AN: Hellllooooo everyone! I really craved a Kid!Stiles fic, but there are seriously very few out there and asdfghjkl i needed to fix that.

A witch.

Beacon Hills has had a witch and it's rather annoying, really. Yes, she was to be considered dangerous, but Deaton knew how much magic she had, and she would be considered a novice. A newbie. He explained the different kinds of rankings that witches had. Those that had long years of experience and knowledge would be considered a very powerful one, who he warned everyone to never tick off. Those that had fewer years were considered to be novice, primarily up to about ten years.

So, with that information set in mind, Stiles was weary of the witch, novice or not, if she had the ability to conjure up spells, then she was dangerous. The pack on the other hand, didn't pay much attention to the untold heed of the vet's words. They thought that just because they were werewolves, they were powerful and could take her down easily. "we outnumber her, she's a novice, its a win for us." They seriously underestimated her.

Right now they were in the depths of the woods facing off the witch. Well, the werewolves were, Stiles lingered behind them with Allison and Lydia. The witch didn't look like she was going to leave anytime soon. She looked entirely too amused, and Stiles assumed she was either being too cocky, or she must have been sniffing something a little too much. The three of them observed as the weres began to attack the witch, only to discover that they underestimated her, though that was too late because right now she seems livid due to the insult Derek threw at her. They dodged attacks she threw at them. Thankfully the trees took most of her hits.

"It's such a sad thing to see children doing grown up stuff. Killing, fighting…where has their innocence gone to?" she said.

"We're not kids!" Scott shouted.

"Oh, but you are!" she chuckled. "You are, you are, oh yes you are little one."

Isaac and Erica came from behind and tried to surprise her, but she zipped up into the air and onto a tree branch.

"Surprise from behind honey? Now that's the spirit!" she clapped.

"What do you want!" Scott asked her.

"I'm merely here to gather ingre—why must I tell you?" she crossed her arms. "Oh fine, since you asked. I'm just gathering a few young souls for my spell." She shrugged. "Children are best what the spell calls for. Though, I can take other measures." She smirked and glanced around. She spotted three kids hiding.

"Oh, what do we have here?" she said. She quickly conjured a spell and shot it at the tree near them. Vines sprouted out and came alive.

"Crap" Allison grumbled as she got up fast. "Go, go, go." she said to Stiles and Lydia.

"Oh shit—" Stiles hissed as he abruptly got up and scampered away. Though, the vines acted quicker and wrapped all of them around their waists a few times. Allison had one arm pinned down, Lydia had both, and Stiles, luckily had both of his arms free.

"Oh, why were you hiding away little ones?" she hopped from one branch to another and landed on one of her vines that lead her to the front of them.

"This better not ruin my clothes." Lydia complained.

The witch smiled when she heard several growls below her. Ah, they were getting angry.

"Let them go!" Derek demanded.

"Man, you guys are no fun at all." She grumbled.

"Well, on account of someone dangerous coming on our—excuse me—his turf," Stiles pointed at Derek. "—and doing their grocery shopping and soul sucking children, and trespassing private property." Stiles let out. "—and you're blasting holes into his trees—" he flailed "—I would be pretty pissed and grumpy." he shrugged.

The witch stared at him when Stiles talked and flailed around. She smiled, which really gave Stiles goose bumps. "Well, I'm glad someone here still has their youth." She laughed. "Rambunctious aren't you?" she went over to Stiles. "Oooh, and you're eyes are so full of innocence!" she peered at him closer, bringing her hands up and cupped his face. Stiles seriously wanted to slap her hands away, but he's not stupid.

The Witch, with power at her will, she can cause anything to happen that Stiles definitely would not like at all. He really didn't want to piss her off anymore, even though she seemed real amused at everything. Although happy witches were just as bad as angry ones.

Stiles tried to duck his head away from her, but she held a tight grip. Her sharp nails dug into his cheeks. Stiles grabbed her wrist and tried to pry them away from him.

"Seriously…personal…space…issues." He struggled. "Fuck do you work out?"

"Why are they always surprised…?" she rolled her eyes.

"Why are you so grouchy?"

"Why—I am not grouchy."

"Yes you are, seriously. You got some serious sassyness in there too."

"I'm fine with being a bit sassy, but i don't think i'm grouchy like my old coot."

"Don't you have a—I don't know, a cat? An owl or something to talk to? Must be lonely for ya." Stiles' hands trembled as he struggled with the witch.

"I am not—well; yes I am a bit lonely. People like you though relieve me of that loneliness." She shrugged, but stopped. An idea came in mind. She grinned and gave Stiles a wicked smile. "Ahh…ah! Why don't I take you with me and keep me company?" she smiled. "You've got a bit of spark in ya." She rubbed his eyes and dragged her thumbs through his eyebrows. She laughed. "Your eyes are full of th—ARRGH!" she shouted as a claw slashed across her back. One of her nails had cut Stiles on the side of his face, drawing a small stream of blood that trickled down his cheek.

The witch snapped around, facing the brood in leather, face extremely sour. He grinned at her. She hadn't notice his presence at all. The witch dropped to the ground.

"Man, you're creeping up on everyone pays off." Stiles complimented him. Derek rolled his eyes.

"I don't do it for the fun of it, Stiles." Derek said.

"Oh yes you do, admit you like scaring the hell outta me." Stiles heard the werewolf chuckle. That asshole.

"This is nice in all but I would love to get down from here before she get's up again." Lydia complained. "JACKSON." She yelled. She saw Jackson was about to go over to her until the witch abruptly got up and flew back several feet before any of the werewolves got to her.

"Well now, that wasn't very nice." She gritted out as the blood was oozed out of her. "Maybe I should've learnt some healing spells like she said….huh." she huffed out. "Whelp, this isn't very good for me." she straightened her back. She flew up in the air and started to conjure up another spell. She almost finished, but an arrow shot her down right through the chest. The pack turned to see Allison crouched on the ground on one knee, in position to strike. Scott, sadly, was whining at his bloodied nails.

"Aw, I can't leave without a parting gift now can I?" she cackled as she spat out blood and finishes the spell and aims it towards Derek. He had his back to her as he tried to claw his way through the vine.

"Fuck—Derek!" Stiles shouted. Derek turns around, but doesn't budge.

And Stiles managed to move the man out of harms way by kicking him in the balls, Hard. He heard Derek grunt in pain as he curled and stumbled off the vine and toward the ground.

Stiles eyes widened as he stared into the massive orb of energy coming toward him.

Fuck.

The pack stared in disbelief, seeing Stiles hit by the large orb and his whole body consumed by it. Something odd happened though. As soon as his consumed his entire body, it literally popped, small orbs of energy flared out into smaller ones and dissipated.

Stiles seemed to be alright. His face was pinched, as if waiting for something to happen. He cautionly opened one eye and then the other. He glanced around confusingly and sagged in relief.

"Thank god it didn't work." he groaned. He flailed his limbs around. "Seriously, someone get me down now please?"

After Stiles and Lydia were taken down, Stiles got a harsh slap behind his head from Derek.

"Ow—really?!"

"Stiles, why the hell did you do that?" Derek growled at him. "That was stupid!"

"Well i wasn't about to let you get god knows what from that spell right in front of me!"

"You're lucky the spell didn't work." he gritted his teeth. "Don't ever do that again." he flashed his red eyes at him.

"Yea, yea keep your pants on, geez." Stiles looked over to the witch, who was dead at last. "What are we gonna do with her?"

"Deaton is on his way with Ms. Morrell to handle her, something about taking precaution with witch corpses." Scott told Stiles. "You okay?"

"Yea, just need to get back and clean up. Feel like everything is all over my skin." He shivered. "Need to scrub clean."

Scott chuckled.

"I got dibs on shower!" Stiles ran toward the bathroom inside the hale house.

"Just hurry up before everyone else falls asleep on the floor." Derek shouted at him.

"That only makes me want to take even longer!" Stiles' voice died down as he went up the stairs and down the hallways and toward the bathroom. He closed the bathroom door and set his clothes off on the counter of the sink. He chucked his clothes off and stepped inside the tub.

It was about midway into his lovely, warm, steamy shower that something seemed odd. His skin still felt grimy, no matter how many times he scrubbed it. He didn't want to stop when it was starting to get irritated. After a while though, it started getting rather itchy. He scratched and left red claw marks everywhere, though it didn't really help him at all.

"God dammit." He muttered. He reached over and turned the hot water on a bit more, causing more steam to form.

After his scratching horror, he shut the water off and opened the curtain and grabbed a towel hanging on the rack. He dried himself off and started with his hair until a horrible head rush happened. Stiles closed his eyes and felt nauseous. He took a step and slipped by accident. thankfully the towel cushioned his head. Stiles breathed slowly as the nausea passed. He got up and tried to step out of the shower. Tried to. He realized he couldn't step over the tub at all because his limbs were suddenly smaller.

Like, holy fuck he was ten times scrawnier than before. There was oddly too much steam in the bathroom so he couldn't see anything. It was most likely the witch had shrunk him with that last spell, or was it a side effect of a failed one she attempted? Either way, this was still bad. He climbed out of the tub and landed on his ass. It hurt more than before.

"Oh fuck that hurts." he whined. He got up and stumbled on his clothes he left on the floor. He glanced up, but noticed that the counter top sink was too high and way out of his reach.

He grumbles and picks up his oversized red hoodie, and put it on.

The whole thing consumed him. He's practically swimming in the thing. It didn't cling and hold on his shoulders and practically half of his whole entire body fits in the hoodie part.

This was what happened when you buy baggier clothes. He looked down at his shirt that was lying next to his pants. It was one of his favorite shirts that had the word 'JAWESOME' on it. That'll do.

He worked his way out from the hoodie and into the shirt. It's still baggier, but way better than the large hoodie. The neckline was about two inches from falling off his shoulders, the short sleeves stopping at his elbows and the end of the shirt stops half way down his legs. He's pretty sure with his damp, wild hair he looked entirely ridiculous.

"Seriously glad the stupid witch died." He complained and noticed his voice was somewhat higher. He walked over to the door and he has to stand on the tip of his toes to reach the door knob and turn it. He cursed as he tried reaching for them.

As he opened the door, he felt the rush of cold air swooping inside and shivered. Ah, werewolves. Higher body heat. They must have put it on max, no wonder there was so much steam in here.

He headed down the hallway, which seemed a bit creepier in the dark than usual. His heart started to beat a bit faster as he rushed down the hallway. Stiles stopped at the top of the stairs and looks down and holy crap where the stairs always that high up? And Derek didn't install any rails lately because they always break when the werewolves fought. He clung to the side wall and slowly descended down. He heard some of the pack wrestling downstairs, occupying time until they each took a turn in the shower. He didn't see Derek anywhere, so he must've been in the kitchen area. That was farthest away from the living room. The pack were probably too focused on the match for them to take notice of Stiles.

Until Stiles slipped half way down and rolled down the stairs. He didn't stop rolling until he hit the wall with a loud thump from his forehead. Stiles whimpered at the pain coming from his forehead. He covered it up with both of his hands, as if hoping that would make the pain go away.

The pack stopped and snapped their head at the source of the sound they didn't expect.

"What the hell was that?!" Jackson growled.

"I didn't even sense anything." Boyd said, a bit angry because something slipped past him.

Erica went forward carefully, claws protracting, teeth poking out. "Come out, come out where ever you are~" she hummed.

The pack was on standby, though confused because they didn't sense anything dangerous. They do sense pain now that they realized it. Everyone, saw Erica turn a bit to her right with her smirk, but then seeing it dropped, her eyes wide.

"Oh my god…" she held up a hand to her mouth. Boyd came up to her and stopped as he saw what made her look so shocked.

"Derek, we got a problem," Boyd said . It didn't take him long for him to emerge from down the other hallway.

"What?" he growled and stopped, sensing something. He saw Erica and Boyd blocking something with shocked expressions and the pack standing by confusingly.

"I think the witch's last spell worked," Boyd said.

"What?" he asked. He stoped and remembered the last spell hit Stiles. "What happened to Stiles?" he growled, getting frustrated. He sniffed and smelled pain coming from Stiles.

He saw Erica bend over and life a small bundle in what he smell's is Stiles' shirt he wore earlier today. When the small bundle was in her arms, the pack gasped.

Derek then saw it. He saw what everyone is so shocked about. He saw a small little kid with wild hair, who at the moment was covering a forming bruise on his forehead.

He noticed that there wasn't a difference in the smell at all. No mixed scents. The boy's skin had moles accordingly to Stiles' moles. Large, doe eyes that has conflicting tears that want to fall or pull back. His small cupid bow mouth. Yup, that was Stiles. No doubt about it. He's going to kill that wit—oh wait he did.

"Stiles, it's okay, we're going to fix this." Scott cut the awkward silence. "Wait, does he know who we are?" the pack stiffened. "The spell didn't reverse his brain too didn't it?" because the one thing Scott doesn't want to see is a toddler Stiles running around, hyper as hell and will undoubtedly ask for his mom.

"Yes, you asshole I know who you guys are!" Stiles shouted, or rather squeaked. "I just can't focus with the pounding headache right now." He threw a glare at him, but it really didn't have any scary effect to it. "Erica make it stop…" he whimpered again, and his face pouted and she can't say no to that face.

"Okay, okay Batman, just, don't make that face anymore," She said. She placed a finger and a thumb gently on his forehead. Thin streaks of black swam up her hand, but they were rather short. The pain emitting from Stiles disappeared and his face seemed content.

"You good?" Derek asked him. Stiles looked over and nodded. "Good, now what the hell happened Stiles?!"

"I don't know!" Stiles flailed in Erica's arms. "The spell the stupid witch shot me probably worked, or a side effect of an unsuccessful one, i don't know!"

"Why didn't you notice anything sooner?" Scott asked.

"I felt fine up until halfway through the shower I started getting insanely itchy. There was a lot of steam and I didn't notice anything until i got real nauseous and had a head rush. Then i slipped and when i tried to get up, i could no longer reach over it." He swung his legs in frustration, arms flying everywhere.

"Uh, Erica I think is best if you put him down before he smacks you in the face." Allison said. Erica thought about it for a moment and walked over to the couch and put him down.

"Scott, call Deaton and get him over here. He should still be near here." Derek told him. He nodded and called him.

"How old are you?" Isaac asked curiously.

"I don't know. I was scrawny and short when I was a kid." He studied his body. "Four...five?" he shrugged. Stiles shifted on the couch standing and leaning from one leg to the other. He shifted again, liking the movement.

"Don't even think about jumping on my couch." Derek growled.

Stiles looked at him with his huge, amber eyes and started bouncing up and down slowly.

Oh my god. Stiles thought. This is actually kind of fun. And the look on Derek's face too.

Stiles giggled as he hopped from one cushion to another.

"Stiles…" Allison said warily.

"Yesss?" he smiled as he hopped and jumped. He saw Derek clenching his fists, but doesn't move because really, he's kid. Hitting a kid is child abuse.

"You know what happened to the monkeys when they keep jumping on the bed?" she said, earning confusing stares.

"Of course, they fell and br—" Stiles stopped and blinked for a moment. He fell down on his butt and glued himself there.

He didn't like pain in this body. It hurts ten times more than it normally did.

He's not risking out the pain levels this body can take.

"Good." She smiled.

"Deaton is on his way. He just got done with ditching the de—" he stopped and looked at Stiles.

"Dude you can say dead body. I don't have a mind of a five year old."

Scott looks mortally wounded.

"What?"

"You're a toddler, don't just say that!"

"Say what?

"Dead body—" he slapped a hand over his mouth.

"You still fall for that trick." Stiles grinned and snickered.

"Scott has a point Stiles." Lydia spoke up. "When we go out in public, you have at least act your age, or simmer down on the foul language and you English."

Boyd nodded. "She has a point."

"Wait—I can't go out like this! I grew up here, the people will notice who I am!" Stiles yelled.

"You can't go around wearing improper clothes all the time Stiles." Lydia glared at him.

"Don't worry, I'll be buying your clothes." She smiled. "You're not going to look the same as you did before."

"I am not your guinea pig," he mumbled.

There was a knock on the door. Derek sighed, hoping Deaton can fix all of this shit. Isaac opened the door and let him and Ms. Morrell in. She spotted him as Deaton greeted Scott and the others and swore under her breath.

"Deaton, this is a huge problem," she said.

Deaton turned and saw Stiles sitting on the couch.

"Oh no."