Hey guys! Love you all for the reviews! I didn't want our guest reviewer to die, so here. I know it's short, but I wanted to leave it at a cliff hanger cause I'm mean, I know. Luckily, I have shows all weekend so I will get to write more! Please review more with ideas, questions, comments, constructive criticism, or anything, about me, or the story! Thanks again! Mwah!

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Stiles, Bee, and Ace pulled up to a small neighborhood near the courts on 13th street. Bee kept crowding Stiles, worried for her friend.

They got to the door, and Ace walked in, "Gran?" He called out, moving in, while Bee stayed behind with Stiles.

The pair heard whispering while Bee led him to the couch, a few groans of pain drifted from Stiles when Bee would accidentally hit his ribs.

An elderly lady then entered carrying a kit, and shook her head with a purse of the lips. "Allistar, what the hell you doin standin around? Get to your house and get a new shirt!" Ace nodded his head and bolted out the door. "Bianca, get me a bowl of water and a clean washcloth this time! Get girl!" Bee followed the orders while the lady sat down.

"My friend Derek would like you." Stiles joked, with a smile on the lips. "He's very forceful, and straight to the point, no beating around the bush, ya know? Haha, bush. It's funny cause he's a- I mean yeah, anyway. He's just weird. Not that your weird! I mean you could be, but I don't know you well enough. I mean I... I will shut up, sorry." He looked away, biting his lip.

The women laughed and shook her head, "Boy, you remind me of someone that I haven't seen in quite a long time. Not take off that shirt and let's see that cut." She helped Stiles with getting the shirt off, "BIANCA! Also bring in a grocery bag!" She yelled out, wadding up the shirt into a ball, and setting it aside. "What's your name boy?" She asked while inspecting his side.

"I'm Stiles." He responded, flinching a bit when her cold hands bet his side.

Bianca returned, her eyes wondering over his naked torso, drifting slowly over his cut. "Here, Gran." She set down the rag and bowel, and put the ripped shirt in the bag.

"Go make up the spare room for... Stiles here." She shooed Bee away, lingering a moment on Stiles before heading off.

Ace then walked in with the shirt, "I got a shirt! Sorry, hard to find a clean one." He set the shirt down with a smile.

"Go help your sister in the spare room, Lord knows she needs it." Gran replied with a roll of the eyes. Just then a crash erupted throughout the house, with a loud curse. "WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE CHILD!" She yelled out, "Go, Allistar!"

Gran grabbed the washcloth and started wiping the blood off, gently. "So... Stiles. How old are you?" She questioned, as she finished up with cleaning his side, then moving to Peroxide, poring it down his side, holding the cloth to catch it.

"I am sixteen for a few more months." Stiles hissed out, "um, I am sorry I didn't catch your name." He looked over.

"Oh deary, I am so sorry, boy. Call me gran, everyone does in this neighborhood." She started stitching up his side then, "those two have been calling me that since they was born. They live next door, and boy have they been a handful!" She laughed. "Now, child, what's your real name, not your 'street name' or whatever that 'Ace' and 'Bee' nonsense is."

Stiles chuckled, "Stiles isn't my street name, it's Stills, Stiles is my real name pretty much, my real name is hard to pronounce, so I go by Stiles."

"I see, but do tell what it is." She smiled warmly.

Stiles looked back, wondering if he should tell her or not, he felt a wave of comfort in the house, no nervousness or anything. Just ease and comfort. "Genim, it was my great grandfathers name."

Gran froze then looking over at the boy. She quickly collected herself. She wiped down the cut from any blood that came out, and wrapped the bandage around him, then handed him the shirt.

"Stiles," gran stood up to retrieve a photo from the mantel and sat back down, handing it to him, "do you know who this is?"she pointed to a girl that looked around his age.

Stiles froze, holding the picture, "it looks like... It looks like mom." He looked up at her with wide eyes.