This is a college AU, mainly Stydia but there will be plenty of Scott/Stiles friendship, Allison/Lydia friendship, along with Scira and Allisaac, Everyone is what they are on the show, but it's done a little different. For one, Derek is obviously not the one who bit Isaac, since he isn't an alpha. Cora is also present. It's weird, just stick with me, I have the first six chapters plotted out and planned.

All mistakes belong to me, I reviewed this multiple times but mistakes still constantly get by me, so I apologize in advance.

This Is the Beginning

Lydia Martin learned to adjust to college and being a banshee. She threw caution to the wind, finding all the good parties to go to, all the right people to join up with, and all the right fraternities to associate herself with. It was hard work and she somehow managed it with her enormous amount of schoolwork.

All of the advanced classes in the world did not prepare her for college. She was still far more advanced that any person on that campus, but that didn't mean she didn't have to work for it.

But if there was one thing Lydia was good at, it was finding that perfect balance of fun and learning.

It was a gift that her roommate, and newly appointed best friend, couldn't help but marvel at as she pored over book after book and still only just managed to cling to a GPA high enough to ensure her scholarship continued supporting her.

"You did not just get back from a party," Allison Argent said in amazement as Lydia came in, kicking her heels off.

Allison straightened up from where she was leaning over her desk, glancing at the clock to find it was six in the morning. "Tell me you didn't stay in here all night studying for that test," she fired back, throwing herself onto Allison's bed.

Allison smiled patiently. "No. I woke up at five to continue studying. Not all of us are blessed with natural brains," she informed her. "I actually came back from that party last night."

Lydia stared up at her, scandalized. "I came back! I had to change for the next party," she told her defensively.

Allison laughed. "Oh, how silly of me."

Lydia smiled, stretching her arms over her head and yawning. "I need a distraction."

Allison turned in her chair, shutting her book, already resigning herself to the fact that she wouldn't be getting any more studying done before the test. She crossed her legs, leaning forward, smiling playfully. "A distraction? From what, the ten other guys you've been distracting yourself with?"

Lydia rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "It is not ten! Jackson and Aiden are fun, but they're kind of like celery."

Allison frowned. "I'm lost."

Lydia sat up and sighed. "You feel really good about yourself during, but afterwards, you're still kind of empty, and craving something else," she explained.

Allison laughed, nodding her head. "Right." She sat back up, pulling her feet up and tucking her knees in against her chest. "Have you ever, maybe considered a real relationship? I'm not saying it's going to fill your life with meaning, but it might be a lot better than the hookup of the week…" her frown deepened, and she shook her head for a moment. "Not that a hookup of a week is bad either, I just want you to be happy!" She insisted.

Lydia laughed. "I'll work on it. But just remember, not all of us have those kind, understanding boyfriends that will stay up late with us on the phone," she teased.

Allison blushed. "Just wait, you'll find yourself your very own Isaac and regret the day you mocked me," she said, grabbing a pillow off her bed and tossing it in her direction.

Lydia dodged it, jumping to her feet. She stood there for a moment, head tilted to her side. "I am really short without heels," she observed, studying her reflection in their full-length mirror.

Allison stood to her feet, stretching carefully. "You should get some sleep before class instead of obsessing about your height," she suggested, brushing past her to get into her closet. "And I'm going to go shower before my own. Don't find another party while I'm gone."

Lydia pulled a face, but waited until Allison had left for the bathroom to sink to her bed, hands over her ears. Some faceless man who she never discovered, despite Derek Hale's help, bit her three years ago, but there was no explaining what happened to her afterwards. She did not turn into a werewolf, like Derek, but instead something entirely different. Cora Hale was less than willing to help her with the turn, should she survive the bite, but none of them were prepared for a banshee.

It was useful though. She was drawn to the more gruesome deaths, something she didn't consider a gift but there were fewer missing persons, but a longer list of unsolved murders. She would scream, and suddenly her mind was clear to hear the thoughts of the dying. It wasn't a fate she wished on anyone.

Derek was hesitant to see her leave, unable to keep an eye on her and her uncertain abilities but she's been managing for three years. If anyone was able to strike out on her own, it was Lydia. She assured Derek she wouldn't put 'banshee' on any list of qualifications and he promised to check in on her. According to Derek, there were a few people he knew that went to this college, so it was equal opportunity to play big bad alpha and make sure she was coping on her own.

She also wouldn't deny that she was curious as to who some of the 'known werewolves' were that she would count as her peers, but it wasn't as if she was going to be putting up flyers requesting all werewolves to seek her out. She was also enlightened enough to know that not all werewolves were as kind as Derek. Cora, for one, was more on the abrasive side but she still considered her as close a friend she could get back home. She certainly wasn't the type to stay up all night with, talking about hair and boys.

No, that was definitely Allison. She was the perfect best friend. Lydia hasn't confided completely in her, but she did talk about Derek and Cora. Allison had a boyfriend back home, and her own group of friends. Lydia knew next to nothing about her, but the same could be said for Allison. Lydia was hoping that could change, though. She wanted a best friend who she could trust with her secret. She wanted a best friend who didn't roll her eyes every time she turned on her curling iron. Cora was great in many aspects, but she spent too much time on her own, fighting to survive to have any patience for Lydia's interest in clothes, make ups, and boys. She spent their time together teaching her how to fight, but Lydia didn't quite pick up on it. She picked up on the basics, but her talents were running in high heels and screaming when someone died, or was close to death.

Lydia fidgeted uncomfortable, pushing her hands tighter, face screwed up in concentration. "Not now," she grounded out through clenched teeth, the noise growing louder and louder.

She took deep, even breaths as the voices grew in intensity, pounding in her head almost painfully, and she knew if she just screamed everything would be clear. But everyone would hear.

Let your freak flag fly, she thought bitterly as the noise became too much and she just screamed.

Stiles saw Scott tense up out of the corner of his eye from where he sat at his desk, searching for something school related for once. He spun in his chair, staring at Scott. "What is it?"

Scott held a finger up to him, head tilted, a frown settling on his brow. "Someone is screaming."

Stiles threw his hands up in frustration. "Yeah, dude, it's college. Of course someone is screaming. I thought you tried to not let your wolf ears listen in on that kind of stuff," Stiles reminded him.

Scott shot him a look. "No, this is different," he insisted. "It's…weird. I've never heard anything like it."

Stiles sat up straighter. "Something different? I'm for that! Do you know how boring this place has been with nothing supernatural popping up every other week?"

Scott laughed, glancing at his best friend. "Boring isn't how I would describe it." He stood to his feet slowly. "It's coming from upstairs."

He was out of the room before Stiles could blink. "Wait, Scott!" He called, hurrying after him, mumbling under his breath about inconsiderate werewolves using their speed and forgetting about the fact that humans are considerably slower.

Once he caught up, it was only to find a crowd surrounding one room. "No! I'm telling you, I'm fine, it was just a spider!" A voice loudly insisted.

Stiles forced his way through the crowd, joining Scott. "Why do people feel this urge to gather when someone screams?" Stiles wondered.

Scott turned to look at him. "You mean like we are? Right now?" He said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "This is different. You said her scream was different. We're not spectators, we're here to find out what's different about the girl behind it," he explained easily.

Scott stared blankly at him. "Right, of course. Except we still seem like the rude people who are gathering around a girl who is obviously stressed," he whispered.

Stiles nodded slowly. "Yes. But only because she is different, and we, being fully engrossed in the world of different, are here to find out more about the other different people," he told him, clapping Scott on the back.

Scott mouthed wordlessly. "I-you just said the word different a lot!" Scott said, staring at him helplessly.

Stiles shrugged. "She's something you don't know, we are being…inquisitive. Not rude," he assured him.

Scott sighed. "I'm going to see what I can hear," he muttered, stepping closer.

Stiles stood by, waiting impatiently as Scott tilted his head towards the door, listening intently. Stiles waited but Scott hadn't moved. "Dude, what's going on?" He demanded.

"Okay, everyone clear out!" A voice shouted irately.

Stiles snorted. "Someone did not like her six a.m. wake up call," he muttered to Scott. "So what's going on?" He asked. Scott didn't immediately answer, however, head still titled to the door even as Stiles pulled him around the corner, hidden from sight of the RA who was clearly in no mood to have any more people occupying space in the hallway. He stood there, waiting, glancing around the corner every so often where the door was now shut.

Scott finally turned to face Stiles. "Her name is Lydia. She is standing by the spider story but she's lying," he explained. "That doesn't make sense."

Stiles searched around uncertainly. "Okay, okay, let's do this. We need a plan."

Scott narrowed his eyes, staring at Stiles in obvious confusion. "I know that. What's the plan?" He hissed.

Stiles shrugged his shoulder, tossing his hands up. "I don't know. I haven't gotten that far yet!" Scott dropped his head in defeat, shoulders slumping. "We want to know what she is. And you are obviously the best person for that job, seeing as how you already have the whole 'I'm a werewolf, I know what it's like to be different' thing going for you."

Scott raised his eyebrows as he studied his best friend curiously. "Are you passing up the opportunity to talk to a girl?" He wondered in amazement.

Stiles scoffed. "No. I'll talk to the roommate. Now, go!" He said, shoving him forward. He tiptoed away while Scott went to the room. He heard him knocking and then muffled voices.

He leaned against the wall, waiting. He honestly thought college would be different. Ever since Scott got bit that night in the woods, their lives had changed. Stiles stood by his side, got him through the worse of it. They had no one to go to, no one to explain to Scott what was happening, or why. He gets a bit by a wild animal and next thing they know, Scott is changing on a full moon, completely out of control. He nearly killed Stiles that first night, and it took weeks for Stiles to convince him it wasn't his fault. The guilt nearly devoured him whole, but it was nothing compared to the monster he became before he finally learned some semblance of control.

Deaton helped.

It didn't take for long for Scott to learn that his boss knew more about werewolves and the world of supernatural than most bosses. He helped Scott reign in the wolf, to become more human, even when he shifted. Scott had complete control now and most of their time afterwards was spent trying to stop people from dying when they could and learning everything there was about what happened to Scott that night.

Three years and no idea who bit him or why; needless to say, they were frustrated with the lack of answers.

He heard the sound of a door shutting and he straightened up, glancing around just in time to see Scott and a girl with strawberry red hair leaving through the side exit of their dorm. He laughed quietly. He knew if anyone could get a person to trust him enough to actually have a conversation with a person they don't even know, it was Scott McCall.

There was a soft knock on the door. Lydia and Allison exchanged confused glances. "Someone wanting to find out why the psycho on the fifth floor was screaming her head off at six in the morning?" Lydia wondered. "Or perhaps someone angry that I woke them up, coming to tell me how I ruined their beauty sleep?"

Allison smiled uncertainly. "Well, ignoring it won't make it go away."

Lydia stood up and swung the door open. "Hi," Scott said slowly. "I'm just, um, I heard your scream?"

Lydia pursed her lip, nodding her head. "Yeah. You and the entire dorm room!" She said with false cheer.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing into the room where Allison sat, watching him carefully. The first thought that occurred to him was she was gorgeous. The second thought was that she would definitely kick his ass if he even looked like he was going to consider saying the wrong thing to her. "No, I mean," he sighed, lowering his voice so only she could hear him, "I mean I heard you."

Her eyes widened noticeably. "You are-"

"Yes," he said quickly, nodding his head.

Lydia turned to glance at Allison. "I'll be right back." She stepped out into the hallway with him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Explain."

He shut his eyes, focusing for a second, before his nails elongated into claws. He didn't dare reveal more in case someone walked out, but Lydia got the message. "You're a werewolf," she said simply.

"And you're not," he asserted.

She smiled coldly. "And how can you tell?" She demanded.

He motioned at her feebly. "Your scream, I know screams. That was not normal."

She sighed, dropping her arms to her sides. She took a deep, steadying breath. "No, it's not," she finally said. "Someone out there is dead. I don't know where, I just know," she explained, voice trembling as she stared around.

He stepped back. "Okay then. I don't have class until ten, let's go find it," he suggested.

She groaned. "I always find the dead bodies," she grumbled. She told him to wait there and returned to the room where Allison was on the phone with Isaac, having a rushed conversation about something she couldn't catch. "Hey, I'm going to get breakfast with this guy."

Allison smiled knowingly at her. "Is he going to be a new distraction?" She inquired, waggling her eyebrows at her.

Lydia laughed. "No. But new friends never hurt anyone," she pointed out.

She grabbed her jacket and joined Scott back in the hall; following him down the hallway and to the side exist.

Lydia and Scott headed onto campus in silence. She felt no need to strike up a conversation with the werewolf in her life and he was sniffing for a dead body. It was something she was used to, something she did often with Derek. She had an idea of where she was going, always able to find a dead body all on her own. It was her biggest issue after the bite. She'd scream and leave the house meaning to go one place, and next thing she knew, she was stumbling over a corpse, unsure of how she'd got there. That's when she'd call the police, and then Cora.

Lydia's stomach became made of steel after the fourth time it happened. Cora sat with her for half an hour the first, rolling her eyes but refraining from making any comments as she threw up in the woods. She had no choice but to eventually prepare herself for the fact that this was just going to keep happening, and she couldn't keep making Cora deal with her being sick in the woods. Cora was not made of patience as it is.

So Lydia was surprised as her and Scott found themselves in the deeper area of the woods, unaware that she was now leading him. Not until the came to a stop and found the body lying there.

"She's younger than me," Lydia whispered.

Scott knelt down, frowning. "She was bitten."

Lydia joined him and found exactly what he was talking about. A bite on her arm, very similar to the one Lydia had after she was attacked. The only difference was, Lydia survived. Then again, what was it that Derek always told her? "Not everyone survives the bite." Some die. This seemed deliberate, like they didn't intend for her to survive. She moved closer, lifting where her shirt was torn. "Another bite," she whispered. "She wasn't meant to live. This wasn't someone wanting to try for another werewolf, this was murder." She sat back on her ankles, as Scott gaped at the body. She pulled her fingers through her hair, shaking her head slowly. "Why would someone do this? She's what? Sixteen?"

Scott saw her shaking out of the corner of his eye. "How old were you?" He asked carefully.

Lydia sat up and smiled sadly. "Sixteen. I didn't see who did it. One minute I was waiting for my date, the next I was waking up and in a lot of pain. I don't think I was meant to survive, either, and I was certainly not meant to shift, because I never did." She tilted her head in his direction and smiled. "I just screamed a lot and then we would find dead bodies." She sighed. "I was that girl in high school. Beautiful, popular, everyone either hated me or loved me but they never crossed me. Then one day there was a murder in the same neighborhood as the school. I could hear it, that noise, and I couldn't drown it out. So I did the only thing I could. I screamed, right in the middle of class. Suddenly I wasn't that girl anymore but I was the girl who had to go see the school counselor because I wasn't dealing with my trauma." She laughed, shaking her head as she remembered how everything changed after that point.

Less time spent with cute boys who she could occupy her nights with and more nights spent with Derek and Cora. She could imagine a much worse life for herself. Although she was currently having a discussion about her life story with a stranger next to a dead body.

It definitely wasn't how she pictured college life for her. She thought more body shots, less dead bodies.

Scott stood to his feet, helping Lydia up. "I was sixteen too," he told her. "My best friend's dad is a cop, he said that a call came in that there was a body in the woods. We went to look for it, just two idiot kids wandering through the woods. We got separated and next thing I know, some wild animal tackled me, bit me and left me trying to find my own way home. The next morning, the wound had healed, and I just thought everything was fine until I realized I could hear things I never could and was a lot stronger. I just thought it was a really cool thing until the closer we got to the full moon, the more I realized that I had absolutely no control. I nearly killed my best friend the night of the first moon and it was after that, he would chain me up and lock in a basement until I was finally taught control," he explained.

Lydia sat there in silence for a moment. Derek and Cora had both lived with being werewolves. The idea of control was new to her. They were prepared for her to change, ready to lock her away if necessary, anything to keep others safe from her, but it never came to that. She never changed. She found herself watching him, the boy with the kind face, and tried to imagine him any other way. She didn't know him; she didn't even know his name. "I'm Lydia," she finally said.

"Scott," he said carefully.

She sighed, tugging at her hair uncomfortably. "I came into the woods to show a dead body to a boy whose name I didn't even know. Not exactly how I pictured college, or how I would spend my time," she admitted.

Scott smiled weakly. "Then avoid my best friend. He spends his spare time looking for things like this."

She managed a smile in response as she pulled her phone out. "And now this is where the police get involved," she said with a heavy sigh. "I hate this part."

Stiles was about to return to his room when a hand reached out, stopping him. "You think I wouldn't notice you hovering out here?" Allison Argent demanded.

Stiles held his hands up innocently. "No…?" He answered uncertainly.

Allison sighed impatiently. "What are you doing?"

Stiles stared around as if searching for an explanation before resigning himself to the fact that he couldn't get out of this one. "Is your roommate okay?" He finally asked, diverting the attention away from him for a moment as he scrambled for a good excuse. Then he frowned. "How did you know I was out here?" He wondered, studying her closely.

Allison smiled but it was more deadly than any smile Stiles had been on the receiving end of, and that was saying a lot for the awkward best friend who had never been great at talking to girls in the past. "You don't have a…. sixth sense type thing going on, do you?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at her as he tried to convey his meaning without coming out and saying the actual words.

She rolled her eyes. "No. I have a peep hole and you are not good at hiding," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest as she studied him carefully. "What did you mean by sixth sense?" She asked slowly.

Stiles grinned. "The movie, of course."

Allison frowned. "I don't see dead people. Wait…are you dead?" She said sarcastically.

Stiles shook his head. "No. But you did hear me out here," he pointed out.

She nodded seriously. "Yes. That is one of the five senses, in fact." Stiles scowled and she laughed. "I'm Allison Argent. And my roommate is okay. Or okay enough to go off with some guy at almost seven in the morning."

"Stiles," he said in response.

She titled her head to the side curiously. "Stiles?"

He shrugged. "It's a nickname." She opened her mouth to speak. "Don't ask, the first name thing is complicated. Just call me Stiles," he instructed.

She just nodded. "Okay Stiles," she said slowly. "What did you mean by sixth sense?" She asked.

Stiles eyes widened. "Oh, I, um, I just meant, well everyone has one, and I just figured, you know how it is," he sputtered uselessly.

Allison watched him squirm with more enjoyment than she should. Stiles finally quit speaking, just mouthing wordlessly, hands up to explain the unexplainable. He had nothing. Scott would have hated to miss this moment: Stiles was actually speechless. Allison finally smiled kindly. "I'm not a werewolf," she whispered.

Stiles started around the hallway, and even Allison noted the sudden activity in the halls as people filtered in and out of their rooms for the bathroom to begin their days. She bit the corner of her lip nervously before grabbing his arm and pulling her into her room. She pushed him onto Lydia's bed to sit, shutting the door behind her. She seated herself across from her on her own bed and watched him for a moment. "You're not either, are you?"

Stiles just gawked at her. She rolled her eyes. "Of course you're not. Then you would have heard me sneak up on you in the hall. No, you just know someone who is, don't you?" She smiled to herself as she realized it. "Yeah. So does your hovering outside my room and knowing about werewolves and the like have anything to do with the guy my roommate disappeared with earlier?"

This was not something that happened with Stiles often. Yes, he got tongue tied around pretty girls more than he was willing to admit, and yes, Allison Argent was on a new level of beautiful than he was accustomed to back home where he stood firm by the belief that they were just as beautiful, but there wasn't an instant attraction; just a curiosity that plagued him. Deaton knowing about Scott and the supernatural world was a shock, but not altogether surprising. But this was a girl in their dorm, with dark curls, a kind smile, and an aura of mystery who was questioning him about what he knew about werewolves. She wasn't new to this world. But she was also just as human as Stiles was.

He finally began to compose himself enough to answer her questions. "He's a werewolf. He was bitten three years ago," he finally answered, throat suddenly dry.

Allison wringed her hands together in her lap, staring across the room at a point above Stiles head. "My boyfriend was bitten two years ago," she admitted. "He wasn't my boyfriend at the time. I'm an Argent. There are certain expectations in my family. Needless to say, I nearly killed him. It was an interesting beginning to a relationship," she explained as vaguely as possible. It wasn't actually sharing time, just two humans bonding over being just that: human.

Stiles glanced around the room. It was a similar set up to his and Scott's room, with desks pushed into the corner, a shelf hanging over top with a light, the beds the next to them, against the wall, then the wardrobes on either side with two dressers between, a large mirror over top. The room was small, but cozy enough. Lydia's side was all bright colors while Allison's was pastel, comforting shades of greens and yellow. "Is your roommate one too?"

Allison frowned. "No. At least, I think I'd be able to tell. But she's…. something," Allison offered.

Stiles breathed out, pushing his hair back. "One hell of a screamer," he muttered.

Allison winced. "Yeah. That was different." She clasped her hands together in front of her and kicked her feet back and forth. "So what? Do you and your best friend just look into everything that screams supernatural?"

Stiles grinned widely, nodding his head emphatically. "Yep!" He said enthusiastically. "It's the one time I'm actually remotely useful. I'm small and my best friend is a werewolf, I don't have that going for me. But I can help out in the research area. It's that or provide the occasional sarcastic comment here and there," he added, forehead wrinkled with thought. He then cleared his throat. "So…werewolf boyfriend. That must provide some entertainment. You both have your time of the month."

Allison glowered in his direction. "I can hurt you," she said flatly.

Stiles shrugged. "Yeah. But you won't," he said confidently.

Her mouth twitched, nearly smiling. "No. It would be too cruel. You're defenseless."

Stiles didn't look too affected. He was about to speak again when his phone rang. He reached into his pocket. "Oh, it's Scott." He answered and Scott immediately began speaking, nearly too fast for Stiles to catch. "Woah, wait dude. Slow down. Did you say dead body?" He whispered. "Wait, what? She-dude, seriously? Did you call the-well, of course!"

He could actually sense Allison's frown and he hung up, turning to face her. "Our friends have stumbled across a dead body," he informed her.

Allison stood slowly to her feet. "Stumbled? Your best friend goes off with my best friend and they just…find a dead body?" She said her tone laced with doubt.

Stiles smiled anxiously. "Bad luck?" He suggested helpfully.

Allison scoffed. "Unlikely." She breathed out slowly. "So what? Are we going to get random, werewolf killings around here now too?" Her nose crinkled up as she considered that thought. "I was really hopefully to get away from that."

Stiles laughed in amusement. "We are ten miles out from Beacon Hills. There is a new death that can't be explained every other day there. People literally moved away because of all the random bodies found inside our school after hours. And we've been here for what, four weeks now? I'm surprised it took this long for it to happen," he said with a shake of his head. "Might as well resign yourself to the fact that the unexplainable is going to continue to happen. And those who know about all of this, like you and me, we'll be at the epicenter of every disaster. We can't help it. We're drawn to it. We thrive on the mystery and the danger. You're from a family of werewolves and you knowingly get into a relationship with a werewolf. I would leave the safety of my house at night and go find something new and different to look into, despite being the most defenseless person in the world. We crave it. It's just who we are. You didn't even wander too far out of your territory just because you didn't want to leave that world behind. You wanted it close."

Allison smiled in spite of herself. "Okay. So we're both just unbelievably stupid?" She guessed.

Stiles grinned goofily. "It's who we are. Might as well live with it," he said happily.

Allison breathed out carefully. "Okay then. Want to get breakfast?"

Stiles couldn't help but think this was the beginning of a brand new, interesting friendship. If there was thing Stiles knew he could relate to, it was another human stuck in the middle of all the werewolf drama.