Meeting up with Derek Hale and then being told all about the supernatural things that go down in Beacon Hills was like a veil finally being pulled over Avery McDonald's eyes. Suddenly things began to make perfect sense, such as the various 'animal attacks', as well as Scott McCall's ever growing 'group of friends' - Avery was told that it's actually called a 'pack' and that Scott was the 'alpha' (which was basically the head bitch). Avery also vaguely wondered if this 'werewolf' thing was why she lost friends in Boyd, Isaac and Erica. The more she thought along that specific train of thought the angrier she got at her once upon a time ago 'friends'.

But things were different now, Avery was different. She could talk to dead people, for one. This was a feat in itself, and honestly, it felt a lot like she should be shipped off to the Jedi Academy immediately - or some shit cause she definitely had 'the force'. But then again, Avery thought, I don't think I would be able to be such a monk, but I also don't want to become the next Vader. Avery snapped out of her thoughts with a snort, almost laughing out loud at the mere idea of her actually being in a relationship. If she had learnt anything in the past months, it was that she really wouldn't be able to be in a relationship anytime soon.

"Are you going to talk to me, or just stare into space all day?" Speaking of dead people.

Georgia was 'sitting' on her bed at the moment, looking ethereal and a lot like

she was floating instead of sitting. Other than the otherworldly glow that radiated from beneath her gorgeous dark skin, she looked almost exactly the same as she did before she died - with the exception of no air tank which she wouldn't need ever again. "I'm kind of waiting for you to leave, if I'm gonna be completely honest." Avery may now be able to see dead people but that did not mean she was one hundred percent okay with this, because it honestly freaked her the hell out still.

"I see you're still ignoring all your problems in life, it's nice to see that even though I'm dead things haven't changed too much." It's amazing how Georgia was still her bitchy friend, even in death.

Avery scoffed loudly, too loudly, and was suddenly thankful that she was home alone after school today (her brother had his fist ballet lesson today and he was beyond excited). "It's amazing that even in death you find time to comment on my need to avoid situations I find emotionally or mentally strenuous."

"Ooh, such a big word!" Georgia scoffed loudly too, imitating Avery condescendingly, "Tell me, did you look that up in dictionary before this conversation?" She was being snide, something she only used to do when Avery was being silly and stubborn (which she was being now, but was too stubborn to admit).

Avery sprung up from the computer chair she was sitting on, managing to knock it over at the same time, before storming over to Georgia loudly. She was very, very happy to be 'alone' in the house right now. "You're dead!" She waved her hands wildly, looking like she was having hand and arm spasms, or something to that effect anyway. "I shouldn't have to deal with this! I buried your body; I gave a eulogy at your goddamn funeral!" Avery spun away dramatically, blonde hair flying behind her, before stomping out of the room and heading in the direction of the kitchen.

Georgia, the ghost that she is, floating behind Avery at a slower pace, before suddenly disappearing and reappearing in the kitchen. Avery was already rifling through the contents of the fridge, hoping to find the double chocolate fudge brownies she made in her last late-night baking session. They were gone, which suggested that her brother's snack at recess today was said brownies. I'd make an amazing detective; Avery thought smugly when she discovered a bowl of strawberries behind the unopened carton of milk.

"You realise that you're going to be sick if you eat those?" Georgia was right, Avery couldn't control herself when it came to strawberries, and she had to consume the entire contents of the bowl and would then feel like throwing up twenty minutes later. When Avery didn't respond, Georgia rolled her eyes, "Can you stop ignoring me!?"

Avery thought about it for a moment, before shaking away the thought and continuing with her eating of the strawberries she so cleverly found. She spun on her heel, fully prepared to run away from her problems when a thought flashed through her mind, so she awkwardly turned to Ghost Georgia with an even awkward expression on her face. "When I fully understand what's going on with me and this," she waved wildly above her head, looking as spastic as Stilinski, "then, and only then, will I stop ignoring you. Okay?" Avery didn't bother to even wait for an answer, before she practically ran upstairs.

"Do you think it was nothing?" Stiles and Scott we're currently in the weights room of the school, after said school had finished for the day. Scott was lying on the bench; easily lifting what could possibly be twice his body weight, whilst Stiles awkwardly sat next to him on a bench that he was supposed to lay on, lifting smaller Dumbbells.

"Do I think- What are you talking about?" Scott didn't even pause in his rapid weight-lifting routine to question Stiles. Although Scott should realise by now that whenever Stiles asked him something this vague, they usually ended up doing something dangerous and/or stupid.

"Avery and Derek."

Scott immediately stopped what he was doing, in favour of loud groaning (something he learnt from Papa Stilinski). He sat up, still groaning after safely lifting the weights back onto their hooks, and sat staring at Stiles (with the groaning still commencing). Said groan continued long enough for Stiles to put his own weights down grab a glass of water and grab a towel, which he promptly threw in Scott's face, cutting of the groan after approximately four minutes and twenty seconds. "What is your obsession with her?"

Stiles was startled, and succeeded in dropping the cup he had been previously drinking from, "Obsession? Me?"

"You never stop talking about her, dude." Scott looked at him suddenly, "Do you like her?" He squinted at him in confusion, before smiling tensely, "You do realise that you broke her heart and also; you're kinda in a relationship with the girl you've been 'in love with'," Scott even used quotation marks, as he kind of thought it to be simple infatuation, "since third grade?"

Stiles looked away, knowing that Scott was right, but completely unsure of how to feel about this situation he was suddenly in. Normally Stiles has all the answers that they needed, even if they were dumb and/or stupid answers. "God, what the fuck is going on with me lately?"

Scott was wondering the same thing, if he was being honest.

"I don't know, man." Stiles got ready to stand up, completely ready to leave the weights room when he turned to Scott again, "Do you know what I should do?"

Scott opened his mouth, and then he closed it again and paused, looking deep in thought, before starting again. "You should apologise to Avery, first for missing your date, and secondly for being a dick and not saying sorry sooner." He then smacked Stiles on the back of his head, "Then you should figure out if you actually do like her, then after that you can help me work out what is killing people lately."

Stiles rolled his eyes, which lead to Scott pushing him off the bench he had been sitting on.

"Hello again!" Avery smiled wide as she has pranced into the Hale House, hair pulled into cute pigtails and a polka dotted dress hugging her figure. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"In my house?" Derek asked amused, this was only discernible by the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. "Seems like fate that we meet each other here." Derek had been working on a small VW Bug, one that Avery recognised as Mrs Conway's, the old (53) lady who lived down her street. "What can I do for you?"

Avery strolled around the garage, pretending to not be interested in much that was placed about. "I was wondering, no pressure or anything, if you could further explain my ESP, Sixth-Sense thing." She paused in front of him, a large smile on her face, her eyes blown wide in a puppy dog manner and slightly twirling in her stationary position. Avery looked the picture of innocence, which is why the mischievous glint in her eyes made Derek suspicious of the actions.

"There's a catch, isn't there?" Derek was right, of course, Avery was not feeling this garage scene for such momentous explanation - in a movie this setting would be nothing less than a dinner in a small town. "Does this catch involve other people coming with us?" Avery shook her head, blonde locks flying wildly around her head, lips continuing the pleading pout. "Alright then."

"Son, what are you doing?"

It was a quiet afternoon at the Beacon Hills County Sheriffs office, despite a new body that had been brought in a few days prior (it was entirely drained of its blood as people later discovered), which is why the Sheriff had returned to his home earlier than usual. It was just before dinner time, something the Sheriff finds, usually, very hard to achieve with such a hectic schedule, and the man was considering cooking up quite the home cooked meal. As a person of the male orientation, John was an excellent cooker of meats - he could fry up, or cook a steak with the best of them - which is why he had stopped off at the shops before going home to get food, all in plan to enjoy a nice, quaint dinner with his odd, spastic son.

"Dad?!"

But then Sheriff Stilinski walks in on this - his odd, spastic son sitting in his room, with a cork board full of strong and various photographs, most of them being pictures of Avery's face. John had walked in to see Stiles staring intensely at a certain picture in the middle of the board, one of Avery laughing with her little brother and (dead) best friend at the local park in Beacon Hills, and a look of concentration on his pale, beauty-spotted face. As a father, the Sheriff should certainly be far more concerned that his son could possibly be a serial killer or at the very least a creepy stalker; but then again neither he nor Stiles was exactly 'normal'. Especially Stiles. The Sheriff knew for a fact that the very cork board his son had just been intently staring at usually held stolen pictures of various cases he was working, with small bits of paper attached containing various theories as to who or what could be the cause of the new case.

The Sheriff sighed loudly, something which Stiles began to notice that he did often. "Son, I am going to ask one more time that you leave Avery alone." He eyes his son suspiciously, "What are you doing anyway?"

Stiles was a shitty liar; the only reason he was still alive today is due to the fact that although he's a shitty liar - the people he's lying to are just dumbasses. But, he's still a bad liar, plus this was his dad, so he didn't lie, "I'm trying to figure out if I like Avery McDonald for real. Or if I'm just irrationally jealous of anyone who talks to her and makes her laugh. Although, me liking her would makes sense of why; when she looks at me like I'm scum, I then feel shitty. But then there's also the fact that I'm dating Lydia, who I've been in love with for about half my life, which confuses me also." Stiles was fully prepared to continue with his weirdly honest ramblings, which is why the Sheriff held up his hand in protest.

"Whoa!" The Sheriff now had a feeling of some sort of combination of pride and fear, not to mention guilt and anxiety. "Look, I'm making dinner downstairs, why don't you come down and we can, uh..." He was definitely as awkward as his child, "We can chat about it?"

Stiles smiled small, his dad was making food? He felt himself nodding, he needed help with what he was going through - he never was good with emotions after all. "I'd like that."