Jackson: If Lydia wants to take a naked hike in the woods, why should I care?
Scott: Because we have a pretty good idea that she might be– you know, turning.
Scott: Yeah. Turning.
Stiles: A unicorn. What do you think, dumbass?
Gerard: Gentlemen! Take a look at a rare sight. You wanna tell them what we've caught?
Chris: An Omega.
Gerard: The lone wolf! Possibly kicked out of his own pack. Or the survivor of a pack that was hunted down. Maybe even murdered. And possibly alone by his own choice. Certainly not a wise choice. Because, as I am about to demonstrate– an Omega rarely survives– On his own.
Stiles: Well, he's failing two classes, he's a little socially awkward, and if you look closely his jaw line is a little uneven.
Coach: Huh, interesting.
Coach: McCall! You come out of that goal one more time, and you'll be doing suicide runs until you die. It'll be the first ever suicide run that actually end in a suicide.
Sheriff: You're telling me that you knew Isaac's father was hitting him?
Jackson: Hitting him? He was kicking the crap out of him.
Sheriff: Did you ever say anything to anyone? A teacher, parents, anyone?
Jackson: Nope. It's not my problem.
Sheriff: No, no, of course not. You know, it's funny that the kids getting beaten up are always the ones who least deserve it.
Stiles: Alright, I'm with you. And I also gotta say that this new-found heroism is making me very attracted to you.
Scott McCall: Shut up.
Stiles: No seriously. Do you wanna just try makin' out for a sec? Just to see how it feels?
Derek Hale: Can you get me out of here before I drown?
Stiles: You're worried about drowning? Did you notice the thing out there with multiple rows of razor sharp teeth?
Derek Hale: Did you notice that I'm paralyzed from the neck down in 8 feet of water?
Chris: No offense, Scott. But I think maybe Allison felt the two of you were just growing apart?
Gerard: As if the father's opinion isn't biased. How do you know they weren't as passionate as Romeo and Juliet?
Chris: Romeo and Juliet committed ritual suicide. We could use a little less passion.
Scott: How do we know it's not her?
Stiles: Because I looked into the eyes of that thing, okay? And what I saw was pure evil. And when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see 50% evil. All right, maybe 60. You know, but no more than 40 on a good day.
Stiles: If you harm one perfect strawberry blonde hair on her head, I'm gonna turn your little werewolf ass into a fur coat and give it to her as a birthday present.
Isaac: Really? I've never actually been to one of her big, invite–only birthday parties. I did ask her out once though.
Stiles: Sounds like the beginning to a heartfelt story. I'm gonna pass, thanks.
Isaac: It was the first day of freshman year–
Stiles: And you thought everything was gonna be different for you in high school, but she said no.
Isaac: Yeah. Yeah, she even laughed. Told me to come back when the bike I rode to school had an engine, not a chain.
Stiles: Mm, unrequited love's a bitch. Maybe you should write about it in English class, you know? Channel all that negative energy.
Isaac: Nah, I was thinking I'd channel it into killing her. I'm not very good at writing.
Allison: Just for one second, please, try and remember–
Lydia: Remember what?
Allison: Remember what it feels like. All of those times in school when you see him standing down the hall, and you cannot breathe until you're with him. Or those times in class when you– you can't stop looking at the clock because you know that he's standing right out there waiting for you. Don't you remember what that's like?
Allison: What do you mean, "no"? You've had boyfriends.
Lydia: None like that.
Stiles: All right, any clue where he's going?
Scott: To kill someone.
Stiles: Ah. That explains the claws, and the fangs, and all that. Good. Makes perfect sense now What? Scott, come on. I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, okay? Sarcasm is my only defense.
Scott: Dude, everyone in here is a dude. I think we're in a gay club.
Stiles: Man nothing gets past those keen werewolf senses, huh Scott.
Stiles: What do you mean what am I doing here? What? It's a club. It's a club, we were clubbing, you know? At the club.
Sheriff: Not exactly your type of club.
Stiles: Uh– well, dad– There's a conversation that we–
Sheriff: You're not gay.
Stiles: Wha– I could be.
Sheriff: Not dressed like that.
Allison: I can't hang out right now, Lydia.
Lydia: I don't need anyone to hang out with. I need someone to talk to.
Allison: I–I understand that it's important, but if it can just wait–
Lydia: Why is everyone always telling me to wait? Why can't anyone have "right now" available?
Melissa: I have to ground you. I am grounding you. You are grounded.
Scott: What about work?
Melissa: Fine. Other than work. And no TV.
Scott: My TV's broken.
Melissa: Then no computer.
Scott: I need the computer for school.
Melissa: Then no... uh... (glances at Stiles) No Stiles.
Stiles: What?! No Stiles?!
Melissa: NO STILES!
Jackson: I have a restraining order!
Scott: Trust me, I restrained myself.
Erica: Stiles, you make a good Batman.
Derek: I need him.
Scott: I don't trust him.
Isaac: Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either.
Derek: You know what? And Derek really doesn't care.
Stiles: Are you gonna apologize to Allison or what?
Scott: Why should I apologize?
Stiles: Because you're the guy. It's, like, what we do.
Scott: But I didn't do anything wrong.
Stiles: Then you should definitely apologize. See, any time a guy thinks he hasn't done anything wrong, it means he's definitely done something wrong.
Scott: Why do you care, anyway?
Stiles: Because, Scott, something's gotta go right here. I mean, we're getting our asses royally kicked, if you haven't noticed. People are dying. I got my dad fired. You're gonna be held back in school. I'm in love with a nutjob. And if on top of all that, I gotta watch you lose Allison to a stalker like Matt, I'm gonna stab myself in the face.
Isaac: How do you not feel this?
Derek: I feel every second of it.
Isaac: Then how do you control it?
Derek: Find an anchor. Something meaningful to you. Bind yourself to it. Keep the human side in control.
Sheriff: All right, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive. I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?
Stiles: Isn't it obvious? Our swim team sucks! They haven't won in, like, six years. Okay, we don't have a motive yet.
Matt: Well Derek not everyone's lucky enough to be a big bad werewolf. Oh, yeah that's... that's right I learned a few things lately. Werewolfs, Hunters, Kanimas, it's like a freaking halloween party every full moon. Exept for you Stiles, what do you turn into?
Stiles: Abominable snowman. But it's more like a wintertime thing. You know, seasonal.
Derek: Get him off of me.
Matt: Oh, I don't know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must kinda suck, though, to have all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless.
Derek: Still got some teeth. Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll see how helpless I am.
Matt: You know, I–I feel sorry for you, McCall, 'cause right now, you're thinkin', "how am I
gonna explain this when it heals?" And the sad part is, you don't even realize how incredible it is that you actually are healing. 'Cause you know what happens to everyone else when they get shot? They die.
Stiles: You know when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called voluntary apnea. It's like no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. But then when you finally do let it in, that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore. It's- it's actually kind of peaceful.
Stiles: Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one. And by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. And not just of her though. I mean, he photoshopped himself into these pictures. Stuff like them holding hands and kissing. You know, like he had built this whole fake relationship. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train.
Stiles: I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible's about to happen.
Ms. Morrell: It's called hyper-vigilance, the persistent feeling of being under threat.
Stiles: But it's not just a feeling, though. It's– it's like it's a panic attack. You know, like I can't even breathe.
Ms. Morrell: Like you're drowning?
Ms. Morrell: So if you're drowning, and you're trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment, what if you choose to not open your mouth? To not let the water in?
Stiles: You do anyway. It's a reflex.
Ms. Morrell: But if you hold off until that reflex kicks in, you have more time, right?
Stiles: Not much time.
Ms. Morrell: But more time to fight your way to the surface?
Stiles: I guess.
Ms. Morrell: More time to be rescued?
Stiles: More time to be in agonizing pain. I mean, did you forget about the part where you feel like your head's exploding?
Ms. Morrell: If it's about survival, isn't a little agony worth it?
Stiles: But what if it just gets worse? What if it's agony now and then– and it's just hell later on?
Ms. Morrell: Then think about something Winston Churchill once said– "If you're going through hell, keep going."
Boyd: We lost, Derek. And it's over. We're leaving.
Derek: No. No, you're running. And once you start, you don't stop. You'll always be running.
Isaac: Why does it smell like that? What?
Deaton: Scott said almost the same thing to me a few months ago. One day he could somehow tell the difference between which animals were getting better and which were not.
Isaac: He's not getting better, is he? Like cancer.
Deaton: Osteosarcoma. It has a very distinct scent, doesn't it? Come here. I know you're well aware of what your new abilities can do for you. Improved strength, speed, and healing. You ever wonder what it could do for others? Give me your hand. Go on.
Isaac. What did I do?
Scott: You took some of his pain away.
Deaton: Only a little bit. But sometimes a little can make quite a difference.
Peter: Quite the situation you've got yourself in here Derek, I mean, I'm out of commission for a few week and suddenly there's lizard poeple, geratric psychopaths, and you're cooking up werewolves out of every self-esteem deprived adolescent in town.
Scott: So, why are you telling me?
Isaac: I'm not telling you. I'm asking you. I'm asking for your advice.
Scott: From me? Why?
Isaac: Because I trust you.
Isaac: Because you always seem to want to do the right thing.
Scott: I usually have no idea what I'm doing. Actually I always have no idea what I'm doing.
Isaac: Hmm. Do you want to let me know what you're doing right now?
Scott: I'm not going anywhere if that's what you mean. I have too many people here who need me.
Isaac: Well, I guess that makes me lucky 'cause uh– 'cause I don't have anyone, so...
Peter: Come on, do it. Hit me, hit me. I can see that it's cathartic for you. You're letting go of all the anger, self–loathing, and hatred that comes with total and complete failure. I may be the one taking the beating, Derek, but you've already been beaten. So, go ahead. Hit me if it will make you feel better. After all, I did say that I wanted to help.
Coach: You're in for Greenberg.
Stiles: What? What happened to Greenberg?
Coach: What happened to Greenberg? He sucks. You suck slightly less.
Stiles: I'm playing? On the field? With the team?
Coach: Yes, unless you'd rather play with yourself.
Stiles: I already did that today, twice.
Derek: Why would I want help from a total psycho?
Peter: First of all, I'm not a total psycho. And by the way, you're the one that slashed my throat wide open.
Isaac: Who is he?
Scott: That's Peter, Derek's Uncle. Little while back, he tried to kill us all, and then we set him on fire, and Derek slashed his throat.
Isaac: That's good to know.
Derek: What is that, a book?
Peter: No. It's a laptop. What century are you living in?
Derek: They say he's in some kind of transparent casing made from the venom coming out of his claws.
Peter: That sounds sufficiently terrifying.
Derek: They also say he's starting to move.
Peter: Okay, look, I think I found something. Looks like what we've seen from Jackson is just the kanima's beta shape.
Derek: Well, meaning what? It can turn into something bigger?
Peter: Bigger and badder.
Derek: He's turning into that? That has wings.
Peter: I can see that.
Derek: Scott, bring him to us.
Scott: I'm not sure if we have time for that.
Peter: Look, somebody actually made an animation of it. Maybe it's less frightening if we– Nope, not at all.
Stiles: How much do you know about this stuff?
Lydia: Pieces. Half of it's like a dream.
Stiles: Yeah, well, guess what? The other half is like a freaking nightmare.
Stiles: See, that's the problem. You–you don't care about getting hurt. But you know how I'll feel? I'll be devastated. And if you die, I will literally go out of my freakin' mind. You see, death doesn't happen to you, Lydia. It happens to everyone around you, okay? To all the people left standing at your funeral, trying to figure out how they're gonna live the rest of their lives now without you in it?
Sheriff: Ah. Listen– I know that getting beaten up, and with what happened to Jackson, has gotten you pretty shaken. But be happy about one thing. The game. You were amazing.
Stiles: Thanks, dad.
Sheriff: No, I mean it. Look, it was pretty much over. And then you got the ball, and you started running. You scored, and the tide just turned. And you scored again and again. You weren't just MVP of the game. You were a hero.
Stiles: No, I'm not a hero, dad.
Allison: Scott, I'm trying to break up with you.
Scott: I know. And it's okay.
Allison: How is that okay?
Scott: Because I can wait.
Allison: I can't make you wait for me. I'm not going to do that.
Scott: You don't have to. Because I know we're gonna be together.
Allison: There's no such thing as fate.
Scott: There's no such thing as werewolves.