The Turtle waits patiently right where I had left it when I finally get to the lot. It's only when I see it that the I actually relax, muscles I didn't realize I had tensed loosening. After thoroughly checking the back for any stowaway serial killers - because Aaron and Alicia didn't raise an idiot - I jump in, lock the doors after me, and take a second to just breathe.

"You're okay. You're okay. Everything's fine."

The mantra does little to actually calm my nerves, so I fish my phone out of my pocket, happy to see the bars that had deserted me in my time of need. The message I send goes to Stiletto. While waiting for his reply, I turn on the car and let it heat up a bit, which is bullshit. Never had this problem in Texas. I thought California was supposed to be warm and sunny all the time too.

Little shit though he might be, Stiles is a good person to go to when you want to vent, so long as you're prepared to return the favor. Also, after being convinced that I was about to die alone in the woods, I'm not exactly in the mood to be home alone.

I'm coming over so you better clean your room and open the front door.
(A)
Um. Why?
(S)
I just spent the last hour and a half being lost in the stupid woods. I don't wanna be home alone

"All I wanna do-"

I sigh and, like with Scott's call, put it on speaker as I answer it so that I can navigate out of the parking lot and get the hell away from the woods before some monster decides to come out and kill me.

"Why were you in the preserve?" Stiles demands in way of greeting.

"Your stupid friend dropped his inhaler and asked me to go get it." I can practically see the face Stiles is making. "And before you say anything, he was doing the voice, the one with the puppy eyes."

"You need to fight the puppy eyes, Ares," Stiles says dramatically. "He might look innocent, but he knows exactly what he's doing." He pauses. "You alright though?"

"I'll live. I'm still coming over. I'm driving, I'll tell you about it when I get there." I glance at the rear view mirror and label the dark flash of movement among the trees as imagination and paranoia, and step on the gas.

"Alright, see ya in a bit."

"See ya."

It's by some gift of God that the Sheriff is working when I pull up to the Stilinski home. Not only do I get out of a lecture for being in the woods during a murder investigation, I also get to park in the driveway instead of in the road like common folk. It's the little things in life.

"Stiles!" I call, walking in the front door. "You want me to lock the door?"

"Yeah!" comes the answer from upstairs. I do as he asks and head toward his voice, finding him in his room at his computer desk. He jumps a bit when I walk in, despite knowing that I'm in the house.

"Please don't be looking at porn," I all but beg as I throw myself down into his bed, immediately kicking off my shoes and grabbing a pillow.

"Sure, Ares, make yourself at home," he drawls, gesturing to where I'm sprawled out. I roll my eyes.

"Chillón," I tease, propping myself up on my elbows. "Do you or do you not want to hear about how I almost died in the woods?"

He makes a face. "See, I feel like you might be exaggerating. If anyone almost died in the woods, it was Scott." I sit up, narrowing my eyes at the boy, who immediately seems to realize his mistake. "I mean, what I meant to say was-"

"What happened?"

Stiles rolls his head to the side. "Look, it wasn't even that big of a deal." I arch a brow at him. "He might have maybe gotten bitbysomething," he finishes in a rush, grimacing.

I blink at him, and because I occasionally dabble in the art of optimism, I ask, "Like, a bug something?"

Stiles hesitates, turning away before answering. "Like a big animal something."

"Are you kidding me? Why didn't he tell me?! Voy a matar a ese pendejo!"

"Now," Stiles starts, his hands up in a placating manner. "Did it occur to you that he didn't tell you because of the Spanish death threats?" I shoot him an incredulous look. He winces and goes on. "Look, he's fine! He's better than fine, dude, Ares, you should have seen him at practice today, he was amazing!" And just like that my anger is replaced with confusion.

"Amazing? I thought he sucked?" I've endured to many complaining sessions and seen too many summer impromptu practices between the boys to think they had so much of a chance at being starters. Don't get me wrong, I love these dweebs, but athletics just aren't for them.

"He did!" Stiles exclaims, gesturing wildly. "But now he doesn't! You should have seen Jackson's face when Scott caught the ball!"

The name is familiar, and judging by the irrational annoyance I get from hearing it, I have to assume it's someone the boys really don't like. "Jackson's the jerk from school, right? The one dating la colorada?"

Stiles makes a face of ultimate heartbreak and I'd feel bad for him were it not the fact he's a child with a borderline creepy crush. "We're not talking about Lydia. We're talking about your cousin. He didn't even stop breathing once." He pauses, his face warping as he thinks. "Which is weird because last night he was hacking up a lung."

Well. That's not something I wanted to hear.

"Stiles! Seriously?"

"What?"

I bring my hands up, palms up, and can't comprehend how he doesn't see what's wrong with that. "There could be something seriously wrong with him!"

Stiles rolls his eyes as if he's heard this all before. I can't say I'd be surprised. "Oh, not you too. Ares, relax. It's not like he went and got bit by a wolf and got infected with lycanthropy."

I frown. "Are we talking clinical or mythical lycanthropy, because there's a difference, ya know."

He drops his head in his hands. "Seriously, not the point. Jus-just tell me what happened in the woods today, alright. That's why you're here, isn't it?"

I scrunch my face and huff, because kid's got a point. "Your subject change works this time, Stilinski. This time."

He shrugs. "Tis both a gift and a curse. Now talk."

"You cried in front of him?" Stiles looks shocked that such a think could happen. "As in, tears?"

"Yes! God, it was horrible!" I throw myself back into the bed, covering my eyes with my arm. "But he was cool about it, I guess," I continue, sitting back up and dropping my arm. Wonder if that counts as a sit up, i.e. extra exercise for the day. "Guy walked me back to the trail and told me how to get back to the parking lot."

Stiles' jaw drops. "And you just went with him?!" He stares at me as if I had lost my mind when I nod slowly. "Have you gone mental?! I swear, you and Scott are the same when it comes to trusting people." And wow, that one hurt. You don't come from a big city like Laredo and trust everyone like Scott does.

"Dude, chill, it's not like he killed me."

"But what if he did! You can't just pull a Little Red Riding Hood and walk with strangers in the woods where a murder took place."

I lean back and arch a brow at him. "Do... do you remember where you were last night?"

He crosses his arms. "This isn't about me. Look, whatever, did you get this guy's name?"

"I did!" I say brightly, because that's probably the only thing I've done right today. "Derek Hale."

Stiles shoots up, straightening in his chair. "Derek - you said Derek Hale?"

"Why are you saying that like it's something super important?" I ask carefully. "Do you know him?"

"Oh. Ooh hoho, you don't know about the fire, do you?"

"The whole question with a question thing isn't cool, Socrates," I mutter as he twirls his chair back to his computer and pulls up a new tab on his internet among the many wiki articles and reddit threads. I grab his reading chair and drag it behind me as I move next to Stiles. He pulls up an old article from the local newspaper, the headline reading Family Perishes in Deadly Electrical Fire.

"The Hale Fire was, like, ten years ago," Stiles explains as I skim through the article.

"Says here six years," I correct absentmindedly, brows furrowing together as start getting an idea of just why Derek Hale was so surprised that I didn't know who he was.

"Whatever." He gives a dismissive wave of his hand. "One night the house just goes up in flames, the entire family trapped inside." He pauses, probably for dramatics. "Well, not all of them. Derek and his sister Laura were at school, extracurricular things, I think."

"They were the only survivors?" I glance over at Stiles. He shakes his head.

"Their uncle Peter Hale managed to get out, but he was burned up really bad. He's been in a coma ever since at the hospital." He leans back in his chair and chews on his thumb nail. "Derek and Laura were in New York last I heard. I wonder what he's doing back."

I shrug. "Saving damsels lost in the woods, I'm guessing."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You wanna order a pizza for dinner?"

"What about your dad?" There's no way he'll let the Sheriff in on pizza.

"I'll make him something else. You can help." He pushes away from the desk to his bed where his phone charges. "I'm feeling pepperoni. You?"

There's light shining through the bottom of Scott's door, so I give it a quick knock and wait for some sort of confirmation that he's decent before opening the door, leaning against the frame with me shoulder.

"Ares, hey," he greets from his bed. He's got a stupid grin stretched across his face, as if he didn't just send me to my almost death earlier today. "What's up?"

"Stiles said you had a good day at school," I say nonchalantly, checking him over once in search of this bite Stiles had mentioned. Nothing. "Something about lacrosse and showing that Jackson kid what's up?"

"Oh, you should have been there! Coach put me on the goal to build up team morale, but I ended up catching all of them!"

"Build up team morale?" I cross my arms. "What an asshole. Also, didn't you, like, suck before?"

"I know!" he exclaims. "It, it was like I had all the time in the world to catch them! It was- It was… I don't even know!"

I nod. "Right, well it sounds like you had a good day," I drawl, waiting for him to be at his highest before dropping the fact that he almost had me killed. It's my birthright as older cousin to ruin his night over things like this. He nods enthusiastically.

"I got a date."

Well shit. There goes that plan.

"Bullshit, how?" I push off the door frame and walk into the room. "Who is a better question, I think."

His eyes go starry, just like Steven Universe. "Her name is Allison Argent and she just moved here and she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and she hit a dog-"

"She hit a dog?"

"It was an accident! It was raining earlier, she didn't see it," he defends quickly. "So she brought it to the vet and I was there."

"Is the dog okay?"

"The dog is fine, what's important is that I got a date to one of Lydia Martin's parties with the girl of my dreams!" he concludes happily. I can only stare at this idiot before dropping my face into my hands.

"Ay dios mio." He doesn't seem to notice. "Whatever, happy for you, mijo," I say. He beams up at me.

"Did you ever find my inhaler?" he asks suddenly as I make my way to the door. I roll my eyes and pull it out of my front pocket, tossing over to him. He easily catches it with one hand.

"Sweet! Thanks, Ares, I owe you big."

"Whatever, man."

I leave without telling him that it wasn't me that found the inhaler.

When I get back to my room I drop into my bed and just take a second to process what a shit day it's been. "Why does everything suck?" I mutter, pushing my hair out of my face when I sit up and pull my phone out of my pocket and send a quick text to BFF5L.

Are you awake?
I have need of you
(A)
Get on snapchat
(B)

I pull up the app and pull up BFF5L's conversation. The button at the bottom goes blue and a face engulfs the screen.

"Ares, push the button!" the girl on the screen exclaims. I smile and do as she says, locking the camera on. "Hey!"

"Oh my god, Sonya, I hate everything in this town," I groan, holding the phone out as I drop back into my bed again, throwing an arm over my face. "Literally everything." I drop my arm and look up at her. She has her hair pulled up in a sloppy bun and is sitting in her own bed, wearing an over-sized Nixon Mustangs shirt.

"What happened?" she demands. "Do I need to go through this phone and fuck someone's shit up?"

I laugh. "I don't think my aunt would appreciate you murdering my cousin."

"Oh my god, what'd the kid do this time?"

"Do not even get me started on what he and Stiles have put me through today." I shake my head and Sonya leans in eagerly. I give her the main points of what happened last night with the body and having to pick Scott up. When I get to the part about Derek Hale, she holds her hand up.

"Okay, hold on, honey, tell me about the guy in the woods. Was he hot?" I look at her flatly and she shakes her head. "Oh, come on, you aren't blind."

I roll my eyes. "He was aesthetically pleasing, in a serial killer kinda way, I guess. But that's not the point! The point is I'm in emotional distress and I need comfort and distraction."

"Distraction?" Sonya scrunches her face up as she thinks. "Did I tell you about how Warren watched Homeward Bound drunk last weekend and started crying?"

Warren Nguyen, our idiot best friend that can't hold his alcohol if his life depended on it. Like Sonya, he's been my best friend since freshman year of high school.

"Oh my god, he would," I cackle. By the time we finish talking about everyone back home, it's all I can do to keep from crying. "God, I miss you guys. Everything here sucks," I say, wiping at my eyes. "I mean, I hang out with sixteen year olds. How much more pathetic can my life get?"

Sonya sighs. "It'll get better. Once you go back to school, you'll meet cool people and forget all about us losers here," she says brightly. "Maybe we can go see you this summer! We can go see the beach!"

"There's no beach here," I say. "The sentiment is nice though."

I can't say I planned on being back in the preserve so soon after the incident yesterday. But the thing about promising someone ten dollars to get you out of the woods alive is that you should probably make good on it, and as far as I know, Derek Hale is squatting somewhere in the woods. Best guess?

Creepy burned down house in the middle of the woods.

If I don't text back in an hour tell your dad I'm dead in the woods

Locking my phone and shoving it in my pocket, I throw open my car door. After taking a second to make sure something worthy of a nosleep isn't going to jump out and eat my soul, I reach back into the Turtle and grab my loot.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hijo de tu-!" I whirl around and there stands Derek Hale in all his serial killer glory, looking just as defensive and annoyed as yesterday, if not more so. "Dude! Can you not?!" I demand. "Lord."

"Why are you here?" he all but growls. I arch an unimpressed brow at him. The fact he's trying makes the whole threatening serial killer look kinda fall flat.

"I owe you ten bucks for not leaving me to die yesterday," I tell him. His face warps in confusion as I go on, turning to grab the goods as I do. "I don't have cash though and I didn't feel like dealing with the ATM, so I got you food, because really, who's gonna say no to food?" I turn and hold out a bag and large drink for him. He stares at them as if they're alien, complete with green skin and tiny antennas, before reaching out and grabbing them. "Also I didn't know what you wanted to drink, so I got a Coke and Dr Pepper and figured I'd let you pick," I say, grabbing my own bag and drink and hip checking the door shut. "Is the porch safe to eat on?"

His frown is more so confused than annoyed as he nods and turns to lead the way. "You didn't have to," he says, and he doesn't even sound overly negative. Points for me.

"Probably shouldn't have either," I say, and he looks back at me sharply. "No, idiot, I meant I shouldn't have gotten you junk," I correct before he can get his feelings hurt. "Next time I'll get you real food. I bet all you eat is junk if you're squatting here." I gesture with my drink as I climb the steps after him. He stands awkwardly for a second before mirroring me as I gracelessly plop onto the porch, crossing my legs. "Why are you squatting here anyway?"

For a second I think I asked the wrong question before he answers. "It's home."

"Oh." I watch as he sets the bag of food in front of him and doesn't look up at me. "Right. Well, I got you, like, four McDoubles because you look like you can smash those and not get fat. There's an apple pie in there too. Coke or Dr Pepper?"

"Coke."

"Sweet." I grab the drink in front of him and trade it for my own. "So, you watch any good shows?"

Just as with yesterday, Derek lets me do most of the talking, and since he does nothing to stop me, he gets the full history of Steven Universe.

"So yeah. Sentient lesbian space rocks raising a half human space rock child is currently my favorite show," I finish, grabbing several fries and dropping them in my mouth. Derek arches a brow.

"And this is a kid's show?"

"Hey, Gargoyles was a kid's show too, and that shit got dark sometimes." I shrug. "Besides, it's got good representation of female characters and body types and all that stuff social justice warriors on tumblr cry about." He makes a choked noise, like he's trying to hold in a laugh. "You should watch it. Brighten up the gloom and doom vibe you got goin' on," I say, waving a fry around before biting it in half.

He looks like he wants to say something, but is cut off by a distraught Amethyst.

"Nooo mi tortaaa!"

My hand snaps to my pocket and I glance up at Derek, who just raises both brows. "Whoops?" I pull the phone out of my pocket and swipe it on as it screams again.

Stiletto (2 new messages)

Your cousin got bit by a wolf
Also are you alive?

"Stiles," I mutter, shooting off a quick answer.

Bullshit Scott got bit by a wolf, and yeah, I live

I glance at the time and let my head fall back. "Well, I gotta ditch out," I glance up at Derek. His expression is neutral, and shit, how are you supposed to get a reading on this guy? "I have work in, like, thirty minutes," I explain, dropping my trash in my bag. "You want me to take your trash? Keep the planet green and all that jazz." I say with a twirl of my finger. He snorts, but gathers his trash and stands, holding a hand down for me. I grin and take it, let him pull me up. "Aw, look at you, such a civilized serial killer."

"Serial killer?" And his brows do this thing, like he's questioning my sanity.

"You're not exactly Mr. Sunshine, buddy," I drawl, patting his arm before grabbing his bag and hopping down the stairs. "I'll see ya 'round, bro. Bring you real food next time," I call over to him as I pull open my car door.

"Ares."

"Hey! You remembered!" I exclaim, dropping the trash in the footwell of the passenger side before straightening to look up at him. He's got his arms crossed, like he didn't just spend the past hour learning about gay space rocks. We're gonna have to work on that if I plan on having him around as official nonteenage friend.

"You shouldn't come back into the woods," he says. He says it in a way that makes it sound like there's some big secret behind it, and honestly, between this guy and Stiles with his wolf bite theories, next thing I know it's gonna be The Howling: Blood in Beacon Hills.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, well, I shouldn't eat raw cookie dough either. What're you gonna do?" I pause. "If it makes you feel any better, I will definitely not be out here during the full moon tomorrow night. Rewatched Dog Soldiers the other night. Can't say I'm in the mood of getting mauled to death by a mythical creature, ya know?"

His brow furrows a bit at the mention of full moon, but he doesn't answer, so it's safe to say that I win this round.

I get about five seconds of down time after leaving Deaton's and getting to my car before it all goes to hell due to one Stiles Stilinski.

Your cousin is a werewolf

I stare down at the text in confusion before realizing this must have something to do with that text he sent me yesterday about Scotty getting bit by the wolf. I sigh, snapping on my seat belt and pressing call. It rings twice.

"Scott's a werewolf," Stiles says upon answering. "Like, an honest to god fangs and claws werewolf and he won't listen to me!" I don't answer, just take a second to process what the hell this kid just spewed and start the car.

"Stiles. Mijo. How much adderall did you take today?"

"This isn't about me!" And shit, his voice cracked. I drop my hands from the wheel, frowning

"Okay, okay, calm down, dude," I tell him, rubbing my face. "Is your dad home? Do you want me to come over?"

"What? No! Just- Gah, fine, come over," and lord, he sounds so done with life right now. I can practically hear him rubbing his head like he does when he's stressed.

"Hey, it's okay, Stiles," I assure him, forcing my voice to stay calm, neutral. "You can tell me when I get there, okay?"

Stiles takes a breath. "Alright, fine. Just hurry."

If I go a good ten over the limit the entire time, well, at least the Sheriff didn't catch me. Stiles waits at the front door when I arrive, throwing it open and bouncing on his heels nervously.

"Dude, are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm fine. Peachy. It's Scott I'm worried about," he says, grabbing my wrist and pulling me after him to his room. I nod slowly.

"Right. Because he's a werewolf."

"He is!" Stiles exclaims. "And he has that stupid date tonight."

"What's wrong with his date?" I demand. "It's good for him. He'll stop whining about dying alone because girls don't look at him."

Stiles stops short at his door and I barely catch myself from running him down. The look he gives me makes it clear how little he thinks of me right now.

"Ares. Tonight is the full moon."

He pushes open his door. I follow him in, staring with wide eyes the papers thrown around his room. On his bed, desk, floor, one even made it to his bookshelf.

"Oh, mijo." I stoop down, grab one of the papers. It's a wiki article over some Greek myth. "You're serious?"

"I don't think I've been more serious about anything. Look at me and say I'm kidding," he snaps. I look up at him. His eyes are panicked.

"Shit." I glance around the room. "Okay, lay it on me," I tell him as I go about picking up the papers.

Let it be known that Stiles Stilinski knows how to lay out an argument. While I can't say I'm totally down for what he's saying, he obviously believes it, and I'm not one to let delusional teenagers run free into the world. Especially when they might try to shoot my little cousin with a silver bullet.

"Are you kidding me?" I whine, dropping my face into my hands and just staying there, lamenting the shitfest my life was no doubt about to become.

If you liked, be sure to drop a review! ( ´ ▽ ` )b

I really like these little emoji things, so I'd like to apologize in advance for how many you're going to end up seeing.

Translations

1. Chillón - Crybaby
2. Voy a matar a ese pendejo - I'm going to kill that idiot!
3. la colorada - The red head
4. Ay dios mio - Oh my god
5. Hijo de tu- - Son of a- (literally son of your-. It leads to mean things.)