AN: First big edit up ahead let me know what you guys think of it.

After practice, Scott and Stiles made their way back into the woods to look for Scott's inhaler and have Stiles see the dead body.

"Dude how'd you do that back there?" Scott asked Stiles, "You haven't been practicing have you?"

"I don't know man, it was like – like everything was incredibly focused for me. Like it was all on slow mo or something."

It was as close to an actual explanation as Stiles could come up with at that moment and even it wasn't enough.

"Focused? How much Adderall did you take?"

"None!" Stiles exclaimed, flailing his hands in indignation, "Even if I did, I've been taking that stuff for years, don't you think I would have been Captain already if it was the Adderall?"

Stiles tried to ignore the fact that his first instinct was also to blame all this weird stuff on the drug as well. But unless the anti-ADHD medication suddenly gave him an athletic boost, he doubted it was the culprit.

"And that's not the only weird thing that's happened to me." Stiles continued, "I can hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear, smell things."

"Smell things? Like what?"

Stiles sniffed the air and said, "Like the cherry bubblegum that's at the bottom of your shoe."

Scott frowned but moved to check his right shoe.

"No, your left shoe."

Scott looked at Stiles and when he saw that he was perfectly serious, checked his left shoe. Sure enough, there was pink gum stuck at the bottom of his left shoe. He looked back at Stiles confused and unable to believe that he was right.

"What if it's the bite? Like an infection." Asked Scott trying to get his blush back under control, "Like your body's flooding with adrenaline before it goes into shock or something."

Scott's choice of words pulled a mischievous smile on Stiles' face and he decided to mess with him for a little bit.

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this." Stiles said, "It's a specific kind of infection."

Scott stopped walking, worried about his friend's health, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, yeah I think it's called Lycanthropy." Stiles was sure that Scott would figure it out at that point, but he should've known better. Scott doesn't even watch sci-fi or supernatural movies.

"What's that? Is that bad?" The look on Scott's face and his obvious worry almost made Stiles laugh right there but he reigned it in, knowing that the best was yet to come.

"Oh yeah, it's the worst. But only once a month."

"Once a month?"

"Mhmm on the night of a full moon."

At Scott's inquisitive look, Stiles howled then laughed after Scott hit him on the chest.

"You're the one who heard a wolf howling."

"Something could be seriously wrong with you." Scott said.

"I know! I'm a werewolf!" Stiles was enjoying this way too much, it was just too easy to mess with Scott sometimes.

"Obviously I'm joking." He said, noticing the look of genuine worry on Scott's face.

Scott stopped walking and looked around. He was a bit annoyed by Stiles at the moment. There could be something really wrong with him and here he was making jokes. If Stiles wasn't going to take this seriously then he would, so he decided he was going to ask his mom about Stiles' symptoms when he got home. Maybe she could tell him he was worrying over nothing.

"I could've sworn this was it." He pointed at where he saw the body the previous night, "I was looking for you. The deer came running, I dropped my inhaler, and then I found the body. I remember it was right next to this big stump."

He knelt on the ground to look for his inhaler when Stiles guessed that the killer moved the body. If he did, Scott was just hoping that the inhaler was left behind because he couldn't afford another one. Even though he was getting better at controlling his asthma, the inhaler was still a backup that he kept with him in case he needed it.

Where would he get eighty bucks to buy a new inhaler without letting his mom know he lost his inhaler?

Scott looked around to see if any of the trees looked familiar but even in daylight, the trees all looked the same.

"Maybe you're right." He said, "Let's just go home and -"

"Wait," Stiles interrupted, "I think I know where we are."

Before Scott could ask what he meant, Stiles was already off like a shot.

"Not again," He mumbled, "Stiles! Wait!"

Stiles ran through the woods with a purpose. Scott followed as much as he could. Tripping over roots, dodging branches, and trying not to lose the other boy again. He did not want a repeat of the night before thank you very much. When he finally caught up with Stiles, he was standing in front of an old burned down building.

"Stiles, what the hell man? Why'd you take off like that?"

Stiles was still staring at the building. "Don't you recognize this place?"

"Should I?"

"Scott this is the old Hale Manor. The one that burned down years ago."

Scott looked at the building. Now that Stiles mentioned it, the house did look familiar. It was plastered all over the news after it burned down with the entire Hale family sleeping inside it. He shuddered, why did everything in these woods seem related to death?

His suggestion for them to leave and go home died on his tongue when Stiles started walking to the house.

"Stiles where are you going?"

"I just wanna see inside."

Against Scott's better judgment, he found himself exploring the remains of the old Hale Manor with his best friend.

The Hale Manor was just as burned down and depressing on the inside as it was on the outside. The columns stayed upright, and the roof was still mostly intact, but the walls and the floor showed the damage caused by fire and years of neglect. The biggest damage seemed to be in what used to be the living room. The windows were smashed in and char and dust covered the floor. As he made his way through the front entrance, Scott kept his hands in his pockets, he didn't want to touch anything here. It felt.. well it felt disrespectful for him to treat this place where an entire family died, as if it was a museum. Stiles though, had a different reaction, he almost looked enchanted by the place.

They were making their way up the stairs when an angry voice got their attention.

"Hey!"

The boys turned around and found a dark-haired man in a black leather jacket glaring at them from the front door.

"What are you doing here? This is private property!"

Both boys couldn't take their eyes off the man. Scott because he was intimidated and frankly scared by the stranger, and Stiles because he knew exactly who the guy was. He remembered his dad's investigation into the Hale house fire and he was curious to know what made Derek Hale come back to Beacon Hills after all these years.

"We're just looking for something…" Mumbled Scott.

Derek narrowed his eyes at both of them and threw something at Scott. As if on instinct, Stiles reached out and caught it first before it could hit his best friend in the face. He opened his hands and was shocked to see that it was Scott's inhaler.

"You got what you came here for." Derek said, "Now leave."

Neither of them moved. Still too stunned to see this angry man in front of them.

"Now!" Derek yelled and Stiles finally snapped out of it. He dragged Scott and both of them left the house and Derek Hale.

Stiles looked back at the house. He could still remember the Hales, even though they lived in the woods away from the rest of town, Derek's mother Talia never failed to bond and mingle with the rest of them. When he was a kid and he'd help his mom go grocery shopping, sometimes they would run into Talia Hale and she always had a lollipop or some other treat for him while she talked to his mother about bake sales and birthdays and other things that Stiles couldn't be bothered to pay attention to. He could also vaguely remember the angry, bossy brunette Cora Hale who yelled at him and chased him all over the place after he accidentally knocked over her sand castle in the park.

And then there was Derek. He was only about four or five years older than Stiles and he remembered Derek being an all-around athlete and the town's favorite son. The one they all expected would go into the NBA and put Beacon Hills on the map. Then the fire happened and he just disappeared.

OoOoO

The first thing Stiles did upon getting home was to log on to his computer and fire up Google. It may not have been obvious to Scott but Stiles was also worried about the symptoms he's been experiencing since the animal in the woods bit him. He knew though that he couldn't go to the hospital. Melissa would be there and she would not only lecture him but also tell his father who would find out about his son's late night activities. So he settled for the next best thing and decided to ask good ol' Mr. Google.

He typed in as much of his symptoms as he could without sounding too farfetched. Most of what came up were useless to him. It was all about the different animals with heightened senses and how they use it to either catch their prey or escape from a predator. One article related heightened senses to epilepsy, obviously he wasn't epileptic so that's out.

He kept scrolling down with a bored look on his face, he was starting to think he wasn't going to find anything online. Then he saw this article that made his heart momentarily stop. He knew it wasn't possible but before he knew it, he had already clicked on the link.

Werewolves are humans with the ability to turn into part animal… enhanced senses and fast reflexes that they use to stalk and capture their prey... Their powers and bloodlust are at its peak during a full moon making them extremely dangerous to those around it… These creatures can be turned by either a bite or a scratch from another werewolf and only a silver bullet can kill them.

Panting, he shut down the laptop before he could even finish reading the article. He refused to believe that it was real. Werewolves aren't real. Whatever bit him was a bear or a science experiment gone wrong, not some mythical creature that has the ability to turn him into one of them. It wasn't possible.

"Snap out of it Stiles." He told himself as he paced his room, "You're starting to lose it. Werewolves aren't even real so quit thinking about it. You're fine. You're perfectly –" fine.

He frowned. He got bit and almost mauled by a big animal in the woods the night before and he was perfectly fine. How was he alright? How did he even manage to get away? He remembered reading something about werewolves having faster healing ability two months ago. He knew it wasn't possible, but maybe he should just…

He sat on his bed and slowly reached down to remove the bandage on his leg. When he took it off, he would see an ugly wound that would be his only reminder of that night. Possibly a week from now, he'd get a scar on that spot and he could put all this werewolf nonsense behind him.

The bandage was removed and Stiles' already pounding heart suddenly stopped.

His leg was free of any mark, bite, scratch, or scar that should've been there. It was almost like he was never bitten at all.

OoOoO

Fire. Fire and smoke. Smoke and fire.

They were everywhere. Following him, chasing him, trapping him...killing him.

He looked around for a way out, a way through the fire and smoke. The smoke and fire. He turned and turned and turned and then… there! An open window on the other side of the room.

He was saved!

He ran and then he was climbing over the window seat. One more swing and he was out. Out and safe. Safe from the fire and the smoke. The smoke and the fire.

But he stopped.

Something wasn't right. There was something he had to do.

Something...SomeONE...SOMEONES...

Then his feet were back in the room and he was running again. Out the door and into the hall. He was calling out, screaming something. A name? There's a different door before him, closed too and he knew, he KNEW he had to get in there. He reached out to open it and …

BOOM!

OoOoO

Stiles woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and a scream trapped in his throat. His heart was still racing and he swore he could still feel the heat of the fire on his skin and the smoke in his lungs. It all felt so real. He's never had a dream that felt as intense or as real as that one had been.

He got up and opened his window. The cool evening air did wonders for chasing away the remnants of his nightmare. His skin felt a lot cooler and he could breathe just a little easier. The terror took a little longer to fade. Even with his eyes wide open and knowing one hundred percent that his house wasn't on fire, Stiles still felt the panic and the desperate need to run and douse the fire.

Trying to quell the residual fear in his heart, Stiles went around the house checking on his dad, the stove, outlets, and the dusty fire extinguisher in the hall closet was wiped and moved to the kitchen.

When he was finally calm and secure enough to fall back asleep, Stiles' last thoughts were on his relief that they wouldn't get him and his family now.

He didn't know who they were and by morning he'd completely forgotten about it.

AN: So how was it? What about the little dream sequence?