Before heading home, Stiles stopped by the local library and checked out several books that had anything to do about werewolves. If there was a possibility that he was one, then he didn't want his searches to be tainted by the ridiculous werewolves in the Twilight series.

All afternoon Stiles read everything he could about werewolves, aconite, the full moon, and silver bullets. The longer he read, the worse he felt because all of his symptoms seemed to match the ones werewolves got.

If he was a werewolf, there was only one way to test it. Taking a knife from the kitchen downstairs, Stiles pressed the blade to his open palm and tried not to flinch when a long, deep cut has been made. Apparently, being a werewolf didn't make him immune to pain. He turned on the faucet and washed the blood off his hands. He watched in horror as the skin knit itself back together and the cut closed right before his eyes.

He looked at his unblemished hand and started freaking out. He could feel himself breathing unevenly. His palms started sweating and he was pretty sure he was about to have a panic attack. Closing his eyes, he tried to control his breathing and filled his mind with the look on his dad's face when he told him he was getting good at lacrosse.

Once he could breathe normally again. He got out his phone and called Scott to come over. Tonight was the full moon and he knew it would be dangerous for everyone around him. He needed Scott's help in tying him up and making sure he didn't hurt anyone.

He went back up to his room to internalize all the werewolf-y things he just found out. He had no idea how to proceed from here but he was going to try. He wouldn't let this turn him into a killer.

A knock on his door broke him out of his reverie and he opened it to find a smiling Scott McCall on the other side of the door.

"Look, I've been reading websites, books, all of these –"

"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked, amused.

"None Scott! But that's not the point. Okay? Just listen."

Scott threw his bag on the paper covered floor and sat on Stiles' bed, "Is it about the body? They find out who did it?"

"No, but that's not it okay!" Stiles flailed his hands around to emphasize his point.

"What then?" Stiles now had Scott's full attention. Scott wondered if this was when Stiles would tell him about how he suddenly got good at lacrosse.

"Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore." There was a hint of defeat at the end of Stiles' statement.

Scott didn't seem to get it so Stiles continued, "The wolf. The bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading, do you even know why a wolf howls?

Stiles stood up feeling agitated. He didn't know if it was Scott's stupidity or the fact that the full moon was hours away, but he was getting restless. So he started pacing.

"It's a signal. When a wolf's alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could've been nearby, maybe even a whole pack of 'em!"

"A whole pack of wolves?"

"No. Werewolves." Somehow just saying the word and imagining a whole pack of them in the woods made Stiles' skin itch and his heart beat just a little bit faster but he shook it off.

Scott on the other hand was getting mad. He thought Stiles was going to come clean right now, and here he was talking to him about werewolves!

"Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour."

Stiles pulled him back before he could walk out, "You saw me on the field today Scott, I was good. Too good. So incredibly good that it's very unlikely that it was me who made those shots."

"So you made a good shot." Scott deflated and went to get out again. He didn't know what Stiles was trying to do, but it was starting to feel like Stiles was boasting about his newfound talent on the field.

"No! I made an incredible shot." Stiles took Scott's bag and threw it back on the bed, "Way better than what I was able to do last year and even better than Jackass Jackson! People can't just suddenly do that overnight."

"I know." Scott muttered thinking about what Jackson said but Stiles ignored him.

"Then there's the visions, the senses, and don't you think it's weird that I haven't used Adderall since that night in the woods?"

"Okay dude!" Scott stopped him, "I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow."

"What? No!" Stiles cried, "The full moon's tonight! Don't you get it?"

"What are you trying to do?" Scott asked him heatedly, "I just made first line with my best friend. I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me. Everything in my life is somehow perfect, why are you trying to ruin it?"

Scott didn't know it, but his words that afternoon would stay with Stiles for a long time.

"I need your help."

And those four words would haunt Scott for weeks since that day.

"I'm cursed Scott." Stiles said finally saying what was happening to him without using the word itself.

"Scott, tonight's my first full moon. You gotta help me not kill anybody alright? And you can't do that if you're out there making googoo eyes at Allison."

Stiles stood up and looked around Scott's bag for his phone.

"I'm gonna call her right now." Stiles said once he found Scott's phone.

"What are you doing?" Scott sighed

"I'm cancelling the date –" Stiles didn't get to dial Allison's number before Scott tried to grab the phone from him.

But Stiles was already feeling angry from both Scott and the full moon. So when Scott reached for the phone, Stiles grabbed his hand and pushed him to the bed. In a flash, Stiles was on top of Scott, his fist drawn back ready to give his best friend the beating of his life. His breathing was fast and erratic and before his fist could connect with Scott's jaw, he screamed and punched the bed instead.

Breathing hard, Stiles got off Scott and tried to reign in his temper. He looked at his hands then at his wide-eyed friend who looked at him with something akin to fear.

"I'm sorry."

This time when Scott left, Stiles didn't try to stop him. Ashamed and angry with himself for letting his werewolf side take over so much that he almost hit his best friend.

With or without Scott's help, Stiles would have to figure out a way to keep himself from hurting anybody that night.

OoOoO

As the sun set on his first full moon, he made sure that he had everything he thought he needed to contain himself. His left hand was handcuffed to the radiator in his room and his plan was to just wait 'til the sun comes up. His dad was already working at the station all night so he wouldn't have to worry about hurting him.

As the full moon started to rise, he could feel this throbbing pain at the back of his head that just kept getting worse. Next came the tingling in his ears and fingertips, like all the blood was rushing there wanting to get out. He could feel his blood getting hotter and his breathing becoming laboured. The pain only intensified and spread throughout his body when the clouds covering the full moon parted and the moon's light reached Stiles' room.

He let out an agonizing cry as he felt the bones on his back break and shift. His jaw felt like it was being ripped in half as his teeth became longer, stronger, and sharper. His nails felt like they were being pulled slowly with pliers as his nails turned into vicious claws. He could feel his very heart get bigger and work faster adjusting to the intense physical changes going on in his body in under a minute. The physical pain was the worst thing he's ever felt but it was nothing compared to the intensity of his emotions.

He wanted to get out. To hunt. He didn't belong in here. He had to get out!

He knew that this was just the wolf in him. That he should do something to stop himself from letting it take over. But all that kept going through his head was his fight with Scott, how he looked at him with fear in his eyes, how heartbroken he was when Scott didn't believe him.

He snarled and scratched at the radiator holding him captive. He had to get out!

Somewhere in the back of his head, where Stiles' humanity was all but forgotten as the wolf took over, he remembered those spy movies where the guy breaks his own thumb to get out of handcuffs. Growling, he broke his left thumb and slipped out of the handcuffs. He didn't even feel the pain, too ecstatic that he was finally free.

He jumped out his window and howled at the full moon, welcoming it as a man would embrace his long lost lover, before running on all fours.

He could feel everything around him. The noises of the birds and squirrels on the trees as they ran away from him. He could smell the scrumptious meal laid out on the neighbour's dinner table. He marvelled at the feel of the earth on his bare feet as he ran in the woods. At that moment he felt invincible, he felt powerful.

Then a new scent hit him. Something that smelled of baby powder and freshly washed clothes.

"Mr. Wiggles." It was a child's voice calling out for his favourite teddy bear that he left at the park. The five-year-old boy snuck out of the house because he couldn't sleep without Mr. Wiggles and his parents didn't want to help him look for it until the sun came up.

Stiles honed in on his prey standing in the middle of the street directly in front of him. The kid hasn't seen him yet because he was hidden in the trees. All Stiles could think about at that moment was how good it would feel to break those little arms. To feel his claws sinking into the child's heart and bathing himself in his blood.

"Mr. Wiggles is that you?" The little boy looked into the trees following the noise that the newly bit werewolf was making.

As the boy got closer, Stiles readied to pounce. Ready to claim his first kill.

AN: Honestly my favorite chapter so far. How do you guys like it?

Could this be the moment that changes the color of Stiles' eyes?

Updated: June 13, 2021