A/N: Thank-you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and faved this story - you guys are great!

Stiles had just been about to back out of the driveway when a pair of hands suddenly slapped themselves against the passenger window, causing both Scott and Stiles to jump in their seats.

Liam stood on the other side, a wide smile spread across his face. "Hey guys!"

Whatever feelings of happiness that Stiles had managed to obtain in the last half hour abruptly disappeared and he immediately began shaking his head. "No," he said, releasing the break.

The jeep began moving back again, but Liam ignored it and simply walked alongside it, his smile never leaving his face. "Are you guys going to that place with the pond?" he asked.

Stiles hit the break again before the vehicle could meet the road. "No," he said loudly. He turned to Scott, shooting him a glare. "I still can't believe you told him about that place. Now whenever he hears we're going out there, he wants to come along."

Scott opened his mouth, attempting to defend the younger wolf. "Stiles, you're jumping to conclusions. I'm sure he's just wanting to make sure he knows where we are –."

"Can I come with you?" Liam asked, his voice muffled from behind the window.

Stiles leveled a hard stare at Scott, before taking a deep and steadying breath.

The past six months had found him spending more time with Liam than he had ever wanted to have. What was worse, was that it wasn't because Liam was trying to hang out with Scott, his mentor and his alpha – it was because he wanted to hang out with him.

Now, Stiles didn't hate Liam – not at all. And in the past six months, he had to admit, Liam had actually become a little more tolerable than when they'd first gotten to know him. But if Scott was like a dog, then Liam was like a puppy. A rambunctious, high-energy, overly-excitable puppy. And one that – Stiles still couldn't fully comprehend why – now wanted to spend all his time with him; especially when he knew that Stiles would be using his powers.

Stiles wanted to enjoy the admiration he was receiving from the young wolf, he even could admit his appreciation for the newfound respect that he was being given – especially since the two had never really been on anything more than somewhat-amicable terms. But Stiles found that, while being looked up to was all well and good, he couldn't help but sometimes feel like a freak in a carnival show; that the only reason people wanted to be around him was to watch him perform, to put on an entertaining act for spectators to enjoy. Perhaps that was why, even after six months, he still wanted to keep his powers a secret, he was still reluctant to have anyone outside Scott and Liam know the truth. Because the moment he told them what he was, the moment he told them who he was – that was the moment Human Stiles Stilinski died and from then on people would only see him as someone else – as something else. And Stiles wasn't sure he was ready to deal with that. Not yet.

Liam tapped the window again, bringing Stiles out of his thoughts and back to the matter at hand. Stiles glanced at Scott and seeing his expression he sighed, turning back to face the house. "Fine," he said, putting the jeep into park. He could hear Liam's wide-smile a mile away and waited as Scott opened the door to let the younger wolf in.

Liam quickly scrambled to the back and turned around to face Stiles. "Thanks Stiles," he said, his voice dripping with excessive gratitude. "I promise, I won't get in the way, I won't even say a word. I –."

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles interrupted, putting the jeep back into reverse and finally getting onto the road. "And you can make good on that promise by starting now."

Liam immediately shut up and the jeep fell into silence. Stiles knew he was being rather unkind, but the headache that was slowly creeping up behind his temples made it difficult to care. He yawned, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as they drove. Maybe stopping to get one more cup of coffee wouldn't be a bad idea.

By the time they reached the clearing the sun was shining warmly across the trees and grass, shimmering against the green leaves and off the morning dew. Stiles once again wondered why he was here and not in bed, but remembering the event in the bedroom that morning, he had to admit that his powers still needed a lot of work.

Ever since Givens, Stiles' powers had relatively stayed the same; he'd gotten better at lifting things and using the air to push and pull stuff over; he'd even been able to consistently create a mini-cyclone whenever he wanted and the wind was now his best friend. But that was about all he could do. He'd had a bit more luck with the earth, now able to help plants grow in the ground, and move the branches and leaves of the trees whenever he wanted. Like with the tree that had fallen on Liam, Stiles was able to use the earth to lift anything it was related to – be it rocks, soil, branches, or the trees themselves. He was getting better and better every time he practiced with them, but aside from slowly perfecting what he already knew how to do, there really hadn't been any other progress.

The fire he had conjured after defeating the Witch seemed to have burned away along with her, as no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he focused or reached into himself – the fire simply would not come. It was discouraging, to say the least, but Stiles tried not to worry about it too much, and instead gave his attention entirely to the Earth and the Air. Hopefully, with time, the element of fire would simply return on its own.

At least, that's what he told himself.

"All right," Scott said, walking towards the middle of the clearing. He turned to Stiles, his eyebrows raised questioningly. "What do you want to try first?"

Ever since Givens' death, Scott had taken it upon himself to help Stiles learn everything he could about his powers – much like Stiles had done for him, back when Scott had first been turned; but he also knew that, for whatever reason, Scott felt as though it were his responsibility to help Stiles figure all of this out. Stiles had a feeling that what he'd said in the jeep after leaving Deaton's all those months ago had stayed with Scott; about how unlike him, he didn't have anyone to help him learn or adjust, he didn't have any precedent to look towards to help him understand who he was and what was happening to him. So now Scott made a constant effort to encourage Stiles to practice his gift, to test his limits, and to push his boundaries – to become stronger and find out just what it meant to be a Blessed. He had taken over the duties of Obi-Wan along with the role of Gandalf, because – as they both knew – the real Gandalf at the moment, could not be found.

Stiles had tried every night for months to contact Alayna, to somehow reach her and find out if she was okay. The memory of her screaming as blood ran down from her eyes and her ears was as fresh and terrifying as the day it had happened; and Stiles had no idea whether what had happened to her had been fatal, whether she had recovered, or if she was still being hurt. That she wouldn't respond to his calls worried him, but there was nothing he could do to make her reply. His only hope was that, like before, the portal simply needed time to re-energise and once that was done, Alayna would contact him and he'd finally know for sure that everything was okay.

"Stiles," Scott said loudly and Stiles blinked, emerging back from his thoughts.

Scott stared at him expectantly and Stiles ran a hand through his hair, looking around as he tried to decide what to do first. "Okay, okay," he mollified, eyes landing on a nearby tree. He made his way over to it and came to a stop, pausing as he bit his lip. After a moment he reached out his hand and pressed his palm against the edge of the bark, closing his eyes.

The earth responded to him almost immediately, its presence brushing against the back of his mind before finally seeping through his skin and into his body, amassing in the centre of his chest, just beneath his sternum. It pooled together like a warm breeze, rejuvenating and giving him a strength and energy that hadn't been there before. The senses he had gained back in the forest with the pack returned tenfold, and it felt as though he were connected to a million different things at once – knowing exactly where every tree stood, where every root lay, and where every leaf stirred in the wind. He could even feel the heat of the sun against the canopy above, its warmth becoming his warmth, and relaxing him in a way that could almost send him to sleep.

For a moment Stiles felt as though he could get lost in it; as though, if he allowed himself, he could just keep his eyes closed and stay in this cocoon of warmth and safety forever. But he'd done this before and he knew that he couldn't let himself become too far lost, lest Scott would once again be needed to "wake him up". So with great effort he opened his eyes and came back to the clearing.

He stared at his hand for a moment, which was covered in moss and vines, appearing very much as though it were a part of the tree itself – as though they were an extension of each other. Taking a breath, Stiles closed his eyes again, but this time he gathered his wits and focused exactly on what it was he wanted to do.

A few moments later the branches began to stir, and a few moments after that all the limbs of the nearby trees began to move, until it looked very much as though the entire forest had suddenly come to life.

Scott and Liam watched from where they stood in the clearing behind him, both unable to hide the slight awe they felt at seeing the display in front of them. Scott had seen Stiles do this before, but it never failed to instill within him a sense of wonder and astonishment; that it was his best friend doing it only made it all the more amazing. Liam, having seen Stiles do quite a few things with his powers – but never this – could only stare in stunned disbelief.

But moving the trees and making them dance was one thing, something that Stiles had already done many times before. Feeling Scott and Liam's feet pressing against the soil behind him, Stiles thought that maybe today it was time to have a little fun.

Turning around, Stiles glanced at Scott and motioned with his head for him to come over. Scott quickly made his way towards to him, his brows furrowed curiously together. "What is it?" he asked as he came up beside him.

Stiles made as though he were about to speak, before breaking off and looking towards Liam with a frown. "Hey Liam, mind heading over to the other side of the clearing? Scott and I need to have an adult conversation here and I don't need your werewolfy-hearing listening in, y'understand?"

Liam's face scrunched together in annoyance and he opened his mouth in what seemed like was going to be an angry retort, before he snapped his mouth shut instead and stalked over to the opposite end of the trees with a petulant growl.

Both older boys watched him before Scott turned to Stiles with a frown. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing," Stiles replied, keeping an eye on Liam as he crossed his arms and hunched in on himself, waiting impatiently for Stiles and Scott to finish whatever it was they had to talk about.

Scott glanced back and forth a few times in confusion, before his features relaxed in dawning realisation. "Stiles…" he said, his voice tinged with a hint of warning, but Stiles didn't listen.

"Just pretend you're talking to me," he responded. Scott let out a huff and turned his face away from Liam's view, knowing that at this point he really had no other choice but to wait for the shouts and yells that were soon to come. Stiles turned as well, and fighting off a smile he closed his eyes and began to concentrate.

He could feel Liam's feet against the ground and the heat of his body near the tree, and so bit by bit he began to focus on the branches and slowly began to pull them down. Liam was completely unaware as the vines and leaves began to extend, making their way to the ground before quietly wrapping themselves around his legs.

Both Scott and Stiles heard only a brief shout of exclamation before Liam's yells filled the clearing. They both turned to see the youngest member of their pack hanging upside down high in the trees, moving every which way as he struggled to figure out what was going. His eyes finally landed on Scott and Stiles – the former trying to fight back a smile, the latter not trying to fight it at all – and his eyes narrowed into a glare. "Stiles!" he shouted angrily, still swinging in the air. "Stiles, this isn't funny! Let me down!"

"Hey, you wanted to come with us," Stiles replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I bear no blame for happens when you make that choice."

"What are you talking about?!" Liam yelled with incredulity. "You're completely to blame! Now quit bullshitting me and let me down!"

Scott and Stiles walked across the clearing until they were beneath Liam and looking up at him. "I don't know," Stiles said, shaking his head. "You seem like you're enjoying yourself up there."

"Stiles!"

"Scott, what do you think?"

Scott said nothing and just shook his head as he turned away, unable to fight the smile that was pulling at his lips.

Stiles turned back to Liam, his face set in mock contemplation. "I think he said you should stay up there."

Liam huffed and tried to swing himself around to face Scott. "Scott!" he pleaded.

But Scott just shook his head. "No way man," he said, raising his hands. "I'm staying out of this."

"But Scott…!"

Stiles grinned and held out his hand, pointing his finger and poking it in the air. Liam felt a push against his stomach and he began rocking back and forth. He felt another push and the swings grew greater, until he felt like he was on the worst upside-down carnival ride he'd ever been on in his life.

Stiles continued to push Liam back and forth for another minute as he quietly laughed and Liam made loud shouts of protest, until finally Scott nudged him in the side with his elbow. "Let the kid go, Stiles. You've tort – ...you've bugged him enough."

Though Stiles tried to hide it, the near slip-up of Scott's words casted an immediate effect and the grin on his face slowly faded away. With a sigh he brought the branches down, lowering Liam to the ground. Unexpectedly, one of the branches snapped – sending Liam falling the rest of the way to the ground below. Out of instinct Stiles reached out and gathered the air together, trying to grab the werewolf and slow his descent. He managed to catch him for only a moment before his hold broke and Liam fell the final few feet, landing with a thump.

Liam groaned and slowly made his way to his feet, while Stiles put his hands back down by his sides, ignoring Scott's questioning eyes he could feel were on him and the unspoken words that he could already hear: this is why you need to practice. And so for the rest of the morning, that was exactly what Stiles did.

It wasn't until later that evening that Stiles arrived back home, after having dropped off both Scott and Liam at each of their homes. His dad's cruiser was surprisingly parked in the driveway and Stiles drove up the pavement, stopping beside it. Putting the jeep into park, he turned off the ignition and everything fell into silence. He could see his dad through the window where he sat at the dining room table, pouring over a bunch of papers and documents. Stiles watched him in silence for a few minutes, trying but failing to push back the thoughts that were running through his mind. One in particular – a memory – whispered loudly in his ears.

"You need to accept this. If you don't accept the power that you have, you will never be able to use it. Not in the way that you need in order to defeat the Witch – and all those who will come after."

And all those who will come after.

He'd griped and groaned when Scott had woken up him that morning; had complained that it was too early, that they didn't need to go. But they had. He did. He'd joked and pretended as though it were a game, as though his powers was just something fun to play with, but it wasn't. They weren't. And though he might protest and grumble when going to practice, the truth was that there wasn't anything more important right now that he needed to do than that; he needed to practice as much as he could, he needed to learn all he could find. Because if he didn't – if he didn't practice and gain control and get strong – then it would be those around him who would be the ones to pay for it. It would be his friends and his family – his father – that would pay the price of his negligence; that would pay the price of his weakness.

So he needed to work; he needed to get strong. Because as Alayna had said and as the Witch had implied, there were many creatures out there who knew who he was, who knew what he could do. And though they hadn't yet arrived, Stiles knew that at some point down the line – be it months or be it years – they would come. And when they did, he wanted to be ready for them; because if they were anything like the Witch, then they would need far more than just werewolves and banshees to fight them – and Stiles would be damned if he let anyone else fight his battles for him. If he was indeed the beacon of Beacon Hills, then he was going to make sure that if anything did arrive, it would not last for long.

"Hey, so were you planning on going to Lydia's party this weekend?"

Scott leaned against the locker doors as he waited for Stiles to finish thumbing in his code, his eyebrows raised questioningly as he waited for an answer.

Stiles frowned, finally pulling the lock and turning it open. He shoved his textbooks inside and proceeded to take out his math book, sticking a pencil between his teeth as he rummaged around in his bag for his calculator. He felt a nudge against his shoulder and he looked up to see Scott peering at him expectantly. Stiles grabbed the pencil and took it out of his mouth. "What?"

"I said, are you planning to go to Lydia's party this weekend? It'll be the pen… the penltum… penahl –."

"Penultimate," Stiles corrected absently, having gone back to looking for his calculator.

"Yeah, that one. It'll be the penultimate party of the year – the penultimate party of senior year. It could even be the last ever Lydia Martin party! You're not going to miss that, are you?"

Stiles gave a silent shout of hurrah after he finally spied his calculator and quickly fished it out of his bag, setting it down beside his pencil. He heard Scott exhale in a put-upon sigh. "You know, there was a time when you'd have given anything to go to a Lydia Martin party," he said. "We both did. It was like, the epitome of cool."

"Wow, Scott," Stiles finally replied, grabbing his things and balancing them in his arms. "You're using such big words today. 'Penultimate' and 'epitome'? Is there a girl in English class you're trying to impress?"

The moment Stiles said those words he knew it was a mistake, as almost immediately the good-natured smile that had been on Scott's lips faded away, and the dark cloud of despair that had been haunting them both for the past two months settled over him once more. Stiles audibly groaned and slammed his locker shut, turning on his heel and making his way into the throng of students in the hallway. "Scott, dude – please. Please don't do this to me man, okay? Just forget what I said – I didn't mean it. Just… just don't even think about… about anything you might be thinking about, okay? Just take a deep breath, hold it, and focus on something completely different. Think about math class, or lacrosse, or even think about what awesome video game you're going to play after school today. Just think happy thoughts, okay?"

"Hey guys!"

Stiles looked up to see Malia and Lydia walking towards them, smiles on their faces and books in their arms as they stopped to say hello on their way to class.

"Ladies," Stiles greeted, returning their smiles with his own. "How goes your day?"

"Good," Malia replied.

"Surprisingly, I'm having a good day as well," Lydia stated happily. "All the planning for this weekend is going wonderfully. The DJ is booked, the decorators have been hired, and I'm having the invitations printed as we speak. We're going to be at Juniper Lake; it'll be a great way to kick off spring break."

"Yeah, it should be pretty fun," Malia said. "Except for the fact that Lydia's forcing me to find a date, even though I've already said that I want to go alone." Malia looked pointedly at Lydia, who just rolled her eyes.

"Oh please, Malia. No one wants to go to parties alone. You're just upset because you don't know who to ask. But don't worry dear," she said, patting Malia's arm, "we'll find you someone soon."

Malia rolled her own eyes and shook her head, her gaze turning and landing on Scott. "Hey, it's too bad Kira left. Now you'll have to look for someone el –."

A cacophony of shocked and angry noises interrupted Malia's words and she blinked, turning to look at Stiles who was staring at her in incredulous disbelief. "Wha – Malia! Malia, what are you doing?! You don't say her name in front of you-know-who!" He waved his arms in front of Scott, as though blocking his vision would somehow deafen his ears. "You've just – I've been working all morning to get him to this point and you just ruined all of it!"

He turned around and pressed his books into Scott's chest – who looked as though his kitten had just been run over – forcing him to hold them before physically grabbing his shoulders and turning him around. He pushed him down the hall in the opposite direction, casting a dark glare behind him as he left. "You are not allowed to speak to him for the rest of the day, understand? You – you are prohibited from even saying a word to him until after the last bell has rung; and if you do speak to him, you will only say nice, uplifting things that have nothing to do with you-know-what or you-know-who." Stiles turned back around and continued pushing Scott down the hall, muttering a final word of "women" before grabbing Scott's sleeve and disappearing into class.

The school-day soon came to an end and Stiles found himself sitting on the sidelines while he watched Scott running across the field in his lacrosse gear, swerving around the other players and making his way towards the net. After a few more twists and turns he threw the ball past the goalkeeper and scored. Stiles leaned back against the bleachers as Scott's team cheered, along with some of the crowd that had come to watch. His eyes proceeded to follow Coach as he walked across the field and began reprimanding – okay, yelling – at the other team, telling them where they went wrong and how they needed to "stop letting McCall run the whole show". Stiles caught Scott's eye and he quickly smiled, nodding his head in congratulations before Scott went back to the middle of the field to start the next round.

Stiles sighed, glancing at his watch as he waited for practice to be over. Being second string – or third string, as it now so often felt – may be all right since he was never expected to carry the weight of the game on his shoulders like Scott was, but sheesh – if it couldn't be the most boring thing ever. The only reason he'd been coming lately to practice (rather than practicing that which he actually needed to learn) was to make sure that Scott focused his energy on something other than his breakup with Kira; and at the moment that was a top-three priority – for both Scott's sanity and Stiles'.

"So Mandy, do you know where you're going after graduation?"

Two girls made their way onto the bleachers from the sidelines, sitting down a few seats behind Stiles. They continued to talk as others around them shouted and cheered, discussing that which Stiles had been trying to ignore for the past few weeks.

"I'm debating between staying in-State or going somewhere else. How 'bout you?"

"I'm getting as far away from this town as I can. Seriously – I've spent my whole life here, and I just want to get out and be somewhere new and fun. I was thinking about going to a college on the east coast, but I'm also thinking about going overseas."

"Do you know what you're taking?"

"I tell my family that I'm going to get a degree in physics, but honestly? I have no idea. I'm just going to take general courses for my first semester and decide what I want to do from there. I just want to get out of this town…."

"Oh come on, it's not that bad here!"

"Yes it is! Everyone knows everyone and I just want to be in a place where no one knows me or who I am. I just want to be in a place where I can just be me, you know? Where I can be someone new."

Stiles tried to ignore the conversation and focus instead on the game, but their exchange was impossible not to hear. They continued to talk about what they were going to do until finally Stiles had enough and moved to a different seat at the end of the stands.

It was a conversation being had by every senior student across the country – heck, across the entire world. A bunch of eighteen-year olds being forced to decide what the rest of their lives would look like, which pristine universities would be the ones to educate them, and which careers they'd spend the next four to eight years of their lives working towards. It was a conversation and decision that every teenager couldn't wait to have – until they were actually having it; at which point all their hopes and dreams came to a terrifying crossroads, and they were forced to decide which dreams actually had hope, and which hopes were actually just dreams.

Stiles had been trying to ignore that decision for a while now. His dad had brought it up a few times and he'd even had Melissa asking what he was planning to do come fall, but he'd always shrugged the question off and said he was still thinking about it. It wasn't a lie – he was thinking about it. Only, he was thinking about it in an entirely different way from everyone else.

If he did go to university in the fall, what would that mean for him and the school he chose to go to? Alayna had warned him that others would follow Givens, that for all these years it wasn't actually the Nemeton that had been the beacon of Beacon Hills, it had been him. Whether the creatures who'd attacked them over the years knew it or not, they'd been drawn here by him and his powers, by his being the Blessed. He'd thankfully been surrounded by werewolves and banshees, werecoyotes and kitsunes, so the people of Beacon Hills had always been protected. But if he went to university, if he left what little protection he and the innocent people around him had… then what chance did anyone that came into contact with him have? He was stronger now, yes, more comfortable in his gift – but it hadn't even been a year. He was still trying to learn new things, he was still trying to master his control over the elements – of which he still only had two – and he wasn't sure he would learn enough about them in time for the fall, where he would then most likely be the only standing between innocent people and the rest of the supernatural world.

Scott had said he would go to whatever university Stiles went to, that there was no question about that; and while Stiles wanted to believe that he and Scott would never actually have to be separated, he couldn't let his decisions and his being the Blessed inhibit Scott from being everything that he could be in this life. He couldn't make him come with him just because he was scared, or because he thought he needed his help. Just because his future was now so uncertain, didn't mean that Scott's had to be. In fact, he would do everything he could to make sure that it wasn't.

"Hey man," a voice suddenly said, jolting Stiles out of his thoughts. Stiles looked up at Scott then around the field and realised that the team had taken a few minutes break between practice; Scott grabbed a water-bottle from his bag and took a long drink as he sat down beside his friend. "What's up?"

"Oh, you know; just watching everyone practice and actually have fun while I sit here wondering what I'm gonna make for supper tonight."

"Why don't you just order pizza? That's what I would do."

"That's because you have a mom who regularly makes you home-cooked food and so eating out is actually exciting. I, on the other hand, have a father who used to always bring fast-food home like it was the only food on the planet. You can only eat out for so long before you start to forget what home-made food tastes like. Besides, I always make supper. My biggest problem is deciding which meal I'm going to make."

Scott tapped his foot against the ground as he looked out into the field. "My mom's working the nightshift tonight; I can come over and help you, if you want. I have to learn how to cook anyway so I won't starve once we leave for college. In reality, though, I'll probably just eat whatever you make."

Stiles pressed his lips together and didn't reply. A few minutes later Coach's shrill whistle broke through the air and everyone began making their way back towards the middle of the field. Scott got to his feet, turning around to Stiles with a questioning look. "Sound good?" he asked.

Stiles finally nodded his head, forcing a smile onto his face. "Yeah, sounds good."

Scott flashed him a smile one last time before turning back around and heading out for the second half of practice.

The second half of practice went much like the first, only this time Stiles began to take notice of one particular player who seemed to keep getting in everyone's way. At first Stiles had thought it was accidental; that – like so many other players on Coach's lacrosse team – he was just athletically challenged. But as Stiles watched his footsteps and movements, he began to notice that each step appeared to be carefully placed, and with every passing minute, each "accidental" bump into another player began to almost look as though it were deliberately done. It was when the player "tripped" into Scott, forcing him to miss a pass, that Stiles knew it for certain: this guy was playing dirty.

Well then, Stiles thought, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Two can play at that game.

The next time the guy – number 32, Mark Geoffreys – began heading towards one of the players on Scott's team, Stiles quietly lifted his fingers and, gathering a pocket of air together, shoved it against the boy's chest, pushing him over. Caught off guard, Geoffreys stumbled past the player he'd been just about to hit, veering off into the opposite direction. At that same moment Stiles raised his other hand and the ground beneath the boy's feet rose and caught his foot, sending him sprawling face-first into the dirt.

Stiles choked back a laugh and quickly put his hands down, leaning back casually against the stands. He watched as Coach blew his whistle and the game came to a stop, everyone looking up to see what had caused the disruption. Geoffreys spluttered and protested as Coach asked him what the heck had happened and if, as a member of this team, could he at least learn how to run without falling flat on his ass?

Geoffreys mumbled an annoyed apology before getting back to his feet and a moment later the game resumed once more. It didn't take long, however, for him to start bumping into the other players again, and the moment he did Stiles was there to stop him; or at least make his cheating a heck of a lot more difficult.

He shoved Geoffreys this way and that with the air, jabbing him in the sides and sometime sending a burst of wind to slap him in the face. He could see the boy was getting confused as he looked around, trying to figure out if anyone else was experiencing what he was, but the game's constant movement kept him from being able to really focus on it. The game continued on.

Scott was heading toward the enemy goal, his stick raised and about to receive a pass from Danny, from which standpoint he had the perfect opportunity to score the final goal. Stiles watched as Geoffreys made one last effort and ran towards him, where Stiles was sure he was going to "accidentally" fall into Scott's side and make him miss the pass. Without a second thought Stiles raised his fingers and created an invisible rope of air formed right in front of Geoffreys' path. Almost like a cartoon, Geoffreys – whose eyes were focused entirely on Scott - tripped over the rope; he stumbled, trying to catch himself as he continued to make his way towards the werewolf. With one final gust of wind, Geoffreys crashed into a member of his own team, limbs sprawling everywhere as they both fell ungainly down into a heap. Scott, having caught the pass, ran towards the goal and finished scoring the final point, winning the game.

Coach blew the whistle and it was then that everyone could hear Geoffreys' loud swears, as the cheater began to complain of his bizarre, unfair, and ill-fortune. Someone else then shouted that perhaps he should stop cheating and play the game properly, at which point the two began to break out in a fight.

Coach blew his whistle shrilly as he yelled and began his efforts at breaking the two up. The rest of the team took that moment as an impromptu break and went back to get their water bottles. Scott made his way over to Stiles and plopped down beside him. Stiles said nothing at first, before finally letting out a cough and schooling his face into mild curiosity. "So, how was the game?" he asked.

When he turned he finally saw Scott's face, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow and knowing eyes. "Geoffreys is being a jerk, but that's nothing new." He took a swig of water before bringing the bottle back down, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "It's nice to see him mess up, though. He's been an ass ever since he joined the team. I seriously don't know why Coach lets him stay."

"Because he's a decent player, and in Beacon Hills decent means you're practically a star."

"It's a shame Jackson wasn't able to… mess up like this when he was here; now that would have been fun to watch."

"That would have been gold to watch. Would have felt great, too."

"Yeah, well. It's not like I would know anything about that."

Stiles' grin stretched across his face. "'Course not."

Coach blew his whistle again and yelled at everyone to get back to the field, before glancing at his watch and suddenly yelling once more, only this time telling everyone to pack up and go home for the day. Although they still had another twenty-minutes of practice left according to the clock, it apparently was time to be done.

"You know," Stiles commented as he got up and followed Scott and the rest of the team to the locker room. "I don't even think he knew I was there. That's a new low, even for him."

"Well if it's any consolation, I think the reason he's been more crazy than usual lately is because he has a girlfriend – and this time he actually wants to keep her. I mean, he's cancelled practice three times now and he keeps calling me McCallister, so it doesn't surprise me that he's now forgetting who's even on his team."

"It doesn't really matter," Stiles said as he reached his gym locker and began removing his gear. "Lacrosse hasn't really been the same this year."

"Yeah…." Scott replied quietly, taking his helmet off his head. "And with graduation coming, it's hard to really worry about sports." Scott glanced at Stiles, but seeing the boarded off expression on his face he sighed, deciding to talk about something else.

Scott wasn't an idiot. Oblivious, sometimes – maybe. But he was smarter than people gave him credit for. And if there was one thing he knew about more than anything else, it was Stiles. He wasn't sure exactly what it was that was going through his friend's head – that was something no one with any amount of degrees in psychology could do – but he knew that something was bothering him, that was keeping his mouth shut and his mood melancholy. Scott knew that it had something to do with graduation and what they'd be doing in the fall; he'd tried broaching the subject with Stiles for a while now, wanting to ask where he was planning to go so that they'd be able to apply to the same universities together, but every time he brought it up Stiles would shut down and it'd be like trying to talk to a brick wall, getting no real response and going absolutely no where.

He couldn't understand what Stiles was so worried about, but Scott was determined to figure it out; and once he did he was going to make sure that he would never have to worry about it again. Friendships like theirs didn't end with high-school – it was never going to – and if that was what Stiles was worrying about, then Scott wanted to quell those fears and make sure that he never worried about them again.

But for now, Scott would let it be. They still had a few months left before grad and therefore plenty of time to talk about it – what could possibly happen between then and now?

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to leave a review if you have the time :) Thanks!