Hello all! As mentioned in the summary, this is a rewrite of my Derek/OC story titled Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills. I deleted the original, having taken too long a break and finding it needed to be fixed up. While most of the central plots from the original story remain intact, I've changed a few of the smaller things. If you read the original, Patricia is no longer a cheerleader. Her brothers are now Chase and Clark rather than Chris and Clark, because there were two, too many characters named "Chris" on the dance floor. Hopefully I remain happy with this revised version, because I think it has some potential. Hopefully.

Strange Happenings in Beacon Hills starts off at the first episode ("Wolf Moon") and will go all the way through the series finale. Some things will change along the way, but it'll mostly stick with canon. As stated in the description for the first chapter, the first eight chapters will be uploaded today as all I did was revise them, but the rest will come along as I work on different fanfics.

I only own Patricia and her family. The rest is Jeff Davis.

An aside: Her parents look like Jensen and Danneel Ackles (because I love them). Chase and Clark, the twin brothers, look like Dylan and Cole Sprouse (when they were in Just for Kicks). And Patricia looks like a 5'0" Skyler Samuels, starting from the Nine Lives of Chloe King and eventually moving into Scream Queens and The Gifted appearance territory. Visuals are important, after all.

A half an hour ago Scott apologized to Allison. 30 minutes ago, we saw the man who hunts werewolves. And I can't help but worry about Scott, out there on the Lacrosse field.

I sigh, though, and flip through my AP Bio textbook, filling out my homework. A couple of fellow classmates - Cary and Lisa - sigh with me. The three of us make faces of irritation, then laugh. We got ourselves into this mess, after all.

Suddenly, my phone begins to ring, Stiles contact picture lights up. Ms. Ryans throws me a glare and the two girls giggle as I rush out, answering it as soon as I've left the library.

"Hey, what's wro-"

"It's Scott! We're in the locker room!" Stiles yells, and I instantly pale.

I instantly hang up and make a mad dash to the guys' changing room, sliding through the open door and finding Stiles on the ground, fire extinguisher to the side as he talks to Scott.

"It's the anger. It's a trigger."

"What happened?" I ask, rushing to Scott and taking his face in my hands, checking him for any cuts.

"Got angry. Knocked down Jackson."

Despite the situation, I snort. "Good."

"No, not good." I turn to the irate Stiles. "He tried to kill me!"

I give Scott a look, but he sighs breathlessly. "But that's Lacrosse, Stiles. It's pretty violent game, if you hadn't noticed."

"Well, it's gonna be a more violent if you end up killing someone on the field. You can't play Saturday. You're gonna have to get out of the game."

"Wha- Pat?" I look at my frustrated friend. "Do I have to?"

I cross my arms. "Well, yes. You clawed Stiles chair on Friday. You apparently wolfed out on the field. I know it sucks, but you can't play. Not until you get this under control."

"I'm first line."

"Not anymore." Stiles tells him, looking disappointed as well.

I sit in Stiles room, laying on his bed and attempting to finish my AP Literature essay on a couple of Shakespeare's sonnets. Thankfully I only have to take four classes my last semester, and they're spread out. The downside? They're all AP. I finished the rest of my requirements my junior year, stressing me out completely but evidently impressing the admissions offices of the colleges I applied to.

As I type away Stiles grabs his nerf gun and Skypes Scott, who's probably busy brooding in his room.

The ringing stops and Stiles shoots at the screen. The bullet bounces off and hits me on the side of the face and I scowl. "Stiles."

"Sorry." He grumbles, before focusing on Scott. I set my computer aside as well, satisfied with what I've written.

"What'd you find out?" Scott asks Stiles, referring to what happened to Jackson.

"Well, it's bad." At Stiles's words I get up to lean over his shoulder. "Jackson's got a separated shoulder."

"Because of me?"

"Because he's a tool."

"Damn straight. Karma's a bitch." I respond, Stiles high-fiving me.

"Well, is he gonna play?" Scott asks.

"Well, they don't know yet. Now they're just counting on you for Saturday."

Scott sighs, shaking his head. In the corner of his room, I see a dark figure. Stiles and I lean in closer, trying to see who it is. "What?" Scott asks, confused. I quickly text him.

Dude. The video glitches and Scott freezes on his end. Behind you. I text, but it's taking too long to send. When the feed goes through, the last thing we see is Derek Hale rushing to Scott, slamming the laptop down and ending our feed. Stiles and I just blink at the screen.

"Well." I finally say. "I need to go to the library. So, um."

"Yeah. I have math homework." Neither one of us mentions Scott and Derek, not wanting to be involved as we are mere humans and don't possess a death wish.

With that I kiss his cheek and grab my bag, leaving the Stilinski house to walk into mine. Chase and Clark are off at a playdate so my mom can focus on work, and she looks up at me from the kitchen table, glasses perched on her nose.

"Oh, hi pumpkin. I thought you were hanging out with Stiles?"

"Yes. Then I remembered I need to go to the library, so I came to drop off my bag."

"Got it." I walk past her to go up the three flights of stairs, entering my room and dropping the duffle on my bed. I grab my side purse and slide in my phone, wallet, house keys, and car keys. With that I leave my room, kissing my mother's cheek on the way out and straightening a few of her files.

"Please be careful. Your dad told me there's still no leads on the killer!" My mom calls after me, and I nod at her from my spot at the door.

"Okay! I'll text you when I'm inside the library. Love you mom."

"I love you too, pumpkin." Locking the door behind me I get in my car and drive towards the Beacon Hills Public Library, not paying attention to my radio. Finally I reach my destination, and I park right outside the most likely empty building.

Betty waves to me at the front desk, and I only see a few of the older Beacon Hills residents milling around silently. I walk to the classics section, hearing footsteps behind me. I turn, and no one's there. Balling my hand into a fist I keep walking, whoever's following me getting closer. All of a sudden I'm dragged into a back section, pressed against the works of Edgar Allan Poe, judging from the book that fell on my shoulder and tumbled to the carpeted ground too silently.

I look up and see the green eyes of Derek Hale and instantly glower. "Seriously?"

He narrows his eyes. "You need to keep Scott from playing on Saturday, or he'll reveal what he is."

"And then that secret will be out of the bag, and the hunters will be after him." He nods and lets go of me, backing up to lean against the opposite shelving. I straighten myself and cross my feet as I lean back. "Why didn't you go bother Stiles?"

"Because I don't know him."

I scoff. "You don't know me. You're lucky I didn't scream."

Derek snorts. "I haven't been that lucky recently." I tilt my head. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Right, I forgot. I'm just a pesky human." He snorts once more, his face still serious. I press the back of my head.

"You okay?" He asks.

Clutching my chest overdramatically, I gasp. "Derek Hale, concerned about the wellbeing of a girl half his height? How scandalous." Derek growls.

"And that is why I don't like people."

"I ain't people." I laugh at my own reference to Singin' In the Rain. "Well, if you're done, I have some books to get for my APs." I start to walk away from him and he follows me.

"You're in AP classes? Aren't you a sophomore?"

"I'm a senior."

"And you're friends with Scott?"

"Have been for years. He's a good kid." I turn to look up at him. "And if you dare harm him in any way I will figure out how to kill you and make you suffer tenfold."

Derek scoffs. "Good luck with that. Hell has a better chance of freezing over."

"Go ahead, underestimate me. See what happens." I warn, turning the corner. "You damn T-800." There's complete silence, and I realize Derek disappeared. I thunk my head against the nearest panel of wood. "Why is my life suddenly a TV show?"

Over the next few days, Scott tried to get out of playing this Saturday. I try to help him, but when he says no to faking an injury I let him handle it himself. Waiting for him to leave Coach Finstock's office I check my nails, frowning at the chipping black paint. Scott sighs and rubs his eyes as he walks up to me.

"No luck?" I ask.

"No. He wouldn't listen."

"See, I told you that you should've faked a sprain." We start walking towards his next class, and his phone pings.

"Dammit, she got the shift off." Scott grumbles.

"Hey." An angelic voice greets, and we look up to see Allison descending.

"Alli!" I give her a quick hug, the girl laughing. She wraps an arm over my shoulders as we face Scott.

"Busy?" She asks her potential boyfriend, noticing the phone in his hand.

"No, no, it's just, uh, my mom, she's nothing. I mean it's nothing. I'm never too busy for you." He smiles at Allison, who laughs and smiles back. Oh my God, I'm getting damn cavities.

"I like the sound of that. I have to run to French class, but I wanted you to know that I'm coming to see you play tomorrow." Allison nervously looks down at the ground before staring at my best friend.

"You are?" Scott asks.

She nods. "And we're all going out afterwards. You, me, Lydia, Jackson, Trish." I grin. "It's gonna be great. Tell Stiles to come, too. Uh, save me a seat at lunch!"

"Wait, Alli, I'm gonna walk with you. I have to stop at my locker."

"I can wait for you, if you'd like?" She asks, and we wave at the worried Scott.

"No, it's fine. I'm heading home."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I only had one class today. AP Calculus."

"Wow, that's insane. How'd you manage that?" She asks, and we turn down the hall.

I shrug. "Junior year I basically doubled my requirements. My mom helped me prepare my case for the school board and everything. But it was so worth it. I think I'm the only senior not stressing right now."

She laughs, and stops briefly when we reach my locker. "Are you some kind of genius?"

I shake my head, laughing. "Oh, hell no. Just really determined to get out of high school."

She nods, and waves. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

I nod. "Of course. Want to go out to the Beacon Bean?"

"Hell yeah. Au revoir!" Allison calls, walking off to her next class. I grin and open my locker, coming face-to-face with a cardigan. My cardigan, from Lydia's party. I left it, when I took Allison home. Maybe Lydia returned it? She has a habit of breaking into lockers. I pull it down and smile, sliding my arms through the sleeves before grabbing my bag. I look around, thinking I'm hearing something. The warning bell rings and I jump before closing my locker with a laugh, walking out of the school.

Fifteen minutes later I'm back home, the house completely empty due to the face it's barely 11 o'clock. I cross over to the fridge and pull out the leftover pancakes, having decided not to eat breakfast this morning.

I pull off my cardigan and stare at it, confused. I text Lydia Thank you.

For what? Is her response.

My cardigan.

What cardigan?

I blink, biting my nails worriedly. Nevermind.

You're going crazy in your old age. And what's this about Scott McCall not playing Saturday?

Uh-oh. A curious Lydia is a dangerous Lydia. Ask him. Gotta go, bye!

I ignore whatever she's texted me to heat my pancakes, drizzling more than enough syrup over them. I walk into the living room and turn on the TV, listening to the news and thinking about how I could have gotten my jacket back.

"Still, the police are unsure of who is responsible for the killing. While wolf hairs were found on the victim's body, police are doubtful this was an animal attack." I look up at the woman standing in front of the preserve and turn up the volume, leaning forward. "Anyone with any information of a missing woman in Beacon County is encouraged to come forward. We've been told the upper half of the body remains unfound. If you've seen anything suspicious, please, go to the Sheriff's Department. Back to you, Steve." I lower the volume again, shoving my empty plate to the side in order to make room for my calculus assignment.

Two hours later I put the paper and pencil down, shaking out my hand. The front door opens and I look to see my dad entering, groaning. He had the night shift, and is basically stumbling into the living room.

"Hey kid. Is school over already?"

I snort. "Only for me. I had AP Calculus today."

"Right, right. I'm going to take a nap. You're going to the game tomorrow, right?"

"Of course. My boys need a personal cheerleader. I'm going to hang out with Allison and Lydia first, though. Girl time."

My dad snorts, and kisses the top of my head. "Alright, kid. I'll see you when I wake up."

"Okay!" I call as he walks up the stairs, groaning as he moves. The bedroom door closes and I put my homework away, excited that I basically have the weekend free to deal with this whole werewolf situation. I close my eyes and lean back, before sitting up straight in shock. There was someone else at that party. Someone else could use his crazy sense of smell to find my cardigan. Someone who's been following me.

I quickly call Scott, not knowing who else to call.

"Hello?" He asks, confused. I breathe heavily. "Pat, what's wrong."

"M-my cardigan. I left it at Lydia's on Friday. S-someone. S-someone left it my locker. I think it was Derek. He's been following me."

I hear growling on his end. "Stay calm. I'm going to take care of it." He hangs up and I sigh, climbing onto the couch and rolling over to face the TV, changing the channel.

Stiles practically dragged me out of my house and into his Jeep, throwing the occasional concerned look my way. We park in front of the McCall house and Stiles pulls out the keys he copied from Scott, running up the stairs. I calmly close it behind me and follow him up.

"What did you find? How did you find it? Where did you find it? And yes , I've had a lot of Adderall, so…?" Stiles asks, Scott fixing the net on his stick.

Scott gets up when he sees me and pulls me into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Pat. I hope he leaves you alone."

"Thanks, Scotty."

"What happened?" Stiles asks.

Scott turns to our best friend. "Derek got into her locker and left her cardigan for her."

"That dick!" Stiles yells, pulling me into a hug as well. "So you left to confront him?"

"Yeah. And I found something at Derek Hale's. There's something buried there - I could smell blood."

"Wow! That's amazing. I mean that's terrible." He nods at my unimpressed glare. "Who's blood?"

"I don't know. But when we do, your dad nails Derek for the murder. And then you help me figure out how to play lacrosse without changing. Because there's no way I'm not playing that game."

A few hours later we walk into the Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, our plan mapped out while munching on two large pepperoni pizzas at the McCalls. Stiles will act as a distraction while Scott and I examine the body, and he figures out if he recognizes the scent or not.

The doors slide open and we're surrounded by harsh lights, so different than the darkness outside. "Hey." Stiles points towards the morgue.

"Okay." Scott looks at me. "You ready?"

"One scare isn't enough to set me back."

"Good luck, I guess." Stiles tells us awkwardly. I give him a look and shove Scott towards the morgue door.

We walk past a nurse, whose too busy to pay attention to us. I duck down by the door, standing behind Scott. "Anyone there?" I ask.

"No. Let's go." He opens the door quickly and I follow him, quietly shutting it.

I look around the cold, empty room and turn to my partner. "We're looking for a Jane Doe. It should be a partial tag."

"Got it." He whispers back, and we walk past the different containers. All those people, dead. They had lives. Maybe they lived them, maybe they didn't. "Found it."

"Okay." I walk over to him and cover his hand as he pants. "Hey, I'll open it. You just put that nose of yours to use."

Scott nods and removes his hand so I can pull the lever down and open the little hatch. Pulling on some nearby medical gloves I pull out the slab, lifting the sheet. The woman's dirt covered feet are revealed, and both of us wince. I look away. Scott clears his throat and I quickly flip down the sheet, rolling the body back where it belongs and removing the gloves from my hands, throwing them away. We quickly leave the morgue.

Stiles is sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair, reading a pamphlet on the menstrual cycle. Scott pulls it out of his hands and he freaks out a bit. "The scent was the same." Our werewolf buddy tells him.

"You sure."

"I hope so." I mutter, getting a nod of agreement from Scott.

Stiles stands up. "So he did bury the other half of the body on his property."

"Which means we have proof he killed the girl."

"But no motive." I remind them, and Scott looks at me in disbelief.

"Pat, he freaked you out on purpose, remember?"

"Trust me, I won't forget." I sigh. "But we have to be absolutely sure he did it, otherwise we're just getting him arrested so you can play a game."

Scott groans. "Come on, Pat."

I sigh. "Fine. Fine." I hold up my hands in surrender. "Hopefully you're wrong."

We look at Stiles. "I'm with you. I say we use what we have."

"Okay. But how?" Scott asks.

"Let me ask you something. Because Ricky is right. Are you doing this because you want to stop Derek, or because you want to play the game and he said you shouldn't?"

"There are bite marks on the legs Stiles - bite marks."

"Okay." Stiles nods. "Then we're gonna need a shovel."

An hour later, we're driving through a small clearing in the preserve, trying not to make too much noise so we don't alert the possible murderer of our late night intentions. We watch from the shadows as Derek leaves the ruins of the Hale House, getting into his shiny black Camaro. Stiles inches the Jeep slowly towards the house, and we park in the spot Derek just left. I quietly slip out from the backseat, carrying the flashlight as the boys shift their shovels in their hands. We walk towards the side of the house.

"Wait, something's different."

"Different how?" Stiles asks.

"I don't know." We walk up to where the other half is buried. "Let's just get this over with."

I stand by a tree as the boys begin to dig, dirt flying everywhere as they grunt.

Finally Scott stops digging. "This is taking way too long."

"Just keep going." Stiles orders.

I look around, nervous. "What if he comes back?" I ask, my voice no louder than the wind.

"Then we get the hell out of here!"

"What if he catches us?" Scott asks, digging again.

"I have a plan for that."

There's silence. Finally, I grow impatient. "Which is?"

"You guys run one way, I run the other. Whoever he catches first, too bad."

I glare at his nonchalant shrug. "You are awful. You know that, right?"

"Pat's right. I hate that plan." Stiles snorts and brings his shovel down, when we hear a thud.

"Okay, stop, stop, stop." They toss the shovels to the side and I kneel down in the hole with them, helping them pick up some rope.

"Hurry." Scott urges.

Stiles groans. "I'm trying. Did he have tie the thing in like, 900 knots?" I quickly move his fingers out of the way and quickly slip my smaller, thinner ones in, unraveling each side. The boys open it and I shriek, scattering back. The boys do the same, screaming and pulling me out of the small pit of doom.

Inside the tied up bundle lies a wolf's head and part of it's torso. It's black, it's fur matted with dirt and eyes glazed over. "What the hell?" I ask, looking up at the boys.

"It's a wolf!" Scott yells, unhelpfully. I roll my eyes.

"I thought you smelled blood - human blood!" Stiles argues.

"I told you something was different." Scott tries to explain. I look up and out, and see a strange purple flower. I blink, recognizing it from all of Stiles's research.

"Aconite." I mutter, getting up and rushing over to the flower. The boys stop arguing and watch as I tug the plant up, realizing it's attached to another thick rope.

"That's wolfsbane." I nod at Stiles's words.

"What's that?" Scott asks.

Stiles looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, haven't you ever seen The Wolf Man?"

"No."

"Lon Chaney, Jr.? Claude Rains?"

"The original werewolf movie?" I ask, still holding the flower.

"No. What?" Scott asks, frustrated.

"You are so unprepared for this." Stiles tells him, and I snort despite the situation we've found ourselves in. I lift the flower some more and walk in a spiral, leading me backwards in an inward spiral, and I watch as a red light follows my movement. I keep walking when Stiles and Scott stand up.

"Pat?" Scott asks, and I finish bundling up the rope. I walk over to where they stand, looking at the wolf. Only there's no longer a wolf. Instead, there's a naked, blood-and-dirt covered woman in it's spot, mouth open in shock and frightened eyes staring up at us.

As I had a breakfast date with Allison, the boys went to go watch the Sheriff and his deputies arrest Derek Hale. We giggled over croissants and cappuccinos, and I pretended I hadn't seen a dead body in the woods. I pretended that one of my best friends isn't a werewolf. I pretended that another werewolf - one who bit my friend and murdered another woman - had returned my cardigan via breaking into my locker. But halfway through our "girl time" I had to take a call from my mother. One that had my head spinning and my whole world tipping over. Confusion haunted me the rest of the day, even with the distraction of my two closest female friends.

As Alli had to spend time with her parents - her dad, the werewolf hunter, apparently - I met up with Lydia at the mall. She of course dragged me into Macy's for the latest sale.

"Sweetheart, we need to get you more skirts. Your legs look so good in them!" She told me, flinging a stack of them into my arms, along with a few new dresses and some form-fitting tops.

"Lydia, this seems a bit excessive."

"Fashion is not excessive. It is life. You are a senior, you're meant to turn heads!" She gripped with the authority of her popular girl status. I mean, not that I'm not popular, too. I'm just not "Lydia Martin" popular.

As she forced me into a changing room, I had said, "I'm older than you, remember? Respect your elders."

"I will, when you get new clothes."

"You're just lucky my mom's on your side, or I'd never be able to pay for all this." I muttered.

Of course, nearly five hours later we left the mall with five bags of clothes and shoes each, the both of us masterly carrying a milkshake into our cars.

Stiles called me, just as Lydia and I parked at the school and left our separate vehicles. Evidently Scott had run off, after he pulled the wolfsbane from the makeshift grave out of Stiles bag. Evidently he freaked out and ran off.

Of course, I couldn't do anything except for find Allison in the stands, politely shaking her father's hand and watching the rest of the crowd come onto the chilly field, the sky nearly pitch-black. While our team - the Cyclones - leave the school to join their opponents on the field, Coach Finstock stands to the side, the exuberant man seemingly calm.

Stiles and Scott are the last two to join, talking. Stiles walks away as soon as Lydia comes up to Scott, sharing what I'm sure is a terrifying conversation.

"Sorry, I have to go say hi to my friends." I excuse myself from the Argent man's presence, then smile at Allison. "Save my seat?"

"Of course. Unless Lydia takes it."

I laugh. "Oh, she will. Then make sure the spot next to her is free!" I make my way down from the bleachers and jog over to Stiles. "Hey, my mom called me today. She said she'd be out late, because she's helping a client. Apparently, she's his family's lawyer."

"Why and who?" Stiles asks.

I sigh. This is what's been haunting me. Something I didn't think could just be said over the phone to my best friends. "Derek Hale. And guys, my mom is a damn good lawyer."

He pales a bit. "Are you serious?" I nod.

"Okay, we can't tell Scott. He's freaking out."

"Why?"

"Jackson." I groan, right as Lydia and Allison yell for me to come back. "Nice skirt, by the way. Lydia?"

I groan and look down at the new purple leather miniskirt, accompanied with thick white tights, a low cut pastel yellow sweatshirt, and my brown leather jacket. "Shut up Stilinski." I ignore his laugh and practically stomp up to the girls, the heels on my ankle boots squishing in the mud.

The whistle blows and the two teams run out on the field. I clap with Lydia and Allison, standing on the former's other side. "Woooh! Let's go Cyclones!" I shout from my seat, Lydia joining in.

The starting whistle blows and the two players fight for the ball. Scott's wide open, but the other teammates start to pass to each other, ignoring number 11. I frown, but then quickly force a smile, getting a look from Stiles. I notice that his dad came and quickly wave, getting a fatherly grin from him in return. Number 37 - Jackson - then knocks him out of the way to take the ball, Scott on the ground as he runs and makes the goal. The crowd cheers, but I growl, anger coursing through my veins. I throw a look at Lydia, who winces at the venom in it before refocusing on her boyfriend and the game.

As Coach Finstocks runs around, praising his star player, I look at my best friend.

"C'mon Scott. Please get up." I whisper, knowing he can hear me. He looks at me and nods, standing. I look to the side where he's now glaring, and see Lydia and Allison standing and holding up a "We Luv U Jackson" sign while cheering loudly.

I wince, then turn back to my friend. Near the other side of the field, Jackson is talking to the rest of the teammates. By the way Scott is tensing, what they're saying isn't good.

"Aw, crap." I mutter. This is gonna be so bad.

The opposing team Scores five goals, but Beacon Hills is stuck on 3. Scott is bending over, looking sick, but after a ref checks on him he straightens, body tense.

The game starts again, the whistle blowing. Scott jumps up and manages to take the ball, literally leaping through the air and dodging the rival players, scoring a goal. We're at 4 points, now.

"Woooh! Number 11!" I shout, cheering for Scott, along with Allison. I smirk internally at the dejected look on Lydia's face. Finstock yells for the players to pass to him, and I laugh at the defeated look on Jackson's face. Something incredible happens in the next round - the opposing player actually passes the ball to Scott, willingly.

Which means he's wolfed out. Awesome.

Scott rolls with it though, scoring another point.

Finally, we're down to the last play. And just like the past two times, Scott scoops up the ball. He pauses, though, and the crowd yells for him to shoot. He scores, winning Beacon Hills High the game. As the crowd cheers I notice something is wrong with Scott, and he runs off. Before I can follow, Lydia pulls me into a hug, jumping up in excitement. Over her shoulder I see Allison chase after him, only becoming more worried.

The strawberry blonde finally release me to join in the celebration on the field. I go to sit next to Stiles, muttering that something's wrong. Before we can leave Sheriff Stilinski gets a call. And what he tells us has us jumping from the bench and running to the men's locker room, ignoring Noah's confused yells.

We walk in and find Allison and Scott kissing passionately. I pull Stiles behind some of the lockers, waiting for the new couple to separate. After another quick peck, we hear Allison walking towards us. With that we stop hiding, acting as though we've just come in. "Stiles, Trish." Allison awkwardly greets us, leaving in a blushing mess.

"Hey, yeah." Stiles says, and I smack his arm so we can talk to the blissed-out Scott. He walks towards us, taking small steps and smiling like an idiot.

"I kissed her." He says, giddily.

"We saw." Stiles tells him.

"She kissed me."

"Yes." I nod. "But we need you to snap out of it."

"But why?" He asks cutely. "I controlled it. I pulled myself back. Maybe I can do this. Maybe it's not that bad."

Stiles scoffs. "Yeh, heh, we'll talk later then."

"No, we can't." I glare at him. I turn to Scott. "Buddy. Come back to Earth."

"What?" He asks, becoming more serious. I look at Stiles, who nods.

"The, uh, medical examiner looked at the other half of the body we found."

"And…?"

I look up at him, holding a hand out to stop Stiles. "Let me get straight to the point. The medical examiner determined the cause of death animal, not man -"

"Derek's human, not animal. Derek not killer. Derek let out of jail." Stiles interrupts me.

"Are you kidding?" Scott asks.

I make a face and shake my head. "No. And it gets worse. Our dad's ID'd the girl. Both halves. The victim is Laura Hale. Derek's older sister."