Author's Note: Rewrite of Dersten's journey through episode one! All story information can be found on the first page!

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Revelation(s): noun
a surprising and previously unknown fact, esp. one that has been made known in a dramatic fashion.

On a crisp and clear afternoon, the first day back of Spring semester, a girl sat hunched over the slick black top of a science lab table, the mechanical pencil gripped between her nimble fingers, scribbling away. Her head dipped down, a pair of sea green eyes darting from one side of her notebook to the other, tracking every word that found itself bulleted and color-coded upon the paper. Her long hair, the color a rich combination of chocolate colored waves and honey undertones, had swung forward on either shoulder, shielding both her vision of her fellow classmates and their whispers. Not that she really cared. Adrian Harris, professor of Chemistry one-oh-one, did not miss days in class. Ever. Much less the very first day after returning from their Christmas holiday break. Which meant that, for whatever reason he had neglected to show his face upon the high school grounds that Wednesday, it was almost guaranteed the next day's class would have a pop quiz. Or a test, given the sheer amount of notes he had left behind for the substitute to pass out. Whispers didn't really matter much when she already detested, and fretted over, the subject.

Still, when someone starts whispering about the police finding a body stashed out in the woods, it draws attention.

"Dude, who cares? Creepy shit happens in that woods."

Pausing in the middle of writing out a protein structure, or something along those lines, Christen Collins reached out toward her left, her dainty hand making swift and sure contact with the back of her lab partner's head. Jackson Whittemore; resident star lacrosse player of Beacon Hills, and one of her closest friends (though they bickered often), who also happened to be dating her best friend. His features were refined, his hair a light brown that bordered on dark blonde after days upon days spent on a lacrosse field in the sun, and his fierce blue eyes were currently searing into her side after he hissed out a curse; his hand instantly finding the back of his head, fixing the style she might have mussed.

The brunette shrugged nonchalantly, her pencil returning to its scribbling. "Don't be an ass."

Jackson huffed.

"-said they only found half-"

Her nose wrinkled in disgust, a shudder of revulsion working its way down the length of her spine. She shook her head, dipping down once more with a colored pen to mark headings and vocabulary in her notes, intent on focusing her attentions back on chemistry.

"-about five miles out from that old house, the burned out one?"

Fingers frozen, Christen's breath hitched somewhere deep within her chest, the notes in need of being written long forgotten. She could feel the way Jackson shifted next to her, inching a bit closer, the heat of his body faintly brushing against hers. Her eyes lifted involuntarily, the oceanic green color meeting clear blue, his concern hidden craftily behind an expression of arrogance.

...Skin, bubbled and blistered, slick looking in some spots, a splotchy red in others...the screams, agony and grief...an acrid scent of burnt hair and human flesh, lingering...

Warm fingers squeezed her jean-covered thigh and she flinched, her head snapping up from where it had dipped low, the breath in her lungs racing in and out at a rapid pace. Nausea accompanied flashes of memory, mere snippets of a time and place meant to be forgotten. Christen shook her head, the naive thought that doing so would rid her of the sensation proved wrong as her head throbbed leisurely.

...White sheets, white walls, the pristine and disinfected whiteness of the hospital room made her cringe...so small there, curled into herself, skin blackened...charred...

The lab stool screeched against the polished floor as she lurched in her seat, blatantly ignoring the curious eyes of those around her and Jackson's hushed murmurs of her name. Papers crinkled as she shuffled them together, the heavy textbook left forgotten on the tabletop as she hoisted her things up into her arm, the heels of her boots echoing throughout the quiet room with every step. She passed up the substitute teacher without excuse, darting out into the science hallway just as the feeling of being suffocated seemed to grow. Tremors worked their way throughout her body inexplicably, scaring her more because she couldn't seem to understand why exactly she was reacting so strongly.

It was just a body!

..."Take care of him...blames himself, so easily...couldn't have helped it-"...

She didn't even know who it was, much less seen it with her own eyes. She wasn't the one that had stumbled upon a dead person in the woods. Still, her fingers shook, causing her grip to falter. Her books and purse went clattering to the floor, just as her back connected with the icy steel of the locker-lined hallway, and she sunk down to her knees.

...Hair, the color of coal, of a raven's wing, of the night sky...eyes, grass green, brimming with sorrow...changing, flashing; a pulsing, sharp blue...him...

"A-Are you alright?"

Gasping for air, her green eyes flew open with a wild look about them, snapping from side to side until they landed upon a pair of warm brown ones. She squinted, her head tipped back as she peered up at the boy crouched in front of her, his features twisted into an expression of worry and alarm. He looked a bit like a puppy, what with the floppy dark hair and the dark, innocent eyes. His jawline was a bit crooked, his hoodie a bit oversized, and her chemistry notebook was nestled safely in his outstretched hands.

"Uh, you dropped this," He muttered, scratching at the back of his neck. "When you, um...left?"

Christen nodded mutely, one hand lingering near her thundering heart as she inhaled deeply, attempting to ease her racing pulse and form some sort of coherent sentence to answer him. Staring blankly up at him, his lips lifted in an awkward grin before he reached down, offering the brunette a warm hand so that he might help her to her feet. She did so shakily, the faint throbbing behind her eyes encouraging her to press fingers to her temple as she squinted against the sunlight. It wasn't until he had gathered her books and began to pass them over that his name filtered into recognition, and she found herself smiling softly at boy.

"Scott, right?" She questioned, shrugging the strap of her purse back onto her shoulder.

He nodded sheepishly, his hair flopping down in front of his chocolate brown eyes.

"Good luck today," His eyebrows arched upward, even as she fixed a strained grin upon her lips. "You're trying out for Lacrosse again this year, aren't you?"

Stuttering through his response, he nodded emphatically, gesturing toward the sports stick strapped to his backpack and thrown over his shoulder. His tanned skin flushed noticeably with a bit of heat, and his left hand flailed slightly, pointing in the direction of the athletic hallway, where the locker rooms awaited.

"Y-Yeah, right...right! Which, I should probably-" Scott mumbled again, jerking his head sideways.

Christen flashed him a teasing smile, muffling her laughter before it escaped her throat. "Don't want to be late on the first day! That's no way to make first line."

The boy ducked his head, his lips curved upward in an embarrassed smile as he trotted off toward the locker rooms, and the green-eyed girl let out a breath of relief. The tension from earlier had left her physically drained, so much so that as she pressed her forehead to the cool metal of the lockers she leaned against, she considered forgoing her usual routine of dance practice in trade for a decent nap.

Both offered an, apparently, much needed escape.

The very next morning, before she could even spin the combination on her personal locker or manage a full sip of the mocha latte she had picked up at the coffee bar in the student lounge, a whirlwind of strawberry blonde hair and perfectly glossed lips blew by, screeching to a stop and slamming the locker door closed of the unsuspecting freshman that was, well, unlucky enough to be standing there. Fixing hazel eyes that had grown icy in her frustration upon the brunette, Lydia Martin shooed the trembling teenager away with a flick of a wrist, before she continued to stare in silence.

Arching a single eyebrow, Christen turned to face the irritated form of her best friend, and leaned her shoulder against her locker door, content to wait until the redhead decided to speak.

She didn't have to wait long, Lydia's patience left a bit to be desired sometimes.

Huffing lightly, the redhead narrowed her eyes accusingly, one hand firmly propped on her hip. "Just where were you, yesterday afternoon?! I told you I'd save seats! And you didn't even return my texts!"

"Well, good morning to you too, Lydia!" Christen's eyes lifted and rolled, before she wrinkled her nose playfully. "It's a bit early in the morning for full-fledged bitchiness, don't you think? I haven't even finished my latte!"

Movement near the corner of her eyes caught the brunette's attention and she turned, finding the pretty form of a girl partially hidden behind her best friend, her dark eyes fixed to the phone in her hand and her cheeks flushed lightly, no doubt worried she was intruding on the confrontation. Her hair was dark, much darker than Christen's, and her skin was a flawless ivory color. She was taller than both Christen and Lydia who had remained at their five-three and five-four height respectively since sixth grade, easily towering over them by four or five inches, heels not included. She had no doubt been dragged behind the redhead upon pain of death.

Once Lydia had her claws in you, there was no getting free.

"Besides, you haven't even introduced me yet!" The brunette admonished, lifting her insulated cup for a sip before extending her hand, jarring the darker brunette from her thoughts. "Hi, I'm Christen Collins. Don't mind Lydia! She gets in a mood, and there's simply no stopping her."

"I'm Allison," The girl introduced herself, a genuine smile curving her lips upward that was quickly returned. "We just moved here, around a few weeks ago."

Christen nodded in understanding, taking back her hand as her lips parted, a cluster of typical welcoming questions upon her lips; how was the move, how are you liking the school, have you tried out Rosemary's cafe yet? They were each derailed though when Lydia, irritated with a lack of answers for her questions, stuck her hip out even further in her agitation. The look came complete with plenty of attitude and a pair of pursed lips.

"Um, hello?! The tryouts, Christen!"

Scrambling for an excuse that did not include eerie flashes of vague memories and inexplicable glowing blue eyes, the brunette pivoted again to look at her best friend, lifting the warm cup in her hands for another sip to buy time, her tongue flicking out to gather the traces of froth that clung to her lip afterward.

"I'm sorry, Lyd. You know I had dance practice," She hedged, giving a quiet sigh. "After I got out, I had this awful headache. Plus, I was exhausted." Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "And don't even get me started on dinner with Dad, you know he was in town yesterday."

Taking another sip to distract herself, Christen sent a prayer to anyone that was listening for the redhead to accept the excuse she had supplied. The last thing she wanted to do was explain about ditching class, which Jackson had told her about without a doubt, and about turning off her phone for the evening so that she could simply hear herself breathe. Or the darkened shadows that had plagued her dreams. Lydia eyed her critically for a moment, her sharp eyes taking in the flicker of expression upon her best friend's face before she gave a dramatic huff, purposefully letting the situation go as she rolled her eyes and set a brisk pace in the direction of the cafeteria. Christen rolled her eyes heavenward in both affectionate exasperation and gratitude before she and Allison both followed in her wake, their newest acquaintance coughing to cover up her laughter.

"Ugh, fine! As long as you're showing up today!" Lydia bargained, her heels clicking as they strode along the hall. "And you need to talk to Jackson, he's pouting. He wanted us both there, you know. That bench warmer actually playing well didn't help anything either," She snipped, rolling her eyes. "Scott something or other...we need to find out-"

"Scott McCall?" Christen interrupted incredulously, ignoring those she passed to fix her eyes upon the redhead, both her eyebrows arched high in surprise.

Her best friend's head whipped around at the increased octave of her voice, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"God, don't tell me you're going to end up cheering for the underdog like this one," She motioned toward Allison idly, and Christen noticed how the girl bristled obviously, her fingers curling into fists. "Jackson won't be impressed."

Sighing, the brunette sifting her fingers through the wavy locks that spilt down her back.

"Lydia, Jackson can take care of himself. If he has a problem, he can come talk to me about it." She huffed quietly, managing one more swallow of her latte. "A little healthy competition never hurt anyone," Christen snipped, flashing a smirk. "Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I've got a history quiz to suffer through. See you at lunch!"

The heels of her tan boots clicked sharply as she walked away, leaving both girls behind, and herself a little surprised. She typically chose to tune out Lydia's overwhelming praise for Jackson, knowing that the redhead thought inflating the boy's ego kept him happy. She had known Lydia since they were ten years old, and Jackson since they were eleven; the routine wasn't anything new. Shaking her head, Christen continued down the hallway, putting the thoughts from her mind and finishing her coffee, for both the warmth and the comfort of the taste as she went. Passing the floppy haired form of Scott McCall on the way, his slightly eccentric friend hovering near his side (Stiles, wasn't it...what even was a Stiles, anyway?), the girl wiggled her fingers in greeting, a nearly timid smile curving her lips.

Scott blushed, Stiles choked, and Christen giggled as she turned the corner- her dreaded history class coming into sight.

Just before she made it to the door though, a sharp tingle zapped its way up her spine, making her physically shudder as she gasped. Her head whipped from side to side, green eyes searching wildly for the pair that seemed almost tangibly fixed upon her. All she found was the usual morning bustle of students; some chattering happily, others trudging along, still half asleep.

Still, she could have sworn she felt someone watching her.

The effort to find them though came to an abrupt end when Allison came striding around the corner, sipping her own newly acquired coffee and flashing Christen an excited smile when she realized they would share the same, albeit slightly boring, history class. The timely distraction of getting to know her new friend proved to ease the brunette's mind, and it wasn't long before they were quietly trading phone numbers, tuning out the drone of Mr. Jameson as he began lecturing.

It didn't change the feeling though, the one that had grown heavy in the pit of her stomach, that made her fidget with unease.

Something was coming. She just knew it.

The day continued on, much to her surprise, in an uneventful fashion -setting aside the brief flashes of gruesome images that would pop up behind her lids when she would close her eyes, from time to time. It seemed the more she overheard rumors about the supposed murder and a body found severed in half within the woods, the more frequent the flashes would become. Each one made her shudder, a keen sense of familiarity tinged each glimpse she received, and it sent a wave of nearly tangible fear along her spine.

They seemed almost like...memories.

Which was absolutely impossible. Sure, she had visited her mother during her shifts at Beacon Hills Hospital on more than one occasion, but she had never been allowed to observe anything upon the emergency room floor, much less the trauma unit.

So she avoided those who found the topic of a dead body undeniably interesting.

Abandoning her usual seat in the cafe with Lydia and Jackson, she instead sought out Allison a few seats over, intent on continuing their discussion from history, inquiring about her past homes and what it had been like to live in places like Los Angeles and New York. It didn't keep her from noticing the slight insecurity hidden behind a sour frown of jealousy that twisted at her best friend's pretty lips from across the cafeteria. Blowing Lydia a playful kiss, Christen winked at her in silent assurance, that just because she was seated next to someone else didn't mean they weren't still best friends.

Sending a text that said she would be sure to make it to the second round of tryouts didn't hurt either.

Time crawled throughout the day, much like her skin seemed to at the most inopportune times, until finally she was faced with the dreaded Chemistry class once more, this time complete with an agitated looking Harris scraping chalk across the board. Delightful. Sighing when Jackson purposefully threw his legs up into her usual seat and turned his face away from her, the brunette rolled her eyes, fixing him with a narrow-eyed smirk as she swept right by him with the intent of speaking to his budding new rival, much to her second closest friend's chagrin.

"So, I hear congratulations are in order!" Christen grinned down at the floppy-haired boy, that same grin turning almost feline as his quirky friend flailed in the seat she had perched herself on, right next to him. "The girls told me how well you did."

Scott flushed visibly, his already tan skin darkening with the blush as he coughed out a reply. "Th...the girls?"

The eccentric boy between them sat with comically widened eyes, the orbs darting back and forth wildly as he took in the sight that was his (admittedly) dorky best friend talking to (what he considered) one of the most popular girls in school, as if such a thing was a common occurrence.

She nodded her head, the smile curling at her lips turning almost knowing as she winked at the boy. "Lydia, of course...and Allison."

Scott choked on his own breath, anything he might have been preparing himself to say becoming lost in the hacking and coughing noises that echoed loudly in his chest. It drew plenty of stares, including the fierce glare of one annoyed and pouty Jackson who narrowed his eyes and pointed emphatically to the, conveniently, now leg-free seat beside himself. Before Christen could move, Stiles could finally come up with something to say, or Scott could catch his breath; a sharp voice interrupted their conversation, obviously more than a little annoyed as he snapped at them.

"Miss. Collins, perhaps you would like to share with the rest of the class would could possibly be more interesting than your much needed review for the chemistry examination next week?"

Said teenager sucked in a quick breath and nearly cringed, flushing as she lowered her shoulders and sunk down a little in her seat. It was her own fault, she was more than aware. Anyone who actually wanted to see the summer holidays alive and well, knew better than to hold conversations even a mere second after the bell had rung shrilly throughout the classroom. Harris considered each and every second after the signal as his own, speaking after only gave him leave to taunt you with. Just as she was about to answer however, her cheeks a light pink that only darkened as the teacher tapped his heel impatiently, her timid explanation was traded for something even better.

"Oh she was just helping me figure out how to open my book!" The boy beside her, gallant in all his quirky behaviors, called out above her voice.

"Your book." Adrian Harris deadpanned, underwhelmingly unconvinced.

Stiles chuckled, his nervous fingers darting along the lab table as all eyes turned to him, including Christen's own appreciative ones. "You know me Mr. Harris, I'm always running into complications."

The Chemistry teacher glared at the three of them for a minute more, entirely infuriated, before he threw his hands up in the air dramatically and returned to the board, spinning on his finely polished loafers to fill the empty space with more useless information that the teenage girl was more than sure, she would never use in her life. Still, that didn't change the fact that she would need all of that useless information later for one of his exceedingly complicated tests, and she didn't feel the need to fail her midterm that was steadily approaching.

She didn't fail, however, to send the boy an wink as she whispered just near his ear. "Thanks, Stiles."

Her smile didn't dim when she felt him punch at the air between himself and Scott, muttering just loud enough for both of them to hear.

"Dude, Christen Collins knows my name!"