Hi, my name is ShiningOmicron. This is just something that came to me while watching the show. I'm new to writing for the Teen Wolf fandom so let me know if someone is out of character or anything like that.

I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own the MTV show Teen Wolf. This is a fan-made story and nothing more. Please, for the love of god, don't sue me.

Stiles felt different today, and not the good kind of different either. He felt as if something was going to happen, and that something was going to happen to him.

It's rare that Stiles felt that way; change never seemed to happen to him. The lives of the people around him seemed to change, though. Scott, his best friend, is a werewolf; Jackson, his old bully, is a lizard-like thing; and Lydia, his former crush, is…whatever the hell she is (admittedly, Stiles isn't close to the last two people mentioned, but that isn't the point).

And Stiles was always there, helping out as much as he could and getting absolutely none of the credit or respect he deserved. He did all the research needed to handle all the supernatural occurrences in Beacon Hills, which happened to be a lot lately, and did anyone care? No.

Stiles' research wasn't as easy as Scott and Derek thought it was; it wasn't just typing in words in Google and picking out the first couple of articles. No, most of the information, the useful information, couldn't even be found on the internet. It was usually hidden in archaic books, found in the deepest bowels of the Beacon Hills local library. Some of it was even in extremely old languages (you'd be lucky to find anything accurate on werewolves that wasn't in Greek).

But Stiles did all this work without complaint. Why? Because despite how much hell this town has given him, he loved Beacon Hills. This is the place where he grew up, this is the place where his mother grew up. Beacon Hills was his home, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure his image of this town isn't tarnished.

He also loved Scott (in a brotherly way, of course). Why else would anyone put up with Scott's crap? If it had been anyone else, they would have abandoned Scott a very long time ago. Despite how selfish and bratty Scott can be from time to time, Stiles will always care for him. He's always done everything he could to protect Scott from harm and he always will.

"Dude," A poke from a pencil and his best friend's concerned voice brought Stiles out of his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

Oh boy, all of Stiles' worrying must be showing pretty clearly if even Scott noticed something was off with him today.

He never liked doing that, showing feelings of sadness. Stiles has always prided himself on being the thing that brought up people's spirits not brought them down. People shouldn't concern themselves with him, ever.

"I'm fine man," Stiles turned to his friend and offering him a likeness of his normal goofy smile he always wore. "Just a little tired, I pulled another all-nighter."

Scott told him couple nights ago that he had smelled a strange scent in the air. He knew that it wasn't another werewolf, because that wouldn't have smelled strange, obviously, and it wasn't something he had smelled before either. It was a new scent, a new and dangerous scent that smelled of cinnamon and trees (at least according to Scott anyway. Stiles just wondered how cinnamon and trees were dangerous).

Stiles had been researching ever since he gained this information, trying to find any creatures that could be related to cinnamon and trees. After eight hours of searching he came up with over one thousand choices. Needless to say, Stiles was less than ecstatic when he was finished.

"Don't worry," Scott gave his friend a comforting smile. "You'll figure it out eventually, you always do."

Now Stiles' smile regained some of the brightness it had once lost. Scott was acting like the caring friend that he always could be. He loved moments like this. Sadly, they seemed to exist only in small doses since the arrival of Allison into their lives.

Don't get Stiles wrong; he doesn't have anything against Allison, she's a really sweet girl, he just doesn't like how Scott and Allison act together. He doesn't like how they think that they are the only ones in the world that matter; that they are the only ones with problems.

A lot of problems have been created because of their actions with each other and it has to stop. Somebody has to bring them back to reality before lives start to be lost over their soap opera love. The only question is who. That's something Stiles desperately wants to know.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. All of the students rushed out of the room wanting to escape the horror that was English 102 as soon as possible.

Seeing that he still had Scott's attention, Stiles quickly pulled out some notes from his research from last night. He wanted to use this non-Allison moment for as long as possible.

"I think I might be able to narrow down some our candidates for our supernatural version of Guess Who," Stiles pointed to some key facts he got from an extremely long European Bestiary, "I need you to-"

"Oh there's Allison," Scott's previously intrigued demeanor instantly dropped for a bright smile as soon as he caught sight of his girlfriend.

Without even looking back he ran towards her, wrapping an arm around her waist and walking with her to his next class.

Meanwhile Stiles just stood where he was frozen, his body still in the same position before he was interrupted. Slowly, with a small sigh, he dropped his arms and put away his notes.

"I don't know why I try," Stiles said to himself lowly.

"Talking to yourself, Stilinski?" A smooth voice said in the form of a taunt.

Completely ungracefully, Stiles turned at the sound of the familiar voice of Lydia Martin. She was staring directly at him, she looked as if she was seeing into his soul with her eyes. It was making him extremely uncomfortable.

"That's the first sign of insanity," Lydia tut-tutted, shaking her head in mock sadness. "It would be such a shame if someone like you were to be whisked away to an insane asylum."

Stiles internally groaned at his luck. Ever since that incident with Peter, Lydia had been in full Queen Bee mode. Anyone (and everyone) in her sight has suffered from her wrath for an entire week and no one knew why.

Even Stiles who knew exactly what had happened couldn't tell you why she was acting the way she was. Sure, he understood that what happened to her was extremely traumatic and terrifying, but he couldn't tell you why she acting like somebody pissed in her coffee, cereal, and car on the same day. Maybe this was her way of dealing with the situation. Maybe she's snapped and has lost her mind. Or maybe she's just on her period. Either way, Stiles couldn't tell you anything.

Stiles could never figure out girls; all of them were so complicated and crazy. I guess that's why he's been finding men more attractive than women lately.

"Hello? Earth to spaz boy." Lydia was snapping her perfectly manicured fingers in his face to get him to pay attention to her.

Ha, I bet that's a first for her, having to try to get a boy to pay attention to her.

"Sorry." Stiles shook himself out of his mind and gave her a nervous smile. "My mind just goes to space sometimes."

"Really?" Lydia folded her arms and gave him a shocked look. Stiles desperately wished he could make his face do things like that.

Stiles gave her an eager grin. "Oh yeah my brain loves its travels to outer space. It's like a rocket," He moved his hand upward in a zigzag motion and even made zoom sound effects, "you never know where it's going to stop."

For all of a couple seconds Lydia stood perfectly still, just staring at Stiles, before she regained her composure and gave him a "you-are-lesser-than-me-look".

"Well that was…unique." Lydia tried desperately to find the correct word to express herself. "But now that I've had my daily dose of stupid I have to go to class."

She then tried very prissily tried to walk past the hyperactive teen but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait." Stiles quickly took his hand off of her as he got caught in her death glare. "Are you okay?"

Lydia blinked before narrowing her eyes. "Why do you care?" She was clearly trying to avoid the question. "You think that just because you give me a concerned glance every here and there you're going to get lucky, Stilinski?"

"Of course not," Stiles snapped, his anger and outrage making him ignore the looks he was getting from other kids in the hall.

Sure, at the time when he had feelings for Lydia he had wanted to sleep with her, it wouldn't make sense if he didn't, but that's not all he wanted. Stiles had wanted a relationship with her, he had wanted to love her. He had wanted to be the Leonardo DiCaprio to her Kate Winslet. He hadn't just loved her face, he had also loved her brain. Lydia was the only girl Stiles knew that couldn't just look like a runway model but could also study like a Harvard grad. He had wanted every part of her, body and mind.

Sadly, Stiles has gone through some very harsh times in the past couple of months and he didn't have time to pine over her anymore. By the time he was given a break, a very small break, mind you, his feelings for her were completely gone.

"I want to know if you're okay because I care about you," Stiles informed her gently. Very quickly he moved in and awkwardly gave her hug before falling back into the place he was before. "I want to be your friend."

Stiles could see it then, he saw Lydia's legendary indifferent mask fall from her face and was replaced with the genuine sadness he assumed that she was feeling. However, as soon as the late bell rang loud and sharp, her face returned to its normal protective form.

"Thanks a lot, Stilinski, now I'm late for class." Lydia scoffed and without another word left him in the hallway alone.

Stiles stared in front of himself thoughtfully wondering what could be done for her. Lydia needed help, and fast. She needed someone to talk to, someone that could help her get past all these pent-up emotions she's feeling. Who? That's another question Stiles couldn't answer.

The end of the day could not have come quicker. Stiles sometimes got extremely insulted in class; the teachers acted like none of them could get the simple concepts they said to the students.

Scott huffed loudly, bumping shoulders with his best friend as they walked out of the school. Stiles desperately hoped there weren't more Allison problems. He wasn't really in the mood to give any encouraging speeches at the moment.

"I don't know how I'm going to pass math this year, I don't understand a thing my teacher's saying," Scott shook his head hopelessly which is something he typically did when talking about his own grades.

How Scott McCall got into Trigonometry is anyone's guess. The boy barely passed any of his math classes and they put him in one of the most advanced math classes in the school? Somebody must be out to get him.

"I couldn't focus on anything that he was saying. It was really weird," Scott said blinking slowly in thought.

"Scott," Stiles was almost afraid to ask but, "Is Allison in that class to?"

Scott perked up once again. "Yeah, she is. Why?"

Of course she is, Stiles thought to himself begrudgingly. He had to resist the urge to slap himself in the forehead with his binder. Of course Scott wasn't pay attention class because he was too busy paying attention to Allison, as always.

Stiles and Scott needed to have a study session, urgently. First he needed to get Scott away from Allison, though. He would probably have better luck trying to pull teeth with plastic utensils, but it was worth a shot. All he had to do was either find a bunny rabbit of something shiny, or possibly both.

"Give me a ride?" Scott asked already moving toward moving toward Stiles' car. "Deaton will kill me if I'm late for work again."

Pulling out his keys, Stiles was more than ready to put Carry on the road so they could get the hell out of there. However, he froze when he saw two figures leaning on the front of the car staring dead at Scott and Stiles.

"Hello boys." Erica greeted coquettishly, eyeing them with dark intent, "Always a pleasure to talk to you both."

If Stiles had been feeling in the mood he would have rolled his eyes to high heaven. Erica was once again doing the same thing she and Isaac have been doing since they've been turned, acting like henchman. They really didn't have anything relevant to say, opting to just smirk and let out snarky remarks.

In the corner of his eye, Stiles could see Scott tensing up beside him. Boyd and Erica, despite looking quiet relaxed, were leaning on his car in a manner that would allow them to jump up at any time.

It was quite a shame. All of them had been through so much together, both supernatural and normal issues, and yet none of them could even have a simple conversation with one another without having their claws out under the dinner table.

Derek and Scott were still at odds with each other. The two of them just couldn't get along under any circumstances. It's not hard to see why, what with Scott's selfish tendencies not making him the most ideal person for a wolf pack, and Derek with his new "I'm Alpha and it's my way or the highway" mentality he's gained, it's a wonder they haven't killed each other yet.

These two needed a mediator before they do actually kill each other, or at least babysitter to change their diapers when they started whining.

"What do you want, Reyes?" Scott questioned, the tiniest bit of a snarl in his voice.

While Erica seemed to be amused by Scott, Boyd showed no reaction to his hostile question. He just looked over at the both of them with his face blank.

Boyd wasn't acting like Derek, imitating his emotionless mask; he was watching just both Stiles and Scott, analyzing them.

Of all the decisions Derek has made thus far as Alpha, Stiles can say that turning Boyd should be the only one the werewolf should be proud of. Boyd doesn't act like a nameless grunt or a henchman, he's tactical in the sense that he's always waiting and watching. He never speaks until he's sure of what he's saying and doesn't act until he has a plan.

Once upon a time Stiles thought that maybe Boyd could have taken over as Alpha, but he squashed that idea when he realized that Boyd wasn't one for giving orders but was just good and following them to a tee.

"Scott, Derek wants you to discuss the new threat with us tonight," Boyd said, finally speaking up.

Stiles couldn't help but notice the way he only said Scott's name. Not that Stiles wasn't used to being ignored (he's aware of how much people dislike him) but never at the level of Derek and his pack. They went out of their way to ignore him, excluding him from meetings, not sharing any information with him, and always wanting to talk to Scott and never him (which was completely pointless because Scott told him everything).

Derek did this far more than his flunkies. He threatened him every single time he spotted Stiles in supernatural situations and events. And yet, he was always the first to protect him from harm.

Stiles knew that Derek didn't like him very much, it was fact he had sadly come to accept, but he just couldn't understand why he acted the way he did around him. He didn't treat anyone but him like that, like they shouldn't be involved in all of this. It hurt Stiles more than he would care to admit.

"Be at the hideout by seven, Scott, for the meeting," Erica said putting emphasis on the name.

Meeting? Did she mean the all-out bitchfest that's sure to come which will get them absolutely nowhere and force them to deal with the problem as it comes to them with no type of plan? That's sounded much more accurate.

Stiles looked between his best friend and the two werewolves by his car, his eyes darting back and forth between them.

They needed help. They needed someone to guide them along. Who could do it? Stiles was getting tired of asking the same question all the time.

Scott scoffed but looked like he was going to agree to go nonetheless.

"Yeah sure, what-"

"No." Stiles suddenly proclaimed. His mouth was doing that thing where it starts saying things without the consent of his brain.

"What?" Erica snarled, looking insulted that he would even dare utter that word to her.

Apparently his legs decided to go the way of his mouth, as he walked toward Erica and Boyd, stopping in front of them.

"I said no." Stiles repeated with strength he didn't even know he had. "If you want to talk to Scott you talk to me first."

Boyd showed no visible reaction to his words, while Erica just scoffed at him. "Sorry, no humans allowed, Derek was big on that fact."

Stiles at first started to glare at her but decided to shrug his shoulders at her response.

"That's fine with me," Stiles told her indifferently moving to the driver's side of his car, "but you're not talking to Scott without talking to me; not anymore."

He made a small hand gesture for Scott of follow him which he dutifully did, to his surprise. It seemed Scott's body was working without Scott's brain as well, because while he was doing what Stiles said he looked completely stunned while doing it. It was like some force was pulling him to do what he said.

Starting the car and without so much as a backward glance, Stiles drove out of the school parking lot.

"What was that?" Scott asked with his eyes widened, once they were a ways away from the school.

Stiles seemed to be in shock himself. His hands were gripping the wheel tightly, his palms sweaty, his eyes focused on the road like a laser.

"You totally just owned them back there." Scott continued with gleefully. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Neither did I," Stiles answered in a small voice. "Neither did I."

He had just felt something come over him, a kind of power that has been lying dormant within him. It was something he had been feeling ever since Derek became the Alpha.

For the first time in years Stiles could feel life, his own life, starting to change.

I hate writing first chapters. It took me an hour to decide what to write for the first page. I hope everything turned out okay.