Chapter 2 - Recognising:

You stand up from the floor and make your way over to Stiles' bed where Scott still lies unconscious.

"How long do you think he'll be out?" You ask Stiles who continues to sit on the floor.

"Not sure," he replies.

You review Scott's wounds and to your surprise, they are still not healing.

"They're not healing," you tell Stiles.

"I know," he says.

"I know, but I mean they're STILL not healing," you tell him.

"I know," Stiles repeats.

"How do you know? You're all the way over there, and besides you haven't even looked over. You've just been staring at that same spot on the wall for the past few minutes," you confront him.

Stiles doesn't answer to you. Instead, he turns his head slowly and looks directly into your eyes from afar. His tense glare makes you feel timid and you manoeuvre your eyes somewhere else.

'Why is he being this way with me?'

"(Y/N)," he says, his voice rough.

You don't reply with your voice but instead, look at him for an answer.

"Why are you so cold?" He asks.

Confused, you think back to when he asked you the same question earlier on before Scott arrived.

"Stiles that was like an hour ago," you tell him.

"No," Stiles says. "You're cold."

"I'm not cold," you inform him.

"You didn't think you were cold earlier until you felt it," he says and turns his head back to his prior, staring at that spot on the wall again.

You're still confused as you think, 'how would he know if I'm cold now? He's not even near me.'

Slowly, you lift your hand up, repeating your previous actions, and you place your hand on your cheek. When the surface of your hand comes in contact with the skin on your face, you jump a little to the icy touch.

"I told you," Stiles says, still staring at the wall which isn't near you; in fact is the opposite way so Stiles isn't even facing you.

"How did you," you don't finish as thoughts begin to race through your mind.

'How did he know I placed my hand on my cheek? He weren't even facing me. Never mind that, but how did he know I was still cold? I didn't even know it, and he isn't anywhere near me.'

"I know I'm not near you," he says. "But I can feel it."

"Okay now that's creepy," you say.

Stiles looks over his shoulder back at you. "What is?"

"The fact you knew I was cold, you knew I put my hand on my cheek and you also knew what I was thinking," you tell him, your tone becoming fast and a little frightened.

"I knew what you were thinking?" Stiles asks sarcastically. "I doubt it."

"What do you mean?" You ask, confusion creeping on your facial expression.

"I couldn't have knew what you were thinking. That's just stupid," he says.

"Oh yeah, and Scott being a werewolf is also stupid," you use his words.

Stiles sighs and stands up from the floor, making his way towards you.

"Listen," he says. "As much as Scott being a werewolf is unrealistic, it's real. Me, being able to read your mind is pathetic as it is not real, understand?"

"You don't need to talk to me like I'm 5 years old," you tell him.

You're becoming quite annoyed with his attitude and turn away from him so that you're now facing Scott's unconscious body.

"(Y/N)," Stiles says softly but with a rough tone as his hands are being placed on the curves of your hips.

You don't answer him. You just wait to see what he does next.

Stiles' grip becomes tighter on your hips as his lips are manoeuvring around your neck.

"Baby," he says and places a soft kiss on your sweet spot.

You continue to ignore him, no matter how irresistible he gets.

"I - love - you - so - much," he says roughly, placing tender kisses in-between his words.

"I-I love you so much too," you finally answer.

You feel Stiles smirk against your neck and he continues to plant his warm lips against your sweet spot. His hand trails down your torso and onto the front of your jeans. As he gently bites on your sweet spot, he slides his hand down your jeans and into your panties. The hot touch of his hand against your vagina makes you gasp, and he begins to rub in a circular motion whilst soothing your sweet spot with his tongue. You let out soft moans, but then realise that Stiles is acting strange as he would never do these types of things without consent or even with it.

"S-Stiles," you stutter.

"Yes baby," he mumbles against your neck.

"I can't do this right now," you tell him.

"Why not?" He asks and he removes his hand and lifts his head up from your neck.

"Because for one, we were attacked by a cloud of black smoke which is of course, not weird at all," you say sarcastically. "Scott is here for two -"

"So what, he's not gonna know, he's unconscious," Stiles interrupts your points.

"That's rude," you tell him.

Stiles rolls his eyes at you, and you know something is up as Stiles is never like this.

"As I was saying," you continue. "Scott is injured real badly and we can't just stand here pleasing one another whilst he's hurting."

"Well sorry I can't take away his pain like he can do. Sorry I'm not a damn werewolf," Stiles says firmly, getting offended.

"I never meant -"

"Yeah yeah," he interrupts again.

You look at him with a disgusted expression, and Stiles stares back at you with a more intensive glare than before. He can see that you're feeling intimidated once again by his daunting look, and a devilish smile starts to spread across his face.

Just at that moment, Scott shoots up from his unconscious laying, breaking the menacing tension, and is gasping for air.

"Scott," you say with a sigh of relief.

"What happened?" He asks, then starts to groan in pain as he feels his un-healing wounds on his chest and torso.

"That's what I was going to ask you," you tell him.

Stiles, who is paying no attention at all to Scott, makes his way over to the boards of crime cases on his wall.

"Stiles," you say, your eyes following him.

"What is this?" He mutters under his breath whilst checking out his crime case board.

"Huh?" You say in confusion as you have no idea what he just said.

"Oh uh, nothing," he says.

You don't say anything else, instead, you look back to Scott who is holding the biggest, deepest wound on his torso.

"Is that the one causing you most pain?" You ask.

Scott nods and groans again in agony.

"Your mom should be here soon," you tell him. "She can help with this."

"I doubt it," Stiles says.

"Why's that?" Scott asks, still holding onto the painful wound.

"If you're not healing by yourself as a werewolf, what makes you think your mom can help? She's just a nurse," he explains.

Ignoring his rudeness, you and Scott try to put pressure on his now bleeding wound.

"I knew it was getting worse," you say.

"This is wrong," Scott says.

"What is?" You ask as you apply more pressure.

"Stiles is right, and this is wrong. I'm a werewolf and I should be healing by myself, so why aren't I? And, and I've tried to remember what happened and how I even got these wounds but, I-I can't remember anything," Scott explicates.

You sigh to yourself and try to think of something comforting to say, but there is nothing.

"Let's just try to get these wounds to stop bleeding," you change the subject. "Stiles, we need your help applying pressure."

Stiles walks over to you and Scott, analyses the bleeding wound and shakes his head.

"That's not going to work," he tells you.

"Well then what is?" You ask.

"Nothing," he answers and walks off out of the bedroom.

You're about to call him back in until Scott covers your mouth with his hand.

"Don't - say - anything," he whispers to you, pauses in-between.

He slowly lets go of your mouth and you whisper back to him. "Why?"

"That, is not Stiles," he says quietly.

"How do you know?" You ask.

"Shh," he hushes you. "You remember when he was over by his crime scene board?"

"Yes," you reply in a whisper.

"I heard what he said," he tells you.

"You do?" You ask astonished. "But how did you, oh... werewolf hearing."

"That's right," he says.

"So, what did he say?" You ask.

"He said, 'what is this?' If that were Stiles, he'd know exactly what it was," Scott explains.

You stop and think for a moment. 'So maybe that's why he seems different. But how could this be possible?'