CHAPTER 21

A Small Town in New Hampshire

Mars breathed in the frigid air and hopped out of Ahmir's truck, taking the keys with her. She wasn't planning on taking too long, he wouldn't even notice it was gone.

She took in her surroundings; not entirely sure Danny had given her the right address.

The trailer park was mostly run down. There were a few nicer ones and double wide's scattered throughout but this wasn't one of them. It had white paneling in desperate need of a power wash and a ramp lead up to a handmade looking porch.

After checking the address one last time, Mars trekked up the ramp and knocked on the metal door. Yup, this is his house. Joyce stood in front of her, glowering down.

"Miss Moss, how lovely." Her red hair was pulled back into an uptight ponytail to reveal her rather harsh features. Mars could definitely see Joyce's resemblance to her sister, Victoria. And being reminded of Victoria, Mars thought of Allison's house and how huge and beautiful it was. It didn't seem fair, for this to be the same family. "Don's not here at the moment."

"His car's in the driveway." Mars gestured over her shoulder to the green 97' Honda Accord. "So, are we going to play dumb here or are you going to let me in?"

Joyce reluctantly opened the door a little wider and stepped to the side, knocking on the wall directly to her left. "Don, your girlfriend is here." Don walked out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee in his hands.

He wasn't sure who his mom was talking about, then he saw her. She waltzed down the hallway and went in the only open door.

"Well, well if it isn't Mars Moss." Don commented and shut his bedroom door behind him. "What brings you out to my neck of the woods?" Really, he just wanted to know how she'd found out where he lived. It wasn't something he boasted about.

Mars crossed her arms. "You didn't answer your phone." She looked around, feeling claustrophobic.

He'd put a full-sized bed in his room and it didn't leave much space for anything else. At the foot, there was a desk with a chair, both crammed in the small space just before the wall with the door. and there was only maybe a little under two feet between his bed and the wall to the left, his dresser was stuffed inside his closet.

"I wasn't aware I had an obligation to." Don, mimicked her and folded his arms over his chest, but not before running his hands through his too-long hair to stop it from falling in his face.

"You don't."

"Okay, so again. Why are you here exactly?" Don repeated, still not having figured it out. She'd literally never sought him out. Ever. Unless you count messages that said my house in 10, or things like that… but those were just to mess around.

"I wanted to… erm… accept that offer." Mars shifted, uncrossing her arms because it felt like her body language wasn't too convincing. "For a date."

Don expected his heart to leap or some bullshit like that- hearing her say she wanted him. But unfortunately, he didn't buy it, no matter how badly he wanted to. "You've got to be kidding me right now." Mars shook her head. "I think you made it pretty clear how you felt about that."

"I had a change of heart." Don had to resist rolling his eyes, she wanted something, he just didn't know what it was.

"I genuinely doubt that."

Mars groaned; "Do you want to go out to dinner or not?"

"No."

"Seriously?" Mars had never been rejected by him before, or rather anyone before, and she didn't like the feeling. "Back to the old arrangement then?" Don shook his head. "I didn't drive all the way over here for nothing."

"You don't have a license." He raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly." She noted, reminding herself she hadn't gone there for his sake, she'd gone to find something to make her believe Derek 100%. She looked around the small room, there had to be something. A gun maybe? A note? The only thing of even remote intrigue that she found was a couple of pamphlets sticking out of his binder. Don followed her eyes and scratched the back of his neck when she snatched them up. "Harvard, Brown, Dartmouth?" She read, flipping through them. "Dreaming big now are we?"

"It's better than not dreaming at all." He noted. "Besides, I've got the grades. I just have to keep them up."

"Really? You? You have the grades?" Mars laughed, if she didn't have the grades, he definitely didn't.

"Yes." Don stated, nonchalant. She faced away from him.

"You really can't wait to get out of here, huh?" He didn't respond. "Understood." Mars turned to face him, holding out the flyers in front of her. "Which one is your top?" Don picked out the green paper on the left and handed it back when she chucked the other two.

"They're a lacrosse school, so I think I can get a scholarship." He knew he'd never be able to afford an ivy-league without a scholarship, he wasn't stupid. Not only was Dartmouth his first choice anyways, but they were the only one who really gave any shits about sports. So, small town life in New Hampshire was what he was shooting for.

"What do you want to study?"

"Either biochem or molecular bio."

Mars's brows knit together, creating creases in her otherwise smooth forehead. "What are you gonna do? Cure cancer?"

"That's the plan, yeah." Mars put the pamphlet back with the others.

"You've got it all figured out then?"

Don looked her over for a second. "Not everything."

Mars sat on his bed, it was just as comfortable as it looked: not very. "Tell me something, Don. Why have we never talked before?"

"Not exactly on your list of priorities."

"Yeah, but I mean, we've chatted. I feel like I know nothing about you."

"That's because you don't." He sat beside her.

Suddenly defensive, Mars said; "Well it's not like you know anything about me either."

Really, he didn't. Well, he didn't know anything from being told. He racked his brain for things he'd put together just to spite her. "Your favorite color is red." It was the color of her bedroom.

"Favorite movie though you'd never admit it is Casablanca, considering you've made me watch it 10 times, you're not a big fan of your parents, but who can blame you." That was an easy one to figure out. "Your favorite author is George Orwell, with Adolfus Huxley being a close second." They were the novels he'd seen her with most frequently.

"You don't know where you want to go to college or if you do, but you know you'd like to be a editor." That one was just intuition. "You don't remember your little sister exists sometimes." Also obvious, considering she hardly ever mentioned Ineas.

"Oh, and I'm about 86% sure you don't know how to pronounce your first name." He smirked, he'd never once heard her say it- the only person he'd ever heard it from was Stiles, who shouted it down the hallway last year.

Mars didn't know how to respond, because he was right on all counts except of her name. She could say it. She chose not to. "When did I say any of that?"

"You didn't have to." He replied. "You're a lot easier to figure out than you think." He liked being the know-it-all manipulating the situation, considering he was so rarely on that side of things. "You're not some grand, mysterious puzzle to be solved, stop acting like it."

He knocked Mars's ego down quite a few pegs, leaving her thinking, am I really like that? Do I really do that? "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated." He sighed when he saw her looking as close to hurt as he would probably ever see her.

"No, I get it." Mars stood. "I guess I should go then?"

Don realized he didn't want her to go, he'd just wanted to get a reaction out of her. "What? Without making my mom's head spin?"

The cover was a bit lame, but it was the best that he could do to keep her around. It was selfish of him, to use Mars' dislike of his mom, but he couldn't help himself - when it came to her, he couldn't help but be selfish.

He gave her a charming smile, stood up, and wrapped an arm around her waist. He pressed his forehead against hers. It was awkward, not something that he'd usually do with her- but it felt like he needed to show her that he wanted her to stay without using words. Words messed things up, and their relationship - if that's what you'd call what was going on between them - didn't need to get any messier.

"You've gotta be joking." Mars smiled up at him, she knew that her mood shouldn't be so easily changeable, but it was. She'd never admit it, ever, but the cheesy gesture was kinda sweet.. kinda.

Mars responded by placing her hand at the nape of Don's neck, pulling him in and kissing him hotly while her free hand ran through his hair. Don's fingers pulled at the bottom of her shirt as she raised her arms for him, the shirt coming off in one swoop. She laced a finger through his belt loop, pulling him towards her when she sat on the bed.

This time was different for the two of them. Things had been too weird for too long, and it had felt like ages since they'd had a good lay. Neither bothered taking off all their clothes, just the necessities. Even though she knew it was wrong, comparing people, Mars felt like Watson hadn't quite been up to par with what she was used to. He didn't have the stamina Don had, turned out she missed the longevity. And while they were at it, Mars made sure to be extra loud, just to bother Joyce; she really hated that woman.

Almost immediately after they were done, Mars was putting herself back together, ready to go. "Why don't you stay for a little?" Don grabbed her arm, still laying on his bed, pulling her back towards him.

Mars avoided eye contact, she'd already fucked up the reason she came here. Information. About his family. She was leaving with what she came with in relevance to things that actually mattered. Though, by staying that would give her extra time, wait for him to fall asleep… have a look around… but was she really willing to deal with the pillow talk? Embarrassment passed over his features ever so slightly.

"Unless we're still not doing that sort of thing." Mars rolled her eyes at him, but didn't shake his grip. After silently weighing her pros and cons, she tapped him on the arm, telling him to scoot over. She laid down and curled up against him.

It felt wrong, it was wrong. His body was too hard, too large and too hot. She didn't like the way his sweat clung to her skin, the smell of sex in the small room, how aware she was of it all.

She tried to lean into it, into the mindless conversation, into his hand on her waist. But the nakedness of it, the vulnerability was not something she could give to him. To anyone.

Every touch of his fingertips was too heavy. She wanted to be home, to be with Stiles who no doubt still waited for her there.

Sleep came for her before she could rise to slip away.

Mars woke up the next morning relatively well rested. When she fell asleep she wasn't certain, but she wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought she would've been in the daylight. Lifting her head off the pillow, she looked around, Don was gone. She pulled out her phone and looked at her messages. Don messaged her that he'd gone and she could let herself out.

Which was so incredibly convenient she honestly couldn't believe her luck.

She slipped out of the bed and began to look around what little space the room had. The closet was clear. So was under the bed. Mars sat down in his desk chair and began rummaging through his drawers as silently as she could.

Her heart felt like it stopped, Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent was engraved on top of a polished oak box. Even though her french wasn't quite A+ material these days, it wasn't that hard to translate. We hunt those who hunt us. Mars's hand hovered over the metal latch. Every muscle in her body tensed when she looked back over her shoulder for the Argent-by-marriage still sleeping. Even though he wasn't there, she felt paranoid.

Inside the box was a colt, real old school and a stupid amount of ammunition. The bullets all had a crest on them, of a lion's head. They were beautiful, and likely rather time consuming. Mars took a picture of them, and then of the box, and put it back safe and sound.

Mars got up, and walked out of the trailer, zipping past Don's silently judgmental parents. When she reached the driver's side of Ahmir's truck the constricting feeling in her chest took over.

She pressed her back against the door and tried to breath, but it came out a dry heave. Her hands were resting on her knees to support her weight. She felt sick. So fucking sick. It was real, it was all real. Scott, Don… herself? Whatever she might be. More than anything she wanted to talk to Derek, to ask him what he knew, if he could help her- but she saw that going sour real fast.

She felt bile rising, before she could stop it everything in her stomach was on the ground in front of her. Don had probably killed someone by now. Someone like Scott. Scott never hurt anyone, fuck, up until last year he'd made her kill spiders. Mars wiped her mouth with her sleeve and opened the trucks door, getting in and turning on the ignition with a shaky hand.

Did Don know about Scott? Did he know about Derek? The Alpha?

Feeling another wave of panic coming, Mars closed her eyes and pressed her head against the steering wheel, breathing heavily to steady her erratic heartbeat. What if she was the alpha? Even if she swore she could remember that night, who knew anymore? Everything was so blurry, so clouded it was like fantasy was reality and reality just a fallacy.