I took my reading glasses off and rubbed my eyes, leaning back in my beanbag chair. It was large enough to be used as a desk chair. My mom had gotten it for me two years ago, even though I already had a desk chair. But the beanbag chair is a lot more comfortable, so the desk chair is retired in the corner for if I have company—which is never. Mostly, Scott utilizes it or, currently, it's being occupied by my dirty laundry.

I ran a hand over my hair and sighed, flicking the monitor off. "That's enough physics for one night," I muttered. I'd finished the majority of the assignment, but there were still two or three problems that I had skipped over with the intention of returning and finishing.

Unfortunately, it's three hours past dinnertime, and the rice and vegetables are calling my name, so I fully intend to tell the teacher that I had trouble with those three problems and have them finished up that way.

Hopping up on the banister, I slid downstairs just in time to see my mom pass through the living room. "Hey, ma!"

"Get off the banister." She had an armful of laundry and she plopped it into the basket down on the coffee table. I made a face at her and quickly scrambled down, looking out the window of the front door.

It was dark out now. Crap, I thought, maybe I'd been doing my homework longer than I thought. "What time is it?"

Mom began sorting through the laundry, separating them into three piles. "It's eight-thirty. You finished your homework?"

"Yeah," I waved her off as I quickly ducked out and trekked into the kitchen. If it's eight-thirty, Scott will be home in about a half an hour. I loaded a plate full of vegetables and rice and popped it in the microwave to reheat. In the meantime, I ducked back into the living room and wrung my hands, trying to figure out a way to bring this up without seeming suspicious.

Mom had barely made a dent in the laundry. "You, uh, need help?" I said, and she paused to glance at me over her shoulder.

"Really?" She raised her eyebrows. "You never offer to help with the laundry. Well, I'm almost finished now anyways." I breathed a sigh of relief, having no intent of actually helping her. "But you can take the last load out of the washer and put it in to dry."

I bit back a groan and ran a hand over my hair, my fingers getting caught in some tangles. "Oh, uh, sure thing…" I cleared my throat and set about putting my hair into a braid, slowly walking towards the chair to perch on the armrest. My food still had about two minutes to go. Clearing my throat again, I took a deep breath. "Hey, in my study hall today, my teacher was trying to describe symptoms to us and no one could figure out what it was."

Mom hummed as she began to sort through some socks, matching pairs up. I shifted and tried again. "It was uh, well, someone had been bitten by a wild animal, and then the patient was … stronger. And faster. And … more agile. He could also smell and hear better than ever before…"

Mom snorted. "Sounds like the plot to a superhero movie."

I forced out a laugh and pointed at her. "Oh, you! It does not."

She looked at me strangely, pausing from folding to look at me. She must have seen something in the way I sat, or she wasn't a complete and total dunce and realized how utterly stupid my questions were and how weird I was acting, because she suddenly turned away from her task at hand and gave me her full attention. "Why are you asking? What class is this for?"

"Oh, it wasn't a real class… Study hall, right? Who needs it." I forced another laugh and trailed off, my mom tilting her head slightly, and I pressed on. "It was no big deal, I just thought, well, since you're a nurse, you might have more experience in this sort of thing."

"Okay…" she said slowly, and then sighed, actually pausing to consider the question. "Well it sounds like he was trying to play a joke on you kids. If a wild animal bites someone, there's a host of diseases they could contract, but none of them are going to make you stronger, faster, or more agile."

I hummed and sighed, looking away like it had already left my mind. "Yeah, you're right. He was just being a dork, I think."

"I mean, if you find something like that, sign me up!" She joked. "I don't think coffee is strong enough anymore."

I delicately snorted and thankfully, the microwave dinged. I nearly rocketed out of my seat and sped towards the kitchen. "I'll do that!" I called over my shoulder.

As soon as I was out of the living room, I let out a heavy sigh and widened my eyes at myself. Geez, I need to get better at lying… she probably thinks I'm on drugs.

Which—well, never mind that. I grabbed my food out of the microwave and began to stir it, sitting down at the table with another sigh. I'd been a vegetarian for going on six months now, and consequently lost several pounds. As in, ten or twenty. Since being a vegetarian doesn't allow for a whole lot of options—I'm eating a lot less now. I'm also eating healthier than I ever have, choosing water over other drinks. That might not seem like such a big deal, but when you drink Dr. Pepper constantly, every day, for four straight years and then suddenly quit cold turkey… well, let's just say you can tell a difference.

The cinnamon buns were the most sugary, fattening food I've had since... actually, since the pizza from last night. And then the garlic knots—okay, fine. So I'm backsliding, so what? It's not as if I was fat before. Chubby, maybe, but I've shed all my baby fat this summer! When I trained with Scott, I did a lot of exercising, too. It's left me a lot more slim and toned than before.

I've finally got that flat tummy I've always dreamed of, but I'm nowhere near washboard abs. In fact, I'm nowhere near abs period. Especially if I keep eating miniature cinnamon rolls, garlic knots and pizza every night.

Anyways, enough about that. Mom seems to be at a loss for what Scott's experiencing. I mean, granted, she had no idea that I was describing a legitimate condition that her son is afflicted with, so she might not have been trying too hard, but apparently nothing jumped out at her. I guess it leads me to think that maybe there's nothing wrong with him at all.

Well, this is good news! Right?

I finished eating and slipped into the laundry room—which was actually just a small closet hidden behind the downstairs bathroom, and switched over the last load. After I threw in some dryer sheets, I set the timer and closed it up, and skipped into the living room to catch the tail end of an episode of House Hunters with my mom.

It was like that, with the freshly laundered clothes lying in neat piles around us, that Scott found us two hours later. He was late.

"Oh," I put on the voice of an old woman, squinting at Scott's face. "Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Who's that—mother, does that not look like our long lost Scotty?—Oh!" I cried, covering my face. "How terribly I miss him!"

"Heh?" Mom played along, cupping her hand behind her ear. "Why are you whispering!"

I cut back a laugh and leaned forward, squinting hard at Scott. "You there! Come closer to we frail, old women! Let us look upon your face!" I took him by the shoulders and let out a long, soulful cry. "It's as if our Scotty has finally come home to us, mother! If only it were true."

Scott pushed me away and turned to mom. "Sorry I'm late, someone hit a dog on the road. I had to set its leg, and it took longer than expected."

I gasped and dropped the act. "Someone hit a puppy," I pressed my hands to my mouth. "Poor baby! Is he okay?"

"It wasn't a puppy, it was a dog."

"All dogs are puppies." I quickly said, as it if should be obvious. Scott stared at me for half a beat longer before looking away.

"Anyways. Dinner?"

"In the microwave."

"Oh, no, it's on the counter," I winced, remembering when I took his plate out so I could warm mine up. "Whoops."

"Ugh," Scott rolled his eyes and stalked towards the kitchen, and I patted mom's shoulder twice before jumping up to trail after him.

"So what kind of dog was it?"

"I don't know, hey, how do you know if a girl likes you?"

Reeling from the sudden and drastic subject change, I raised my eyebrows and blinked rapidly, watching as he stuck his plate in the microwave and then made his way over to the fridge to grab a soda.

"Uhhh… Well… I—uh, how do you know if a guy likes you?"

"I don't know, I guess… if he pays more attention to you than anyone else when you're around. Or if he goes out of his way to do nice things for you."

I raised a hand and gestured vaguely, as if to say, there you go. Scott's face scrunched and he shook his head.

"No, nope. No way, chicks are way more complicated and weird than that!"

I laughed and hopped up to sit on the counter, swinging my legs. "No, we're really not! I promise. Both of those things are true for girls, too. It's just that sometimes you guys do frustrating things that make it difficult to like you."

"Oh, and you're so perfect?" He scoffed, before what I said finally sunk in and he leaned forward soberly. "What things?" He asked intensely, and I snorted.

"I don't know, things. Like, if it seems like you're into her one minute, and then you flip a switch and you're talking to some other girl. Oh, that'll drive a girl crazy! Or, if you suddenly seem uninterested for some reason. That can really hurt, and it's the most confusing thing in the world. Mostly, it's that—at least early on… or, no, the same can be said for relationships that have been going for a while." I paused and took a breath. "Basically, it's whenever the guy seems to behave or react differently than we anticipate him to, because we've already mapped out how every interaction that we have with him should/will go, and when they don't go the way we expect them to, we become anxious and fretfully try to explain or puzzle together why. And sometimes those explanations—well, sometimes we don't like them. So that's why it seems like we suddenly hate you or we're mad at you all the time. Because you're such boys, and it drives us crazy."

Scott stared at me, slowly digesting all this information. "…Huh." He said just as the microwave dinged. He turned and retrieved his plate, and I brought my socked feet up to the counter so I could sit and face him when he sat down at the table.

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason…" He tried to dodge, and peeked up at me. He saw my expression and sighed, setting his fork down. "Okay, fine… there's this girl—"

"I knew it!"

"She's the new girl. Her name is Allison, and she just moved here from San Francisco, and she's beautiful—I mean, oh my god, Audrey—I've never met anyone like her before!"

I closed my mouth, which had fallen open in shock and awe as he gushed to me, and just barely suppressed the Awww he wouldn't have appreciated. Drawing my sweatshirt sleeves down over my fingers, I pressed my hand to my mouth and covered my shit-eating-grin, nodding for him to go on.

"Anyways, she's the one who hit the dog with her car, and she came running to the animal clinic in the rain. Well, she drove there, but she was soaked from waiting for me. She actually picked the dog up off the road and brought it with her, which basically no one does because they're either afraid they'll make it worse and hurt it more, or they're just jerks and drive off anyways and someone else calls for them—anyways, she was crying and I calmed her down and helped the dog… and we just really hit it off, you know? And—I asked her to go to the party!"

By this time, I was off the counter and jumping up and down and squealing. I suddenly held my hands out and gasped, and Scott's dopey grin hesitated on his face. "Wait—what party?"

"The one that Lydia is throwing."

"This Friday?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I think I have detention!"

"Well get out of it!" He exclaimed, and I flapped my hands uselessly, pacing back and forth in my fuzzy socks.

"How!? It's Coach Finstock!"

"Coach?" Scott scoffed, reaching out to grab me by the elbow. "You mean the detention he mentioned on the field?" I nodded, wide-eyed, and Scott laughed with relief. "Oh, Audrey, hey! Don't worry about that! There's no way Finstock's gonna make you actually go to detention. He barely does those anyways, he hates them more than kids do, and the season just started. Relax! You're fine, you'll be able to go."

"I better," I pouted, sighing happily and pressing my hands against my chin again. I paused and smiled, looking at Scott. "Tell me more about Allison!"

"Okay, so the first time I saw her…"

I sat on the bleachers, rubbing my hands together and trying to get some warmth back into them. It was a particularly cool afternoon, and another day of practice. I kept my head low and didn't do anything that might upset the coach, and also… I spied on Allison.

So, first of all, she is really pretty. And she seems really nice—barring the fact that she's hanging out with Lydia Martin. But that can be overlooked. Actually, everything about Allison would appeal to Scott, even the Lydia part, because that would speak volumes to how cool she must be if Lydia Martin has dragged her to the dark side after only days of attending Beacon Hills.

I'm not sure what to make of her just yet, because she seems uncomfortable and like everything she says to Lydia is forced, but she's also eyeing the field anxiously. It seems like she's waiting for someone, which pisses me off because I know how much my brother likes her, and if she's into someone else… I'll hate her forever.

"Audrey!" Stiles screeched from behind me, scaring me so bad I almost fell off the bleachers. He grabbed me by the arms with a grip so tight I actually winced. "Audrey! Thank god, where's Scott?!"

"Uh—probably in the locker rooms, Stiles—let go, would ya!" I jerked my arms out of his grasp and frowned at him, as he switched between glancing and me and whirling all around on his feet in search of Scott.

He paused and looked down at me long enough to touch my shoulders and mutter a quick apology. "Listen, I just overheard my dad on the phone and they got the DNA results back about the hairs they found on the body in the woods, and it matched a wolf! A wolf, Audrey—do you know what this means?"

I glanced over at some of our classmates who were giving us a funny look and smiled fakely at them. "Hi, Steven. Cho." I grinned, taking Stiles' shoulder and pushing him away as I stood. "How ya doin'? Love the jacket, Steve, really brings out your eyes—" As soon as I was off the bleachers, I turned and dragged Stiles out of their hearing range, making sure to smack the side of his head for good measure. "Dude!" I hissed, and he winced as he whirled around to scan for my brother some more.

"What the hell was that for!? Did you even hear me—"

"Uh, yeah, the whole field heard you Stiles! Did you hear you?"

Stiles paused and focused entirely on me, and I took in his frantic form and lacrosse gear. For some reason it was a bit unnerving to actually see him all dudded up in the whole uniform—it'd been a while since I had… well, taken the time to notice him in it. I shook it off and focused on what he was saying. "It matched a wolf, Audrey. He was right! This could change—"

"What?" I interrupted, shrugging at him. He popped his mouth closed and stared at me with wide eyes. "What could it change? So it was wolf, so what?"

"So—" He cried, practically busting a blood vessel in his eye. "So what!? So what! So—it was a wolf! I was wrong!"

"Well, still, I mean, what does that prove? That he's lucky to be alive? That he's lucky it just bit him once? I mean, how vicious are wolves, really? We have no idea! That's the thing, Stiles—we still don't know anything. And… I talked to my mom—"

"Whoa, okay, what!?" He practically levitated from the field in shock. "You talked to your mom? What'd you tell her!?"

"No—I didn't tell her anything! I just—sort of asked—like, I said that it was for a class—well, anyways, I asked her about the symptoms and if she knew of anything that it could be, and she said no. Well, more than that, she said it sounded like the plot to a cheesy superhero movie, and if I found whatever bit the hypothetical patient then I should sign her up."

Stiles' face fell and he looked away as he processed this new information.

"Yeah." I said. "That's what I said. I mean… Who knows? Maybe it… maybe it's nothing. I mean—hopefully it's nothing. Hopefully he'll just heal on his own, and it'll all go away, right?"

And it was a loaded question. Because while we didn't know a thing about it, we both know deep down that… what if it whatever bit Scott was werewolf? How cool would that be? To know—to be related to a living, breathing, real life werewolf? Especially if it's making him better, faster, and stronger? And well, nothing happens in our lives. We've been complaining about that for the past six months. So… what if this changes things? What if it changes everything… would that be so bad?

I knew Stiles felt the same way, I could see it in the faltering way his light brown eyes stared hesitantly—almost shamefully back at me. He finally looked away and put his hands on his hips with a sigh. "I don't know, Aud. I still think he's been acting weird. I think we should at least keep our guard up, don't you?"

"Definitely." I nodded, turning to point where Scott was getting ready. I could tell he was psyching himself up, because he kept shaking his hands out and jumping in place. "He's gotta go first-elimination. Which means, if he doesn't do well, he's out of the team. Do you really think now is the time to spring this on him?"

Stiles sighed and let his head fall back. "Man, I just…" He lifted his head back up and looked at me, his eyebrows creased. "You know?"

I snorted and nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Coach Finstock blew the whistle and screamed for the boys to gather round him on the field, and Stiles briefly touched my shoulder before taking off. I called good luck to him and went to my usual spot, low on the bleachers, so I could go kneel next to Stiles on the bench once the try-outs got going if I wanted to.

I caught Allison waving eagerly at Scott and felt a bubble of hope rising in my chest, bringing my mood up as I saw my brother's face light up on the field. Well, it looks like I found whom she had been waiting to see, after all.

Try-outs started and Scott was… on fire. There was a bit of a hiccup at the very beginning, when he got the ball and was immediately knocked on his ass by Jackson, but now he was twirling around players and dodging tackles like he had all the time in the world.

It wasn't until he did a backflip over three guys that I called bullshit. I rocketed to my feet, but not to cheer—to catch Stiles' eye. He turned on the bench to send me a worried look, and I quickly made my way over to him.

"Okay—forget everything I just said," I hissed, my heart racing, and Stiles threw his hands out.

"Yeah huh!" He nodded frantically, and we both watched as Coach called Scott over and basically screamed that he had made first line.

Instinctively, I threw my hand in the air and squealed, and when Scott turned to find my face in the crowd, he looked at the bleachers first. Then he saw Allison, smiled at her, and then he found me next to Stiles and pointed at me triumphantly, going so far as to do a little hop in the air, which I mimicked.

He turned away to finish his try-out, and Stiles and I made plans to meet up afterwards to discuss this more.

I sighed and flipped through the pages, propping my feet up on Stiles' wall. I was currently lying on his bed with about three pillows propping me up. It felt like my life was gathering somewhat of a routine—more and more often, I was pouring over pages late into the night until my eyes were dry and tired... especially without my reading glasses. I gave them a good rub and let out a groan. "This still seems like a waste of time to me."

"Look, we typed the symptoms into Web MD and nothing came up." He said, a highlighter cap hanging out of his mouth and making his words slightly slurred. He spat it out and wiped it off on his shirt, and I scrunched my face at him. "And I used the advanced search, the same one I've literally seen my own doctor use before."

"Oh, my god," I said, disgusted. "You can't be serious. Your doctor used Web MD? In front of you?"

"Yeah!"

"What—what are medical degrees for?" I shrugged, agitated. "Why do we have medical school if the doctors are starting to turn to the Internet?

"I don't know, but the point is, if Web MD can't diagnose his symptoms, then we need to dig a little deeper."

"Or—maybe—there's nothing wrong with him."

"Audrey, you saw him on the field!" Stiles leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. Clearly frustrated with me at this point, he put his hands out and shook his head. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy for him, but this... this is real, Audrey. I mean, let's look at what we know."

He turned back to the giant white paper we had pinned to his wall, using bright red marker to list Scott's symptoms in a column on one side, and then a list of possible causes on the right.

"Increased agility and dexterity. Sudden increase of gross and fine motor skills. Acutely heightened sensory details. Rapid cell regeneration."

"All of which is fancy speak for: he's better, faster, stronger. Can heal wounds more easily." I paused and sighed. "I mean, overall, there's not really anything here that can't be explained away by… trying harder. Except for the wounds, which is definitely strange. I mean, when I tried to talk about it with him last night, he told me that his bite had completely healed."

"Like—completely?" Stiles frowned, twirling the marker in his hand.

I nodded, shrugging a shoulder. "It was like he was trying to convince me nothing was wrong, like it was no big deal because it was already all better—but that wound shouldn't have healed that quickly. It was… like, I'm pretty sure he should've gotten stitches. I know it doesn't make sense, but so far that's the only thing that's really startling. I mean, there's no, climbing up walls, laser vision, claws descending out of his knuckles. He's not reading minds or controlling metal, lifting cars or exploding pineapples with his mind." I paused before adding, "Or flying."

Stiles waved his hand through the air. "Alright, alright, alright, I get it. But then look at the possible causes we have!"

I pressed my lips together and slid my feet off his wall so I could flip over and sit up straight. Crossing my arms, I read them aloud. "Lycanthropy. A friendly robotic extraterrestrial (see Earth to Echo)." I pointed at him, "Still say that's a real contender," And Stiles muttered to me and waved impatiently for me to go on. "Okay, okay, let's see… He found the weird glowing thing from Chronicle that made the kids have superpowers. Vampire. Benjamin Button. Looper. Narnia. The pin from Tomorrowland. Lord Voldemort. Drugs. Delusion of grandeur. Steroids." I paused and ran a hand over my mouth. "Well, at least we have fun," I shrugged with a poorly hidden grin, and Stiles nodded quickly with a snort. "Seriously though, you're right—I mean, honestly? Besides steroids, the one that makes the most sense up there is…"

"Lycanthropy." Stiles nodded. "I know!"

"But how cool would Narnia be?"

"That doesn't even make sense, I shouldn't have let you put it on the board," Stiles grumbled, and I scoffed and jabbed a finger at the board.

"Benjamin Button?!"

"The pin from Tomorrowland?"

"Alright, alright, let's be serious." I stole the marker from his hand, ignoring his protests, and quickly crossed everything off the board except lycanthropy and steroids. Sighing, I turned back to Stiles and put my hands out. "Okay…" I said, and he went to sit at his computer, cracking his knuckles. "Let's research."

"Heightened senses, accelerated healing, enhanced agility, enhanced strength…" I read from Stiles' bed. He was still in his desk chair, and I had his pillow propped under my arms, lying on my stomach with at least twenty papers scattered around me. We'd ruled out the possibility of Scott using steroids around the same time that loss of appetite and fatigue popped up on the list of symptoms, and focused all our efforts on researching lycanthropy. "…known to cure illnesses like epilepsy, asthma, or even cancer." I flicked the paper and looked up at Stiles "Asthma, Stiles."

"I know, I was thinking the same thing… and it says it takes around 48 hours for the bite to heal, unless the person rejects the bite. You said his wound healed last night, right?" I hummed in agreement and he pursed his lips and sighed, looking up at me. "Audrey… do you know what this means?"

"I know, I know… we're just going to have to convince him. When did he say he'd be here?"

And as if on cue, the door opened and my brother walked in. Well, is timing was impeccable. "Hey—Audrey?" He frowned at me, splayed on Stiles' bed with papers scattered all around. He looked back at Stiles and then back at me. "What's going on? Why is she here?"

I raised an eyebrow and scoffed, sitting up. "Uh, hello to you, too, Sunshine."

Actually, his shock was understandable. I think this is the first time in the history of their friendship that I've been alone with Stiles at his house. It's certainly the first time he's invited me over before and without ever mentioning it to Scott. That little fact had yet to occur to us, but now that it'd been pointed out, Stiles and I avoided each other's gaze and briefly lost track of the task at hand.

"Oh—Scott!" Stiles suddenly launched out of his chair. "Okay, so you know how the DNA came back as a match for a wolf on the body?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, we've been doing research all night."

"All night?" He asked, his eyes narrowed at me, and Stiles squirmed as if anxious and annoyed that he was focusing on the wrong point.

"What—you didn't notice I wasn't home?" I frowned, and Scott threw his hands up.

"I thought you'd gone to bed!"

"What? Never mind! Scott, listen to this: Heightened senses, accelerated healing, enhanced agility, enhanced strength… known to cure illnesses like asthma…" I said, looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for him to connect the dots.

He merely frowned down at me and shook his head. He looked back at Stiles and shrugged. "What is this, a riddle?"

"Ugh!" I smacked my forehead and Stiles took over.

"No, listen man—you know how I made a joke about you being a werewolf?"

"Yeah… so?"

"Um… well, it's not a joke anymore."

"Come on, seriously!?" Scott snapped, "You're wasting my time with this? I don't have time! I have to wash mom's car, and then I have a date with Allison tonight!"

"Okay, more important," I reminded, sitting up on my knees so I was face-to-face with him. "Scott—I—for one, think Allison would want you to focus on this for a minute!" I tried to make that lame point seem sincere, looking awkwardly over Scott's shoulder to Stiles for a little support. He nodded rapidly and pointed at me.

"She would want me to discuss the chances of whether or not I'm going to shift into a wolf to howl at the moon?" He hissed, and I paused, glancing back at Stiles helplessly.

"Well... if it would make you happy, I think she'd want you to, right—"

"Well it wouldn't make me happy!" He pushed me out of the way and made for the door again. "I gotta go—"

"No!" Stiles and I cried. "Wait!"

Nearly face planting into the floor, I flew off the bed and popped between the door and my brother, guarding the knob with my life. "You're not leaving yet!"

"Outta my way—"

"Dude, the what about the way you were on the field today? I mean, didn't you stop to question that!?"

"I told you, we trained—"

"Scott," I said, my voice low. He stared at me, his eyes wide and unsuspecting. I shook my head. "We never trained like that. Come on… a back flip?"

"It was probably just adrenaline!"

"You made every shot!" Stiles continued. "You dodged almost every single tackle—you bested Jackson Whittemore on the field today. I mean—it's not just good, it's impossible!"

"It's impossible for me to be better than Jackson?"

"No, it's impossible for you to run all the way down the field, dodge four tackles, outrun every single person, backflip over three players, and then make an amazing shot—all without ever needing to stop and puff your inhaler!" I said, and Scott actually shut up long enough to absorb my words, the silence backing it up. "That's impossible, for you."

Scott looked down and shook his head.

"Scott, we need to figure this out—and fast." Stiles said.

"Okay, okay… we can do it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow—no, dude, the full moon is tonight! Do you get that?"

"I can't think about this now, you guys!" He snapped, causing me to sit back in surprise. "I mean, what are you trying to do!? Everything is finally coming together for me! I made first line, I have a date with an amazing girl, I'm going to a party tomorrow, I mean—why are you trying to ruin this for me?"

"Ruin—" I snapped, pushing Scott away. "Are you serious!?"

Stiles sat down at his desk and turned away, picking up a piece of paper before turning back. "We're trying to help." He looked up at Scott, an almost pleading expression on his face, and I couldn't deny the frustration I felt that Scott was being so difficult.

"Scott, you can't go out tonight. This—this werewolf… virus, poison, whatever you wanna call it—"

"Curse—" Stiles supplied.

"It's going to send you into some sort of… frenzy tonight. Look, look here," I said, jabbing at a paper. "See, the full moon will make you physically shift for the first time, and you're especially more susceptible to it if something upsets you or makes your heart race."

"Nothing gets your heart pumping more than Allison does." Stiles pointed out, sitting back in his chair. "Dude, you gotta cancel the date tonight."

"No, no way," Scott says, shaking his head vehemently. "I can't!"

"Yeah, look, okay…" I put my hands on Stiles' shoulders as he tried to stand, forcing him back into his chair. I paused and tried to think of the best way to phrase this. "Okay, it's not canceling. Tell her you're rescheduling. What about tomorrow night?"

"No. I can't cancel on our first date!"

"Yes, you can."

"No!"

"Scott, yes! You can't go!"

"No!"

I sighed and Stiles sprang out of the chair, darting for Scott's bag. "What're you doing?" Scott cried.

"I'm canceling the date!"

"Stiles—don't!" I said, knowing that would only make it worse, and Scott panicked and grabbed Stiles' shoulder with a roar to tear him away from his bag, sending him crashing back into the wall. I gasped and started forward, but Scott had drawn his fist back and for a split second I thought he was about to punch Stiles.

He stopped himself at the last second, using his momentum to throw the desk chair over. The legs of the chair clattered into my ankles, knocking me back. I managed to catch myself before I fell, but just barely. Scott gasped upon seeing me stumble, his hand flashing out. I reacted without thinking. Somehow I stopped myself from flinching, but the sentiment was there, and it hung in the air between us. Scott's hand was held out towards me, and he blinked at me and slowly withdrew it. Stiles' mouth was agape with shock, and I was covering mine. None of us said a single word. The silence was so thick, it felt like hands at my throat as Scott slowly backed away, shaking his head and rushing out of the room with a slurred apology, stopping only long enough to grab his bag off the floor.

He left Stiles' door open, and some minuscule part of me whispered to go after him, but then I blinked and thought about what he'd just done.

Silently, I lowered my hands and looked back at Stiles, stepping forward. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," He snapped, suddenly moving. He grabbed a fistful of papers that were scattered around his desk. "Just fine." He ground out, shoving books haphazardly into drawers and shaking his head.

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just reached down with shaking hands to pick his chair up. I almost dropped it again when I saw the back, quickly spinning it so it faced the light of the window before calling out Stiles' name.

He turned away from the mess and froze, and we both stared at the three deep gashes torn through the leather of his seat. Slowly, we looked back at each other.

"Well…" I murmured, looking back at the chair. "I guess that answers that question." Stiles nodded and I sighed. "He's the Wolverine." Stiles smacked my shoulder and I snickered. "Seriously though, what can we do now?"

orionastro: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! :) Derek will obviously be involved in this fic, but not romantically. There will be future interactions though, trust me there!

As always thank you for the continued support!

I would really appreciate some more reviews, so if you have the time and could leave a quick comment that would be fabulous! :)