4.

My entire life had irreversibly changed again after that graduation. Not only had I achieved academic excellence the following year in high school, but I also gained many friends. Most of whom I talk to on a regular basis. Whether that be because we share a class together, sit at the same lunch table, or talk because we have common interests and enjoy spending time together.

Even Scott Mccall. The main protagonist of Teen Wolf and the character who the majority of the shitshow happens around. After transmigrating into the original kid Stiles' body, I hadn't realized until after entering high school, how detrimental my new shift in personality had been for Scott and I's relationship. From being around each other 24/7 to abruptly ending all contact with one another had really hurt Scott.

And it's not as if I didn't feel any of that pain either. It's just, I'd been so focused on the loss of my mother and the feelings surrounding that circumstance, that I never truly looked beyond it. Thankfully, Scott wasn't resentful at all when I spoke to him again for the first time in 5 years. And so much has changed with not only me but him as well.

He'd gone from the shy loner kid who was seemingly so afraid of everything I'd dragged him into, to becoming a young, fit, aspiring Lacrosse player who wasn't horrified of the world anymore. He was still shy in regards to speaking to anyone of the opposite gender though. Not that I'd believed that'd change as well, because he was still someone I knew in fiction, and most of the traits he had at the beginning of the show are still present, even a full year and some change before the series even started.

His haircut was shaggy, loose curls, cut in a bowl-like style. The jawline that I knew would fill out still wasn't symmetrical even in its early stages, large brown eyes, an absolutely radiant and blinding smile, with an innocent and kind personality, exactly as I remembered him from the life previous to this one.

Its. . .still hard to grasp. The knowledge of how so many people will turn out, from Lydia to Jackson to Erica. All people I've known my entire life. Yet half of me sees them as characters, just non-real versions of people acting as them. Fictitious people that have been breathed into life by the vast imagination humankind harbors. And I had the opportunity to change some of it.

To change Lydia's personality from the fake bitch she'd become to embracing herself freely, without caring about how others viewed her. I could've helped Jackson out, made him feel less alone, and truly became a companion to him. Shit, I could've tried to help Erica out as well, I don't think it'd be too hard to become friends with someone when I've amassed so many of them thus far.

Yet, I didn't.

Not just out of fear of rendering all my future knowledge void.

Not because I was incapable of looking past memories about them that hadn't come to fruition yet.

Not because I didn't believe in their ability to change earlier on than they would've.

No.

I didn't help them, because if I don't truly have a lock on the possible events this reality holds, then I'm fucked. Completely, and utterly, fucked.

Because I'm not some supernatural creature with the ability to regenerate flesh and bone. I'm not some incredibly smart genius who can create super-soldier serums and be on par, if not superior to many of the unbelievable races this world has. From kitsunes to werewolves to druids to fucking any mythological creature known to man. Probably. I mean, some of them have to be fake right?

Anyway, I know my limits. I know when I can't - won't - be able to help protect myself and everyone I've grown to care for. Unless I know what's going to happen.

Of course, there's always the possibility my entire reality is an AU version of Teen Wolf, and everything I've tried to do to preserve my knowledge becomes useless and I'm most likely going to die miserably by being ripped in half by Monster Peter Hale in the first season.

Ugh. . . I hate thinking this deeply about things I can never truly know nor control. It's like, playing a game of Jenga with an innumerable number of people and pieces that I can't always keep track of nor see, and yet every action they take is based on the ones you take. An example is me not staying friends with Scott after my mother died and he goes off to make an extra couple of friends that I don't recognize from the show. These two unknown variables have no doubt changed a little bit of the story, even if they don't stick around long enough for it.

And now, I have no idea how drastically and irreversibly things have changed from what I know. It's unfortunate, really, really unfortunate. But understandable. I'm not superhuman. Not yet.

That's all hopefully going to change tonight. Because today is the day the show starts. And right now I'm driving 57 mph in a 40 because I got distracted recounting my experiences since high school started and letting the excitable anxious energy get to me. Nows the time. The moment I've dreamed of. Wished to finally come and appear before me.

It's finally here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly turning the corner in my recently repainted jeep, I keep my speed to about 10 mph, watching for any small children with too much energy at 9:47 p.m. to run out in the middle of the street and get squished under my car. I really don't want that. Murder of a child is horrific, and I'll definitely be tried and scarred for the rest of my life in prison.

Nope. I really don't want that.

Seeing Scott's house in the distance distracts me from my slowly derailing train of thought. Smiling widely, I turn down the Wolfman Jack 102.7 radio station and let my foot up off the acceleration, having my car slide right up to the curb. Making sure to put her in park, roll up the driver's side window, grab my thick Carhartt raincoat from the backseat, and yank my keys from the ignition.

Taking a deep breath of the surprisingly cold summer air I exhale in excitement, unable to keep the joy of this moment slip off my face. Practically skipping up to the two-story house I quickly climb up the side of the roof, the little fence surrounding the porch assisting me. Pulling the hood of my jacket over my head to shield my freshly washed hair from the small downpour overhead, I crouch stealthily on the black tiled roof, scaling the small slope upwards and around the house until I hear the song Be My Television by The Racoons blaring loudly out into the open air.

Taking a peek inside I spot the person I'm looking for, my best pal in the whole wide world, Scott Mccall. Jumping back down off the roof, I decided to steal the original idea my character had and scare the shit out of Scott. Giggling slightly, I bite my fist to quiet down as I hop onto the porch, and step onto a particularly loud piece of wood, making a loud creaking noise that makes Scott instantly turn the running water off upstairs.

Hearing him turn the radio down considerably and run around his room, most likely grabbing a weapon and a shirt, because, you know, it's cold out here and he doesn't have one on. I parkour back up onto the roof, trying to make as little noise as possible, thanking past me for doing all those muscle-ups. They're really coming in handy now.

Breathing into my hands to warm them up as I wait for Scott, I look up into the night sky, right at the moon. Tonight will change everything. Hopefully. If everything pans out how I want it to, Scott and I will get bit by a rabid Peter Hale. And our lives will change completely. Whether that be for better or for worse.

In my case I hope it's for the better, gaining so many positive things like super strength, regeneration, enhanced senses, and faster speed. All of these positives outweigh the negatives like increased anger, supernatural danger, hunters, forced servitude to an alpha and having your free will stripped away because their will becomes your own, eventually. Eventually, being the keyword there.

If I have enough time to adapt and strategize plans on plans to deal with these threats that I know are going to come, then I believe in my own ability to survive. For Scott though, I don't know if he'd like knowing I could've prevented him from becoming a werewolf too, especially if he knew how much I know he hated being one.

All through seasons 1 to 3, it's made painfully obvious how much Scott rejects the bite, wishing it wasn't gifted to him, wishing he could be normal even though he was unique in the fact that he was a True Alpha(Even if he didn't know it at the time). An Alpha that supernaturals of every kind come to for guidance and peace. Wanting to surround themselves with someone so extraordinary. Yet, he still didn't want it.

Eventually though, after he figured out he couldn't get rid of being a werewolf, he embraced his role more freely. Every season following that one shows how much he is growing and adapting as a person. I want that for Scott. I want him to be extraordinary. Whether he wants that for himself or not. I will make him great. Even if he resents me for it later.

Being snapped out of my thoughts by Scott's confused sigh of relief after doing a sweep of the house, I smirk as evil as I can, and hang myself upside down from the roof and say, "Boo." Screaming in a girly fashion, Scott jumps back and readies his bat back for a hit, before stopping and curling slightly into himself, all the tension bleeding from his form, happy I'm not some thief breaking into his home.

However, that relief quickly turns into embarrassment as he knows I'm never going to let him live this one down. "~Ahhhhhhh~ A scary man is attacking me. ~ahhh~." Laughing as I deliver a mock over-the-top high pitch scream, reenacting Scott's reaction to me scaring him in a demeaning way. Of course, I don't mean it, he knows it, I know it. That's why I do it. But it's still funny anyway.

Swinging myself onto the ground floor in a tricky acrobatic maneuver, I land on the railing around the porch and slip as my boots are wet. "AHHHHH-" Falling backward quickly, I grab onto the neatly trimmed bush to my right and try to brace myself as much as possible, only for my fingertips to only graze the bush and my legs to get caught over the railing, leaving me falling against the side of the house instead of the floor.

Groaning from the pain emanating from my back and the feeling of blood rushing to my head, I swing myself upward and over the railing. Shaking my head free of dizziness caused by hanging upside down for so long, I straighten up and walk over to Scott, giving him a big hug, saying, "It's nice to see you, man."

Scott's chuckles fade as he embraces me back tightly, responding with, "Yeah man. It's nice to see you as well." Pulling away from each other after a moment I smile at the confused look he has on as he finishes with, "But why are you here? You could've just called me, I would've picked up."

"Oh, I know, it's just, what I have to tell you doesn't deserve to be said over the phone." Trying to mask my excitement with seriousness obviously doesn't work as I feel my smile nearly split my face in two. Scott begins to smile as well while his eyes start to focus solely on my form while I speak.

While walking around his porch to the stairs I begin saying, "So tonight, while I was making plans for a book club meetup, I overheard my dad talking on the radio with one of his deputies. Apparently, they are bringing in every officer from the Beacon Hills department, even the state police." My words were spoken slowly, making them drawn out and allowing me to reach the stairs while also not divulging everything at once. Turning back to face Scott, I can feel the curiosity coming off him in waves. My excitement only added gasoline to the ever-increasing fire.

Backpedaling for a moment until I turn back around and jump down all three steps, landing firmly on the ground despite the floor being wet from the rain. I keep quiet until Scott's curiosity gets the better of him and he says, "So? Why'd they do all that?" Not turning back to face him I continue walking towards the street, heading in the direction of my car.

"I dunno, I guess you'll just have to find out with me, wontcha Scottie boy." Taking my keys out of my jacket pocket, I dangle them side to side so he can hear the metal clang against itself. "Oh~, come on Stiles, I was trying to get to bed early for Lacrosse tomorrow." He complains, a whine in his voice that children have when they don't get something they want. However, he doesn't stop walking with me, nor does he put the bat back inside his house which would give him an excuse to not go.

Breaking my walk into a half jog I quickly run around the front of my vehicle and inside, not needing to unlock it as I never locked it in the first place. Opening the center compartment and grabbing some gum I keep in there for special occasions only and handing it to Scott as he climbs into the passenger side door. Ignoring the gum I tossed into his lap for a moment to throw the bat behind his seat and buckle himself in, he finally sighs and lays his head back against the rest.

Laughing I throw a piece of gum in my mouth and turn the key in the ignition to start my baby up. Hearing her mighty roar as she beings to function always puts a smile on my face, my love for the vehicle showing even over the littlest things. Yes, it's the same jeep the original Stiles drove. When I was not Stiles I hated this thing, always wondering why Stiles never got rid of it or just drove a different, better operating mechanical machine. However, I now understand why he didn't.

Sentimentality is a massive reason not to let something go. This jeep has been in the family from my mom's side since I could remember. And now that she's gone, it's one of the only things I can tie directly to her. One of the only things beyond tons of clothes Dad hasn't got rid of and pictures I wasn't present for or forgot about. Still, it means something to me. So, I use it as my main form of transportation right now.

Anyways, as I turn on the windshield wipers and crank up the defrost I pull out of my parking spot, merging into the road and towards the direction of the Beacon Hills Preserve. Humming a tune I'd heard on the way here, I turned the radio back on and immediately ditched the old tune for a new one.

Tapping my fingers against the steering wheel as I stopped at a stop sign, I begin to look to the left, looking for any traffic before I turn left onto a busy road. Seeing I'm all clear, I pull out and begin to tell Scott the rest of the story.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods Scott. Mutilated, with indentations of bite marks and claw scratches. Almost like a bear or any animal of considerable size that has claws and teeth. One of the weird things about it though is that the police only found one-half of the body." Right from the get-go Scott immediately stops laying against the headrest, opting to lean on the arm of the seat toward me. He obviously figures out that I wouldn't drag him out in the middle of the woods at night if I thought it was some animal though, at least, I hope he wouldn't assume that. But with how dumb Scott was at the beginning of the show, I wouldn't be surprised.

Turning down the radio to more of a hushed whisper than a concert, I wait for any questions he might throw at me, but when he doesn't say anything, I begin telling the story in greater detail.

"The bottom half of the body, the legs that have been found, are believed to be originating from a 20-year-old girl given their texture and muscle density despite their mutilations. I haven't seen any of the records so I can't give my input on whether I believe this information to be true or false, but, I know that the people down at the coroner's office do their work well, so I'm believing that the information they believe is true, is just that. True. Something, incredibly weird to me though, is that even with an animal attacking a human they didn't eat any of the legs. No pieces of flesh ripped off, bitten into yes, but ripped out and presumably eaten? There's no evidence of that happening.

Another weird thing is how did they rip the human in half? What animal large is large enough to do such a thing and pick up the torso half to carry back to its home? Unless they just ate the top half of the body, intestines and all. It just doesn't make sense. Unless these patterns belong to an animal that I just don't know about, which, mind you, is very likely. I haven't done any research before coming over, but I don't think such a predator has been living in the preserve for long, because if it did before now, then there would be a lot more attacks happening to all the hunters and pedestrians that go into that area of the town."

Taking a breather from my long, thoughtful rant, I completely turn off the radio because despite its light sounds, it is still distracting me slightly from my train of thought, and I don't need that right now. Deciding to be completely silent the rest of the way, I focus on everything I need to do, stay close to Scott, don't get caught, don't die. Should be easy enough right?

Clenching my jaw as I pull in front of a Beacon Hills PRESERVE sign with a No Entry After Dark tidbit attached at the bottom, I grip the steering wheel tightly, trying to remember where my train of thought was going before I divulged a large amount of information to Scott that I didn't mean to do, and most of that info. will probably make him nervous about potentially being eaten by a big monster. Ugh, I really need to learn to stop talking sometimes.

Relaxing my grip on the steering wheel and turning to face Scott for the first time since we got in the car together, I smile while biting my lower lip, making sure to turn off the defroster and windshield wipers, no need to have them on until we return. Chuckling slightly I say seriously to him, "So, long story short, either one of two things happens. One, we go into the preserve and get caught by my dad before finding the body. Or, two, we get lost in the woods and search for the other half of the body, find it, and immediately try to contact my father to let him know. Alright?"

Scott nods while looking slightly apprehensive, most likely not wanting to get in trouble with my dad. Because he knows that if my dad finds us doing something we ain't supposed to, he'll tell Scott's mom, and she'll set him straight. Opening his mouth Scott looks like he's searching for something off to the side of me, before snapping his gaze back to mine saying, "What happens if the animal finds us though?"

"It won't," I say, my words imbued with a conviction that startles even myself slightly. It seems to have calmed him down as well, most likely finding my belief so convincing that he won't even question why I believe in it.

Letting out a breath of nervous tension filling my body, I turn away from him and turn the car off, yanking my keys from the ignition immediately afterward. Hopping out and onto the soft ground beneath me, I can hear Scott copying my movement over the patter of the rain on my car and hood. Pulling my hoodie tighter around my head, I hear Scott curse and know he's probably doing the same after being pelted once exiting the protection the roof of my car provided.

Shutting the door and locking it, I hit the lock button one more time just to be sure, then I headed toward the chain blocking vehicles from entering the premises, and walked over it, ready for anything this forest can throw at us, anything.

(Unedited, let me know if you notice any mistakes in the grammar and whatnot. Have a good day!)