Avery, unlike what seemed to be the rest of Beacon Hills and possibly the county too, was unaware of the supernatural shit that went on in the supposedly sleepy town of Beacon Hills. She had not even once considered the idea of things that go bump during the night to be a real thing.

Until now, that is.

Avery had seen something after Georgia's funeral, something that made literally no sense to her, what-so-ever. She had seen something that only the mere idea of there being a supernatural universe could explain, or make her feel like she wasn't completely insane at least.

The poor girl had run home, too shell-shocked to even make it inside her house, her step-father had found her trembling outside the house on the lawn an hour later, sobs wracking her body and Troy had decided she was grief-stricken and should be on bed rest for the entire week.

Whilst on bed rest, after one or two days of apparent shell shock, Avery had gotten to work. She googled everything she could on the matter, ransacking all the bookshelves for anything of importance and even went as far as too sneak out of the house (carefully avoiding Troy, who, of course, worked from home) to run to the library to find material on the matter. But nothing.

Then Avery got to thinking, who the hell would have the reading materials she needed? Who would be so far into that weird shit, that they would have those kind of books?

Derek Hale just honestly had to be the unluckiest werewolf in the history of werewolves, it seemed. With a dead family, no successful relationships, his only friends being his murderous uncle and some random teenagers, on top of that- no job and no idea what the hell he is doing with his life.

Until now, really. It had been months since the last mechanic had 'died' (by the hands of the kanima) and since then all repair on his Camaro had to be done himself, which he did well. Well enough to gain attention from some other people in need of repairing their cars, people who had been willing to pay a handsome amount too.

This is how he ended up using his crumbling family house to house a few cars to repair, using the small (shit) garage to house the fair many tools he had shipped here when he first moved to town and began a small business.

At this specific moment, Derek was looking over a beautiful, but slightly rundown car, an old one at that. It was a gorgeous 1968 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 belonging to a small, blonde girl whom awkwardly sat in the corner. The engine looked pretty good, Derek had noticed a lot of newer parts sitting slightly uncomfortably in the older model car. Besides the engine, there was little denting, the paint was pretty good and there doesn't seem to be anything honestly wrong with the car-

"Are you a werewolf?"

Derek froze for a split second, before swiftly turning and running at the small girl, flinging her against the black, broken wall.

"I'm going to take that as a yes, then."

Sheriff Stilinski had the worst day ever.

He had woken up late, due to his alarm clock having 'mysteriously' gone missing (he suspected his son to be the cause of the disappearance), then he had broken down in the middle of nowhere and was then forced to literally walk to the station as he had no signal (something that he wished he could blame on his son too, as was his custom by this point, but unfortunately was the fault of the shitty signal that Beacon Hills had) to call someone.

When he did arrive at the station, it was in anarchy.

"What the hell do you mean 'there was a goat involved'?" The Sheriff was 10,000% done with the inhabitants of Beacon Hills. There had been a very public fight on Main Street that had ended with three men injured and the weirdest story to back the violence up. "I'm sorry, but are you actually shitting me right now?!" The Sheriff sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair, then down the back of his neck in agitation before staring at the man in front of him. "You know what? Parish!" The deputy in question answered the Sheriffs call by poking his head around the doorway. "Can you take over here?" Mr Stilinski sent his deputy a look that said 'I am so done' and Parish nodded awkwardly.

"If you would follow me, sir."

"Thank God." There was finally silence, just what he needed-

It was the slam of the door ten minutes later that told the Sheriff that either shit had hit metaphorical fan within the station, or his son (whom the metaphorical shit followed around) had arrived to thoroughly annoy him. Stilinski opened his left eye, only to see the annoying faces of his son, Stiles, and his son-by-everything-but-name, Scott. A loud, annoyed sound was released from the Sheriff's mouth, growing louder for every second that it was resonating.

"Uh, Dad?"

The loud sound continued.

"Sheriff?"

Would this be classed as shouting now?

"DAD!"

All sounds quietened. The Sheriff opened his previously closed eyes to glare annoyed at his son, "What. Do. You. Want?" He felt like this day was never going to end for the him.

"We found a body in the woods." Stiles spoke at a fast pace, "We found it by the lake, there was blood everywhere but the body looks so weird and I think it was murder because of all the blood-" By this point the Sheriff had already darted out of his chair, grabbed his sons and had pulled them along with him.

"Take me there, now." He shouted suddenly to his deputies, "There's a dead body!"

"Sheriff?" Parish had run up to the three, after shaking off a female citizen who 'needed his help'.

"Grab everyone, this goat thing can wait." The Sheriff then proceeded to walk dramatically out of the station, his deputies following but leaving behind Scott and Stiles, whom looked confusedly at each other.

"Goat thing?"

"Can you help me?"

Derek ran a hand through his short black hair as he slowly laid himself against the car he had been working on, already tired and ready to leave the planet. Even when he attempted to earn a decent living for him and his (non-existent) family he was followed around by supernatural bullshit. He honestly wishes sometimes that he had never attempted to help Scott all those years ago; after all, his life would have been way easier.

"Yeah, I can help." His eyes raised to the girl, "I know people that can help too-"

"No! …Just you." The girls voice lowered, her eyes beginning to fill with tears and Derek noticed how she never truly looked in his direction, "I just want things to be normal again."

"Look at me." She did. "Can you see them now?" She nodded. "You're an Auraklet, they see the dead people who stay on Earth as guides, or more well-known; the people with 'unfinished business'. Boom. Done." Derek had to stop hanging around teenagers; he was even beginning to sound like a friggin' douche-bag, such as Stilinski. God, that kid was annoying.

"And I, Avery McDonald, am a Auraklet?"

"Yep."

Definitely too much time with Stilinski.

"Dear God!"

They, the police force of Beacon Hills, had eventually found the dead body that the two teens had previously found. It was pretty much in the middle of no where, but Stiles and Scott refused to explain why they were running around in the middle of the forest during the day. The body was horrific. It was male, in his mid thirties and, judging by his disgusting clothes, a single heterosexual.

But that wasn't what was horrific about the body.

It was grey. As if the body was devoid of any blood, whatsoever. The man also had his eyes open, as if he were still alive- but they were frozen, filled with fear and seemed to frighten all the deputies in witness to the freaky orbs.

The Sheriff let out a deep breath, before waving over the paramedics who were on standby, ready to check over the body and ready to begin the investigation. "Alright boys, let's get a perimetre sorted out, then I want a search ten miles in every direction, looking for anything suspicious." He pulled away, letting his deputies handle it whilst he gestured for Scott and Stiles to come over to him. "Are you two going to tell me what you were doing out here now?"

They froze.

"Just going for a walk." Scott was always a bad liar, but at least he wasn't as bad as Stiles.

"Yep! Just walking about. Fresh air, you know. Lots and lots of fresh air, good for you."

John Stilinski sighed and turned around, refusing to stare at the two for any longer at this point. "Just get out of here!"

"Avery?" Scott was staring at her in shock, after all they were at Derek's, the whole bloody pack was there, ready to talk to the older man about the resent dead body found in the woods- and now this.

Avery smiled widely, still chuckling next to Derek on the hood of her car. Derek was surprisingly funny, Avery found out, sarcastic but funny none the less. "Hello!"

"What are you, uh, doing here?" Stiles was hot under the collar, he was definitely not expecting to see her here and he also wasn't expecting Lydia to possessively grab his arm when he did spot her.

"Me?" Avery laughed, sharing a look with an amused Derek, before standing, "I was just leaving, actually." She grabbed the keys to her car from Derek, smiling at the mildly amused man, before waving goodbye to the pack, "Thank you for the help!"

"Your welcome, come back anytime."

"I will!" The door of the car slammed shut behind her, her smile never dimming though, as she drove out of the decrepit old Hale garage. There was a slightly muffled rev, before the car was completely out of sight.

"What happened in here?" As always, Isaac asks the real questions.

Stiles stared at Derek, with something akin to jealousy in his eyes, but it was Derek's smirk back at him that made his stare turned into a glare.

"Nothing, really."