Scott awoke with a start, his heart pounding with excitement as he felt the familiar burn and shiver that signaled the moon rise; and not just any moonrise, the full moon. Her call was just as strong and undeniable as ever but tonight something was different. Scott felt strange and not the normal kind of strange. He always felt as though he were in a kind of stupor before moonrise, as though his mind were wrapped in wool or embalmed in honey, he felt slow and dim-witted and his instincts overcompensated, at least until the rays of the full moon hit him and then everything went into overdrive with his human-self falling dormant and allowing his lupine senses to rise to the fore.
Tonight he retained his human emotions inside his changed body and his emotions were not normal. He felt both anxious and excited, frightened and elated as though something both wondrous and monstrous were about to happen, as though tonight would be different from every other changed night.
He leaped to his open window perching on the sill, his golden irises burning with a radiance to rival the moon, the black wells of his pupils fluctuating crazily. He let the change come, feeling the sweet burn and sting of it in his bloodstream and the strength of it thundering through his heart and shivering through every muscle and sinew.
With a muted grunt, Scott leaped off the sill, clearing the roof easily and loping off into the woods, where his instincts told him, the feeling would be resolved.
*****************888888888888888888888888888*********************************************************
Scott settled into a relaxing, mile eating stride that made the night landscape disappear beneath his feet. He didn't know where he was going, but his body seemed to know so he let it lead him further into the woods.
He let himself ease into that mindless state that would allow him to run all night, hunting small game when it suited him and returning home before dawn. Just as he was zoning out and allowing the wolf to take over his heart gave what felt like a hiccup. The entire organ throbbed once then paused far longer than it ever should pause before starting up again at a shambling run. Scott's sensitive ears heard the sound, a loud LUB—! That stalled with the beat that was always meant to follow. When he finally heard the softer dub, he had already stopped and shifted back to human form, his panic squashing the power of his wolf form. He gasped for breath, shocked by what he had felt and clutched at his chest, waiting and listening.
Lub-dub! Lub-dub! Scott breathed a sigh of relief as his heart continued as it should have albeit a little skittishly. He rose to his knees about to shift back and continue when a sudden shaft of pain, tore through his body like a lightning bolt. He howled and writhed in the dead leaves as ripples of pain burned like fire through his spine, each wave racing on the heels of the other, tearing through his body, shredding and rebuilding with every throb. Above him the moon blazed down, her usually calm and benevolent light suddenly too bright for his eyes, blinding him to his surroundings as the pain incapacitated him and dragged him through a new change much more shattering than that of the wolf.
Scott's world shrank to pure sensation, the pain ripping through him, body and soul and the ever present blinding white light that blotted out all else. He howled and screamed as fire consumed him whole, realigning his organs and internal mechanisms, annihilating pieces only to grow them again at impossible speeds. He felt his sinew and muscle shivering and stretching, tightening around bones that were suddenly too big for his skin; as though his skin were shrinking from the scorching heat. He could feel his arms and legs shortening the bones becoming more compact as the fire burned through him until they matched the new fit of his skin all the while shivering and searing. He screamed and cried out, his howls becoming more high pitched and insensate as his body went into the final throes of metamorphosis that were so much worse than that of the werewolf. Above him the moon burned him from the inside out filling his eyes with her brilliance until the world was filled with white fire that faded to cool and gentle black. Scott released his grip on consciousness and fell into its arms gladly.
When he came too, someone was speaking gently but firmly to him, shaking him gently by the shoulder, trying to wake him up. When he finally cracked open and eye and snarled a warning at whoever it was shaking him the moon was no longer burning him, this realization brought him back fully. He shot up into a sitting position and finally recognized who it was, his boss the vet.
His boss smiled and ruffled his hair, "You know Scott you should be more careful or you really will get hurt one of these days".
Scott gasped in air, assessing the world around him, after his episode his wolf wanted to be sure no predators had come sneaking up on him while he had been out of it. Other than them there was nothing to worry about nearby. He finally met his boss's eyes, his own brown orbs questioning and slightly wild with the memory of the pain and fear. His voice was hoarse from screaming, "What…what happened to me?"
The vet watched him and for some reason his expression was guarded, not enough to suggest seriously misplaced trust like in Kate Argent or Peter Hale but enough that Scott desperately wanted an answer. It was the kind of look that said his boss knew what had happened but wasn't going to tell him what or why it had. The vet smiled again and shrugged. He stood and brushed off his coat saying carefully, "I don't know Scott. I heard you screaming, I'm pretty sure the whole of Beacon Hills heard you but luckily for you everyone probably thought it was a fox or raccoon getting killed by another predator". He turned and offered his hand to Scott, "Anyway you should probably head home for tonight, the moon's going over the horizon but you can still get a good few hours sleep".
Scott accepted the offered hand and woozily stood, swaying slightly on his feet. He glanced up at the kindly man, "Sir? What happened to me? You know don't you?"
The vet was silent for a moment then he nodded slowly, "I'm not sure if I'm right yet, I could be reading too much into the situation," he said carefully, "But if it does turn out to be correct then you'll know without me telling you. I don't want to worry or confuse you for nothing". He met Scott's eyes and his expression was serious and thoughtful, "It could just have been that the change was more violent this time, sometimes werewolves, especially those who were bitten, can get attacks like that".
Scott winced at the thought that they might become a monthly ocurrence. As if his life weren't messed up enough already! He allowed his pseudo guardian to drive him home and see him into his window. He was so drained he didn't even remember hitting the pillow.
**********************************************************8888888888888888888888**********************
The croaky beeping of his alarm clock was what finally woke him up. Scott lay there flat out on his stomach, his face and cheek smushed into the pillow and he could already tell that he was going to have some beautiful crease lines on his face this morning. He felt like a zombie and for a while he just stared at the offending thing that had so unfairly woken him. It didn't care one bit; ignoring his pained expression and pleading eyes. Fine, he thought, I take it back. I don't feel dead because I'm in too much pain to be dead. He groaned and forced his stiff body to roll over and smack the damned thing into silent submission trying his best not to whimper too badly when every slightest twitch brought on the familiar ache of lactic acid and muscle cramps, as though he had gone to the gym for the whole night.
Suddenly it all came back to him. Of course! After that attack last night it's no wonder I hurt! He thought, I need to watch it today or it might take me by surprise, I sure as hell don't need that!
Stiles turned around at the familiar hail, "Hey, Stiles! Wait up!"
Turning he smiled in recognition. He grinned as Scott jogged/ slouched up. "What's the matter tiger? The co-captain not feeling up to things after his night of fun?" He teased.
Scott winced as his muscles abused him with every step, smiling wryly at Stiles, "Yeah, something like that." He said.
Stiles turned and led the way to their first period. "Really?" he joked, "Chasing too many rabbits or were you the one being chased?"
Scott shrugged and tried to sound casual, "Neither actually, shocking I know." He groused at Stile's incredulous expression. He turned away and tried to explain to his best friend, "It was weird," he said, "It started out like a heart attack but then it was like the first time I changed shape only ten times worse. It hurt really bad and I couldn't think at all. I passed out!" He whispered.
Stiles was silent for a moment thinking through the information before speaking. "So was that you last night? That loud screaming?"
"Yeah, it must have been."
Stiles winced and asked, "I'm no expert do you think Derek would have any idea?"
He looked over to see Scott's face twist into a stubborn expression that was so familiar to him, "No," he said belligerently, "We're not on such good terms after he took away my only chance to be cured". They both thought of the alpha and the consequences of that night.
Stiles nodded thoughtfully, "Yeah, I'm not sure if I approved or disapproved".
Scott looked at him sharply, "What d'you mean?"
Stiles looked at him hard and once again Scott was reminded of how much steel really was in his friend, of all the people he knew Stiles had done the most for him. Stiles and Allison, they had always been his moral anchors what really kept him human.
Stiles made himself clear, "If he had allowed you to kill the alpha what would you have done? Could you have done it? After the crisis had passed and Allison was safe, would you have?" Before Scott could say anything he pressed on, "Even if you had would you have been happy like that. Would you have been okay knowing that, yes, I'm not a werewolf now, but, oh, guess I had to kill someone to do it." He stared at his best friend and watched his reaction carefully, "Would you have been okay with that?"
Scott was thrown for a loop. It had all seemed so simple before, an easy trade but now that Stiles had put it in perspective…what would he have done…what did he really want? All of a sudden the clear black and white raccoon of the world was again shoved under the bus to be squished into a grey smear on the highway. He didn't know. Suddenly a strangely spicy scent whispered through his brain, a tantalizing scent that stroked all the right places inside him. He looked around quickly, breathing deeply and there it was only stronger, distinctly masculine it was at once both spicy and a sort of musky clean scent, the natural cleansing feel to it was sending all of his primitive wolf desires into overdrive.
Finally able to get a lock on the scent Scott followed it mentally until he found the source…and found himself staring into familiar, arrogant blue eyes. Jackson. Jackson smirked and started weaving his way through the crowd towards them like a shark through minnows. All at once Scott felt short of breath and not the fearful kind, like the I-can't-breathe-because-I'm-so-hot-and-bothered short of breath. The scent hit him like a hammer blow, he felt the blood drain from his face even as it rushed to other parts of his body. He couldn't see straight anymore, the lights from the ceilings and windows burning like small suns in his eyes and the scents and sounds of the world around him pressing in on him as though trapping him in place, making it harder and harder for him to function.
He could feel the dreaded burn of quicksilver in his veins that signaled the change but the pain was slow and watery, not nearly as bad as the night before. He felt feverish and ricocheted between flashes of heat and cold. He felt brain dead all of a sudden, sluggish and slow as though it was the dark of the night before moon rise on a full moon. And not for the first time Scott felt his heart stop, pause for an eternity then pick up again in double time and increasing by the second; a thundering sound growing louder in his ears. He turned and gripped Stile's shoulder through the thick sweater his nails growing out into thick claws that sliced through the material. Ignoring his friend's swearing he gasped in his ear, "Gotta go, keep him away from me for awhile!"
"What? Wait, Scott, I…" But by the time he turned around Scott had disappeared down the corridor. Stiles jumped when Jackson spoke up right behind him.
"Hey! Where's McCall off to in such a hurry?"
Stiles turned around and shrugged nonchalantly his sarcasm undiminished, "I don't know, why you looking for something?"
The bell for first period rang loud and clear and the last stragglers slouched into class up and down the hallways leaving the school feeling empty and somehow threatening in the sudden silence. Inside the boy's locker room a young woman stood in front of one of the sinks staring into the tarnished mirror. Her shoulders hunched with surprise or fear or perhaps even hostility at the reflection before her. Though by no means a run way model she had an exotic appeal; with a beautiful olive toned complexion and dark brown eyes she stared distraughtly at her reflection in the mirror. The baggy clothes on her thin frame more suited to a male form than a female one. A single tear slid down her cheek. She sobbed and gasped for breath, beautiful chocolate eyes wide and disbelieving as she held out one thin trembling hand to the mirror as though trying to touch her doppelganger's face through the glass, "I-I'm…I'm a woman…" She got no further, her eyes overflowing with tears and her face crumpling in on itself as she hunched her shoulders and dry-heaved what little there was in her stomach into the sink.