I’ll take that threat as a challenge.

Stiles stopped abruptly, eyes wide as he suddenly couldn’t feel his everything. He stared at the sky around him that was now foggy, like looking through misted glass. 

"I’m dead?" He asked himself and the world, shocked to say the least at how he found himself in this predicament. Surely he wasn’t dead. How did he even die? He couldn’t remember a thing about what had been happening previously.

That’s when a long, black wolf figure curled around his ghostly body and held him close. It practically mouthed at his head as their ghost-like tails intertwined and though Stiles was in a state of complete dismay and angst at now being dead… he felt safe in this wolf’s arm. As though they were… destined somehow… through their spirits… to be companions. Spirit Companions… or some other term, he wasn’t sure what that was. He was too distraught from sudden death and the wolf ghost basically sucking on his head.

Stiles shot up in bed, sweating and flailing, arms grabbing at his legs to make sure he was still there. Whole and not transparent. He was, thankfully, still alive and that had only been a dream… but what could it possibly mean Stiles asked himself as he glanced around his room to see Derek Hale lurking in the corner, to which he promptly screamed like a little girl and hid under his covers until daylight.