We Were Soliders Once

by Dreamlessly17

They say you win some, you lose some. In the war against Heaven and Hell to stop the Apocolypse, the Winchesters won the war but lost a lot. Jameson and Dean must pick up the pieces of their lives and try to find their new normal. When picket fences can't hold them, they hit the road and find themselves entrenched in the crazy that is Beacon Hills.

3. Fast Times at Beacon Hills High

Chapter Two: Fast Times at Beacon Hills High

AN: Here's another exciting chapter in We Were Soldiers Once, my AU story of my Carry On Series. As This has been rattling around in my mind for a while and it's nice to get it typed up. This chapter will follow the first episode of Season 1. Enjoy!

~Carry On~

Tuesday, January 5th

Jameson's Perspective:

"I ain't going." I repeated for the 10th time. I hated school, so I've been shooting this plan down since we left the Sheriff's department. I did not budge even a little. Not in the Beacon Hills principal's office, not when Dean supplied me with tacos, or even when let me have first dibs on our motel room's shower.

"Come on Jameson, take one for the team." Dean tried again, "Dad had me do the same thing on a couple of hunts, cozying up to the sheriff's kids can lead to a break in a case.

"Great so Dad was the OG pimp." I huffed falling back on the bed.

"For the last time, I'm not pimping you out." Dean growled, "If I even catch wind of you taking of yo-your clothes for him I'll…I'll.."

"I get it, I get it." I try to calm him down, he sounded like a vein was about to burst, "But I don't see why I have to go to school. I'm sure there is a local hot spot around here that all the kids go to. You know like The Max in Saved by the Bell. I could be that mysterious new girl who comes out of nowhere and drops super deep advice."

"Or you could go to school. The kid listens to all of his Dad's official calls, he even went out searching for that Hale girl's body the other night. If you become his friend, you could be the first person he calls after getting the details and then you can go traipsing through the woods after a body. Besides, you are already signed up, so you're going."

"Yeah, how did you get all of that paperwork so fast?" I asked.

"Bobby. He updates your records every few months for any grade level we might need you to get in. Luckily, this time it was only a sophomore. I mean that's how far with you were with S-Sam's homeschool, right?"

"I was in an awkward stage between 9th and 10th grade."

"Well it's not too much of stretch and we'll be here a week, tops."

"Fine, but how am I supposed to find this kid?" I finally concede, "All you have given me is a last name- Stilinski. It's not like everyone is going to call each other by their last names in a town like this."

"They might if they're on a sports team."

I sit up on the bed suddenly intrigued.

"Explain."

"I saw the kid wearing a jersey in one of the pictures the Sheriff had."

"So, he's a jock?" I asked standing up, this was starting to sound better, "You should have started off with that, I can definitely work with a jock."

"What's so great about him being a jock?" Dean asked as I walked over to my duffle to get my shower things and bed clothes. I didn't say anything just looked over my shoulder and lifted my eyebrows suggestively. I saw that vein in Dean's head start to grow, and he puffed up for another warning.

"I mean it young lady, if I catch-."

"I get it, I get it," I repeat, before smiling wickedly at him, "You know you keep saying not to take my clothes off for him, but funny how you've never said anything about him taking my clothes off."

Dean's face turned a deep red as he sputtered to find words to address the situation. I shrugged and grabbed my things and slipped into the bathroom.

"Shit!" I heard Dean curse once the door was closed.

With another shrug, I turned on the shower and undressed. I waited until the water was hot before ducking under the spray. I really needed to wash today away. Even the good parts, like my taco smelling fingers.

~Carry On~

Wednesday, January 6th

"Rise and shine, baby girl!" Dean exclaimed loudly as he shook me awake. I shot my arms out whacked his arms away, and then pulled the blankets over my head.

"Go away, you freak!" I said, my voice muffled by the blankets.

"No can do, it's my little sister's first day off school," he replied, before ripping the blankets off me. I hiss at the alarming amount of sunshine in my eyes, "Get a grip."

I scowl at him and check the clock. It said 5:45 in right red letters.

"What the hell Dean?" I yell at him, "School doesn't start until 7:30."

"Yeah, well I got you breakfast," he said jerking his thumb over his shoulder, "And thanks to your comment last night, I didn't sleep a wink. Luckily, Wal-Mart is open 24 hours here. So, I got you a backpack."

He held up a plain black Jan-Sport backpack.

"And 7 notebooks with folders, pens, pencils, and erasers," he continued, "I didn't know what else you would need, so I went with the basics. I also bought you some clothes."

I followed his finger to the hangers perched precariously on the top of the bathroom door. There rested two items, I would not have chosen for myself, a t-shirt that said Jesus Saves across the chest and a pair of baggy jeans.

"You have got to be kidding me?"

"What? I thought I did a good job?"

"I thought you wanted me to make friends with the guy, not covert him into my Jesus group."

"Yes, but it ensures no clothes will be taken off by you or him."

I roll my eyes and swing my legs off the bed. I get up and make my way to my duffle bag. I dig through it and pull out simple V-neck olive green shirt and a pair of jeans that had holes around the knees. I turn and show Dean the items.

"There are you happy? Nothing will happen in these clothes either, and I won't have to dress like a modern-day nun."

"Isn't that a V-neck?

"Oh my God, Dean."

"What? You're the one who put these ideas in my head."

I rolled my eyes in frustration.

"You're the one pimping me out for information."

Dean began rubbing his temples.

"Fine, wear whatever the hell you want. Just enough with this pimping you out crap."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Good."

"Ugh, just get dressed. Your breakfast will get cold."

I fought the urge to give him the middle finger by digging around for my bra and a pair of socks out of my duffle. I shot Dean another angry look before stomping off into the bathroom. If it wasn't for the fact that I could smell bacon I would have stayed in the bathroom until it was time to go, just to piss him off.

I pulled the old shirt of Dean's I wear to bed over my head and tossed it to the side of the counter. I unfolded the pair of jeans and stuffed my legs in and zipped up. I then turned around so I could close the toilet lid and sat on top of it in order to adjust my pant leg and put on my socks. They were novelty socks I picked up at a dollar store that had little smiling tacos on them. I wiggle my socked feet, not even trying to fight the smile that I grew on my face at the sight of the cartoon food.

Hopping off, I turn to the sink and unzipped my toiletry bag and grabbed my deodorant. I lifted my arms and spread some on before clipping on my bra. I pulled the shirt over my head, pull the back so the V-neck doesn't appear too low-cut for Mr. Sensitive. I then sprayed the generic vanilla body spray in all the appropriate areas and brushed my hair out.

As I put everything bag into my toiletry bag, I noticed a brown pencil rattling around at the bottom. It was an impulse buy…okay an impulse steal, from a time when I wondered what it was like to wear make-up. I watched YouTube videos to see how to put it on, and after a lot of trial and error-more than I'm willing to admit-I learned to put it on right. However, everyone made such a big deal about it, I never put it on again.

I looked at myself in the mirror, while the shirt did make my green eyes stand out more, the different shades clashed. And I did need to make an impression…Eff it. I took the pencil and drew the liner along the bottom eyelashes. It took a few tries to get it right, but I finally made both sides look even. I tossed the pencil back and the bag and gathered up my bed-shirt and left the bathroom before I could rethink my decision.

Dean was already at the small dinette table under the window shoveling his portion of food in his mouth. I dropped off my shirt in my bag and made my way over to him.

"What took you so long?" he asked as I say down across from him.

"The modest new girl look takes time to perfect."

"And you said I was the Beauty Queen," He teased looking up at me, his face immediately turned confused, "Are you wearing make-up?"

"Just eyeliner," I quickly downplayed it, looking down to open the Styrofoam take-out box in front of me. Inside was two waffles, bacon, and 3 syrup packets.

"I told you to drop the pimping out crap." Dean said, not one to be deterred.

"It's just eyeliner, Dean." I repeated, "Would you not make a big deal about it?"

He narrowed his eyes at me thoughtfully, but then shrugs and returns to his food. I let out a breath in relief and grabbed a piece of bacon. I had eaten most of them and was about to start on the waffles, when Dean spoke again.

"I was looking over your schedule last night," he started, "How lucky are you to have 1st period as an independent study?"

I grinned, that had made my day too.

"Yeah, at least I'll have time to the homework for the week that we're here. Would hate to ruin my perfect record."

Dean laughed and tried to steal the last of my bacon. I smacked his hand away and shoved the whole thing in my mouth. He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee.

"So, what are you going to be doing while I'm playing Susie High School?"

"Well, since Andy Taylor was a nice enough to give me a name, I'm going to follow up on this Laura Hale."

"You always get to do the fun stuff." I whined. Dean rolled his eyes again.

"Finish up here, kid. I'm going to go grab a paper."

I nodded as he stood up. He ruffled my hair and left the room. I poured all 3 syrup packets on my waffles and used my fork to spread it around more. I took my knife and cut into them to get a piece and took a bite. As far as brothers go, Dean isn't that bad, even if he is a little crazy. At least he knows how to pick a place with banging waffles.

~Carry On~

We made it to the school about 7:20. Dean walked me into the office, I guess he was called in to fill out some additional paperwork. In the end it turned out to be a lot of additional paperwork, things like a medical form for the nurse's office, text alerts for weather delays or closing, and parent/guardian permission slip to access my grades. He made the joke about how I wouldn't be able to hide anything because Big Brother was watching. I then told him he signed his name Dean Winchester in all but two places and that he would never be able to get away with anything because Little Sister was always watching, and she has a long memory. Dean was not amused, but he asked for new papers.

It took up most of what would have been my first period when he finally turned in his new papers all signed Dean Cole and tossed the old ones in the nearby trash. After that he was free to leave, while I had to wait for the vice principal, Mr. Hackett, under the watchful eye of the secretary because Dean made a comment that I would escape if I could. He left with a salute to me and a wink to the secretary. Did he seriously have to flirt with everyone? God, it so embarrassing.

"Ms. Cole," a deep voice said. I shot my head up and saw a late-20 something black man standing across from me. He was of middling height, with a very defined haircut-clean edges and all. He wore a cleanly pressed beige suit, which told me a few things he was no nonsense type who valued appearance. Not a man to cross on your first day or you would spend time reading all the rules in the handbook until your memorized them.

"Yes, sir." I said rising out of the chair to shake his extended hand.

"Welcome to Beacon Hills High," he said pulling his hand back, "I'm sure you will be a welcomed addition to our student population."

I just smiled, because I knew I would cause him to regret that statement at some point.

"If you will follow me, I will take you to your second period class."

"Sure," I said, slipping back into the dark brown leather jacket I had grabbed this morning. Mr. Hackett smiled and led the way through the office and down the many halls of Beacon Hills High. I had hoped to spend 1st period getting my bearings, but I guess I would have to content myself with the map I was given. It didn't go me any good, I was already mentally lost. This guy, however, turned like he was on autopilot, which meant there was pattern to the layout that could easily be learned.

"I think you will really enjoy your English class. Mr. Keller is an excellent teacher and students perform well under his methods."

"Great."

Mr. Hackett looked over his shoulder, like he could sense the layer of apathy I felt under the enthusiastic tone. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, and I sent him my most innocent smile. His eyes softened, and he turned to his right to open a door. He motioned for me to go through and the very second my foot stepped over the threshold all eyes were on me.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Keller," He apologized to the teacher before addressing the class, "Class, this is our student, Jameson Cole. I'm sure you will all do your best to make her feel welcome."

Are you kidding me? What are we five? Luckily, Mr. Hackett couldn't read my mind and left after a nod to the teacher.

"Another new student," he said sarcastically, "how wonderful."

I gave him a look that clearly spoke of my surprise at a teacher saying that out loud. He looked just as startled at my audacity to non-verbally call him out on it, but then seemed to shake himself out of it.

"Ms. Cole, if you would please take a seat beside Mr. Lahey there," He said and then I gave him another look since he didn't point out my new desk friend. The teacher sighed, "Mr. Lahey, could you raise your hand."

A curly haired brunette in the back of the class raised his hand.

"Yes, thank-you Mr. Lahey. As I said Ms. Cole, if you could take a seat by Mr. Lahey, I will find a book for you to use today."

I give a loose salute and scooted between the desk to the one pointed out to me. I took a seat next to the boy that Mr. Keller had pointed out.

"Hey," I greeted him a soft smile. He nodded but wouldn't meet my eye. I frowned at his behavior, recognizing it, yet before I could put a name to it Mr. Keller spoke again.

"Ms. Cole, it seems I have no more books, you will have to share with Mr. Lahey today," he instructed, "But please stop by here at the end of the day, I will see if another teacher has a copy."

"Yes, sir." I replied. He seemed pleased by the respectful reply.

"Mr. Lahey scoot your desk closer to Ms. Cole, so she can see the book."

Lahey nodded. We both stood up at the same time to move the desk, but the boy stopped short when he saw me do it.

"What?" I asked. He shook his head and lifted his desk next to mine. I frowned again and sat down in my seat. My desk mate opened his book and put it between us.

"Now class, we will be reading through chapters 3&4 today of Kafka's The Metamorphosis," the teacher began the class time, "Mr… Mr. Stilinski, why don't you start us off."

Stilinski

My head shot up so fast that I caused my desk partner to jump. I ignored his questioning gaze and peered around a person diagonally from me-some brunette with doll like features-to look at the boy in question. The first thing I noticed was his bouncing leg, that never stopped not once as he read the words on the page. It was like it helped him concentrate or something.

Once I got past the movement, I was able to take in the features of my target. His legs were long and for some reason I got the image of a baby deer taking his first steps. I had the feeling he tripped over himself a lot, but then again, he was a jock so maybe he did have full control. His clothes were fairly simple- brand-name shoes, old jeans, and a t-shirt. He had a blue sweatshirt over his shirt, and the ends of the pull strings were frayed like he chewed on them. I made my way up from freckled neck to his face-with his defined jawline, light-tan skin, and dark brown hair.

Adorkable.

My eyes immediately drop down to my desk as the word registers. I shake away the thought and look towards the book in front of me. I didn't read along though; I was trying to refocus. Okay, he's a teenage boy, a sophomore, on some kind of team, probably has type hyper-active disorder, a bit nerdy, and most likely easily manipulated by a pretty face. Bad for him, but good for me.

The rest of the class was pretty standard, after reading the chapters we had to answer questions with a partner. My partner did his share all without looking at me once. It was impressive. There was something I recognized about his behavior, but it was like my brain didn't want me to name it.

When the bell rang, everyone jumped into action. There was scrapping, banging, stuffing things in bags, and lots of shuffling. Lahey was up moving our desks before I could even attempt to help him. He goes to leave, but I grab his arm to stop him. He flinches at the contact, and my hand recoils from him.

"Sorry," I apologize looking down at the floor, "I just wanted to thank-you for sharing your book."

"Oh…you're welcome."

I smiled and then grabbed my bag from the back of my chair.

"I'll see you…" I started to say, but when I looked up the kid was gone. Geez, talk about ghosting a girl. I didn't even get his first name. I shrugged and made my way out into the hall. I pulled the map I was given out of side water bottle pocket. My next class was history, and that was in the D-wing, wherever the heck that was.

I look around to get my bearings, when I spot the Stilinski kid across the hall with another boy. What's that saying about two birds and one stone? I took a deep breath and school my features into the little innocent new girl I was supposed to be.

"Excuse me," I said interrupting their conversation, both boys turn to me with equally surprised expressions, "Stilinski, right?"

He looks at his friend in a panic who returns his look of panic with a "what the hell are you doing" look. He hits Stilinski in the stomach to get him to do something. I bite my bottom lip trying to hide my smile.

"Y-yeah, yeah, I'm Stilinski. Stilinski that me- Stiles Stilinski, why can't I stop talking?" He asks his friend, causing me to chuckle.

"Jameson," I said, still laughing a bit.

"Stiles…but I just said that."

Really? He wasn't doing a bit, people actually called him Stiles?

"And I'm Scott," his friend introduced himself, trying to take some of spotlight off his friend.

"It's nice to meet you both," I say to Scott, before turning my attention to Stiles, "I was hoping you could help me, I'm supposed to go to history next in the D-Wing, but I have like zero sense of direction. Could you show me where it is?"

"Uhh..." he sputters looking towards Scott again. Scott urges him to say something, "Uhh…yeah, I can show you."

"Great," I said giving him the full-on charming Winchester smile. He smiles back goofily, and Scott hits him again.

"Oh, right, it's this way," he said starting off down the hall. I shook my head and turned to his friend.

"Thanks," I mouthed to him, because frankly without him we would still be stuck at Stiles' name. Scott grinned in reply. I saluted him and went to catch up with Stiles. He hadn't gotten far, and despite his longer legs it was easy to keep alongside of him, "So, what's the buzz on Beacon Hills High? I've been homeschooled the last few years, so I plan on going a little wild. What's the school sport-football, baseball, soccer?"

"No, it's lacrosse," Stiles told me.

"Really?" I asked, trying to sound excited.

"Yeah, I'm actually on the team."

"That's so cool," I said touching his arm. I read the magazine at the Sheriff's station that physical contact is very important when you are trying to get a guy interested in you, "Then you are the best person to tell me about it. I've never seen a game; how do you play?"

Stiles' eyes lit up at the question and he launched into an in-depth history of the sport before explaining the rules of the game. Oddly enough, I didn't find myself bored once.

~Carry On~

Stiles' Perspective:

I was in the middle of strapping on my pads when my phone started to buzz. I paused in the middle of tightening my knee pad to pick up the phone. The email notification flashed on my screen. I quickly unlocked my phone and saw that the email was from my father's account.

He had left his work email up on the computer a few weeks ago, and the temptation had been too great. I went under Settings and had all of his email forwarded to my email. Yeah, it could get me grounded for life, but it could also get me sweet details like this-the lab reports from the CSI lab in LA.

I scanned the email right passed some important information. I stop and backtrack up the email.

Animal hair found on the body identify as canis lupus.

"Canis Lupus." I whispered, trying to figure out where I knew that term, then it hit me, "Wolf."

I quickly gathered my things and slammed my locker closed.

"Scott!" I yelled as I ran out of the locker room, "Scott!

I didn't see him as I came bursting out of the locker room onto the lawn. He must already be at the field. I ran awkwardly under all the weight of my gear. As I come around the bleachers, I see the back of his head. I drop all my gear, and sprint over to him.

"Scott!" I called out, but he doesn't stop, "Scott, wait up!"

I crash into him, nearly knocking us both down but Scott manages to steady us.

"Stiles," he says a bit annoyed, "I'm playing in the first elimination man, can it wait?"

"Just hold on, okay?" I tell him, stopping him from going on to the field, "I just got an email on my phone from my dad's office. The fiber analysis came back from the lab in LA. They found animal hair on the half of the body they found in the woods."

"Stiles, I gotta go." He said freeing himself from my grasp.

"Scott, wait no!" I yell trying to grab him, only to trip over his bag, "You're not going to believe what the animal was. It was a wolf."

But he was too far away to hear me.

"What was a wolf?" A raspy voice asked. I quickly spun on my heel, nearly losing my balance in front of the girl I had continuously embarrassed myself in front of today.

"Jameson!" I exclaimed. She titled her head up and smiled. So pretty. What? Get it together, Stiles.

"Hey," she greeted, regaining my attention,"I thought I come and check you out … I mean the team, check the team out."

"Oh, thanks," I said, scratching the back of my neck. I could feel my cheeks heating up, "But it really will be the team, I don't play much."

"Well, it's a new year, anything can happen," she replied, "So what's this about a wolf? Are you and Scott nature enthusiast or something?"

"Ah no," I said trying to come up with a lie, "It's for science class…extra credit."

"Oh," she replied, before looking at the field behind me, "So what's going on today?"

"We're still doing eliminations for 1st and 2nd line."

"Cool. So, I think I remember most of what you said, but is it okay if I sit with you just in case, I have any questions?"

Me. Her. Sit. She wanted to sit with me?

"Uhh…I actually have to be on the field for this drill."

"Oh," she said sounding disappointed, "duh."

"But I'll come find you later?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Well…I better get my stuff."

"Yeah," she replied, and I started to walk back to where I had dropped my bag, "And Stiles?"

I stop and look over my shoulder.

"I'll be rooting for you."

I nodded, not trusting myself not to say something embarrassing. I could feel my cheeks reddening and I quickly ducked my head.

"Get it together, Stiles." I whispered to myself. I grabbed my bags and walked back to the bench. I pulled out my helmet and my stick and ran out onto the field where my teammates were gathered.

"You got a question, McCall?" I heard Coach say as I came upon the group.

"What?" Scott asked.

"You raised your hand. You have a question?"

"Oh, no. I was just…uh, Nothing. Sorry."

"Okay. You know how this goes. If you don't make the cut, you're most likely sitting on the bench for the rest of the season," Coach said as he went around to half circle formed around him, "You make the cut, you play. Your parents are proud. Your girlfriend loves ya. Huh? Everything else is cream cheese. Now get out there and show me what you got! Come on!"

"Let's go!" Jackson yells riling up the crowd, and soon the whole team is shouting it. Coach blows the whistle, and everybody starts splitting up into two teams. Me and five other guys got pushed out of the 1st drill because the teams would be uneven. As I sit down on the bench, I scan the crowd for Jameson and find her leaning against the bleachers. As if feeling my eyes on her, she looks right at me. She smiles and waves, and for some reason I motion her over.

She pushes herself off the bleachers and walks over. She comes up behind me and to the left and rests her palms on the back of the bleachers.

"No offense," she starts off, "but your coach seems a bit weird."

I snort.

"What are they doing now?"

"Eliminations." I answered, "We'll play ten on ten in 3 set of drills so the coach can determine who will play and who sits on the bench."

"Your friend Scott, he any good?"

"Well…lately he's been a lot better."

"Is that your way of saying he stunk and is starting to improve?"

"Yes."

She laughed. Coach blows his whistle twice to start the first elimination round, bring both of our attention to the field. The game starts off with Scott's team getting the ball, however, the other side has the better blockers, so it ends up being a passing game until it's thrown into pocket of Scott's lacrosse stick.

"Whoo!" Jameson cheers clapping her hands, but it was a bit premature. He only goes a few steps when Jackson knocks him on his ass, "Ooohhh…That's got to hurt."

"Ohhh…yeah." I agreed. Coach whistles again for the teams to take their start positions. I watch as a suicidal Scott moves to face off with Jackson. What they hell is he doing?

The whistle signals the start and Scott scoops the fall up before Jackson even has time to move. Scott races down the field spinning or jumping out of the way of the midfielders. The three defenders come up to take him, and Scott just does a flip right over their heads. He tosses the ball right pass the goalie into the net

"Whoa!" I hear Jameson exclaim, "If this is him starting to improve, what's your definition of stinking?"

"Yeah," I laughed awkwardly. Something was seriously up with Scott. I mean he should be passed on the ground now struggling to breath because of his asthma. And when did he learn to move so fast or jump that high? He's been really weird ever since that night in the woods when he said he got bit by…a wolf. Pffftttt…tha-that would be ridiculous. Wouldn't it?

"You're starting, buddy," Coach proclaimed, "You made first line. Come on!"

A loud cheer comes from the field, as the other starters come up and congratulate Scott. I should to, but something…I mean it's ridiculous…right?

~Carry On~

Dean's Perspective:

Laura Hale turned out to be an easy name to dig up. Her last name was tied to one of the deadliest fires in this town's history. According to the local paper, the Hale family all lived in this house on the outside of town, practically in the Preserve that circled most of the town line. One night the whole house lights up, killing most of the family, and now there are only 3 known survivors. Derek Hale, who records showed to be in New York, Peter Hale, a vegetable in a nursing facility attached the hospital, and one Laura Hale, currently half an ice-block on a M.E.'s tray. And like the fire, they had no real suspects for this murder either.

It was still too early to tell if this was Jamie and me's kind of thing, but I was liking it. Multiple Hale family units in one home, a mysterious fire, and a severed body definitely had a supernatural vendetta vibe.

After pulling all the research I could on the family from the local library and county records, I made my way to the remains of the Hale House. I had planned on picking up Jameson first, but she texted to say she was staying later at school. Something about finding an in with the Sheriff's kid. I really hoped that was not an inuendo.

I gave a long whistle as I saw the Hale House in the distance. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie. It was still dark as the remaining black soot left no indication of the original colors of the outside. The back half of the house was like a house skeleton. That must be where the fire started.

I drove around the house to the back. It seemed like a good place to search for marks or at least get idea of what happened that night. I parked the car and dug the EMF reader out of the glove compartment. I turn it on and get of the car to get closer to the house.

I flicked the sliding button up to turn on the EMF reader, and walk along the remains of the back of the house. The reader made small blips. If the house was haunted, the ghosts were too weak to make their presence known or it was just residual readings of the event that take place. Sometimes when some really bad crap goes down somewhere, a leftover evil energy just lingers. After seeing the extent of the fire, I'm leaning towards that more than ghosts.

I was about to turn the corner to walk along the side of the house, when I felt someone watching me. I looked out of the corner of eye as I walked, to try and catch a glimpse of the person or whatever was out there. I didn't see anyone, but the hair on the back of my neck were still standing up.

In order not to give it away that I knew I was being watched, I kept scanning for a few more moments. I then acted out that I was wrapping up and turned off the EMF reader. I turned around and start to walk back to the car. I go to put the reader in my back pocket to be closer to my gun when I hear the snap of a tree branch. I whip my head towards the sound and see a guy in all black coming around the corner.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded. He squared himself up, like he was ready to fight. I held my hands up to show I meant no harm.

"I'm with the county," I lied, walking towards him "The time the Hale family has to reclaim the property is almost up. I'm just running a few tests."

"I am a Hale." He said, "And I'm reclaiming the property."

"Well, all right then. I'll let my boss know." I told him, patting him on the shoulder as I passed by. "Have a good day, Pal."

Update to notes, Laura Hale-currently half a stiff, Peter Hale-currently a vegetable, and Derek Hale-currently alive and in Beacon Hills. Maybe to find out what happened to his sister or to cover up his own tracks.

I got back to the car and heading off the property. It was probably time to pick-up Jamie anyway. And she got pissy if she had to walk anywhere. I turn out off the long driveway onto the main highway and my phone starts going off.

I grab it off the passenger seat and flip it open, 16 messages from Jamie. One, practice is over, 3, sarcastic hellos, two missed calls, multiple pick-up your damn phone, and one, why do you even have a phone. The 16th message from her:

Jamie: Nvrmd, caught a ride with Stiles.

"What the hell is a Stiles?"

~Carry On~

Stiles' Perspective:

The idea that something was up with Scott stuck with me for the rest of eliminations. It got me pretty distracted and I was quickly regulated to be a benchwarmer during my elimination drill. Jameson made the comment that I shouldn't get too down, girls are usually just after the uniform anyway. She then of course winked, and I spent the next 20 minutes obsessing over what that all meant.

As practice wrapped up, all the players headed into the locker room to clean up. Scott was in and out before I could talk to him, still riding high on his promotion. I figured I'd give him the night before I started poking and prodding him like some lab experiment.

I finished getting dressed and came out to the parking lot where my Jeep was parked. I was just about to get in, when I noticed Jameson sitting out on the curb. I closed the Jeep door and walked towards her.

"Hey," I said announcing my presence. She looked up with an annoyed expression on her face until she saw it was me. A smile broke through her irritated look, but I could still see the tension.

"Hey," she said back.

"Are you waiting on somebody?" I asked. The irritated look came back in full force.

"My brother," she said, sounding a bit lost, "He told me to call him when I was done, but I've called and texted like 10 times and he hasn't picked up."

She glared at her phone as if her brother could feel her burning gaze through it. But underneath the anger, she seemed lost. It's probably what prompted me to put myself in another potentially embarrassing situation.

"I could take you home."

"Really?" She asked looking up hopefully.

"Sure," I said with a shrug. She jumps up and wraps her arms around me. The force of her attack nearly knocking me off my feet.

"Thank-you."

I can feel the panic starting to set it, what do I do? Do I hug back? Do I pull away first? She ends up making the decision for me, by pulling away and taking a few steps back.

"Sorry, it's just that I'm starving," She hastily apologized, push a strand of hair behind her ear, "and you may be my quickest ticket to burgers."

"I get that," I said, before nodding towards my Jeep, "My Jeep is over there."

She nodded and grabbed her bookbag off the sidewalk. I wait for her and then lead her to my car.

"Nice wheels," Jameson compliments as we come up on my Jeep, "Early 1980s CJ-5, right?"

My head whips towards her. Cute blonde girl, say what?

"What?" she asked, "Since I am girl, I can't know cars?"

My cheeks immediately heat up and I scratch the back of my neck nervously. Great, we haven't even got in the car, and I'm embarrassing myself in front of her.

"Uh…sorry?"

Jameson rolls her eyes and rounds the back of the Jeep. I take a few deep breaths while she's out of sight, before climbing in the front seat. She got in wordlessly and I got the impression that I had about 30 more seconds to defuse this bomb before things got really bad.

"Nobody gets the year right; they all think it's a piece of crap Jeep from the 90s." I told her. I feel the wind off her hair as she whips her heads toward me.

"Well then everyone else is a moron, this model is like the cockroach of Jeeps. This thing will outlive anything made today, let alone from the 90s."

"Thank-you!" I exclaimed hitting the steering wheel. Finally! Someone gets it. "You know how many accidents this thing has driven away from?"

She looked me up and down as she folded her mouth in like she was trying to hide a smile.

"That's not funny." I told her as I turned on the engine. She snickered softly. It wasn't until we pulled out of the school, that I started conversation back up, "So where am I going?

"Oh! Yeah, the motel on Lincoln. Do you know where it is?"

I nodded my head.

"Are you guys still looking for a place?"

"Not really, my brother is a freelance reporter and he's got a series of jobs lined up in this area. We only came to Beacon Hills for his current story."

"What's he working on?"

"He's doing freelance for some nature magazine, something about the 10 best preserves and state parks to bring your family to, but then he came across the homicide in yours. So, he decided that Beacon Hills would be a good base of operations for a while."

"Oh," I said getting nervous again, "How did he make that decision, aren't homicides usually a turn off for tourists?"

"Yes, but not for my brother and me. He's hoping that covering a serious story will get him a permanent position somewhere and I am bit of Nancy Drew myself. I did a ton of research on your town last night; you guys have a lot of mysterious shit go down. Like that Hale fire, something did not set right with me about the investigation's conclusion. Too many loose ends. And now that girl cut in half, that is grade-A serial killer behavior."

The look on my face must have given away something, 'cause she immediately closed up.

"Sorry, I blame CSI."

"My Dad's the Sheriff, I like listening on his official calls."

An amused smirk stretched across her face.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to be best friends?"

I gulped.

~Carry On~

Jameson's Perspective:

After Stiles dropped me off at the motel, I stopped there along enough to stow my stuff and write a note that simply said: Out. I locked up and began exploring the town. Luckily, we were only a few blocks over from the main strip of the downtown area.

I wandered in and out of clothing stores, a bookstore, and new age shop that sold herbs Dean and I were low on. It was in the bookstore when the incessant buzzing began, but I ignored it even when it was beginning to bother some of the nearby patrons. If he's allowed to not answer texts and calls, then so am I.

After I left the new age store, I headed towards the diner I had seen a couple blocks back. I was feeling like a burger and a milkshake. My destination was just in sight, when I heard the familiar rumbling of an engine. I ducked my head and walked a bit faster, even when I felt the car come alongside me.

"Jameson!" he called out. I almost stopped, he sounded like he was just teetering on the edge of 6 and 7 on the "How Mad Am I At Jameson" scale. Unfortunately for him, I was also somewhere between a 6 and 7 on the "How Mad Am I At Dean" scale. "Jameson Annabelle Winchester!"

"What!" I screamed at him, whirling around on my heel.

"Get in the damn car now." he ordered, pulling the car up to me. I huffed before jerking the door the back door open, and sliding in.

"Why the hell didn't you answer you phone?"

"Why didn't you?" I threw back at him, crossing my arms and falling back against the seat. I turned to the side, refusing to look at him. I could feel pinpricking sting of tears in the corners of my eyes. Why didn't he answer his phone? He can't just not answer his phones, not after what has happened.

I used the back of hand to wipe under my eye, and I heard Dean sigh.

"I'm sorry, alright?" he said. "I was in a dead zone, and by the time I got your texts, you had already gotten a ride with whatever the hell a Stiles is."

"It's a who, actually." I said with a sniff, "The Sheriff's son."

"Seriously? Stiles Stilinski?"

I shrugged, still not looking at him.

"Uh… nice work," Dean complimented gruffly. I hear him shifting gears, but then he shifts back into Park.

"Look I get why you are upset, but that does not give you the right to ignore my calls. Okay? We're… we're all that's left, let's not lose that. You hear me?"

I turn to him, and nod.

"Good." He said, and put the car into drive, "Now, how to burgers sound?"

I let a sniffle again before smiling at him.

"You buying?"

~Carry On~

Thursday, January 7th

Stiles' Perspective:

After morning practice, I headed to the library to do some research. As much as I had tried to turn off the whole werewolf thing, it just didn't work. I mean it was crazy, but it was also the only thing that made sense about what was going on with Scott.

I snagged a computer far from everyone else and pulled up an incognito browser. I leaned away from the screen to check one more time for people, and when I saw no one was taking much notice of me, I typed in the word that sealed my craziness-Werewolf.

My deep dive led me to Lycan the first werewolf, aconite, and discussion boards about the accuracy of the silver myth. It was a lot of information and not all the sources agreed on everything. However, they did all agree on how lycanthropy exhibited itself. First, the subject is bitten. If the subject survives the bite, the effects are almost immediate-super strengths, agility, confidence, etc. All things that Scott just came in to.

"Whatcha doing?" a girl's voice asked, causing me to jump and fall out of my chair.

"Geezus!" I exclaim, "What the hhhee-hhhi!"

"Sorry about that," Jameson apologized offering me her hand.

"Umm…yeah, it's okay." I said letting her help me up.

"You're sweet, but I know that is a bunch of bull," she said, smoothing some crinkles in my sweatshirt, "How about I make it up to you by buying you lunch?"

"Sure." I replied, not trusting myself to say more while she was still straightening out my sweatshirt.

"So, what are you looking at?" she asked again, leaning around me to see the screen, "Werewolves?"

Her eyebrow was arched, silently asking for a reasonable explanation.

"Well, you see umm…, I'm part of an online roleplaying community and my character is a werewolf."

"Oh, cool." She said believing my sort of lie, "You should know that the site is full of shit, though."

"What?"

"Yeah, the Hellhound guys, they're absolute jackasses. Most of their research comes from pop culture. If you want the real thing…" she paused to dig around her bookbag to pull out an old looking book, "you want something like this. The older the better, it means they are from a time closer to where the werewolf stories began emerging."

I took the book from her hands and began tentatively flipping through the book. It contained old drawings of werewolves in the various stages of transformation. I skimmed through some of the text and saw things like "wolfsbane is used to subdue werewolves and prevent their transformation," "not all werewolf lines are limited to full-moon transformations," "a bitten werewolf, like their purebred counterparts, will experience heightened senses and emotions, increased speed and agility, and superhuman strength."

Check. Check. And Check.

"How accurate would you say this is?" I asked Jameson, still flipping through pages.

"About as accurate as you can get about a fictional creature." She said, sounding a bit amused. I looked up to see her smiling at me almost…. fondly?

"Oh yeah, that's what I meant. Uhh…do you mind if I borrow this? I think it will really help take my character to the next level."

"Sure," she agreed, before her face suddenly became very serious, "If you vow to protect that book with your life."

I leaned back from her a bit, there was a lot of intensity coming off her.

"Sorry," she said shaking her head, "That book is like a family heirloom, my brother will literally ground me for life if I don't bring that back in one piece."

"A book about werewolves is a family heirloom?"

"Yeah, great-great-great-great Grand Pappy Cole was a monster hunter back in the old country. I know it's super weird."

"That's…really cool actually." I replied. Like really cool. Who the heck is this girl? Hot, funny, into fantasy, and wants to talk to me. Me. I couldn't even get Lydia to look at me.

"Umm…thanks." Jameson said shyly, "We should probably get to History Class. Also, I come delivering a warning that Mr. Keller is NOT happy about you skipping English. Your pal Scott kind of sold you out."

"Great."

~Carry On~

Jameson's Perspective:

Stiles spent most of our history class pouring over the book I let him borrow. He wasn't taking any notes on it, so I was beginning to think his role-playing story was just that a story. Plus, his sudden interest in werewolves would explain his comment about wolf hair yesterday. And he is just nerdy enough to think that a werewolf could be involved in the death of the one Laura Hale. It's also near a full moon….

As soon as class let out, I rushed to the nearest exit, pulling out my phone as I went. I pushed "2" until Dean's number showed up.

"'Ello?" My brother answered.

"It's werewolves, Dean." I jumped right in.

"Whoa, slow down kid." Dean said, "How do you know?"

"Stiles, he's been investigating werewolves, and I overheard him yesterday saying something about a wolf hair and a lab."

"Didn't you just meet this kid yesterday? What makes him an expert?"

"Fair question, but it is near a full moon."

"Let me call Bobby and see what he knows about the area.

"Yeah and keep me posted." I said before hanging up.

~Carry On~

Stiles' Perspective:

As the day went on, I was more and more convinced that Scott had been bitten by a werewolf. It all made sense-his increase agility, heightened senses, mood swings paired with the hair found on Laura Hale had to mean werewolf. Realizing how crazy that sounded even for me, I told Scott to meet me at my house after he got off work. I needed someplace where we wouldn't be overheard.

I continued to flip through the book Jameson let me borrow at my desk, as I waited for him to show up. I must have lost track of time because the next thing I know someone is knocking on my door, causing me to jump. Scott. Or was it the werewolves? Did they know that I knew?

Taking a deep breath, I went over and opened the door. I sighed in relief when I saw it was just Scott.

"Get in." I said, "I have been at this all day. Most of it was all horror movie lore, until I got this book from Jameson."

"Jameson?" Scott asked as he sat down on my bed, "Did you actually get out a full sentence this time?"

"Yes, we actually sat tog—wait, that's not the point!" I said taking a seat across from him at my desk.

"Is this about the body?" He asked trying to hide his amusement about Jameson, "Did they find out who did it?"

"No, they are still looking at people. Even at Derek Hale."

"Oh, yeah. The guy we saw in the woods yesterday."

"Yeah! Yeah, But that's not it, okay?"

"What, then?"

"Remember the joke the other day? Not a joke anymore."

Scott gave me a weird look.

"The wolf-the bite in the woods." I explained shuffling through my research on wolves, getting more agitated by how incredibly slow he was being. "I started doing all of this research, I mean do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?"

"It's a signal, okay? When a lone wolf howls it signals its location to the rest of the pack. So, if you heard a wolf howling, maybe there were more nearby. Like a whole pack of them."

"A whole pack of wolves."

"No," I said in a mixture of exasperation and hesitation, "Werewolves."

"Are you seriously wasting my time with this?" Scott asked angrily. He got up and grabbed his bag.

"I saw you on the field yesterday, Scott." I said jumping in front of him, "Okay, what you did, wasn't just amazing, it was impossible."

"Yeah, so I made a good shot," he said moving around me. I stepped in front of him again.

"No. You made an incredible shot. I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. People can't just suddenly do that that overnight. Then there is the vision and the senses, and don't even think I haven't noticed that you suddenly don't need your inhaler every 2 seconds."

"Okay!" Scott shouted, "I just can't think of this right now. I have to meet Allison in like fifteen minutes to study. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"No, no. The full moon is tomorrow, Scott. We need to get a handle on it now."

"What are you trying to do?" Scott asked frustratedly, "I just made first line, I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"I'm trying to help. You're cursed, Scott." I said plopping down in my computer chair. "You know, and it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."

"Bloodlust?"

"Yeah, your urge to kill."

"I'm already starting to feel the urge to kill Stiles."

"You got to hear this," I told him, and I spun around to grab Jameson's book, "'The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.' All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel your study date, and you definitely need to cancel your date with her for tomorrow's party."

I get up and spin Scott around to get to his phone.

"I'm calling her. This is for your own good buddy."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm cancelling the date."

"Give it to me." Scott roared, and the next thing I know I up against a wall with Scott's fist inches away from my face. He roars again and turns to take his anger out on my computer chair instead. He begins panting really heavily and starts looking around at what he's done.

"I-I'm sorry." He says quietly, "I'm sorry. I got to meet Allison at the library."

He then picked up his things and headed to the door.

"I'm sorry," he said one more time before leaving. And as soon as he leaves, I let out a huge puff of air that I hadn't even known I was holding. Once my heart started to calm down, I went over and picked up the desk chair Scott had turned his anger on. I noticed something on the back of it, as I was setting it up, and turned it to face me. There were five deep gashes as if an animal or a were…. Okay, note to self, never confront a werewolf without knowing how to get one to calm down.

~Carry On~

Jameson's Perspective:

"Well?" I pounced on Dean, the moment he came through the door. I had not heard from him all day, and he couldn't pick me up, so I had to get another ride from Stiles, who was also rather quiet. It was super weird. However, he did just sort of find out that werewolves existed today, so…

When Stiles dropped me off at the motel, Dean wasn't there. Just a note that said:

Out. I'll be back with dinner-D

Honestly! The full moon was tomorrow. I have never seen something so irresponsible in my life. We needed to be on this. Due to this utter disregard for the moon cycle, I was forced to do my homework. However, the moment I heard a key turn the tumblers, I was up and ready.

"Whoa…I'm going to need you to back way up. And cut down your caffeine intake by like a thousand. "

"Not funny, Dean." I said backing up. He came through the door with a drink carrier and a brown bag that said Toby's Burgers. I gave him a moment to place the food on the table by the door, before trying again, "Well what did Bobby say?"

He pursed his lips the way he does when he has to deliver bad news.

"Sit down kid." He said sounding tired as he took a seat himself.

Immediately my spine snaps stick straight. And the last thing I want to do his sit down.

"No. What the hell is going on?"

He sighed.

"You were right, it is werewolves. Bobby said this place used to be a meeting place for the various packs in the west." He explained, "It's also…a popular hunting ground for the…"

"For what?" I asked, finally sinking down onto the bed.

"For who." He corrected, "The Argents."

~Flashback~

"The way the Argents talk I thought killing you werewolves would be harder. Are you even trying?"

"Die, Winchester." One of the werewolves said slashing at me. I managed to jump out of the way.

"Bite me." I mocked. The werewolf growled and decided to lung for me, I spun out of the way and stabbed him in the back. He hissed in pain and I managed to cut off his head while he tried to nurse his wounds.

"That makes 10 for me what about you Toby?" I asked over my shoulder. But I heard no response. "Toby?"

I turn around to see one of the werewolves lift Toby in the air, as Gerard Argent stood only a few feet away from him gun at the ready. But he wasn't firing.

"Shoot Argent, shoot!" I screamed. The werewolf turned to me and smirked. He then plunged his hands into my boyfriend's chest.

"TOBY!"

BANG!

~Flashback~

I flinched as I recalled the sound of gun firing, sending a bullet straight into my boyfriend's gut. Gerard Argent shot Toby just for being in the way. In COLD blood. If that grizzly old bastard was here, he was going to find that my blood was even colder.

~Carry On~

Friday, January 8th

Stiles' Perspective:

I tried reaching out to Scott before school to check in on him, but he ignored all 10 of my texts. He was also intent on not meeting my eye during morning practice or English. I wasn't sure if it was because he still wanted to kill me or felt guilty for trying.

"What's going on between you and your boyfriend?" A raspy voice asked me. I looked over to see that Jameson had claimed a seat next to me as the bell rang for third perios, "Did you guys have a fight or something?"

"Or something." I groused. Her mouth twisted into a wry smile.

"If you want, I can help you make him jealous. Have lunch with me?"

"Y-ye-yah."

"Great. And to really put him over the edge, you can tell me all about your online gaming community."

I found myself smirking darkly at her comment. "My online gaming community" project is exactly why Scott wasn't talking to me.

"Or…" she started, noticing my expression, "We could talk about the fact that I was invited to a party tonight by a very abrasive redhead because she liked my boots. And the fact, that I'm dateless?"

My cheeks started to warm-up. Was she implying what I think she was implying? Did she want me to ask her to the party? Me and her, going together. Dancing.

"I can go with you!" I said in a loud rush. Jameson smiled in amusement.

"I was hoping you would say that. Do you mind picking me up?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that."

"It's a date then."

"It's a date."

A date. A date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me and my best friend is trying to ruin it by not taking his werewolfness seriously.

~Carry On~

Jameson's Perspective:

Dean and I both agreed last night that I needed to insert myself more into Stiles' circle in order to gain access to his intel. Luck must have been on my side, because I was stopped in the hallway by the school's Queen Bee to be informed that I had good taste in boots and that I should like totally come to her party that night, everyone was going to be there. After that it was a cake walk to get Stiles to take me. It helped that he was on the outs with Scott and needed a rebound date.

Because I felt slightly bad about using him, I did eat lunch with him and listened to him complain about Scott. Though I thought it was super weird how he avoided saying directly what their issues were. He went ridiculously out of his way to not say it. However, I was able to gather that Scott was going through some changes, there was a girl, and Stiles wasn't sure how to handle it all. Quite frankly, having a best friend sounded exhausting. I got super lucky with Dean.

Once school let out, Dean was there for once to pick me up. And I told him the worst thing in the world.

"I need to go shopping. For a dress."

"What now?" He asked completely confused.

"I've been invited to a party. Like, everyone is going to be there." I said flipping my hair, mimicking the redheaded girl's voice "the dress is dressy casual."

"Did Stiles invite you?" He asked.

"No, the hostess did. She apparently liked my boots." I replied, "But I did invite Stiles."

"Like a date?"

"No, like we discussed last night. I found a way into his inner circle."

"Awesome." Dean huffed, shifting gears and pulling away from the school. He drives into town and parks in front of a second-hand store.

"You don't have to come in." I told him, "I know that this was more of Ss…"

"Sam's area?" he asked after I trailed off. I nodded. "You know in the early days it was my area. You were pret-ty fly for a nine-year old with your leather jacket and concert tees. Then all of the sudden you became a teenager and everything I picked out for you was wrong."

"Funny, the way I remembered it is that once the boobs popped out you stopped buying me concert tees and leather jackets and start buying me habits and other nunnery wear." I corrected.

"I've heard it both ways."

"Surrreee… you have, Dean." I rolled sarcastically, getting out of the car. He followed suit and we walked up to the front door together and went in.

"Where do we start?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, Dean, maybe under the sign that says dresses." I told him point at the sign on the wall nearby.

"Right. That's exactly what I would have expected."

I rolled my eyes and pushed him towards the racks of dresses. However, when we finally got to the dresses, I was suddenly less gung-ho about the whole thing. What was I thinking, getting a dress to go to a scene from a John Hughes movie? This was not me. And it really wasn't me, that I kind of, maybe, sort of, just a little, the tiniest bit wanted to look nice for Stiles. And there was totally not visions of me coming down a staircase as "Kiss Me" plays in the background and his jaw drops. Because that would be so unlike me.

"What about this one?" Dean asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turned to see him holding up an ugly looking orange long-sleeved dress. It looked like it was made out of crushed velvet.

"I would look like a pumpkin," I told him. He looked at it again and mumbled something in agreement. I shook my head and began shifting through the rack of dresses. I pulled out a plaid t-shirt looking dress and held it up against me. It had red and black lines and a belt that tried around the waist. I held it against my body and looked into the mirror at the end of the rack to see how it looked. While it looked like something, I would actually be comfortable wearing, I don't think it would help me blend tonight, no matter how cute my boots were.

"What about this purple dress?" Dean said coming up with a thin strapped dress with more crushed velvet in the chest area and then an ugly plastic looking purple shooting out of it.

"That's a prom dress, Dean." I explained, "Shouldn't you know that, considering you're the only one here who went to one. And what's with all of the crushed velvet?"

"Well, you see, I went to the prom in the 90s…"

"Did someone say 90s and prom?" A woman's voice asked cutting him off. Dean and I both turned to see a woman with a short beehive style hair, a multi-colored hippie style dress, wrapped in a purple shawl. Matching purple glass were perched on her nose as she looked at us expectantly. "Are you going to a theme party?"

"No," I said shaking my head, "I've been invited to a party with a fancy-casual dress code and my brother's tastes are firmly in the 90s."

"Nothing wrong with that," the woman said, "Those were good times-grunge, preppy, the return of bell-bottoms. But I see what you mean about his fashion sense. That's not your color at all and by the looks of it, made for someone two sizes smaller."

She took the dress from Dean and held as far away from her as possible. Like just seeing it disgusted her.

"How about we send big brother down the street for some coffee and I'll find you something more your color?"

I looked at Dean. And pursed his lips and shrugged.

"We'll call you when we're done." The woman said walking Dean out of the store, "She's in good hands. Buh-bye now."

Once Dean was gone, she made her way back to me.

"That boy has had me cringing ever since he picked out that orange dress. It's a good thing you didn't see the other dresses he was considering before he brought this thing over to you." She explained, causing me to snicker. "From now you come to me if you ever need to update your wardrobe."

"Will do."

"Now what do you have there?" she asked pointing to the dress I had in my hand. I held up the red-plaid dress I had been considering. "Heavens, he's already corrupted you! No matter, like I said, I will help you. My name's Ms. Ursula."

"Jameson."

"Well, Jameson, you are in safe hands now."

~Carry On~

Dean's Perspective:

30 minutes after I was kicked out of the second-hand store, I was called back by the crazy shop-owner who identified herself as Ms. Ursula. She had me sit in a chair in the back of the store where the changing area was. She was seated next to me practically giddy with excitement.

"Are you almost done in there, Jamie?" I called out, both tired and hungry.

"Hush you." Ms. Ursula snapped at me. I frowned at her. "Take your time dear."

"I'm almost done, just fixing my shoe." Jameson replied. There was beat, before she said, "Okay, now I'm ready."

"Wait a second, baby girl, let help with the dramatic reveal." Ms. Ursula said bustling over to the changing curtain, "Mr. Cole, I proudly present my labor of fashion, one Jameson Cole."

She pulled back the curtain and Jameson came out hesitantly. I unintentionally let out an impressed whistle as I looked at my little sister. She was wearing a dark green-90's styles long sleeved dress that ended just above her knee. Which typically would have annoyed me, but she had on black tights. Instead of heels she was wearing chunky sneakers, and a choker necklace was around her neck. While I thought the neckline showed off too much skin, I couldn't deny that she looked beautiful.

"Come now, give him a spin."

Jameson rolled her eyes and spun around, her skirt swirling with her.

"I though given your affinity for 90s style clothing that you would approve of the skater dress and accessories." Ms. Ursula explained, "I just made sure to find a color that works for her. So, what do you think, Mr. Cole?"

Both her and Jameson looked at me expectantly.

"You look good kid, you always do." I complimented her. Jameson looked up and smiled softly at me.

"Good answer," Ms. Ursula compliment, "Now let's fix your hair and make-up, sweetheart."

~Carry On~

Stiles' Perspective:

There were two things I knew for sure. One, my best friend was now one of the creatures of the night, wait that's vampires. One, my best friend was now one of the people of the wolf. Two, my palms were sweaty. Like really sweaty, and I couldn't make them stop. My palms have not been this sweaty since I asked Lydia Martin to dance with me at the 8th grade formal. They got worse after she rejected me, like she has every day ever since. Huh?

"Don't think about that, Stiles buddy." I told myself, as I got out of my Jeep, "You are going out with a great girl who if you think about it asked you out. This is good, things are starting to turn around. If things go well, all of those years of rejection will be a thing of the past. Lydia Martin, who? Yeah."

After my little pep-talk, I dried my hands off on my pants and knocked on the door of the Coles' motel room. The door opened revealing a tall, well built gentlemen who look like he had already figured out 8-no, 10 ways to kill me.

"H-hi, i-s Jame-son here?" I asked. The man just glared.

"Dee-ean," a familiar voice whined in annoyance behind him. Still glaring the man that I now knew to be Jameson's brother stepped aside revealing Jameson.

"Wow," I said when she came in to view. She looked great, and did her legs get longer? I shook those thoughts away, "Y-you look great."

Jameson grinned.

"That's very sweet of you." She said, before turning to her big brother, "Wasn't it, Dean?"

The man just grunted. Jameson huffed.

"Let's go." She said rather annoyed, "Later, Dee."

She grabbed me by the hand, causing me to blush, and pulled me back out the parking lot.

"You better have her back by 11." Dean yelled after us, "And you better keep your hands to yourself, I don't care if you are the Sheriff's son. I will hunt you down."

I gulped.

"Ignore him, Stiles." Jameson told me, "Everything will be fine."

I nodded and followed her to the Jeep. I opened the door for her and waited for her to climb in before going around to the driver's side. I hopped in and buckled up before turning on the Jeep.

"You know, Stiles," Jameson started, "Dean's warning was about your hands. He didn't say anything about mine."

I looked over at her in shock. Was she trying to get me killed? Her red painted lips lifted up into a smirk.

"You and Dean are just too easy." She teased turning her body to face the front and buckled up like she hadn't just given me a heart attack.

"Very funny." I said sarcastically. I started backing out of the parking spot.

"But also, a legitimate offer, if you're interested." She said. My foot slammed on the brake causing us to lurch to a stop, "Is something wrong, Stiles?"

Seriously woman? How can you go from making innuendos to innocently asking me if I am alright? Now, my hands are even sweatier than before.

"I-I…no, we're good." I told her, beginning to back up again, "We're good."

~Carry On~

I could hear the part music from the street, as Jameson and I walked up to the house. I stopped short in the driveway, looking at the house with the lights flashing in the back and music pounding. So many people, and not a single one was aware what was going on.

"Stiles?" Jameson asked. I looked over to see her looking at me concerned. Oh yea, another unsuspecting teenager, whose life I am now putting at risk.

"Yeah, sorry," I said scratching the back of my neck, "I've uh…actually never been to party."

Jameson smiled, and took my hand again.

"Either have I," she confessed, "but if the movies are anything to go by, we just dance, drink, have fun, and try not to be the idiot who falls into the pool."

"I think you forgot making out in a dark corner." I said without thinking. Jameson's smile turned into a smirk, and I suddenly realized what I said, "I did not mean to say that out loud."

"Oh, I think you did. And I approve." She said pulling me along to the house, "So be on the look-out for a nice dark corner."

I felt the blush all the way to the tips of my ear this time. I don't think it really went away until we finally reached the back yard. I scanned the patio for Scott and found him dancing with Allison.

"So, that's the little homewrecker?" Jameson drawled beside me, "She's cute in a porcelain doll kind of way, I guess. If you like that sort of thing. Personally, I don't see the appeal. You are much better looking than her."

I breathed out a small laugh. I liked how she was taking my side, even though she didn't really know what was going.

"Thanks," I told her. She just smiled back and rubbed her thumb along mine.

"So, what is little doll's name anyway?"

"Allison." I answered, "Allison Argent."

Jameson's head whipped in my direction.

"Argent?"

"Yeah, do you know her family or something?"

"Or something." She replied, her mouth set in a grim line, "I'm going to get a drink."

With that said, she pulled away from me to walk towards the drink table outside. I wonder what that was about? I had no time to ponder that question, because I felt a pair of eyes on me. I looked up and saw Scott looking at me over Allison's shoulder. He nodded his head at me, apologizing once again. I looked away for a second, not sure I want to forgive him for blowing me off. But I soon found myself facing him and nodding back.

"Here you go," a voice broke the moment along with can of something in my face. I refocused my nice and noticed it was a can of Coke.

"Thanks," I said taking the soda from Jameson. She just nodded, and took a huge sip of her own drink, some kind of spiked punch. She still looked grim and her eyes were pinned on Scott's date.

I opened my mouth to ask her what was wrong, when she suddenly did a personality 180 on me.

"We gonna dance or look for that dark corner?" She said, her teasing tone from earlier coming back. Uh, what? What is going on here? She rolled her eyes, "If you are worried about what Dean said earlier, dancing doesn't always require hands on each other."

I cleared my throat and straightened my tie.

"Dancing is good."

"Well, then lessgo." Jameson rallied; she threw back the rest of her drink. She then grabbed my hand and pulled through the throngs of dancers. Once we found a clear area, she slid one arm around my neck and used her other hand to place my opposite hand on the small of her back.

"This definitely constitutes not keeping my hands to myself." I told her lamely following the beat of the song.

"I won't tell if you don't."

"Yeah, okay." I said getting more and more into the beat. Jameson kept up with me and as song went on, I found myself closer and closer to her unsure of who had taken the first step. She looked up at me through her long lashes, entrancing me with her green eyes. I began leaning down as she turned her face up.

"Scott, are you okay?" I heard Allison call out. My head shot up and towards the sound of her voice. Scott was stumbling away from her, covering his ears like he did when the bell went off at school. I looked up at the sky, and saw the full moon was almost at it's peak.

"Go," Jameson said. I looked down to see her giving me a small smile, "Go, take care of your friend. Just remember where you were when paused this."

"Right. Remember where I was. I will definitely do that."

"Good, now go."

I started to run off but turned back before I got too far.

"Thanks." I told her, and then ran after Scott. I followed him through the house and saw him drive away. This was definitely not good. I raced towards the Jeep and jumped in. The Jeep sprang to life and I took off down the road after him.

~Carry On~

Jameson's Perspective:

With Stiles no longer there to distract me from the fact that one of the Argents was at the party. I ended up stalking after her as she went to the girl who invited me and told her what happened. While I couldn't hear what she was saying, I could see that the adjective abrasive I used earlier to describe our hostess was still accurate. After speaking with Allison, she then resumed being mauled by her boyfriend who was on the team with Scott and Stiles.

Speaking of Scott…Argents, don't particularly date those outside of their profession. And it was very clear that Scott was not a hunter. He didn't have the look, neither did this Allison chick really. Unless…they had the same plan, Dean and Dad had. To insert a young innocent looking hunter into the mix to get information. But why not make a move on Stiles? He clearly had the hook up to the Sheriff's Department and knew about the body and the wolf hair. Stiles also seemed to be open to the idea of the supernatural. Scott, he's just some guy, who ran out of a party…on the night of a full moon.

That's it! That's why Stiles' has been researching werewolves. He doesn't just think a werewolf killed that girl; he thinks it bit Scott. That would explain everyone's surprise at practice the other day. I mean his agility was off the charts. Shit, how did I miss this? I cannot believe the Argents caught this before I did. The Argents! Scott! He was so dead. Where was Allison? I looked up to see that she was gone.

"Son of a bitch!" I swore under my breath before wading through the crowds to leave the house. I needed to call Dean now, before this all got out of hand. This had to be Scott's first moon, he didn't deserve what was coming for him.

As I came out of the house, I saw Allison standing on the curb looking like she was waiting for someone to pick her up. Scott was nowhere to be seen, so I am assuming that was good news.

"Allison," a deep voice called out. I followed the voice to probably one of the hottest men I have ever seen, bar Clint Eastwood. However, if he talking to Allison, maybe he's her partner, "I am a friend of Scott's. My name's Derek."

Or maybe not.

"Scott called me and said he wasn't feeling well," the man, Derek, continued, "He sends his apologies, and asked if I could take your home."

"Uhh….yeah, sure." The girl said quietly.

"Good, my car is just over this way." He said and as he turned the light hit his eye, casting a blue glow. Okay, Jameson. It's a full moon, Scott's a werewolf. Somebody had to have bit him. This man, with reflective eyes, wants to take the Argent girl home. Conclusion: This man is possibly a werewolf, who may have bit Scott, and probably wants to kill hunters. While one less Argent in the world, would help me sleep better at night. A murderous werewolf would not. Action: Become the third wheel.

"Allison!" I called out, walking over to her. She turned in surprise, but smiled when she recognized me, "Hey, did Scott ditch you too?"

"Yeah, he wasn't feeling well. Where's Stiles?"

"He must have followed Scott home. And if Scott is sick, I'm not quite sure that I want Stiles coming back to get me. Or worse, have my brother pick me up. He said some not nice things to Stiles about curfews and hands. I would hate to see what this gets him."

"Scott's friend is giving me a ride home." Allison told me, before turning to Derek, "Do you mind dropping her off too?"

"Not a problem," he said, through a gritted smile. Well, at least he doesn't seem interested in killing a "innocent" bystander.

"Thanks, you're a life saver. I'm at the motel on Lincoln." I told him.

"Great. My car is this way." He told us both, before leading us to a shiny black Camaro.

"Nice car, man." I complimented, "It's what? A 2009? 10?"

"2010." He answered.

"Nice, not as great as '69. But, what Camaro is? At least there bring the classic body back."

"Uh-huh," was Derek's only reply has he open the back door for me. I slid in and then he shut the door before Allison could get in. He rounded the back of the car to open the front passenger door for her. Allison rounded the front of the car and climbed in.

Derek pulled away from the curb, and I reached in my sneaker for my phone to text Dean.

Me: Stiles' friend Scott is a werewolf. Argents know. You need to find him, NOW!

A few second later, Dean texted back.

Jerk: Where are you?

I took a breath, debating telling him the truth. But he would find out sooner or later.

Me: In a car…with a possible werewolf. Trying to prevent him from killing Allison Argent or other way around. He may also be the one who bit Scott.

Jerk: WHAT? Where are you?

Me: On Heather Street turning right onto Conway. Look, I got this. FIND SCOTT.

Jerk: Fine. But you keep me posted. Where does this kid live anyway?

Me: No idea. You're going to have to look it up. The last name is McCall.

Jerk: Awesome.

With Scott taken care of, I was able to focus on what was happening to me. Like the fact, that the car was silent, and Allison was looking at me pleadingly.

"What?" I mouthed. She looked down bashfully, and when she looked up, she flicked her eyes between us and Derek. Oh…yeah, two teenage girls in a grown ass stranger's car. Yeah, that's...uh, troubling, isn't it? Wait, if she's an Argent, shouldn't she know how to handle the situation? Is she doing a bit, so I don't seem suspicious of the situation? Whatever her game was, I decided to play along for now.

"So Derek, how do you know Scott?" I asked.

"Lacrosse."

"Oh? Were you a senior last year?"

"No, I used to help out at the middle school lacrosse team."

"interesting, with your height I would have taken you for a basketball player." I said off-handedly. Derek tensed up, and I caught another flash of blue. I think I upset him. Okay, this is looking more and more like a Friday night horror move as the night goes on.

"I don't really like basketball." Derek replied.

"And what did you say your last name was?"

"I didn't and it's Hale."

Hale? Hale as in Laura Hale. If Derek is a werewolf, which is looking more and more likely, then his sister could have been one too. Could he have killed her and bit Scott? But why kill Laura, and then make a new member of his pack? Wouldn't Laura have already been a better candidate? Or maybe they fought over something. Or maybe, one of the Argents killed Laura, they do like cutting people in half. And this whole thing biting Scott, taking Allison home, is part of Derek's revenge plot. Dean is going to love this.

I continued down this train of thought until I felt the car stop. I looked up expecting to see the motel. Clearly, I was the one he needed to get rid of first. However, instead it was a grand two-story home.

"Thanks for the ride." Allison said, before turning back to me, "If you want, I can have my Mom drive you home?"

Me in another car with an Argent. One who would probably recognize me? Pass.

"Thanks, but it's late. I would hate to inconvenience your Mom. I'll just continue to inconvenience Derek."

"Are you sure?" She asked, her eyes sliding over to Derek.

"Derek?" I asked.

"It's fine, Allison. She's on the way home."

"Okay, I guess I'll see you Monday?"

"Yeah, sure." I replied. Gag me. What's her freaking deal? She smiled, still looking concerned before getting out of the car. Derek waited until she got to the door, when it opened, it revealed a woman I was very familiar with. I quickly ducked out of sight.

"Shit!" I hissed. I heard leather on leather and looked up to see Derek looking curiously at me, "I, uh, just had something in my shoe."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion like he detected the lie. Which if my theory is correct, he probably did. I looked away to escape his gaze when I noticed Allison's jacket.

"Oh hey, Allison left her jacket." I said. Derek looked at the house, and then started to pull out.

"I'll have Scott give it to her."

"Good call, then he can sniff her out later when comes begging for her forgiveness." I replied stressing key words. Derek tensed at each one, "Or maybe it's so you can sniff her out, right Derek?"

Derek pulls over abruptly. And glares into his rear-view mirror.

"Who are you?"

"On paper? Jameson Cole. But usually my name is more along the lines of Whiskey and rifles."

Derek growls.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you?" I asked, "What are you thinking going after the Argents? You suicidal?"

"That's none of your business."

"It's your sister, isn't? You think they killed her?"

He spun around in his seat.

"What do you know?"

"If they killed her? I don't know. We aren't exactly on speaking terms with them. But I do know that cutting their prey in half is one of their signature moves. Which could have happened to you too, if I hadn't come along."

"Allison? No, she doesn't know."

"Bull-shit! They train them from birth, there is no way she doesn't know."

"If she knew, she definitely wouldn't have left the car without you."

"It wouldn't be the first time an Argent risked the life of bystander for their own gain."

"I know," he agreed quietly, "But I've been watching the family for days, she's not with them."

"Whatever." I said with an eye roll.

"Now, why are you and your brother here?"

I sighed.

"We saw an article about your sister. Seemed like our kind of thing. And frankly buddy, you are on the suspect list."

"I didn't kill my sister."

"I know. But what about Scott? Are you really going to put a teenager in the middle of your revenge plot?

"I didn't bite him." He said flashing his wolf eyes at me, "Only an Alpha can."

"Oh, so you one of them."

"One of what?"

"Just some of the old lore said that some of the lines of Lycan's sons were more wolf than man and had more control. Hey, if you're not lying to me, you are looking less likely as suspect. And I probably won't have to kill you."

"What's preventing me from killing you?"

"I don't like the Argent either." I confessed, "They killed someone I cared about t0o. And he was human."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks." I told him, "Work with us. Dean and I can help."

"I'll think about it." Derek said, turning to face the front, "But there are some things I need to do first."

~Carry On~

Dean's Perspective:

After doing a internet search for the McCall house, I started to race out of the motel to find this Scott kid only to get a message from the kid saying it was taken care of and she was almost to the motel. I waited for her by the window peaking out of the blinds like a sitcom neighbor. A dark Camaro rolled into the parking lot, stopping in front of our motel room. Jameson emerged from the back seat and waved in my direction before leaning back into the car to speak to the driver. The car pulled away and Jameson stared after it until it was out of side. She turned on her heel and I could see her sigh before coming towards the room.

"Well, what happened? And who the hell was that?" I pounced on her the moment she came in. She sighed again as she locked door. She pushed away from the door and plopped herself on her bed.

"So" she begins swinging her foot on to her knee so she could untie her shoe, "Stiles and I get to the party, it's just what you expect-underage drinking, loud music, people making out in corners."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"I'm getting there, Dean. I'm just setting up the scene," she tells me, "Now, where was I? Oh right, making out in corners. Anyway, we come out to the back yard, and we see Scott dancing with guess who? Allison Argent. Yeah, yeah, I know I have been going to school with her for days now and never knew. However, I wasn't that suspicious of it at this point, until Scott flees the party like a bat out of hell. Stiles goes after him, and suddenly it all clicks. Stiles wasn't researching werewolves, just because he thinks one girl Laura Hale, no he thinks one bit his best friend. His best friend who became great at lacrosse overnight and from what Stiles tells me, who shared an instant connection with the Argent girl. Who pro-"

"Probably had the same idea we did." I interrupted.

"Exactly. Assuming Scott was bit few days ago when he and Stiles went to look for Laura Hale's body, this is Scott's first moon. An innocent kid who has no idea what is going on with him. I then happened to notice that Allison was gone and ran out of the party to call you, because well, Scott does not deserve whatever she and her family had planned. However, when I get out of there, this other guy comes up to her. I assumed he's another hunter, but he said he was a friend of Scott. I thought I saw his eyes flash blue, so I inserted myself into the situation. I mean if Scott didn't kill the girl, then there was another wolf out there. I got in the care with Allison and the guys, which is when I texted you."

"And seeing as there's no blood, I'm assuming you were not in the middle of a death match."

"Sort of. So, turns out, the guy driving us is none other than Derek Hale."

"Hale, as in Laura Hale?"

"Her brother. He came to town to find her murder or murders. Given the nature of her death, he thinks it's the Argents."

"So, he and Laura are werewolves?"

"Yep."

"And did he bite Scott?"

"He says he didn't. Only an Alpha wolf he can do it, and his eyes weren't red."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, he flashed his blue eyes at me."

"Blue? What does that mean?"

"If you don't know, I don't know. These aren't our typical wolves. The only time we have dealt with his kind is when we hunted with the Argents."

"So back to Scott, you said it was handled?"

"Derek's got it handled. He wants to help Scott; he thinks that if it wasn't the Argents it was the Alpha that killed Laura. Laura was apparently an Alpha so either she was killed because the other one saw her as a rival, or it was a Beta who wanted to be an Alpha. He can train Scott and use him to get the Alpha to come out into the open."

"And you trust him, this Derek?"

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. And with Victoria Argent in town.."

"Wait, Victoria's in town?"

"Oh yeah, forgot that part, he greeted Allison at the door when Derek and I dropped her off." Jameson explained, "Turns out Allison, knows nothing about the family business. I was worried about Derek for nothing. Her life on the other hand, it's 50/50."

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"I offered our help to Derek with investigating what happened to his sister."

"What?"

~Carry On~

Saturday, January 9th

Stiles' Perspective:

Jameson: It's fine, but there is going to be a lot of groveling we press play on what almost happened at the party.

I smirked when I read Jameson's text. At least, I didn't totally blow it. I tossed the phone in the passenger seat and continued looking for Scott. There! He was walking down the side of the road that led out of the preserve, and somehow lost his shirt.

I pulled up alongside of him, and he gave me a grateful look before hopping in. I reached into the back and gave him my jacket from last night. As he put it on, I continued down the road.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he said leaning his head against the door, "You know what actually worries me the most?"

"If you say Allison, I'm seriously going to punch you in the head." I warned him. Dude really needed to get his priorities straight.

"She probably hates me now."

"Uhghh…" I groaned, "I doubt that, but you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology. No telling what Derek told her. Or you could tell her the truth, and revel in the awesomeness that you're a freaking werewolf."

Scott gave me a look.

"Okay, bad idea." I retracted, but Scott still looked pretty upset, "Hey, we'll get through this. Come on, If I have to, I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once I could do it."

Scott scoffs, but seemed amused by the offer. Looks like I made things better already.

~Carry On~

Phew, that took a lot out of me. I hope you all enjoyed this installment. Until next time, this is Dreamlessly17 signing off.