AN: So I changed my penname. It came to me when I told someone to name a fandom to see if I was in it. To which they did then proceeded to call me a mixing pot of fandoms. Ha so viola! New name. Needed it for my next FF anyway. The other one was kinda old and didn't make sense. Okay onto the story. So this chapter there is someone in here that came in last minute. This has some action but Chapter 9 is where it will be at along with 10 and 11. Those will be the intense chapters. Thanks to all that followed and favorited.

Warnings~

Not beta'd. (I need to get one)

Disclaimer- OH the things I'd do if I owned Teen wolf. Derek would still drive the Camaro. js.


Chapter 8: Mistaken Identity

Scott didn't know he had fallen asleep until he was jerked from his dreams when the air took on a salty smell. His hearing kicked in before his eyes could open. The music blasted into his ears causing his body to sit up violently. He stifled a yawn as he stretched in the little car. The radio was turned down and Scott realized that he had fallen asleep with his ear next to the speaker. No wonder it was so loud when he was brought from unconsciousness.

"About time you woke up," Lydia stated staring off watching the other cars. The traffic had picked up the closer they got to the beach.

"It's winter time. Why are there more people going to the beach?" Malia sounded tired. She had laid back across the rear seat. She was reading from a PSAT book in order to study for the test.

"The beaches around here stay kind of warm, the water is still cold. Many come to get tans. There aren't enough to cause problems while driving!' Scott said while Lydia weaved past the slower cars.

"Tans?" Malia raised an eyebrow.

"It's California." Lydia deadpanned.

"We must be getting close. The sea salt smell is getting stronger. Are we near the exit?" Scott asked trying to change the subject.

"It's the next exit."

"Good." Malia mumbled so low Scott almost missed it.

The silence that followed was tense. Only the sound of the female automated voice from the GPS was in the car announcing that their exit was near.

'Seems like I'm not the only one who's on edge with worry.' Scott thought to himself.

Their exit soon came up and it was another thirty minutes before they were in the small beach town. Malia perked up in the back. The GPS announced that they were close to their destination. When they pulled into the parking lot of the Red Roof Inn, Scott noticed Stiles' jeep right away.

"Park next to it." Scott demanded.

When the vehicle stilled he jumped out of the car. He sniffed the air. The scent of Stiles was faded, but still there. That brought him a small comfort to know that his best friend was still alive. He heard the two climb out the driver's side.

He called over his shoulder, "The scent is here but it's a couple of days old."

"Well we aren't that far from the beach, he could've parked the car and walked everywhere." Lydia pointed out before opening the trunk to grab both her and Malia's bags. She tossed one to Malia who caught it easily.

"That's true." Scott sighed.

He reopened the passenger side door of her car and grabbed the duffel off the floor. When he stood back up, he noticed the fishing pole in the jeep.

'What is he doing if he's not fishing?' Scott thought while walking towards the front desk. Lydia and Malia were talking to the concierge. He picked up their conversation.

"We are here to meet up with a friend. He had already checked in four days ago."

"Name?" The woman didn't look up from the computer.

"Stilinski." She looked up for a moment, lips pursed. Shock could be seen in her eyes for a brief moment before they settled on indifference.

"Can you spell that for me?" Lydia sighed, one hand resting on her hip while the other was resting on the counter.

"S-T-I-L-I-N-S-K-I." She said pausing after every few letters to make sure that she typed it in correctly.

"Ah yes. He's in room A22. Now will all four of you be staying in one room?" She looked back up from the screen. Her blonde curls took on a blue hue from the light emitting from the computer screen.

"No. Two rooms. One for me and her." Lydia pointed to herself and Malia. "He will need a key for room A22."

"How long are you staying?" Her gray eyes looked concerned.

"Two days."

"That'll be $120.73."

Lydia slid her debit card across the laminated countertop. Malia's nose was scrunched, no doubt smelling what he could. The over use of perfume and cleaning product to hide something. Scott leaned on the counter, elbows resting against it. She gave Lydia three cards. She point to them.

"These two are for room A24. This one is for A22. Checkout is before 1 p.m. on Sunday."

Scott grabbed his card and headed to the rooms. Stiles' Jeep was parked directly in front of his motel room. The banshee and werecoyote walked past him to their room next door.

"We'll be out in thirty minutes to walk to the beach." Lydia told him before opening the door and dragging Malia in with her.

He chuckled while he fiddled with the key card and opened the door. When he opened the door, the chuckles were trapped in his throat. The smell alone made him release a growl. The door slammed open, he knew it was Malia. The room was a mess. Sheets on the floor and clothes tossed everywhere. Now, Stiles is a messy person but there was always a method to his madness.

This was just chaos.

The scent of Stiles' fear as potent, but he could pick out another, a foreign yet familiar one. His eyes flashed red when he growled out-

"Werewolves."


Farren and Trevor arrived at the beach a few minutes later. Trevor had stopped laughing a seconds before and had caught up to Farren who was still miffed. When they reached the beach, the two had started arguing about what to do.

"Come on! Beach Volleyball never hurt anyone." Trevor whined to Farren. Farren paused in looking for a good spot to put down their stuff to give him a pointed glare.

"Maybe if you're a teenage girl." Farren retorted. Trevor scrunched his face.

"Well what do you suppose we do?" Trevor shot back.

"Okay. Humor me. With whom are we going to play with? And with what ball and net?" Farren replied sarcasm dripping off every word.

"We could gather up some people from around the beach…" His voice died out when he noticed that there was only families and old couples at the beach.

"Fine." He grumbled.

"How about we go for a swim?" Farren suggested.

"What?! No that'll give us away!" Trevor harshly whispered. His eyes darted around only relaxing when he didn't notice anyone in particular listening in.

"Okay." Farren drawled the word out scanning the area for some source of entertainment.

"There's an arcade down by the restaurant." Trevor suggested.

"I owe you so much money." Farren whined as Trevor walked towards the arcade. He let out a laugh through his nose. Trevor began to explain how the legs form the tail in hushed tones on the way to the arcade.

"-amazingly it only hurts the first time, like your body knows it natural and blo-" Farren almost ran into Trevor who had been walking backwards while talking to him. His eyes widened and he spun around abnormally fast. Farren started to turn around but Trevor stopped him.

"Don't look. Those are werewolves behind us." Panic had begun to creep into his voice.

"What? How do you know?" Farren quickened his pace to match Trevor's. Trevor looked over his shoulder then back at Farren.

"The way they are. The one in the front is looking for someone – by smell – it looks like. And another her eyes are glowing looking for said someone." Trevor said in hushed tones.

"How can you see that?"

"We, Murúch, can focus our hearing, smell, sight, or taste at will. Only one at a time and for so far. We can turn it off whereas they" – he motioned behind him – "can't. Only to become desensitized." Farren's curiosity got the better of him and looked, focusing all of his attention to sight.

There were three of them. A dark youth with styled hair was in the front and it seemed like his jaw was lopsided. A red head was in the center doing something on her phone. The one in the back had hair that went from dark brown to blonde and stopped every so often to scan the beaches.

"Wow. I can see her eyes they glow such a bright blue." His gaze then wondered back to the male leader. Inhaling loudly at seeing his eyes.

"What does it mean when their eyes glow a blood red?" His voice shaky from the nerves. Trevor picked up his pace almost running.

"Shit. That's the alpha. That has to be him. He's the one who did that to you." – he paused his eyes becoming hard – "His eyes weren't red earlier that mean they must've found who they're looking for." Trevor cursed again. Farren readjusted his towel on his shoulder.

"Who are they looking for?"

"If I had to guess…You." He pointed to Farren. Trevor stole one last glance and yelled, "Run!" before sprinting off. Farren dropped the towel in surprise and sprinted as fast as he could. Farren was close on Trevor's heels as they neared the businesses at the end of the pier.

"This way! It'll throw them off our scent." Farren nodded. He glanced back at his pursuers. Farren faltered a moment when he saw the desperation and hurt on their faces.

"Stiles," he heard and his heart as if it was going to break.

"Come on!" Trevor yelled before rounding a corner and pulling Farren with him. The two dashed into a doorway.

Farren found himself in the back of a kitchen. They weaved through the counters and chefs. Farren mumbled 'Sorry' and 'excuse me' more times, than he could count before they were in an office. They slammed the door shut. The two heaved heavily while leaning on the door before realizing where they were. The room's previous occupant looked up from the book he was reading. The glasses were perched precariously on his nose.

"I see that you tow made it here quicker than I thought." The man said closing the book.

"Sorry Uncle Jaime, but there were werewolves chasing us." Trevor got out between breaths.

The man's – Jaime's – face hardened at the mention of the wolves.

"Did they follow you in?"

"No, but I don't think it will be long." Farren stated. He had somewhat caught his breath back. Trevor looked at him questioningly. Farren just shrugged.

"Since we can't do the spell here, and there are werewolves prowling around the shop. I am going to have to cloak the three of us." Trevor's uncle opened a drawer to take out a knife.

He drew it across his palm while whispering some words in Latin. The blood took on a bluish hue. He dipped two fingers – his forefinger and middle – in the pool of blood in his left hand. He walked to Trevor fingers raised. Farren wrinkled his nose at the sight of the discolored blood and the thought of blood (someone else's at that) touching him. He wrote some symbol that contained a backwards 'L' and squiggle going through the middle on Trevor. He finished the symbol with two little wisps branching of the top of the 'L' going to the left. Farren expected the boy to disappear right away, but he didn't. However, the longer Farren looked at him the more his brain lost the grip on who or where Trevor was. Like Farren could see him but the moment his eyes moved from him, he forgot. (Which did happen once or twice in the duration of his line of sight being broken by Trevor's uncle.)

The feeling of not want to look at Trevor subsided when Jaime stepped away.

'The spell must no work on one who is already cloaked,' Farren concluded.

He watched with rapt attention as Trevor drew the symbol on his uncle. After he finished, his uncle gave him a tissue to wipe off the blood. His uncle cleaned off his hands the best he could, but there was still bits of dried blood stuck to his skin. Farren noticed that the wound had vanished not even a scar marred the lines of his palm.

"Do we heal fast or is that just the spell?" Farren inquired to the man who had thrown the stained handkerchief into the garbage.

"We heal 3x the rate of a human. It's fast but not extremely so, but spells that require a blood usually have a healing aspect to it so it doesn't leave the castor too terribly drained." His uncle explained.

"Come on. If you were being pursued then the return of your memories is of the upmost importance." Jaime practically dragged the two teens out of his office.


AN: so another chapter. Can you guess who the mystery person is? I'm also debating on whether or not about adding the POV of the other Pack. Things to get ya thinking about next week. Will stiles and the Pack reunite? Will Melissa's Pack strike now knowing Stiles is alive? Or will Scott and company being here prevent her from striking? Will Stiles regain his memories? How will the Pack react to Stiles' new powers and his torture?

Find out next week on Reawakened Chapter 9! (title in the works)

Fandoms_United out~