Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Battlefield Part 1

My lungs and head felt like they were on fire as I gasped loudly, sitting up in... My bed? How did I get into my room? In fact, I didn't even remember leaving the station.

I felt my bed indent like someone sat down and then my hand was grabbed. When I finally had taken enough gulps of air to see who it was, I saw Stiles sitting in front of me. My parents burst through the door, relieved looks on their faces.

Stiles looked like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. And he smelled like he hadn't showered in twice as long. I looked around with confusion and noticed the glass of water on my nightstand. I reached out and choked it down. Bile rose up in my throat and I ran to the bathroom, barely making it before I vomited black goo into the toilet. It was just like before when I died. I felt someone hold my hair back, but I didn't know who it was, and I stared at the blackness.

"D-did I die?" I asked, trying to stand. I looked in the mirror to see it was Mom who'd been holding my hair. She nodded at me while I rinsed my mouth out. "Two days ago?" All I could do was go off of what I knew, and what I knew was that last time I died, I woke up in two days.

Stiles shook his head at me sadly. "It's been four days."

"Four days?!" I blurted, feeling faint. I caught myself on the counter and Stiles squished past Mom so he could take me back to the bed. I sat down, panting and staring at the ground. "Wh-what happened to me?"

"I don't know. Scott just found you dead at the station," Stiles said.

"Gera-." Suddenly my room melted away and I was back at the police station. I shook my head as if I was dreaming. The air was filled with smoke, so when I looked at Gerard standing in front of me, he looked ghastly. Had I dreamt that I died?

Down the hall, I could hear Scott yelling at Matt, Sheriff just yelling, and Allison and Mr. Argent trying to find Jackson and Derek. I wondered if Allison was still pissed.

Gerard had a small smile on his face, his body looking casual, like he was used to chaos. I scowled at him after telling him I wouldn't tell him where Derek was, and he took three casual steps toward me. I backed up slowly, something in my gut telling me I shouldn't be here right now.

"Rules are rules," Gerard said. His arm lifted the gun and shot me all in a second. I fell back, the bullet lodging in my chest. It was getting hard to breathe as I fought for air on the floor. I lifted my hand from my chest to find it covered in blood. Without the strength to move, I went limp, my hand falling back to cover the wound as blood spurted out of it.

I panted as I looked up to see Gerard smiling down at me, the gun now by his side.

"Sco-!" I couldn't finish yelling Scott's name because it felt like my lungs forgot how to work and I was fading fast.

"Just so you don't heal," Gerard said then pointed his gun at my heart. My eyes widened and then he shot me.

I was back in my room on my floor, screaming and grabbing at my chest. Someone was holding me, and three voices all shouted my name and questions. I pulled my hand back, expecting to see blood, but there was none. My breathing was erratic, but slowly coming back to normal as I looked up to see Stiles holding me in his arms.

I let my head drop down onto his chest while closing my eyes and trying to get my breathing under control. Every couple of breaths, it felt like my heart skipped a beat before working again as I grabbed onto Stiles with both of my hands, holding him close to me. If he was here, it meant I was here, too. And right now, I needed to be completely sure of where I was and if it was real.

Stiles' chin was on top of my head as I panted. I opened my eyes, looking up at my parents. My poor parents, they looked terrified. Mom had her hands clasped at her mouth and tears in her eyes and Dad looked like he would have a heart attack at any moment.

It was then I decided not to tell them who killed me. If I did, they'd surely rip out his throat and feed him to the dogs. I would tell Stiles the truth later.

"I-I was shot. I couldn't see who it was. They were behind me," I whispered. Mom whimpered and covered her mouth with one hand, putting the other over her heart.

"I'm going to make you some food," she sniveled, leaving quickly.

"I should go check on her," Dad said after a second. He looked like he wanted to say something else, maybe something like 'I love you', 'I'm glad you're alive again', but he wasn't a touchy-feely person, so he pursed his lips, nodding at me with affection, and left my room.

I finally registered the fact that my room was a mess. It was covered with loose paper, and I remembered leaving it clean.

"What the heck happened to my room?" I asked, sitting up and looking around.

Stiles jumped up, gathering some papers. "I was doing some research while you were dead about why you keep dying. I think I found something, too."

"Why didn't you do it at your house?" I asked.

Stiles paused, his mouth moving like he was trying to think of what to say. "I, uh..."

"Did you stay here this whole time?" I asked with shock. "Where did you sleep? Did you even sleep?"

"I slept on the floor for a few hours." Stiles gestured next to my bed, and when I looked there was a pillow and a blanket. I stared at it before turning my stare to Stiles. "What? Look, do you want to hear what I found or not?"

"Okay..."

"I didn't find much, but you're a werecat. I mean, you're a werecat, yes, but you're more than that. Like... Okay, like a werecat hierarchy. I think you're some rare form of werecat. It said these types literally have nine lives-."

"Wait, so I can die up to eight times without actually dying?" I asked, my eyes jumping from Stiles to my reflection in the mirror.

"Yeah, and that's not all. You're supposed to have this roar that can bring down an entire building."

"But I don't."

"Then maybe that part is wrong. I don't know. It also said you can fully transform into a cat," Stiles explained. I blinked at him, my eyebrows furrowed.

"But I can't," I said slowly.

"Maybe you could. May-maybe it's like a, uh... Something you have to practice," he said, shrugging with one hand.

"Stiles, where would I even start?" I sighed with exasperation, getting up to sit on my bed.

"I don't know that. Yet. I'll figure it out," he replied, turning in circles like he was trying to find something else.

"Stiles!" He stopped and stared at me. "Go take a shower. You look awful. We'll eat some dinner. Then you... C-Can you stay here tonight?"

Stiles nodded and I smiled lightly. I didn't know why, but I really didn't want to be alone tonight. I tossed a towel in Stiles' direction and went to my dresser. I had a pair of Stiles' sweats and a tee-shirt that he left over here in emergencies, so I gave those to him, too, then pointed at the door, silently telling him to go shower.

He smiled sheepishly and left the room. I sighed, looking at the mess on my floor. I picked up all the papers and stacked them neatly on my desk. My desk was cluttered with Stiles' things, so I organized them, setting Stiles' laptop on top of mine.