We find ourselves back at the diner from last night because near death experiences need unhealthy diner food to make everything okay. The same no bullshit waitress stands by the counter, glancing over at us. She seems to do a double take before adopting an expression of disinterest and gesturing to the empty booth in the back corner. I drop in the same seat as last time, slouching as far as socially acceptable. Derek drops heavily in the booth across from me.

"Why do these horrible things keep happening?" I whine, sliding back up as the waitress - Angie, her tag says - walks over with a pad in her hand. "Dr. Pepper," I tell her when she looks down at me expectantly. Tonight, her twists are pulled back into a thick braid - like the ones Sonya's mom liked to keep her hair in.

"Coke," Derek mutters. She takes it down and goes on her way again, not speaking once. I cross my arms on the table and drop my head with a mock sob.

"The whole point of coming to Beacon Hills was to not die!" I pick my head up to see Derek frowning down at me. "This doesn't feel like not dying!" Derek just arches a brow at me, so I take a breath to calm myself. "Why aren't you freaking out more?" I demand as Angie brings our drinks and silverware. He waits for her to set them down and leave before speaking.

"Can't you see I'm completely engulfed in fear?" he deadpans. I narrow my eyes at him.

"Stop being stupid. This is serious."

He glares out the window. "I'm aware of how serious this is, Ares. More so than you are."

I drop my face in my hands and take a second to compose myself before straightening and looking up at him. "Okay. I'm cool. I'm fine." He looks like he wants to argue, but decides against it. "So what's the deal with this Alpha thing? What does it want?"

His head drops to the side. "You think I would know?"

"Ballpark estimate it, then, bro," I snap. "Is it going to hurt Scott? Is it going to turn more people? It just tried to kill us, so-" I stop short. I almost walked home. I almost walked home while that thing was stalking out the parking lot. My stomach rolls at the thought, my breath catching and my heart jumping. "And I wanted to walk home." I drop my head on the table, my forehead connecting with a solid thump. "Oh my god."

When I make no move to get up, Derek asks, "You okay?"

I hold up a finger. "Gimme a second to internalize this. Bottle it up somewhere deep inside. Conceal, don't feel." I close my eyes as I pick my head up, sitting straight, not touching the back of the booth. Inhaling deeply, I hold it for four second before exhaling for another four beats. I open my eyes to see Derek watching me, blank expression cracking to reveal concern. "I'm okay," I say evenly, running a hand through my hair, pulling the top portion back into a small ponytail and tying it loosely with a hair tie.

"That's not healthy," Derek mutters.

"I'm not a healthy person," I admit, dropping back into the seat. "Hasn't killed me yet, though," I add as Angie comes back with her pad. She arches a brow, no doubt catching what I had said, but doesn't say anything. Just looks at Derek.

"The cheeseburger with fries," he says, not even bothering to look at the menu. She jots it down before turning her attention to me.

I glance at the menu before turning to look up at her. "Give me the greasiest, nastiest burger you have that will literally stop my heart," I tell her. She gives me a flat look - as though trying to decide if it's worth questioning - before turning away, writing in her pad as she goes. Derek is staring at me as if I grew a second head. "I plan on dying on my own terms, dude. Death by burger sounds a shit ton better than death by mauling."

Derek looks out the window as if he expects this Alpha to pop up and kill us. The way my luck has been lately, I can't say I'd be surprised.

"If it wanted us dead, it would have kept following the car," he says finally. I narrow my eyes at him.

"That doesn't make me feel any better!" I snap, leaning over the table.

"Well it should," he says sharply, shooting me a look. I cross my arms and lean back into my seat.

"Will it come after Scott?" I ask. He glances at me, expression hard to read. It's obvious that he doesn't want to answer. "Derek."

He huffs. "More likely than not." My stomach sinks. "If Scott's its only beta, it'll want him in its pack. Having a beta will make it stronger."

I clench my hands into fist, rest them on my lap. "I'm not letting that thing have my little cousin," I tell him. "Not Scotty."

Derek narrows his eyes. "You try to stop it and it'll just kill you." I glare out the window. "Ares, don't think about doing anything stupid," he snaps when I refuse to look at him. "What're you going to do, huh?" he demands harshly, leaning over the table. "You don't know what that thing can do. You wouldn't stand a chance-"

"So you'll let that thing - that monster - have Scott?" I hiss at him. "He only just turned sixteen, and you want to throw him - literally - to the wolves?" I look up at him in disbelief. "He's just a kid, Derek."

"And you're not?" he counters incredulously.

"He isn't me, Derek! He deserves better!" I shout, slamming my hands down on the table. Derek pulls back in shock, eyes going wide. "He deserves to be normal and happy an-and to not turn into a rage monster every time someone annoys him or - god forbid - he and his girlfriend start making out! He's a good kid, even if he's a little stupid sometimes and self-centered others, but he's good and he doesn't fuckin' deserve this!" I take a shuddering breath and shit. My eyes water and I quickly wipe at them with my sleeve. "It's bullshit," I mutter.

Derek doesn't speak. Finally he heaves a heavy sigh. "Damn." I glance up at him. He looks like he's going to regret what he plans on saying next. "We need to find out who it is. It'll be easier to do anything if we know who it is."

"How do we do that?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "We'll figure something out." He huffs. "We'll probably die."

"He can't know," I decide. Derek looks at me incredulously. "He's already freaking out that he'll kill his girlfriend, I don't want him to have to worry about something out there looking to recruit him into the League of Evil."

"So you just want to leave him in the dark?" Judgement is thick in his voice. I ignore it.

"Sometimes it's better to not know these things," I say, watching as Angie the Waitress comes back with our food. She sets it down without a word and walks away. The burger in front of me looks like it could put down an Olympic athlete.

"Are you speaking from experience?" Derek asks. I glance up at him.

"I hoped I'd never have to speak from experience when it comes to Scott."

"We have a problem," Stiles says, throwing open my door and waltzing into my room as if he owns the place, Scott on his heels. I look up from my phone and narrow my eyes at the boys. Stiles drops into my computer chair as Scott throws himself down on my bed next to me.

"We will have a problem if you two don't stop barging in my room without warning," I warn them. "I could have been changing."

Scott turns his head at me, brows furrowing. "It's Sunday. You never change on Sundays."

I inhale deeply through my nose. "That's not the point."

"You're right, that's not the point!" Stiles exclaims, leaning forward in the chair. I glance over at Scott, but he stares at my hamper, eyes narrowing. Little creep. Knowing the sooner I listen to them, the sooner I can get back to trying to figure out what to do about this Alpha thing, I turn my attention to Stiles.

"Alright, lay it on me."

"So, my dad got a call last night after the game," Stiles says. "They got the test results back on the body. The hair they found on it was animal, not human."

I arch a brow at him. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

He lets out a groan, as if it literally hurts him to stoop down to my level and explain. "Derek's human, not animal. Derek being human means they let him go." I grip my phone, but Stiles doesn't seem to notice. Next to me, Scott sits up quickly, outright glaring at my hamper now. He stands, marches over to it. Stiles ignores him and continues. "Also, my dad got an ID on the body."

"Laura Hale," I say without thinking. "Derek's sister." Stiles narrows his eyes at me in suspicion as Scott reaches in my clothes basket and pulls out my hoodie.

"Weren't you wearing this last night?" he demands tightly. I look up at him with wide eyes, going for innocent. "Why does it smell like Derek?" I bring up a finger to stop him before he gets too angry.

"I might have run into him after the game yesterday-"

"Ares!"

"Dude, are you alright?" Stiles exclaims, jumping up.

"What? Yeah, we went and got food," I tell them. Scott stares down at me. Stiles narrows his eyes.

"You went and got food?" He rubs his head with his hand. "With Derek Hale? The murderer that killed his own sister and turned your cousin into a creature of the night, you went and got food with him?"

I drop my face into my hands. Conceal, don't feel, Ares. I take a breath before looking up at the boys. Both wear betrayed looks on their faces. "Okay. I'm only gonna say this once, so you better listen up." Stiles scoffs, crossing his arms and dropping back into the chair. "Derek did not turn Scott. Derek did not kill his sister. Derek is not the bad guy here."

"How do you know he didn't kill his sister?" Stiles demands. "Just because he told you doesn't make it true."

I narrow my eyes at him. "He couldn't have killed his sister anymore than I could kill Aaron or Alicia."

Stiles frowns. "Aren't your siblings horrible people?"

I glare at him. "My siblings are amazing people, Stiles Stilinski." He draws back and I go on. "The point is that no even semi-normal person could just go and kill their sibling." I shake my head. "Y'all are only children. I don't see you understanding. That being said, stop sending innocent people to jail for shit they didn't do."

"Whatever," Stiles mutters as my phone goes off, revealing a text from Derek.

"Speak of the devil," I say quietly, swiping it open.

Stiles' jaw drops. "You're texting him right now?" he demands, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Why must you fraternize with the enemy?"

I don't even bother trying to argue with him. Instead, I look up at Scott, who's looking down at my hoodie in his hand, expression hard. "Mijo, you know I wouldn't have anything to do with him if I didn't think he was any good. You know that," I tell him.

He doesn't react for a solid second, and for that second I can't help but think he's not going to believe me. He throws my hoodie back in the hamper and crosses his arms. "I still don't like him," he mutters.

I roll my eyes. "We'll work up to that, alright? For now, just trust me."

"Well, I think you're both being stupid," Stiles says.

"No one asked you, pendejo."

His hand shoots to his heart in mock pain. I throw my pillow at him and it hits him square in the face.

I stare down at my phone, taking advantage of Deaton's absence to check my texts. It takes a second for the words to make any sense. When they hit, they hit hard.

Human Puppy (3 new message)

there was an attack at the school last night
i think it was me
ares what if it was me
(HP)
Explain. Now.
(A)
had a dream last nite i hurt allison in the school bus. this morning the bus was torn up and bloody and they took a guy to the hospital. allisons fine
(HP)
Shit. Shiit. I'm sure it wasn't you, kid. Or if it was…
Dude's alive, tho, right?
(A)
ARES THIS IS SERIOUS
also yea hes alive
i think im going to dereks after work to see if he can help me remember
(HP)
That's a great idea! You do that, I'll let him know to expect you. Gtg, Deats came back. It'll be fine. I have faith in you
(A)

"Scotty's gonna be late," I sing, wiping down the examination table as Deaton goes through boxes of some shipment or another. Medicine? Probably just more gloves. Dude has gloves everywhere. He glances over his shoulder at me, brow arched. "You should fire him."

"Your cousin is almost never late. It isn't going to kill him this once," he chides. I crinkle my nose as he goes on. "Besides, knowing him, he'll beat himself over it with unfounded guilt."

"You can't even pretend to fire him?" I ask, balling up the paper towel in my hand and shooting it into the trash. "Get it on video and post it on facebook." I pull out my phone and wave it around. Deaton shakes his head as the door is thrown open and in rushes Scott, backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Sorry," he says quickly, dropping his bag out of the way. "Sorry."

"It's with a heavy heart that I have to inform you that you're fired," I say melodramatically, clasping my hands together with a sigh. He shoots me a glare as he moves around the table.

"You're all of two minutes late," Deaton points out.

"Fifty bucks off your paycheck for every minute," I tell him. He looks up at me, making a face and shaking his head.

"I didn't want you to think I was slacking," he tells Deaton. I roll my eyes, moving to stand by my little cousin.

"Scott," Deaton starts, picking up his box and moving it under the table I just cleaned, "I guarantee you you're one of the least slacking kids in this town." I make a face as Scotty looks over at me smugly. His expression falls as Deaton goes on. "It would do you well to not taint it with petty sibling squabbling."

"Haha, he thinks you're petty." I reach over and ruffle his hair.

"Ares!" He slaps my hand away and brushes his hair out of his face. "You're one to talk." He grins up at me. "Honestly, the most insulting thing is that he thinks of you as my sister."

I grab at my heart in mock pain. "How could you?" Before he can answer, I have him in a headlock and rub my fist against his head.

"Ares!" He exclaims, pulling at my arm. Deaton glances up from his work at us, brows raised in amusement. "Ares, quit!"

The door opens and Scott and I freeze, our heads shooting up to see Sheriff Stilinski walking in, leading a black German Shepherd by a leash. He pauses at the door, taking off his sunglasses as Deaton breaks into a huge smile and moves for the dog.

"Hey! I see someone's ready to get their stitches out," he says cheerfully.

"Someone's about to get stitches," I say, giving Scott one last good noogie before he manages to break free.

"Hey, kids," Sheriff Stilinski greets, voice coated in amusement. "I'd ask if you were staying out of trouble, but I feel I know the answer to that already." I make a show of wipe my hands, clapping them as I do so before pulling out my phone from my pocket. "You coming in today, Ares?"

"Obs," I say, watching as Deaton picks up the dog and deposits him on the table. I nod to the folder in his hand. "What's that? Super secret evidence you probably shouldn't be bringing in here?"

"You're not cute," he says dryly. I smile up at him brightly as he brings up the folder and turns to Deaton. "Hey, listen, while I'm here, you mind taking a look at those pictures I was talking about? Sacramento still can't determine an animal." I look sharply at Scott, who busies himself by putting away the medicine from Deaton's box.

"I'm not exactly an expert," Deaton says, but he takes the folder anyway, pulling out the pictures. "This is the guy who was attacked on the bus?"

"Yeah, that's him. We found wolf hairs on Laura Hale's body," he states.

Scott steps forward. "Wolf?" Sheriff Stilinski looks over at him, brow raised. He moves to get a better look at the pictures. I move with him, because there's no way he gets to see if I don't. "I mean… I think I read somewhere that wolves haven't been in California for like sixty years." I look up at him, impressed.

"Ya hear that guys? He read."

He glares at me as Deaton speaks, not looking up from the picture. "True enough, but wolves are highly migratory. It could have wandered in from another state, driven by impulse or strong enough memory."

Scott looks up at Deaton. "Wolves have memories?"

"Longer term memories, yes. Associated with the primal drive." Scott swallows.

"That sounds… ominous," I say, leaning over Scott's shoulder to get a good look at the pictures. "Ohoho, dude got eaten, man." All three males look up at me, the judgement heavy in their eyes. "I mean, uh, pobrecito."

Deaton shakes his head, gesturing to the pictures. "See these marks?" He traces the cut on the man's face. "These are claw marks. A wolf would have gone for the throat, spinal cord, with its teeth."

Sheriff Stilinski frowns. "So what'd you think, it's a mountain lion?"

Deaton shakes his head. "I dunno." I frown, nudging Scott out of the way to get clear look. "A wolf could have chased down its prey, hobbling it by tearing at the ankles." Scott tenses next to me. "And then the throat."

"Yo, I knew a guy back home that got screwed up like this," I tell them. Again, the males turn their attention on me. "Some asshole my brother knew. He was casing out a house and didn't realize it had a dog. The family came home to see their dog just chewing at this dude. Blood everywhere." I sigh. "Good times."

"You're literally the worst person I know," Scott decides. I throw up my hands in defense as Sheriff Stilinski snorts, taking the pictures back from Deaton.

"He shouldn't have been trying to rob the house! Aaron told me there was a clear beware of dog sign. It's Darwinism, mijo. Some people are just too stupid to be alive."

Deaton gets to work on removing the stitches with scary fast accuracy. Scott watches on, no doubt filing away the technique. Kid's smart like that. Better learner by watching.

"Are you going straight back to the station?" I ask Sheriff Stilinski as he gets ready to leave once Deaton's done. He nods once.

"Yeah. Why?" He looks down at my suspiciously. I grin and fish my keys out of my pocket before disconnecting my pepper spray and stuffing it in the front pocket of my hoodie.

"Sweet, I'm riding with you," I declare, handing the keys to a wide eyed Scott. "Fill up the tank, put your bike in the back. You're picking me up or I'm stabbing you in the face," I tell him before glancing over at the Sheriff and Doc, who are walking out the door. "Don't leave me, I'll be right there." Stilinski shakes his head in defeat. Once the door is shut behind them, I turn my attention to Scott. "You gonna go see Derek after work?"

He drops his head. "I guess. I don't want to, but I'm hanging out with Allison tomorrow night and I don't want to hurt her. Ever."

I chew at my thumb nail. "Do you really think it was you?"

"I… who else would it have been?" He looks up at me. My stomach twists at the idea that the Alpha might have done it. If Scotty notices my discomfort, he doesn't mention it. "The dream was so real, Ares. When I saw the bus…" He shakes his head. "I have to know."

I sigh. "Alright. Be careful. Don't do anything stupid." I pause, look at the keys he still has in his hands. "Your mom probably isn't going to let you have the car, huh?" He shakes his head.

"I was going to bribe her with food. Think it'll work?" I look at him flatly and his face falls before he looks up at me hopefully. Kid's got his puppy eyes on full force. I let out an annoyed breath.

"Try bribing her with food first, alright? If that doesn't work, then…"

He grins. "Thank you! You're the best, I owe you."

"Ares! Come on, before I change my mind!" Sheriff Stilinski calls from the front. I give one last warning look to Scott.

"Fill the tank," I remind him as I rush out the door. "And get your mom dinner!" Sheriff Stilinski is standing by the front door, waiting with the patience of a man whose teenage son has ADHD.

"Bye, Doc!" I call over my shoulder as I follow Stilinski out.

"Have a good day, Ares," he says with a smile. "Sheriff."

Once we're outside, I hop into the passenger side of his cruiser as he gets the dog into the back. I send off a quick text to Derek before he gets in the car.

Yo, Scotty's gonna go see you about the attack at school. BE NICE TO HIM

I shove my phone in my pocket as Stilinski gets in the car, turning it on and putting on his seatbelt.

"So, nothing new on Laura Hale?" I ask casually as he maneuvers the car out of the lot. He frowns at me. "Just making conversation," I add quickly. He sighs.

"Just that it's an animal attack. Most likely the same that attacked the man last night." He pauses. "You know, Stiles mentioned something last night."

"He would," I mutter.

"You hanging around Derek Hale at all, kid?" he asks. I sink into the seat, feeling very much like a kid about to get grounded. He sighs. "I know I can't tell you who you can and can't hang out with." I look up at him as he goes on. "Just be careful around him, alright? He used to be such a good kid."

"He's still a good guy," I say. "He's just been shit on by life a lot lately." Stilinski glances down at me before nodding.

"Well. So long as you're okay." He pauses. "You know you can call me if anything happens, right?"

I snort. "Lord, you're such a dad, man." He frowns, only for his expression to soften at my next words. "It's cool. Nice. And you'll be the first person I call if Derek turns into an asshole." I grin up at him. "You can arrest him again."

Stilinski sighs in exasperation. "You're not cute."

"I'm adorable."

Welp, that was that. Leave a review and let me know what you thought! Thanks to those that have already faved/followed/reviewed!

1. Pobrecito - Poor thing