𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙒𝙊
ミ★ ( clairvoyant, act one ) ★彡

     Stiles considered checking himself into Eichen House. He knows that Rory isn't there, but his brain just keeps telling him that she is. He's honestly thinking that it's a strange version of survivor's guilt. He was glad that Scott had asked him to help him find his inhaler, but, then regretting agreeing to it instantly when he realised that he had lost it in the woods—the same woods that Rory was found in. He's sure he's going to have a heart attack if his brain tells him that she's there; in between the trees staring at him like it's a scene out of a horror movie.

They had just crossed a creek in the nature preserve, their feet still managed to get wet despite trying to avoid it, "When the hell did you get so good at lacrosse?" Stiles asked, "Last time I checked, you couldn't even catch something large with your hands, let alone a small ball with a lacrosse net."

"I—I don't know what it was." Scott answered him, "It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And, that's not the only weird thing. I—I can hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear; smell things."

Stiles looked at him strangely, "Smell things? Like what?"

Scott took a smell of the air, thinking of what he could smell, "Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket."

Stiles made a face, thinking Scott was crazy because he knows there's no mint mojito gum in his pocket. He knows they're empty despite the car keys in his pocket, "I don't even have any mint mojito—" He mumbles as he checks the inner breast pocket of his blazer and finds, much to his surprise, that there is a single piece of folded-up mint mojito gum, just as Scott sensed.

Scott raises both of his arms to the side as if to say. Stiles thinks to himself for a moment before he speaks, "So, all this started with the bite?"

"What if it's like an infection? Like, my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?" Scott asks, concerned that there is something wrong with him.

Stiles smirked, "You know what? I actually think I've heard of this—it's a specific kind of infection." He starts.

Scott blinks with wide eyes, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called lycanthropy." He answers, trying to hold back his laughter.

Not dealing that Stiles was messing with him, Scott begins to panic, "What's that? Is that bad?" He asked.

Stiles nodded, pursing his lips, still trying to not laugh, "Oh, yeah, it's the worst. But, only once a month."

"Once a month?"

Stiles hummed in agreement, "On the night of the full moon." He says before he howls like a wolf. Scott shoved him away in annoyance and Stiles began to giggle in amusement, "Hey, you're the one who heard a wolf howling!"

"Hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me!" Scott exclaimed.

"I know! You're a werewolf!" Scott glared at him for his joke, and Stiles relents, "Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But, if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's a full moon."

Scott stood walking and looks around, frowning when he doesn't see anything remarkable where they're standing, "No, I—I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler..."

"Maybe the killer moved the body?" Stiles suggested.

"If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are, like, eighty bucks." Scott mumbled as he continued to look for the inhaler, just in case it got blown away by the wind to a different spot.

Suddenly, a man in a black leather jacket and deep scowl on his face appeared in front of them, "What are you doing here?" He asked them, and the two boys jump slightly but didn't answer, "Huh? This is private property."

"Uh, sorry, man. We didn't know." Stiles apologised.

The man's attention was focused on Scott, who picks up where Stiles left off to try to relieve the tension, "Yeah, we were just looking for something, but..." The man glared at him and Scott loses his nerve to continue and drops the subject, "Uh... forget it."

The man then tosses Scott's inhale at him before turning and heading back the way he came without a word, giving Scott one last look and seemingly paying Stiles no attention whatsoever.

Scott sighs and gets ready to turn back the opposite direction, "Um... alright, come on, I gotta get to work."

Before Scott can move, Stiles grabs Scott arm to physically stop him from walking away, "Dude, that was Derek Hale!" When Scott looks at Stiles blankly, Stiles' expression becomes incredulous, "You remember, right? He's only like a few years older than us."

Scott frowns, not recalling anyone by that name, "Remember what?"

"His family. They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago." Stiles informed him, "Considering it's an arson case, it's gone cold. Investigation's still going and they're still waiting for people to come forward with information."

     Scott looked both intrigued and concerned, "I wonder what he's doing back..." He trailed, thinking out loud.

     "Come on." Stiles scoffed, thinking that nothing good could possibly come out of Derek Hale being back in town, before walking away.

It was after practice when Stiles headed straight for his bedroom, where he began researching werewolves on his computer. Scott had portrayed inhuman like qualities while playing that gave Stiles a hint that something was wrong with him. Scott couldn't play that good—the kid practically had two left feet—but, at practice today, it was as if he was a professional player that was born with those skills.

His online search started with articles on lycans, before he moves on to articles about wolfsbane. Stiles then moves on to reading an old, battered book titled 'The History of Lycanthropy', before going back to the computer and searching online for articles about silver as a weakness of werewolves.

Finally, Stiles, looking concerned about what he's read so far, prints out an old sketch of a hunter aiming a crossbow at a transformed werewolf.

Suddenly, the sound of knocking at Stiles' door startles him so badly that he nearly falls out of his chair, revealing that the floor is covered in computer printouts from his research.

Stiles thinks for a moment on what to do next, ultimately closing his laptop and walking over to open his bedroom door. When he finds Scott in the doorway, he sighs in relief before allowing Scott entry, "Get in." Scott walks into Stiles' bedroom just as Stiles closes the door, "You gotta see this thing. I've been up all night reading—websites, books, all this information."

Scott sets his backpack on the floor by Stiles' bed, his eyes widening when he sees all the paper covering the floor and desk, "How much Adderall have you had today?"

"A lot." He answered before shaking his head and changing the subject while Scott takes a seat on Stiles' bed, "Doesn't matter, okay? Just listen."

"Oh, is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?" Scott asked.

"No, they're still questioning people. Even Derek Hale." Stiles answered him, but that wasn't what he was going to tell him.

Scott recognises the name, "Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day?"

"Yeah!" Stiles exclaims before he remembers that he has gotten off track, "Yes. But, that's not it, okay?" He tries to get the conversation back to the point while Scott frowned in confusion, "Remember the joke from the other day?"

Stiles looks nervous about what he's going to say next, which only gets worse when Scott shakes his head, not knowing where Stiles is going with this, "Not a joke anymore. The wolf; the bite in the woods... I started doing all this reading." Stiles stands to his feet, already sidetracked from his original point, "Do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?" Scott asked.

"It's a signal, okay? 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 have been nearby—maybe even a whole pack of them." Stiles continued.

Scott's eyes widened, "A whole pack of wolves?"

"No—werewolves." Stiles corrects.

Scott begins to get irritated, thinking that Stiles is just trying to play some elaborate joke as he stands to his feet, "Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour."

Scott picks up his backpack and gets ready to leave, but Stiles grabs him by the arm with one hand and presses his other against his chest so that he's forced to stay where he is while he tries to convince Scott that he's telling the truth, "I saw you on the field today, Scott, okay? What you did wasn't just amazing, alright? It was impossible."

Scott tries to shrug off Stiles' accusation and once again tries to leave, "Yeah, so I made a good shot."

Stiles grabbed Scott's backpack and tosses it onto his bed so dig around inside of it for something, "No, you made an incredible shot! I mean, the way you moved; your speed; your reflexes? You know, people can't just suddenly do that overnight. And there's the vision, and the senses—and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore."

"Okay!" Scott exclaims, "Dude, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow."

Stiles become panicked, "Tomorrow?! What? No!" He stammered, "The full moon's tonight. Don't you get it?"

"What are you trying to do?" Scott snaps, "I—I just made first line. I—I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"I'm trying to help!" Stiles yells before taking in a deep breath, continuing with a softer tone of voice, "You're cursed, Scott. You know, and it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."

"Bloodlust?"

"Yeah, your urge to kill." Stiles elaborates.

"I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles." Scott says irritably, glaring at him.

Stiles frantically grabs The History of Lycanthropy book off of his desk and starts reading aloud from it in an attempt to convince Scott that what he was saying is the truth, "You gotta hear this: 'the change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse'. Alright? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date." Stiles stands to his feet and starts digging through Scott's backpack again, "I'm gonna call her right now."

"What are you doing?" Scott yelps.

Stiles grabs Scott's phone from his bag and starts to pull up Allison's number, "I'm canceling the date."

"No! Give it to me!" Scott grabs the phone out of Stiles' hand, dropping it on the floor before shoving Stiles against the wall and raising his right fist, preparing to punch him in the face.

However, after taking a deep breath, Scott lets go of Stiles and instead throws his desk chair across the room before coming back to himself. Stiles looks horrified, and Scott immediately begins to regret what he's just gone. He looks at the floor with a shameful expression before muttering to Stiles under his breath, "I'm sorry. I—I gotta go get ready for that party."

Scott picks up his phone and his backpack and heads for the door, giving Stiles one last apologetic look before he goes, "I'm sorry."

Scott leaves, and Stiles lets out a long breath of relief. Still clearly upset, Stiles roughly picks up his desk chair and sets it right, freezing in horror when he sees that the leather cover on the chair has four long slits on the back that look like claw marks.

     Stiles found himself at the hospital. With Scott off at Lydia Martin's party, Stiles was left to worry about him and everyone else around him. While it was just a theory that Scott was a werewolf, the claw marks on his chair just made it a little too real than he'd like—it didn't feel like just a theory anymore.

     And while he was thinking about things that are real; his mind was brought back to Rory. He hadn't gone to visit her yet, after he had been telling himself he would for two days now. Seeing her everywhere kind of freaked him out and he tried to avoid going to actually see her.

He had been researching on the internet about ghosts and apparitions, and what it means while he was researching about werewolves for Scott. He ignored all of the warnings and guidance that said he should probably check himself in to see a mental health specialist as it's usually a sign of schizophrenia before he got to the supernatural stuff.

According to those websites, it usually meant if one was seeing a ghost or apparition, that they weren't fully crossed over to the other side—which in this case was true because Rory was in a coma—but it also meant that they had unfinished business, and something that needed to be heard.

And, considering he saw Rory mouth 'help me', Stiles began to believe the latter to be true. The question remained as to what it was she needed help with.

     Stiles didn't really like hospitals. They reminded him too much of the time when his mom got sick. He usually tries to avoid them all together but he lucked out with his best friend's mom being a nurse, and the two would always be there waiting for her to finish her shift before she could take them home when his dad was working late.

     Melissa McCall was an angel. She was too nice for her own good, maybe that's why she became a nurse; to help people. She was always kind to him when his mom was going through treatment.

     "Hey, Stiles." Melissa smiled once she saw Stiles from behind the nursing station, "What are you doing here?" She asked, continuing to do her paperwork, "I thought you would've been at that party tonight."

     Stiles rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Um, I wasn't invited." He informed her and she slightly grimaced, feeling guilty that she had rubbed in the fact that Scott got invited to a party and he didn't, "But, I came to see Rory."

     Melissa's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to who it was before she realised he was talking about Aurora Carter, "Ah, Rory." She clicked her tongue, honestly glad to see that someone from her school was visiting her—Melissa was beginning to feel bad and think that maybe she didn't have any friends that cared about her, "She's just down the hall, third door to the left."

     "Thanks." Stiles tapped the desk before walking over to the room that Melissa had pointed him to.

Seeing the room that had Rory's name on it, he entered it. It hurt him a little bit to see her hooked up to all of the machines; the breathing tube down her throat, all of the IVs in her arms and the tabs on her chest to monitor her heart rate and blood pressure. It made her condition look so much worse, but after seeing her state when he found her in the woods, he's not surprised she is connected to all of the machines to keep her alive.

Her room was bare. There weren't that many flowers or bears or balloons in it; there were a few on the windowsill—Stiles assumed from her parents. But, he expected the room to be filled with brightness and well wishes to help encourage her out of her coma.

"Hey, Rory..." He isn't really sure what to say because she can't respond. All he can head in response is the steady sound of the machines beeping, "I don't know what to say. I feel like I've been going out of my mind. Either I'm going crazy, or you said 'help me'. So, I'm here. Tell me what you want from me."

He just heard beeping and he scoffed at himself. He was talking to himself—he really had gone crazy.

His eyes then spotted the chart sheet at the end of her bed and he picked it up to inspect it. The list of injuries made him want to throw up, there were so many. Whoever—or, whatever—did this to her really wanted to hurt her. Then, the list of medications that had to be given to her every couple of hours to keep her alive and internally functioning rang alarm bells in his head.

He put the chart away. He didn't want to look at it anymore. He didn't even know why it was so affecting him so much; he barely knew her. They passed each other in the hallways at school a couple of times, and probably even exchanged notes for some classes in the past. But, he didn't know her.

And, he didn't think she was the type of girl that would have someone try to kill her. She was just a normal teenage girl.

"Who would want to hurt you?" He whispered, looking back at her comatose state, completely unaware that Rory stood behind him, a hand over her mouth to cover the sound of her crying as all she could do was watch.