get to know. Like the cute boy sat on the side-line with the close-shaved head. Michael recognised him as the boy Lydia had snubbed this morning. He definitely seemed more Michael's type. Not too beefy, but not weak or weedy, cute in the face with an adorable smile. But given that he always seemed to be more interested in Lydia, and therefore almost definitely straight, Michael had never said a word to him. He didn't even know his name.

"Who is that?" Allison's soft voice broke Michael from his thoughts, and he followed her eye line to see her looking at the boy in goal.

"Him?" Lydia questioned, looking at the same boy and tilting her head. "I'm not sure who he is. Why?"

"He's in my English class," Allison said with a small shrug.

Suddenly, the whistle was blown, and the boy in goal seemed to start having a fit, he was holding his head and shaking. Which soon stopped when one of the boys lined up to shoot beaned him in the head with the ball and knocked him out flat. Michael stifled a laugh, but did feel slightly sorry for him.

The boy then got back to his feet, in a shocking twist of events, easily saved the next handful of balls to fly his way. "Wow," Michael whistled, impressed with the ease the boy seemed to be catching the balls.

"He seems like he's pretty good," Allison commented, clearly just as surprised.

"Oh, very good," Lydia agreed.

Someone in the line-up to shoot then pushed their way to the front, and by the arrogant swagger, Michael could only assume it was Jackson. He was still for a moment before running at the goal, jumping up and shooting.

The boy caught Jackson's shot. The boy on the bench Michael had been staring at earlier leapt to his feet cheering, as did Lydia. Michael rose as well, and gave the goalie a congratulatory holler. Then just to show off, he shot the ball behind him into the crosse of the referee, and Michael had to give another whoop.

Michael stayed with Lydia and Allison through the rest of the practice, the three of them swapping between watching the sport and talking to Allison, getting to know the new girl.

"There's loads of single boys on the lacrosse team, you'll soon have them asking after you," Lydia said to Allison, smiling slyly at the other girl. "And now that I mention it…" her voice trailed off as she turned to look at Michael, causing him to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"What?" Michael said, becoming more confused by the moment.

"Jackson told me that someone on the team has been asking about you." Her I-know-more-than-you-do smile was starting to irritate Michael, but he had to admit that he was surprised to hear this.

"Oh?" Allison chimed in, leaning forward slightly to look around Lydia at Michael. Her smile was just as wide as Lydia's, and Michael couldn't stop himself from smiling slightly too.

"Jackson's probably just being a jerk," Michael said, trying to brush it off.

"I'd be inclined to agree with you, if the one who asked him about you hadn't also asked me about you too," Lydia teased, no doubt enjoying the way Michael was starting to squirm.

"Okay, who is it?" Michael asked, the curiosity getting to him. Lydia pointed out to the field, and Michael saw she was pointing at the boy who was now coming out of goal. He reached up for his helmet and pulled it off, and Michael recognised him as Danny. "Him?" Michael asked, casting a side-ways look at Lydia. "Danny asked about me?" He looked back to Danny and saw the other boy was now looking towards them. His eyes met Michael's, and he gave the blonde boy a small wave. Michael could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and sheepishly waved back to the lacrosse player.

"Oh, so cute," Lydia sighed, reaching to gently pinch one of Michael's cheeks.

"Shush you," Michael said in a hushed tone, and pushed Lydia's hand away.

"It is kind of adorable though," Allison smiled at Michael.

"Whose side are you on?" Michael challenged, looking pleadingly at Allison.

"Sorry, it is," she replied, holding her hands up defensively.

"Yes, it is. He also wanted me to give you this." Lydia reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a folded scrap of paper, handing it to Michael. The blonde unfolded it to see a neatly written phone number, as well as the words 'Text me your favourite movie?' Michael's face flushed even redder. "We're clearly not the only ones who think you're a cutie," Lydia said, Allison nodding her agreement.

"Oh," Michael rose to his feet, looking down at the two girls. He glanced back towards to Danny, who was still looking back at him. He quickly looked back to Lydia and Allison, worried Danny might see how red he looked. "Shut up." Michael shoved the scrap of paper into his pocket and rushed off, deciding he'd go find a quiet corner of the library to try and study in, and ignore the heavy feeling the scrap of paper was weighing him down with.

Author's Note:

So that's the first part. I'm going to at least finish writing along with Wolf Moon and depending on how much the itch continues and what kind of reception this story gets, I'll continue it on further. It'd be nice to try and finish the whole of Season 1, but I've been writing this to avoid writing my dissertation, so don't expect that to be a huge goal I break anytime soon.

Anyway, let me know what you thought, love to hear comments and constructive criticisms, and thanks for taking the time to read this.

~Ryan