If someone told you that the air in your lungs was actually water and water was actually air, how would you respond? If someone said that schizophrenics are actually the only people on the planet who are really in touch with reality, would you believe that you were the one out of touch? And if some girl you never remember ever meeting before now told you that she had met you in a dream, what would be your reaction?

That last question was the one I was currently posing to myself because now we were all sitting in the back of Deaton's office, in a room with long cold silver tables and dim lighting. Deaton and Scott were standing and I was sitting in a chair that they had pulled out for me; to this point I still wasn't sure if it was merely an act of simple courtesy or some unspoken term of interrogation. I let myself believe it was not the later.

My eyes moved to Derek who was leaning against the furthest wall. He hadn't changed facial expressions, hadn't moved his eyes from on me the entire time we had been in here. I told them the same story I told Isaac about why I was in town, but then came that whole bit about the part of me knowing Derek, which was a bit more complicated than I was really looking forward to explaining. I couldn't decide if I thought it was completely idiotic and dangerous, or it was harmless to tell them about my dreaming but I had already gotten myself into this mess by blurting out that I knew Derek. I mean, could you really blame me? When the guy who's been randomly stopping in on your dreams ever since you turned suddenly walks out from a back room in front of you in real life this time, wouldn't you be shocked too? I shifted my feet underneath me uncomfortably. Besides, it was kind of nice telling the truth for a change.

"I still don't know why I keep dreaming about the things that I do." I said, picking up where I had left off. "A lot of the time the message isn't clear, if there even is one. I mean, I'm sure there must be, it's just that sometimes it's pretty hard to decipher what the dream is trying to tell me, because a lot of its metaphorical." I looked back to Deaton and Scott who were listening intently.

"I can't control it, but it's like I'm there- in the dream. Whatever happens in my head happens to me in real life but I'm always asleep in my bed. I never actually go anywhere, except mentally." Derek's arms were crossed high on his chest in front of him, which I knew was some sort of defensive stance. "And as far as I have been able to tell, there's always a connection to my dreams and reality. So I guess there's always some sort of message, even if it's only a small one. It's like…" I trailed off, trying to find the right way to describe it.

"A prediction of the future." Deaton said suddenly, drawing all of our attention. My eyes widened slightly.

"You don't… You don't know what I am, do you?" I asked. It was clear beyond my previous knowledge that Deaton was a wise man who knew a lot more about any of this than anyone would have initially guessed. Chewing around on his words before he spoke, Deaton said, "I might have a theory. Have you ever heard of the Greek God, Morpheus?" None of us really said anything, only I shook my head slowly, curiosity gripping my throat.

Deaton stood up straighter and looked down as he began speaking. "Morpheus is the God of Dreams. It was said that he was responsible for the dreams of the people who, when in his arms, would enjoy a deep, sound sleep. But he would make it so they could also dream about seeing their futures or other upcoming events. Being the master of dreams, Morpheus had the ability to create images and visions to send to the people, to shape them and give form to the creatures that lived only within their wildest imaginations."

Deaton studied me briefly.

"So what does that mean?" Derek asked in an impatient tone, obviously preferring to get right to the point rather than giving an explanation first such as Deaton was. "Are you saying that she's some sort of Greek God?"

"Morpheus also had the power to take any form he chose." He continued, ignoring Derek. "Sometimes the form of a human. An animal. A wolf."

"You're not saying I'm some sort of Greek God, are you?" I asked reiterating Derek's question.

"Not exactly, but a disciple? Well, that's what my theory is. I've heard of it happening; of werewolves having out of the ordinary abilities besides what the healing, the strength, the speed. In the eyes of the public, werewolves themselves are but a legend, a myth. A product of fantasy. Something out of," He looked each one of us in the eyes. "Out of a dream."

He turned back to me. "This isn't something to be overlooked. You're right, your dreams are all messages, and they can either be used to aid in the outcome of the future or against what is to be."

My eyes were scanning the floor in front of me. So I was right, these dreams did mean something. But a disciple of a God? I was having a hard enough time being a high school student for crying out loud, and now I was just finding out I was the disciple of some mythological Greek God?

"Werewolves were given a form here on Earth out of a dream under the hands of Morpheus. You are the one who dreams, of the dreamt."

"How." I blurted. "How did-" I cut myself short. Was this the reason that Deucalion had turned me? Had he known the night he found me that I would be the one with ultimate insight into the web of werewolves? It made sense but… that would mean that essentially he had been… using me.

"Why was I the one? What makes me special?" I asked. I could feel the desperation stinging in my eyes. I needed to know. I needed to know if this was the reason Deucalion had turned me.

"That's where my second theory comes in." Deaton explained. "This isn't my own theory; it has been something discussed within the werewolf community for decades but as of late was tossed aside after being labeled as nothing more than a pretentious myth, which obviously we know now is not the case. There's no real way of predicting whether or not someone will possess these out of the ordinary abilities before they are turned, just like there is no real way or knowing whether or not the bite itself will be successful. However, there is a rumor, if you will, that these abilities are given to those who lack what they gain before they are turned. So to gain the ability of dreams, it would have been given to someone who was lacking a feeling of control and stability in their former life. Someone who already took more comfort in their dreams than they did in the real world."

Scott turned his head from Deaton to me.
"I, um…" This was a lot of information to take in all at once. So Deucalion couldn't have had any definite idea that I was going to end up with the insight that I had, but he had to have had some sort of general idea. Take a human girl who has lost everything in life so she had no choice but to focus on the one in her mind, the one where everything was still okay and she still had a home and friends and parents, and I was a pretty good formula for what I turned out to be.

"I guess that makes sense…" I said after a long pause.

"Is that why they sent you away?" My eyes met Scott's.

"What?"

"Is that why your pack did what they did? Why they sent you away? I mean, it sounds like what you have is pretty powerful. They probably were trying to protect that as well as you."

I blinked. This was a perfect cover story and it was being dropped right into my lap. Scott had essentially created the idea for me that I was a pertinent member of my pack because of my abilities although I was merely a beta. Although at the moment my mind was struggling with the idea that I was a pertinent member of Deucalion's pack because he could use my abilities to his own personal advantage. After all, I didn't know the full story of anything before I got here. If there was a full story to be known. I shook the idea from my brain. He didn't know. He couldn't of known. Deucalion turned me because I had nothing else in my human life worth living as a human for.

Or was that exactly the reason he had tuned me. Because I had nothing in my human life which in turn meant that I had this unique ability to gain as a wolf.

"Yeah…" I said. "They said that, that I would be safer. Away from the hunters."

The entire time I was speaking, it was like a weight was building up on my chest. A weight of lies and uncertainty and doubts of whether or not those lies were even for the right reason.

But then I thought of something else. Of Derek. "But that doesn't explain why I've seen you before in my dreams." I said in a quite tone.

"Everything is a message." Deaton reiterated. "And if it isn't clear now, in due time we will without a doubt find out."

I walked into the house, not stopping to take off my shoes or drop my bag. I walked right through the house and to the door that I knew Deucalion would be behind; the door of his office. I knocked once and didn't bother waiting for a response before I threw open the door and walked in. Sure enough, he was sitting there, hands folded on his desk, like he had been expecting me the entire time.

"I need to know something." I blurted, stoic. "I need to know if you knew I would be able to see things through my dreaming. Before you turned me."

Deucalion smiled. "You talked to Deaton."

"Did you or didn't you know." I asked again, determined to get my answer.

"I had an idea." He responded. "You were a very sad girl when I found you. There wasn't a lot in your human life you didn't aspire to escape from. Your parents-"

"Don't talk about my parents." I'm not sure why I had all of a sudden become so defensive, let alone unafraid of the consequences of how I was speaking. I just needed answers.

"Someone who already dreams by day surely would have made the perfect base for a werewolf with the ability to dream twice as creatively at night."

"And so here I am." I said, dropping my arms by my sides. "Your little insider."

It only made me angrier when he smiled wider at that. "You're using me." I accused.

"We're using each other." Deucalion said. "I haven't done a thing to you that you haven't asked of me. You wanted a better life, I gave it to you. You wanted freedom and I gave you that too."

"I'm not free, you're only using me to keep tabs on the other side. Tabs they don't even know are going to happen yet! I'm only watching them in the present so I can better understand their futures."

"You're not a dumb girl, Kalel." He said. "But you're just as much of a part of this as I am. After today has anybody gotten hurt by the actions you have taken?"

I churned around in my brain. "Well, no, but-"

"But nothing. What you are is powerful, but unless you make the first move, everything you think, everything you see, is simply just that. A thought. A prediction. You have the ability to stop and create as your own free will pleases."

"So then why am I doing this?" I asked. "I'm not killing people for you and I'm not tricking any of them. Why have me at Beacon Hills High at all?"

I watched as Deucalion rose to his feet and made his way over to me. I stared coldly at the hand he had placed on my shoulder.

"You're keeping the peace." He said. "You know what is happening within these walls and you know what is happening behind theirs. In actuality, you are helping all of us."

I thought about what he was saying. It wasn't like I was killing anyone.

"I'm not using you so much as you are using your own abilities for a greater good."

"And if I continue doing this, if I keep acting like I'm on their side as much as I am on ours, no one is going to get hurt?" I asked hesitantly. There was that smile again. I felt his grip tighten slightly on my shoulder.

"Kalel, there are no sides. Only boundaries. If Scott and the others have made it sound as though we are against one another, well then they are the ones who have you fooled. I have not done a single thing to harm any of them."

The last sentence was ringing in my ears.

"Alright..." I said, calming myself at last.

Trust is a funny little thing, the way some people give it and revoke it upon making a mistake, and the way others choose to only give it out only when they see fit. Trust was something I was slowly earning from Deucalion and something I was questioning my own of towards him. I have not done a single thing to harm any of them.

But there's one more thing about trust. When you've had trouble with it your entire life, the first thing you want to believe when someone offers it out to you is to believe it. And I believed Deucalion. Not because I thought he was right. Not yet. But because what else was there to put my faith in?