A/N: I stink at updating, I know. I had to do this huge leadership thing, and life has been nuts. The chapter is a bit choppy, I apologize, and I didn't really edit, but try to understand and enjoy anyway! Thank you so much, all of ya'll.

Oh! And just to put a disclaimer on it, these characters belong to Jeff Davis, and no money is being made from this. That goes for the entire story.

-Kenxi

"How long ago did you say this thing attacked you?"

"Just a few days ago."

The files and pictures in front of Scott made it seem as if Kate had been looking for the creature for weeks. Sheesh. Kate Argent was still surprising. Although, he probably shouldn't have been surprised, knowing her past of hunting these types of things.

Scott looked up from the victims' horrific dead bodies to make a face at Stiles across from him about Kate's reply, but Stiles wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was biting a quivering bottom lip and turning his head away from the pictures, his entire body stiff. Beside him, Lydia was only focusing upon the reports in front of her concerning the killings in the area, and next to her, Malia was pursing her lips and appeared to be thinking more than searching for anything.

There had been hugging when the pack had gotten Stiles back, even Malia (it was awkward), and there was some glaring when they saw Kate, but eventually a mutual agreement settled over them to talk things over at Stiles' house where his dad was absent. And so here they sat in the small living room, morbid pictures and reports of the "animal" attacks. Scott made Stiles promise to get his head checked out by his mom afterwards, but he really hadn't seemed too bad other than some bruising. But now he looked like he was going to be sick.

Before he could say anything to his friend, though, Malia fell back against the couch. "Well these really don't look that different from certain cat attacks out there. How are we so certain there is a supernatural monster here anyway? Why are we taking our enemy's word on it?"

Scott sighed. "We talked about this, Malia."

She huffed, folding her arms. Lydia gently put a hand on her arm. When had those two suddenly become friends? Girls are a wonder, Scott thought.

Kate was kneeling on the floor next to the coffee table which held the pictures and reports. At Malia's comments, she stood up, chin held high. "I know I'm the last person you trust right now—"

"Aside from maybe a murderer. Oh, wait," Stiles muttered, staring at his hands.

"—but I wouldn't come to you if this wasn't serious. Now I want this thing, whatever it is, dead. And I'm sure you kids do too. Along with the police department."

The room was still for a moment, everyone feeding their own thoughts. Finally Malia let a "whatever" slip through her lips and that was that.

"Good," Kate clapped her hands, and just like that the cold chill dispersed from the room. "Now these are so far the only killings that appear to be at the monster's fault, but I assume more are to follow. There was even one today, and the deaths are getting closer and closer together, time-wise. Either this thing is in control, or it is being controlled, and I believe the first thing we need to figure out is which one. If we can do that, then we can—"

"It's being controlled," Stiles whispered.

Kate whipped around to look at him. He hadn't even raised his head, just kept tapping his fingers one by one, his lips barely moving as he did so.

Counting.

Again, Scott wanted to say something about his friend's behavior, but Kate spoke first.

"I do believe that's the second time you've interrupted me." When Stiles didn't react, Kate sighed and gave in. "What makes you think it's being controlled?"

Stiles suddenly froze, staring harshly at his fingers. Scott could hear his heart beat stutter, and then it began beating rather fast.

"Stiles—"

"I have to go now. I just remembered that I haven't taken my dad any dinner. He'll forget to eat unless I do. Sorry, we'll talk later." Stiles stood up quickly, almost tripping over his own feet, and started for the kitchen. Everyone just sat silently in bewilderment of the human's behavior.

He was out the door with a brown bag in hand before anyone could get a proper thought working.

Kate put her hands on her hips. "Third time he's interrupted me. I really hope this isn't going to be a habit of his."

00000

Once more Scott did not know where his friend was, and that was nerve-racking.

Normally he really felt that Stiles could handle himself better than most supernatural beings even as a human, but with the way things had gone today, his nerves were being seriously racked.

He used the excuse that Stiles probably had a concussion, so of course he should be worried. But if he told the truth, mostly Scott was just afraid that Stiles was slipping back into his past state when he couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not. Sometimes things like this happened. Little things from the past which Stiles did when he got a bit too nervous or anxious. But the way he had been counting his fingers earlier…he was surprised Lydia hadn't noticed. Or at least she hadn't said anything. Maybe Stiles was with her now, talking. That would make sense. Scott would be okay with that. He just wished someone would tell him something.

It was nearly ten at night now, and Stiles had left around half past eight to bring food to his dad. Apparently the Sheriff hadn't seen him, only got the dropped off food around that time.

Suddenly, there was tapping on his window.

Scott held his breath, but then heard the familiar beating of his friend's heart behind the glass and hurried to open it.

Pulling Stiles through quickly, he immediately gave him a huge hug. Just as quickly, he pulled away.

"What were you thinking? I was so worried! You left over an hour ago! And why did you come in through the window? What…" Scott broke off when he got a look at Stiles' face. Eyes huge and scared, lips shaking, face pale. Well, that last bit was actually normal.

"I need to tell you something, Scott. Now."

He nodded and sat down on the bed without a word. Inside he was just praying that Stiles didn't tell him anything about waking dreams or night terrors or anything. Just praying.

Turned out it was about dreams, but not the way Scott was thinking. This might have been worse.

"I've been having these dreams," Stiles started, pacing the floor as he spoke, using his hands to narrate as usual. "Not very many, so I told myself not to worry, but I think I should start worrying, now." Scott just bit his tongue and watched his friend, not wanting to say anything that might keep him from continuing. "The dreams are the killings that have happened recently. I've dreamt of every single one of them."

Cautiously, Scott tried, "You mean you have seen the reports and have had nightmares about the victims."

Before Scott had even finished the sentence, Stiles was shaking his head fervently. "No, no, nothing like that. If it was, then I'd hardly have reason to worry, right? No, this is so much worse. I'm having the dreams—nightmares—before they happen. The very night someone is killed. And as far as I can tell, the same time they're happening too." Scott couldn't help but stare back at Stiles with a horrified look. Stiles glanced at him, and then away again. "That's not even the worst part. That part is how it's always me killing them. Or at least I'm seeing it through the killers' eyes? I don't know." Stiles ran his hands feverishly through his hair, wincing a little as it tugged at the bruises on his head.

"Why didn't you tell anyone, Stiles?" Scott let out like a breath. With everything going on, what did this mean?

Not the best thing to say. Stiles nearly freaked out. "I didn't know what to think!" He threw his hands in the air, his eyes pleading with Scott. "What could I do, anyway? Things were normal. My dad said this was a normal case, nothing supernatural. What could I have been afraid of? I just…" Stiles dropped to the floor, putting his face in his hands. "I didn't want this to be anything, so I refused to look at it as such."

Scott took a deep breath as he watched Stiles, and he went over to sit next to him on the ground.

"You always did suck at tricking yourself. Everyone else, maybe. But not you. You're too smart for your own good."

Stiles lifted his head to look at Scott and burst out laughing. Scott was a bit taken back, for it hadn't really meant to be a joke, but he quickly joined in too.

"I just don't know how I'm supposed to tell my dad, you know?" Stiles said after a minute of laughing. "I've never had much luck in the dream department all through my life."

Scott offered a smile. "We'll figure it out. Or at least you will. You always figure it out, Stiles. We just need to take control of the situation."

Stiles stilled next to him at his last words. "Control." He turned to Scott, his eyes fierce. "You remember how I said tonight that it was being controlled? Well what if it is? But what if I'm the one controlling it Scott?"

"Stiles," Scott felt a suddenly very serious edge reach the room, "you couldn't possibly. That doesn't make sense."

He wasn't even listening. "I told you that I'm in the place of the killer, right? I'm watching the murders through his perspective, but what if it isn't really that? What if it's my own perspective, Scott? What if I'm somehow connected to this thing, making it—"

"Stiles!"

Said person stopped his tongue instantly from finishing the sentence, but he wouldn't look at Scott.

Scott breathed calmly, somehow, "How could any of this possibly be your fault? You've said yourself that you don't even know any of the victims. Maybe it made a connection with you and is just making you watch as some sick joke. But you are not at fault here."

There was a silence for a long moment. A thick quiet which spread over the boys like a blanket, keeping them safe from more painful words. Stiles finally broke it though, not able to keep his thoughts to himself.

"You told me that, no matter what, I cannot trick myself. Well, Scott," Stiles suddenly met Scott's eyes, an almost painful intensity within them, "tonight I was checking out the places where the victims were killed. It was too dark to see before, in the dreams. Scott, how do you explain that I know every single place where these people have been killed? Near Malia's coyote cave, the small shack we used to play in…."

"Everyone knows about those, Stiles. That doesn't make it about you."

Stiles' eyes glistened a bit and he blinked hard. "And there's the tree in the woods that I used to go to after my mother died. It made me feel safe like nothing else because that's where she taught me how to climb trees, without my father knowing, of course. I know that it's stupid, but it was important, for some reason. It was our special place. I'm the only living person who knows about that tree, Scott. No one else knows."

Scott washed a hand over his eyes. "Stiles, maybe it's just a coincidence. It happens." He didn't know what to say to Stiles at this point. When that kid's mind was set, it was set.

The thing which scared Scott most was knowing that Stiles was usually right.

"Twice is a coincidence, Scott. I've had these dreams more than twice, and more than three times. Maybe I'm not controlling it, but something is." Stiles clenched his teeth and began silently counting his fingers again. "And whatever it is, Scott," he whispered before mouthing the number six, "I think it has gotten into my mind."

And with that he continued to count, reaching ten, and then starting over once more.

A/N: Let me know what you think! What is the supernatural creature? How is Stiles linked to it? Reviews will probably make me update faster (wink, wink), but I hope to do so always. We shall see. Thank you so much!

-Kenxi