A MOVE TO THE DAWN

After getting some food and sleep, Lydia and Scott met back at the hospital midway into the next day to find Stiles awake. After various hellos and entreaties as to everyone's health, Scott and Lydia pulled up chairs and reconstructed everything about the evening that Stiles hadn't heard. His eyebrows gradually raised until they were done.

"So you and Allison are back together?" he asked.

"Yup," Scott replied, trying not to grin like an idiot.

Stiles shook his head at the grin. "Whatever makes you happy, dude," he said. "I think you'd be better off dating my Jeep. And to be clear, I still hate her. But we kinda saw this coming."

Scott glanced at Lydia, who nodded sheepishly. Yup. Didn't fool anyone, Scott thought. "Thanks, man," he said, bumping fists with Stiles. "That was almost encouraging."

Stiles settled back onto his hospital bed. "We can worry about the Argents later," he said. "What are we going to do about your Dad?"

Scott shook his head, looked away. "I haven't had time to really think about it," he replied.

"Well, what do we know?"

"For certain?" Scott asked, sitting back in his own chair. "My Dad and his girlfriend aren't here to help. They just want to collect my mother's life insurance, isolate me emotionally so I go out and get hooked on something, then dump me on juvenile hall. And that's it."

"Any ideas on how to stop them?" Stiles asked.

"Turn them into werewolves and let the Argents kill them?" Lydia asked.

Scott laughed. "Nothing that involves dying, please," he said.

"Is what they're doing legal?" Stiles asked. "It can't be legal, right?"

Stiles and Scott both looked at Lydia. "Why do you always look at me about things like this?" she asked. The two boys kept staring. "Ugh, fine," she said. "Yes, it is legal. So long as they file all the right paperwork, as Scott's guardian his father would have access to all of his assets. He wouldn't even have to disclose what those assets are until he's eighteen."

Stiles snapped his fingers and grinned at Scott. "See, I told you she always wanted to be a lawyer. She's smart, hot, well-spoken, and she can do that whole frigid-like-winter thing that lawyers have to be able to do."

Lydia gave him an annoyed look. "What if I am frigid-like-winter and it isn't an act?" she asked.

Stiles grinned again. "See, she can even bluff."

Lydia finally broke into a smile. "I'd hit you if you weren't already hurt," she said. "Anyway, I always wanted to be an astronaut."

Stiles and Scott looked at each other, then back at Lydia. "Really?" Scott asked, surprise etched across his voice.

Lydia tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Really," she replied. "Look, we're getting sidetracked here. Legally, they haven't done anything wrong, so we can't get them there. What does that leave us?"

"Transform in front of them and scare them away?" Stiles asked.

"Again, I don't think the Argents would appreciate it," Scott said. "And right now we really need to stay on their good side."

"What does your father do for work again?" Stiles asked, suddenly, a quizzical look on his face.

"He owns a company," Scott replied. "They make covers for pillows or something. I didn't really pay attention. Why?"

Stiles shook his head. "Not sure," he said. "It's just, my Dad was making a big deal about how your Dad kinda sucked at business. So, what, he moves away from Beacon Hills, with no money and no family, and half a decade later comes back with BMWs and a huge house and a successful company?"

"Weirder things have happened," Scott said. "Us, for instance."

"Okay, look at this way," Stiles said. "If he's really so successful, why bother with this scam?"

Scott opened his mouth, considered, then closed it. Slowly, he nodded. "Okay, you've got me there," he said.

Lydia grunted. "Maybe he's just a money-grubbing asshole?"

Scott shook his head. "No, this is too elaborate for that," he said. "I'm with Stiles, I think something else's going on here."

"Great," Lydia said. "So we've got more digging on daddy to do?"

"Looks like," Scott said. 'Great' is right. I'd be just as happy never seeing him again. "I'll give him a call and set up a meeting."

"And while you're meeting him, Lydia and I can check out his hotel room, see if we find something suspicious," Stiles said, moving to get up, then coughing and collapsing back onto the pillows.

"Maybe it'd be best if I check that out solo," Lydia said, eying Stiles quizzically.

Stiles grimaced. "Maybe."

***/\***

Allison excused herself from lunch – an awkward affair given how distracted her father obviously was and how angry her mother and aunt clearly were – and jogged upstairs. When she pushed her door open she stifled a shout. Scott was sitting on her bed.

"You have got to stop doing that," she said, walking into the room and quickly shutting the door.

Scott's brow furrowed. "Right," he said. "Sorry. I mean, it's not like I can knock on the front door. Your Dad would probably think I'm trying to knock it down again."

"Point," Allison said. Scott's brow stayed furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"My Dad," Scott said, looking down. "I'm going to meet him again in about an hour. I – I don't know."

Allison crossed the room and sat on the bed next to him. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

Scott chuckled, looked up at her with a melancholy expression. "You already told me to just buck up and deal with it, remember?"

Allison backed up instantly. "Scott, that - " she started to say.

"Don't," Scott said, casting his eyes down again. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair of me."

Allison reached out delicately, grasped Scott's chin, and drew his face back to look at hers. "Don't stop me," she said. "We can't just pretend the last couple of months didn't happen."

Scott smiled. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, you're right."

"Anyway, what I was going to say," Allison said, "was that I wish I hadn't acted that way."

"Why did you?" Scott asked. "I mean besides Kate goading you."

Allison shrugged, sighed. "Trying to be tough, I guess," she replied. "That kind of thing is what hunters do. The code has a lot to say about how to act around you guys. It's all 'act tough, show no weakness.' That kind of thing."

"So your code is about being a dick?"

"The problem," Allison said, giving Scott a long look, "is that the code isn't really meant for – well, for you. You're too human."

"We're all still human, Allison," Scott said. "That's the problem with the code."

Allison shook her head. "Not all of you, Scott," she said. "You can't speak for all werewolves. Was Peter still human?"

Scott laid his head in his hands. "Could he have hurt me this much if he was just an animal?" he asked.

Allison wiggled closer to him and put her arms around him. "He wasn't just an animal," she said. "That was the problem. That's the problem with all werewolves – not to mention other creatures – who go rogue."

"Other creatures?" Scott asked, looking up.

"Yeah," Allison said, meeting his gaze. "Turns out there's kind of a lot out there."

"I think people suck enough," Scott muttered. For a second, he buried his face in his hands again, and Allison squeezed. Then – careful not to hurt her or throw her off – Scott stood. "I just don't know what to do about my Dad, that's all. I'm not going with him. Stiles is right, he's got to be dirty somehow. But unless he magically left evidence behind in their hotel for Lydia to find, I don't know how to get it out of him."

Allison stood and walked over to him. "Maybe you need to take a page out of our book," she said.

"You mean blow Candy's brains out in the woods?" Scott asked. He grimaced. "Sorry. Unfair. Probably going to take a while for me to stop doing that."

"I meant," Allison said, cutting past Scott's remark, "that you should lean on him a little. Don't be passive, be aggressive. He's not going to just offer you what you need, so you have to figure out a way to get him to give it to you. Manipulate him."

"All due respect, that one attempt to 'manipulate' us with the pictures was pretty weak," Scott said.

"That was Kate's idea," Allison said.

"Figures."

"The point is that you should put some muscle into him. Lean a little, then a lot, then go for broke. Whatever you think will move him – threats, money, social incentives."

Scott looked around at her. "Or all three."

***/\***

Scott sat on a park bench, trying his best to look agitated. Shouldn't be so hard, he thought. I'm the most mellow werewolf in the world. Or I just repress too much. Maybe I should be a shrink. When he saw his father approaching across the park, he amped up the agitation, knitting his brow and wringing his hands. This should do the trick.

He rose to meet his father. "Hello, Scott," his father said, beaming the car-salesman smile. "I was a little curious to hear you wanted to meet here in the park. Reliving some of the good old days? We had a few here."

"What?" Scott asked, letting the angry edge creep into his voice. No, serious, what's he talking about?

"Don't you remember?" his father asked. "We used to come here sometimes on the weekend and play frisbee. It was a lot of fun."

"Right," Scott said, nodding. "You always looked bored."

His father blanched. "I wasn't bored," he said, although he sounded completely unconvincing and flat.

"It's okay, that shit's over with," Scott said, trying his best to sound tough. Go for 'street,' he thought. "I'm more concerned with now."

"What do you mean?" his father asked. "And why'd you run out on us last night?"

Scott shook his head. "I had some business to take care of," he said. Ooh, that one sounded good. I'm so gangsta. "And that's what I mean, too. Business. Level with me, Dad – your company and their pillow covers didn't buy that BMW."

His father gave him a guarded look. "I'm not sure what you mean, son," he said, evenly. He's wary.

"I think you know exactly what I mean," Scott said, leaning forward. "You're into something. If we're going to do this whole family thing, I want into it, too."

Scott's father laughed. "What on Earth are you talking about?" he asked.

Scott leaned back. "You want to talk about good old days here? Fine, here are my good old days: none, none, and none. I've had it with this little shit town and its little shit people and its littlest, shittiest opportunities. I don't have the grades to even think about college, and while I'm damn good at lacrosse there's no way I could get discovered and do that much beyond high school. If I stay here I'm going to wind up with a nothing job and a nothing life."

Scott's father's brow was deeply furrowed. "Go on."

"If I go with you, whose to say that I'm not going to wind up with the same nothing life, just in a different place?" Scott asked. His father was nodding his head almost imperceptibly. Maybe even unconsciously, Scott thought. "So here's the deal. If you're really the pantywaist you've been pretending to be, I'm out. I'll go find somewhere else to dig out a living. But if you're actually into something good – and no fucking pillow covers – then I'll tag along. You show me the ropes – and I'll be your partner."

Scott's father looked at him for a long moment, his face unreadable. If he doesn't take the bait we'll have to move on to the threatening portion of our afternoon, Scott thought. And I'd really rather it not get that far. "The pillow covers are real," he said, after a moment. Ah, shit. "But they don't have pillows in them."

Maybe not shit. "What do they have in them?" Scott asked.

His father didn't respond for a second. Instead, he sat down on the bench, gazed around at the park. "I remember saying a lot of the same things you just said when I first left," he said. "I really did hate it here, you were right about that. Your Mom wasn't half bad in bed – otherwise you'd have never showed up – and it wasn't like I didn't want to be a father. I just couldn't be a failure, and that's all it seemed I could be here. God, I hate this place."

"Me, too," Scott said, sitting down next to him. "So let's take a shit all over this place. What's in the pillow covers?"

His father grinned at him. "If I tell you this, you're in all the way," he said. "There won't be any backing out. Do you understand that?"

"Am I fucking stuttering?" Scott asked, sneering. Okay, maybe Allison had a point about this being fun.

"That's my boy," his father said, and Scott's stomach turned. Keep lunch under control, he thought. He's not lying anymore. This is it. "It's heroin. We import from Canada through Toledo, Ohio, ship it by truck as "feathers" to the plant in Cincinnati, then stuff the pillows and send them out to all corners of the US. Right now, I only 'own' the operation in name – the guy who got me into this is in jail and needs a proxy. I get the car and a bigger cut of the money, but I'm always looking for something to bring in a little extra dough, 'cause honestly this could dry up at any time."

Scott sat, stunned, for a second. Well, you asked, some part of his subconscious thought. "That's it?" he asked.

His father nodded. "That's it," he confirmed. "It's not Hollywood, but sure isn't nothing. You in?"

Scott was dazed. "Yeah," he said. He shook his head. "Uh, yes. Yes, I'm in."

"Good," his father said. He punched him the shoulder. "This park really does suck. There really is a park not too far from the house in Cinncinati where chicks go to sunbathe. We'll be sure to hit it when we get back. First thing. What do you say?"

"What about Candy?" Scott asked.

"Ah, she's just the flavor of the week," his father replied. He grinned. "Bad pun, right? But serious, I just figured everyone'd think I was more stable if I showed up with a girlfriend, and what Candy and I do at night makes her the closest candidate. But she's nothing, really. So what do you say to the park?"

"Sounds good," Scott said. "But, uh, that business from the other night? I'm not quite done with it. Got a few loose ends to tie up. Then maybe we can get going."

"That sounds good," Scott's father said. "I didn't miss this disphit town. But, you know," he said, looking at Scott with some genuine surprise, "I think I missed you. Didn't even know it. How about that?"

Scott shook his head. I really wish he was still lying, at least a little, he thought. "Yeah, how about that," he said. He rose from the bench. "I'll call you later and we'll set something up to finalize all the details. Okay?"

"Sure thing, son," Scott's father said, standing too. He offered a hand, which Scott shook. Ten minutes ago I'd have been tempted to rip his arm off, he thought. Guess maybe I'll be doing worse. "It's good to have you back with me."

Scott nodded and turned on a heel. He could hear his father's heartbeat receding, then a sudden change in pitch and tone signaled that he'd gotten into his car. Once Scott was sure he was out of sight, he reached under his shirt and removed the microphone – the same one they'd used to bug Kate's car. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the sheriff's number. "Sheriff Stilinski?" he said into the phone once the sheriff picked up. "I have something I think you'll want to listen to."

***/\***

Only a few minutes later, Allison came down the stairs again in search of a snack, to find her father sitting at the kitchen table. He was nodding to himself. "Get your bow, honey," he said, without looking at her. "I hope you're not going to need it, but we need to be prepared."

Allison's blood ran cold. "Why?" she asked. Not now! she screamed in her head. Don't ruin this already!

"I'm calling Scott," Chris replied. "I've come to a decision. We're going to have a trial of sorts, let Lee and Roth speak for themselves. And then we'll pass judgment. I figure Scott and Lydia will want to be there – need to be there if they're going to be witnesses. Just in case they don't like whatever we decide – like I said, we need to be prepared. If we do this right we can make the right choice here."

Allison shook her head. "We have to do this today?" she asked.

Her father finally looked around at her, his eyes incredulous. "Did you have something more important to do?" he asked.

"No," she said. "But Scott - "

She stopped. Her father was still staring. "What about him?"

"He may have something to do," she finished, lamely. "You know, life stuff. He might not like us calling him whenever."

Chris rose out of his chair. "Allison, Scott is an Alpha now," he said, as though Allison didn't know. "These things are what are most important to him. He doesn't have 'life stuff' anymore, at least nothing as important as this. Now go get your bow. I'll call him."

He turned his back. Allison's eyes started to well up. You still don't get it, not all the way, she thought. This is going to be a disaster. Nevertheless, she turned on her heel and marched up the stairs. She met Kate on the landing at the top. "What's up?" Kate asked. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"We're going to have a trial for Roth and Lee," Allison replied, mechanically. "Dad thinks there might be trouble with Scott and Lydia – they're invited – so I'm bringing my bow."

Kate grinned. "Excellent, trouble," she said. "Maybe we'll finally get to dispose of the two dogs. Oh, I'm sorry, is that going to make you all glum, now that Scott's your little toy again?"

"He's not my toy," Allison grumbled, turning toward her room to retrieve her bow.

Kate laid a hand on Allison's shoulder. "Trust me, honey, it's much better if you think of them that way. I'll grab my gun, you guys are going to need backup for this."

Twenty minutes later, Chris, Kate, and Allison – all armed – were standing in front of a log cabin on a small stream in the woods. Scott and Lydia both appeared from around the corner of the cabin without a sound, startling the three hunters. I've got to ask him later how they do that, Allison thought. If we all survive this. Maybe we should start planning better dates, too.

Scott looked at the cabin, then back at Chris. "This is where you decided to keep them? Really?"

"Figured it'd be the last place you'd look," Chris replied, shrugging. "I thought about using the old Hale house – never miss a good opportunity for irony, it's one of life's few simple pleasures – but it turns out it's pretty hard to keep someone confined there."

"Well, actually - " Kate started.

"Let's not go down that road, shall we?" Allison interrupted. "We're here. Let's just do this."

Chris nodded, but when he gestured for Lydia and Scott to enter, the two werewolves just stood, regarding him with skeptical expressions, until he finally acquiesced and he and Kate entered first. Allison followed behind them, casting an apologetic look at Scott.

The light inside the cabin was dim. The two accused rapists were bound with chains in the very center of the room, being watched by a pair of other hunters. Chris spoke a couple of words to one of the guards and they both slipped out through the front door, though Allison would have been surprised if they'd truly left. He'll want the backup on hand, she thought. In case Scott and Lydia lose it. They're outnumbered even if you take me out of the equation – and if it comes down to it will I shoot Scott or my father? Even thinking those last words took enormous effort from Allison.

Kate circled around to stand behind Lee and Roth. Chris took up a position in front of them. Lydia and Scott also stood in front of them, to Chris' left. Allison circled around to Chris' right, an arrow already drawn against the bowstring. "Lee, Roth, we've come here today to hear what you have to say for yourselves," Chris said. "Scott and Lydia have requested that you die for what you tried to do to her. Now you get a chance to explain in your own words."

Kate chuckled. "Ten bucks we prove them not guilty in under ten minutes."

Chris ignored her, looked directly at Lee. "Lee, did you try to rape Lydia Martin?" he asked.

"No," Lee replied. He grinned a stupid grin. "Trial over? Can we go home now?"

"Not quite yet," Chris said. Allison eyed Scott and Lydia. Neither of the two werewolves had reacted to Kate's provocative statement or to Lee's irreverent tone. Instead, both were watching her father with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. Chris' voice seemed even and calm, but underneath it she could hear the slightest note of stress that gave away the fact that he, too, was aware of just how closely he was being watched. "We have a few more questions to ask. If you didn't try to rape her, how'd she wind up not wearing pants?"

Lee shrugged. "Don't know," he said. "I don't remember her taking off her pants, so I guess I don't know what you're talking about."

"She didn't take off her pants," Chris said. "The allegation is that you did it."

"My mistake," Lee said, slowly, grinning again.

"Maybe you'd like to explain what happened, then," Chris said. "And why Stiles Stilinski is currently in the hospital."

"They got out of control," Lee said. "We put the kid down, and knocked the bitch out with Wolfsbane. Her Alpha showed up and knocked us out. If she lost her pants, musta happened after we were out. End of story."

Chris nodded. "Plausible enough," he said. "How'd they get out of control?"
"The kid was mouthing off," Lee replied. "He took a swing at me and it went from there."

"Okay," Chris said. "Next point, for Roth – do you know that Scott bolted from the restaurant very suddenly?"

"Yeah," Roth said. "You told us when you called."

"Right, when I called," Chris said. "Do you remember what you said when I called?"

"Uh," Roth said. "I told you everything was normal and okay."

"Right," Chris said. "So I guess Stiles hadn't started the fight yet. Now, I've seen the text message – 'SOS' – and that, gentlemen, is what triggered Scott to bolt from the restaurant. I wonder, why would Stiles send an 'SOS' to Scott if nothing had happened yet?"

"Maybe it was like a code word or something," Lee said. "To let the Alpha know he was about to start shit. Come on, boss, isn't that enough of this shit? Just let us go."

"Not yet," Chris said, holding up a hand. The hand just so happened to contain his pistol. "So, okay, let's operate under the assumption that 'SOS' was a code word Stiles was using to alert Scott that trouble was about to start. It would only have taken Scott a few minutes to cross town in his Alpha form, and the trouble itself couldn't have started until after I called you, which was at least three minutes after Scott bolted from the restaurant. So you managed to subdue Lydia with Wolfsbane and cause Stiles' injuries in only a couple of minutes?"

"I guess we went a little hard on the kid," Lee said. "God damn, that's enough. Chris, we're your friends."

"Right now, I'm your leader, not your friend," Chris said, speaking quickly and angrily. "And I need to get to the bottom of this. Did Lydia come to?"

"What?" Lee asked, clearly confused at both Chris' speed and tone.

"Did Lydia wake up before Scott arrived?"

"Yes," Lee said. "Yeah, she did. And she attacked us."

"How'd she come to?"

"I put the Wolfsbane in my jacket. And I took my jacket off. Stupid mistake, I know, but sometimes shit happens."

"And why'd you take your jacket off?"

"It was hot down there," Lee said. "Geez."

"I've been in that basement," Chris said. "For a boiler room, it's definitely, definitely not hot. So let me get this straight. Stiles sends a text to Scott. Scott bolts from the restaurant. I call you and you verify everything's okay. A fight starts. You subdue Lydia with Wolfsbane and practically beat Stiles into a coma. You take off your jacket and Lydia comes out of the Wolfsbane-induced haze enough to attack you. Then the Alpha shows up and knocks you out."

"Maybe he's a slow Alpha!"

"And why didn't you call me once you'd subdued Lydia and Stiles?" Chris asked. "You know that's procedure."

Lee looked furious. "Like you said! There wasn't enough time! It all happened fast!"

"But you just said Scott must be a slow Alpha. Which is it?"

"I don't know! Both!"

Chris looked at Roth, raised his gun at him. "Answer me right now," he said. "How'd the fight start?"

"The kid took a swing at me," Roth replied immediately.

Chris was staring daggers into the man. "At the beginning of this conversation, Lee said the kid took a swing at him. Which is it?"

"Uh," Roth said. "No, it was me."

"Was Lee wrong?"

"He took a swing at both of us. You know."

"I don't know. So he attacked both of you, but you still managed to subdue Lydia with Wolfsbane."

"I subdued the kid. Lee put down the bitch."

"After he attacked both of you? That's good work."

"We're good. You trained us."

"But then Lee took off his jacket and accidentally discarded it."

"Simple mistake. Dumb, but simple."

"And what," Chris said, cocking the hammer of the gun, "do you suppose Lee was thinking, taking off his jacket, with a teenage girl prone at his feet and the knowledge that I wouldn't be coming to interrupt any time soon?"

Roth sneered. "I don't know."

"What did he say?"

"I don't know. Some shit. Nothing important."

"Why didn't you call me? He had enough time to say some stupid shit, but you didn't have enough time to call me to advise me of your change of situation?"

"I don't know!"

"How'd she wind up without any pants on? Why'd you beat Stiles so badly? How could it have taken so long for Scott to get there? Why would Lee take off his jacket in a basement that's usually about forty degrees?"

"I don't know! I don't know!"

"Save it," Lee said, looking sideways at Roth. "He's clearly siding with them anyway. Son of a bitch has become a dog lover."

"Save the epithets," Chris said, lowering his gun. "They're not going to goad me. I'd tell you that you know better than to try, but I'm left questioning just what you know better than. Answer me this, Lee: if given an opportunity, would you rape a teenage girl?"

"Absolutely not," he said. "We've talked about that stuff, Chris. You know I'm done with that."

"We have talked about that," Chris said. "Now, answer me this: would you rape a werewolf?"

Lee blanched, didn't respond. "The silence is deafening, Lee," Chris said.

Lee shook his head, finally seemed to snap. "Fine, you want to hear the answer?" he asked. Roth tried to shush him, but Lee just gave him a contemptuous look. "Yeah, I'd fuck that thing over there. It's like Kate says, a few minutes of fun, but then you have to put them down. And you can't rape a thing like that."

Kate was definitely not chuckling anymore. Allison couldn't read her expression, but she could detect a very small, slight facial twitch. Looking closer, Allison realized she'd never seen the expression on Kate's face before; the woman standing behind the two bound hunters practically didn't resemble the aunt she knew.

Chris nodded. "I was hoping that one of you would break down and admit the truth," he said. He turned, walked over to one of the windows, picked something up and carried it over. It was a belt. "This is the belt Lydia was wearing that night. I found it myself in the basement. It was cut off of her. A werewolf's claws would have sliced through it like butter, but this clearly was sawed at. You were the only one with a knife down there, Lee. Now, I'll ask one more time. Did you try to rape Lydia Martin?"

"I'm through explaining shit to you," Lee said, and spat on the ground between himself and Chris.

Chris nodded. He replaced his gun in his belt. "Then that's that," he said. He turned to Scott and Lydia. "I told you before. I can't kill them. I can promise you that they'll spend the rest of their lives in a very dark, very lonely hole in the ground, away from everything. We have methods of containment that are – well, a little draconian, but applicable here."

Scott shook his head. "That's not good enough," he said, eying Lydia. He nodded at Lee. "That one, at least, dies. No matter who does it."

Allison felt her breath catch.

To her surprise, her father nodded again. "I figured as much," he said. "I've given this careful consideration. You asked me once, Scott, if I thought werewolves can ever have a good reason to kill people. I think this is just such a situation." He looked down at the bound forms of Roth and Lee with a mingling group of emotions on his face – disappointment, of all things, seemed chief among them. "I would kill them myself, but the code forbids it. But, this time, I will allow you to carry out the execution. I understand full well that you are not killing because you are werewolves – you managed to sit through that charade without taking provocation, which, I have to admit, was something of a test itself – and this will not be held against you by our kind. I give you my word."

Chris bowed his head and stepped back. Scott looked utterly bewildered. Neither of us saw this coming, Allison thought. She saw Scott's claws extend. Oh, Scott. Please don't do this. Even with his blessing, please don't do this. You promised.

Scott stepped up to the two men, looking down at his claws as though he were seeing them for the first time. Lydia stepped up next to him, her own claws sprouting. For a second both of them stood there. Then, slowly, Scott raised his hand until it was poised over his head for a killing strike. There it stayed, much longer than necessary. It started to tremble, then shake, then shake violently, until finally he lowered it. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, Lydia, but I can't do it. I keep coming back to that night in the Argents' kitchen. We're not killers. Even now, I know I'm not, and I can't be because then I wouldn't be me anymore."

"It's okay," Lydia replied, her voice betraying barely-maintained calm. "I said I could do it, Scott, remember?"

"No, you can't," Scott said. "I'm not going to stop you this time, Lydia. But I don't have to. You're not a killer, either. I love you – you're my sister – and I know you're not a killer."

Lydia also began to raise her clawed hand, but she didn't even get it all the way up over her head before she was overcome by trembling sobs. She collapsed sideways against Scott, who wrapped his arms around her. Through her sobs, she spoke. "But they have to die."

"Yeah," Scott said. "And someday they will."

"Yeah," Kate echoed, although her voice sounded far off and alien. "Today."

She pointed her gun at the back of Lee's head and pulled the trigger. His face exploded forward and he slumped down. Roth had just enough time to look down at his fallen comrade and start to say Kate's name before Kate turned her gun on him and pulled the trigger, splattering his brains all over the cabin floor as well.

There was a very slight echo of the gunshot in the cabin. All were left staring at Kate. Allison opened her mouth and the only words she could think came spilling out. "Uh, what?"

Kate holstered her gun. She was visibly trying to bring her emotions under control, but Allison couldn't even begin to guess what was going through her aunt's mind. It really is like she's a completely different person, she thought. What the hell is this? "Like the girl said, these two deserve to die," she said. "You know how I feel about things like that. Keep it simple. If he deserves to die, he dies."

Chris, of all of them, looked the most shocked. "Kate, we don't kill humans!" he said, once he'd recovered enough to speak. "We went over this thoroughly after I found out about your role in the Hale fire."

"Do you really think these two qualified as human?" Kate asked, some of her trademark hardness returning. "Come on, Chris, everyone in this room – well, except them – thought they deserved it. What does it matter if the dogs do it or if I do? Result's the same."

"That's not the point," Chris said.

"So what's the point?" Kate asked. "That we're better than doing what we think is the right thing? How does that make sense?"

"You're twisting it around," Chris said.

"No, you're twisting it around," Kate replied. "I'm straightening it out. They deserve to die. They're dead. I've just about had it with you, brother."

She headed for the door. "Kate, wait," Chris said, following her out, leaving Scott, Lydia, and Allison standing in the cabin with the two dead hunters.

Allison walked up to join Scott and Lydia in front of the two fresh corpses. "Anyone else still completely confused about that?" Allison asked.

"She's your aunt," Lydia pointed out, a little haughtily.

"Not really," Allison said, looking at all the blood. She realized both Scott and Lydia had started. "I mean, yeah, she is my aunt, but she wasn't acting like the Aunt Kate I know. Until that last bit, but even that was off."

"You know, I have wondered, now and again, why your aunt is the way she is," Scott said, also staring at the blood of the executed hunters. "I think maybe we got a little closer to whatever it is with all this."

"What do you mean?" Allison asked.

"I thought her problem was with werewolves," Scott said. "You know, I think it still is, to a certain extent. But I think her real problem is with men."

"You don't think – I mean, that Kate was - "

Scott held up his hands. "I don't know," he said. "I'm just saying. As soon as she realized that they did try to rape Lydia, it messed with her head big time. As for why – well, we may never know that."

"Guys?" Lydia asked. Allison and Scott looked up from the pooling blood to the redhead. "Two people were just executed gangland style right in front of us and we're having a casual conversation."

Scott laughed, without mirth. "Must be Tuesday."

"How'd the thing with your father go?" Allison asked.

"Got everything we needed," Scott said. "He's a drug dealer. Or a drug distributor, I guess would be a better term. I don't know, there's probably some weird term for what he does. He sends heroin out to the people who sell it. I got him to admit it on recording."

"Which is good, seeing as I didn't find squat in their hotel room," Lydia muttered.

"I dropped the recording off at the Sheriff's," Scott said. "My Dad will be in custody by sundown. He's probably going to spend quite a while in jail. Because I'm putting him there."

"You sound sad about it," Allison said. "I thought you were practically ready to tear him apart."

"Guess I got nostalgic," Scott replied. "Miss having a family, you know? It was nice hearing my father genuinely say he missed me. Only took me pretending to be a complete asshole to do it, but still."

Allison took Scott's hand. "Hey," she said. "We're your family now. Remember that."

Scott smiled at her. "Of course," he said. "Listen, I need to get back to the Sheriff's. Lydia, are you - "

"Hospital," she said. "I'll let Stiles know what happened. Call me once the thing with your Dad is done."

Scott nodded, also disappeared through the door in the cabin. Allison went to follow, but Lydia caught her arm. Allison turned to see a determined expression on Lydia's face. "We need to talk," the redheaded werewolf said.

"Sure," Allison said. "I was hoping you'd want to."

"Okay, let me rephrase," Lydia said. "For now, I have something to say to you, which you're going to listen to and understand. If you break his heart again, I'm going to rip yours out and eat it. Got it?"

"Lydia - "

"No," Lydia said. "No explanations. Scott wants to trust you, but Scott would give the whole world a hug sometimes if it was possible. So you need to understand – Scott is my family. Not yours. And if you hurt him again, I will do very bad things to you. Do you understand?"

Allison nodded. When'd she get so protective?

Lydia smiled a hostile smile. "Good," she said. "Then run along. I have to go see Stiles, and I doubt he'd be half as pleasant with you as I've been." She too passed through the door and disappeared into the woods, leaving Allison standing alone at the door to the cabin.

***/\***

When Scott pushed into the sheriff's office, Sheriff Stilinski was waiting for him. "We already picked your father up," he said, indicating that Scott sit down in the chair across from his desk. "We'll be shipping him back to Ohio for arraignment tomorrow. Cincinnati PD put some calls in at his 'pillow cover' factory and landed the single largest confiscation of heroin in the history of the United States. Between that and the recorded confession, he's going to be doing a lot of time."

Scott nodded. "I'd like to see him," he said.

The sheriff grimaced. "I don't know that that's a good idea," he said. "He's – well, he's pretty angry. Didn't take him more than a half second to figure out who'd turned him in."

"I figured he'd be angry," Scott said. "There's just something I have to get off my chest before he's gone. I doubt I'll get the chance to speak to him once he's transferred, even if I have to testify at the trial."

The sheriff nodded, stood. "Okay," he said. "But if you don't mind I'm going to observe to make sure it doesn't get out of hand."

Scott nodded, stood as well. "That's fine with me."

The sheriff lead the way to Scott's father. Scott was mildly surprised to find him already in a cell – hours of late-night Law and Order had more prepared him for an interrogation room at this stage – but it made sense. Interrogation wasn't necessary. His father was dead in the water. Upon seeing Scott and the sheriff approach, he stood. For a second his face was completely blank – took him by surprise I bet – but then he broke into an extremely fake relieved expression. "Scott," he said. "Thank God you're here. You can explain to the sheriff that this has all just been a mistake."

Scott shook his head. "You've made a lot of mistakes," he said. "The most recent was coming back, so I guess we'll just call that your biggest. I've just been wondering – would you still have taken the life insurance money?"

"What?" his father asked, the relieved mask slipping as he didn't understand the question.

"If all that 'we'll be partners' stuff had actually panned out, would you have still stolen my mother's fifty thousand dollar life insurance money from me?" Scott asked.

"How did you know - " his father began, but then he stopped. "No," he said. "No, I wouldn't have."

Scott nodded. He was lying just then, he thought. He turned to the sheriff. "That's all I needed."

He turned to go, but a strangled cry came from his father behind him. "Why are you doing this to me?" he asked.

Something about the question made Scott stop and turn back to look at him. "Why?" he asked. "I suppose that's a good question. When I went down to the park to meet you today, I had thought about just offering to let you take the money so long as you let me stay. But then I decided something. You know what I decided? That giving up like that might let me keep just living, but just living isn't all I want."

"Scott, I'll let you have the money," his father said, grabbing at the bars and leaning forward as far as possible. "Every dime, right away. You can do whatever you want with it. Just get me out of here."

"Okay, that's enough," the sheriff said. "You're trying to bribe a witness right in front of me. I never credited you with an abundance of brainpower, but that's a whole 'nother level of stupid."

"Besides, it's not his money to bribe me with," Scott replied. "It's mine already."

He turned to go again, only to hear his father again behind him. This time he sounded angry. "You think you can just get away with this, you little shit?" his father asked. "You just stung a lot more people than me. You better watch your back."

Scott turned one final time. "Actually, you're the idiot who trusted the son he barely knew with all the pertinent information about the drug empire you don't even own yourself," he said. "So really it's your fault all this came crashing down. Good luck in prison."

Scott and the sheriff exited the holding area. The sheriff led Scott back down to his office. Once they were sitting again, the sheriff leaned forward. "I don't suppose you want to tell me what that was about."

"Just confirming something," Scott said. "Personal stuff. I wanted to make sure the book was closed on my father. It is. It wouldn't have changed what's going to happen to him if he'd reacted better, but I still needed to know."

The sheriff sat back, shaking his head. "You've handled yourself remarkably well," he said. "I'm very proud of you, Scott. Between you putting your father in jail with dignity and Stiles standing up to those muggers, I'm starting to feel like the least manly man in the house."

Scott grinned. "We could always get you a cape and you could be a superhero."

The sheriff grinned back. "No, thanks," he said. "Listen, about all this though – for now, in light of all this, you're still definitely welcome to stay with us. I can petition the court for temporary custody of you. But, again, in light of how you've handled this – I think I might have been hasty in saying that a judge would deny you a petition for emancipation."

"Really?" Scott asked.

"Really," the sheriff replied. "Between your Mom's savings and the life insurance, your financial situation is decent, and we can probably find you a job without too much fuss." I had a job, Scott thought. God, I haven't spoken to Dr. Deaton in months. I totally forgot that he was a part of all this too. At some point I've got to get better at this whole Alpha thing. "I think we could manage a petition for emancipation. If that's what you want."

Scott nodded. "No offense," he said. "I appreciate what you and Stiles have done for me. But I'd like to live in my own house again."

"No offense taken," the sheriff said. "It's my pleasure to know you, Scott. You're a bright, level-headed, and moral young man. You'll always be welcome at the Stilinski house, but it'd also be my pleasure to help you get your own back."

The sheriff reached out a hand. Scott shook it.

***/\***

Lydia pushed into Stiles' hospital room. She opened her mouth to say something, but Stiles shushed her instantly, his eyes glued to the small TV on the wall of the room. She looked over at it and rolled her eyes. "You're not seriously watching Oprah."

"Hunger in Southeast Asia," Stiles said, waving her off. "I'm very socially conscious."

"Come on Stiles," she said, crossing the room and sitting down on his bed. "Turn off the TV."

Stiles grinned bigger than Christmas, picked up the remote, and turned off the TV. "You have no idea how many years I dreamed about you being the one trying to get my attention," he said. "Seriously, there were actual dreams just about that."

"You're such a dweeb."

"No no, you're not spoiling this high," he said. "I feel like I just climbed Mount Olympus and had tea with Zeus and he told me I'm his bro. No amount of sarcasm is going to bring me down."

Lydia punched his arm. "Such a dweeb." Stiles cringed and obviously tried really hard to keep Lydia from seeing his reaction, but she was long past the point where her werewolf senses were a new thing and between the tiny cringe and the tensing of his muscles she could tell she'd hurt him. "Sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Not that bad," Stiles said. "It's only a bruise on the arm. My ribs, on the other hand, those are broken. So don't go cracking any jokes. All it'll take is one hearty belly laugh and I'll probably pass out."

"They really did a number on you," Lydia said, looking over the visible cuts and bruising on Stiles' face. The medication the doctors had given him the night before had done wonders; he was no longer the unrecognizable blob of ground beef he'd been right after the beating.

"Well, that's 'cause they're bad people."

"They were bad people," Lydia said, giving Stiles a significant look.

She felt him stiffen again. "Who?" he asked. "Scott? Chris?"

"No," she said. "And not me, either. Kate killed them."

"Kate did?" Stiles asked. He reached up and rubbed at one of his eyes. "Okay, does that chick just like killing people or something?"

"Scott thinks her real problem is with men. Once she realized that Lee and Roth really did try to rape me, she got funny. Then she killed them. Once I couldn't."

Lydia looked away from Stiles' eyes at that statement. "Hey, what's wrong?" Stiles asked.

"I couldn't do it," Lydia said, tears threatening to well up in her eyes. Oh fuck tears, she thought. "I was right there, and I knew what they'd been planning to do to me, and I still couldn't bring myself to do it. Scott was saying all this stuff about me not being a killer, but the bottom line isn't that. It's that I was afraid."

To her surprise, Stiles nodded. "I think killing people's a pretty good thing to be afraid of," he said. "Me? I'm afraid of clowns. How much sense does that make?"

"Stiles," Lydia said, annoyed. "Be serious."

"I am serious," he said. "You know, for me. Like I said, killing people's a good thing to be afraid of. I mean, okay," he said, leaning forward as best he could, "why were you afraid to do it?"

"I don't know," Lydia said. "Maybe I'm just weak."

"Cut the maybes," Stiles said. "What were you feeling?"

"I don't know," Lydia responded. "I just couldn't do it."

"Because it felt wrong," Stiles said. "There's nothing weak about feeling wrong about killing, even about killing those scumbags. It means you're a good person, and not a murderer, because however justified killing them would have been, it would have still been murder."

Lydia wiped a tear away, smiled weakly. "Isn't that what Allison said to Scott?" she asked.

"Well, she might be a bitch, but she isn't necessarily always wrong," Stiles reasoned.

"Speaking of Allison, I told her I'd rip her heart out if she breaks Scott's again," Lydia said, her smile gaining strength.

"Thatta girl," Stiles said, gently. "See? No weakness there. I guess above all else you proved that despite what they were trying to do to you, they didn't change you. That's powerful, too." He reached for Lydia's hand, but on contact she flinched. Damn it. Stiles withdrew his hand immediately, as though he'd been burnt. "I'm sorry," he said. "Here we are talking about what they were trying to do to you and I go grabbing at your hand. You probably don't want to be touched right now."

Lydia's voice was very quiet. "I don't want to think about them when you touch me," she said, unable to meet Stiles' eyes.

"Uh," Stiles said, freezing completely. "Um, Lydia, I'm on a ton of drugs right now, so you're gonna maybe have to clarify that last statement so I don't take it wrong. I mean, I'll probably take it wrong anyway, but – um, what do you mean?"

Now or never. "Okay, listen," Lydia said. "This is going to sound like a giant cliché, but what you did for me last night – no one's ever done anything like that for me before. And you know, Scott's mentioned a couple of times that he thought there might be something between us, and I don't really know about that or anything else right now, but – well, you make me feel better. I'm kind of taking things one step at a time these days, you know? But there's something I'd like to do."

Stiles' eyes were in danger of disappearing off the top of his head. "You have my full permission to do whatever it is you want to do," he said. "In fact, whatever it is, you can do it twice."

Slowly, careful not to lean on him or put any pressure on any injured areas, Lydia snaked up the bed and pressed her lips gently against Stiles'. She was surprised at first to find his lips so soft – normal human lips I guess, she thought. After a second, she drew back. Stiles had the dopiest happy look on his face she'd ever seen. "I take it back," he said. "You can't do that twice."

"What?" Lydia asked. "What are you talking about?"

"You can do that a lot more than twice."

Lydia laughed as she started to lower her face back down to meet Stiles'. "Such a dweeb."

***/\***

Allison was sitting on her bed, reading a book, when she heard a tap at her window. Checking to make sure her door was shut, she crossed quickly and opened it. Instead of popping inside, Scott reached out and grabbed her hand. "It's a warm night," he said. Smiling, she let him pull her solidly through the window. She tripped a bit over the ledge but he caught her instantly. His arms could be made of steel, she thought, feeling the strong, immovable muscles under his shirt. She stifled a blush.

"What?" Scott asked, guiding her to a sitting position on the gray-blue roof tiles.

"Huh?" Allison replied, as he sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I didn't say anything."

"No, but your scent profile just changed," Scott said. "I – I'm not sure exactly what it is. Some people have very unique pheromones for different things."

Allison's blush got worse. And with any other boy I'd say thank god it's dark out, she thought. No luck with super-senses werewolf boyfriend. "You've probably smelled it before," she said. "I was thinking about your arms, and how strong they are, and how good they feel around me..." She trailed off, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"Oh," Scott said. He smiled, sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I do recognize it, now that you mention it. Guess that was subtle of me, huh?"

"Don't apologize," Allison said. "I need to get used to the fact that whenever my body reacts to you in any way, you can tell."

Scott grimaced. "Is that going to put you off?"

Allison considered. "Maybe sometimes," she said. "I can think of a few ways it'll turn me on, too, though. All things considered, I think our relationship is going to balance itself out."

Scott leaned forward. "How will it turn you on?" he asked.

Allison laughed. "That's all you heard out of that statement, isn't it?"

Scott leaned back again, looked up at the sky. "Maybe I've still got a little normal teenage boy left in me," he said.

Allison reached over, patted him on the shoulder. "I think you do," she said. "And give me some credit there for not making a joke about me having some normal teenage boy in me last night."

Scott blushed too. I just made a werewolf blush, Allison thought. Somehow that feels like an accomplishment. "Yeah, I guess you did," he said. Suddenly he sat up straight. "Oh my God," he said.

"What?" Allison asked, scanning the ground below them. "My parents?"

"No," Scott said. "Last night."

When he didn't go on, Allison licked her lips in nervous anticipation. "Uh, yeah," she said. "Last night. I kind of figured you didn't forget, but if you did..."

"We forgot," he said. "Protection."

Allison smiled slowly at him. Typical boy, late to the game. "Relax," she said. "I'm on the pill. Still wasn't a great idea, but I took a test this morning and it came back negative. Still, we should be – you know – more responsible, next time."

Scott's heart rate slowed down. Allison realized that claws had sprouted on his hands; the claws shrank back into his finger tips. Have to be careful with his anxiety level, Allison thought. She laughed to herself, mirthlessly. Yeah. Right. The way the last couple of months have gone, I doubt his anxiety level will ever get below 'insane.' "I wasn't thinking last night," he said.

Allison looked away. "I seem to remember you saying something about it being a bad idea," she said.

"I thought it was," Scott replied. He managed to catch her gaze. "I was trying so hard to hate you. You hurt me so bad – I don't think you could have if I didn't love you – but try as I might, I couldn't bring myself to hate you. It wore me out, trying. But last night wasn't a bad idea. It's putting us back on track. I mean, from now on we'll have to be responsible and stuff, but you know, we get to have that. I didn't think we would. Truth be told, I kind of thought your family would wind up killing me before we ever got a chance."

"They still might," Allison said, biting her lip. "Kill you, you know."

Scott sight, leaned back so that he was laying flat on the slanted roof. Laying down caused all his clothes to drape tight over his body, and Allison felt another hot twinge that Scott either didn't notice or ignored. "Yeah, I know," he replied. "The rapists are dealt with, and my father's gone packing, but the simple problem of werewolves and hunters is still here. We haven't really solved much, have we?"

"Maybe there is no solution," Allison said. "Or maybe this is the closest thing to a solution there is. Tense mutual respect and distrust."

Scott shook his head. "I don't believe that," he said.

There was a pause, Allison expecting him to say more. When he didn't, she spoke. "That's it? Just, 'I don't believe that,' and you leave it at that?"

"What else is there to say?" he asked back. "I don't believe that this arrangement between your family and me and Lydia is the best it can be. Think about the Hales – some of them married humans, humans who loved werewolves and who were loved back by werewolves, and they made it work."

"Until Kate killed them," Allison said, a note of defeat in her voice.

"Until Kate killed them," Scott agreed. "But that makes it all the more necessary that our two families try. If we can make this work between our two families, then we could set a trend for all the other hunters and werewolves out there. They could see that we really can get along."

Allison grinned. "You really have turned into quite the idealist."

"It's worth being one," Scott said. "Having something to believe in – like you've said, the most dangerous thing in the world is for a werewolf is to go completely wild. Having something to believe in, goals to achieve, standards to adhere to – it helps keep me human."

"What if it doesn't work?"

Scott grinned, taking Allison by surprise. He leaned over closer to her. Don't need werewolf senses to tell what's on his mind now, Allison thought. As he leaned over, his face caught the blue light of the just-beginning-to-wax, nearly full moon, and for a second his skin almost seemed to glow. "If it doesn't work," he said, bringing his lips down to meet hers, "I always have other things to help keep me grounded."

***/\***

A/N : So. That ends what I've come to think of as "Part 1" of this story. It might be a week or two before I start updating for "Part 2" - which will continue as new chapters on this story, not a separate story, because the whole thing will be draw in together. The next Part is going to be a little more "external"; I'll be introducing a few new, original characters and exploring the greater mythology of the story.