The fact that Stiles is in the passenger side of my Turtle when Scott comes to get me is alarming. Extremely alarming. I throw open the door and cross my arms, arching a brow at him. He throws his arms up.

"Do I have to?" he whines.

"You can always walk," I counter lightly. He groans, but jumps out, barely untangling himself from the seatbelt first. I step back so he can move the front seat forward and crawl into the back.

"I hate that this car is a two door," he mutters, falling into the seat. Scott and I both look back at him incredulously.

"Dude. The Jeep is a two door," Scott reminds him as I throw the seat back and jump in, pulling on my seatbelt.

"Hey, don't bring Roscoe into this," he snaps as Scott shifts the car in gear carefully as I watch to make sure he doesn't end up stalling. "And I'm never in the back of my jeep. The two doors doesn't affect me."

"Chillon," I accuse before turning my attention to Scott. "How'd it go at Derek's?"

Scott scowls. "He's just as easy-going and friendly as I remember him to be," he mutters. I don't even bother to argue with him. "But he did help. I guess." He adds that last bit begrudgingly. And that's good. Progress. I'm a sucker for progress. Nothing like putting away differences to deal with a greater evil.

"Sweet, what'd he say?"

"He said to go back and let my senses do the remembering for me."

"Are you kidding me?" I drop my head back on the rest. I take back every nice thing I've said about Derek Hale. "There's supposed to be a shit ton of cops there!"

Stiles leans forward. "Not right now there isn't." He and Scott both look at me expectantly.

"I hate both of you," I grumble, pulling out my phone to tell Derek just how stupid his idea is. "Scott, keep your eyes on the road and pay attention to the Turtle."

"At least we came and got you first," Stiles says. "We coulda just not told you at all."

"You think I wouldn't have found out?" I ask flatly, and Stiles sinks back into his seat. "So we're really going to the school right now?"

"Do you or do you not want to know whether or not Scott actually went after this guy?"

I cross my arms. "Let's just get this over with."

The school, as Stiles had predicted, is empty. Not a cop in sight. I sigh, realizing that they're actually gonna do this. Scott eases in front of the gate and we both jump out. I leave the door open for Stiles, who crawls over the center of the seats and almost falls on his face getting out. The boys move to the gate, arguing about Batman and Robin as I follow them.

"You got this?" I ask Scott once he's convinced Stiles to stay on this side of the gate. He nods, swallowing thickly. I drop a hand on his shoulder. "I have complete faith in you. Now go make sure you didn't almost kill this guy."

Scott takes a breath before quickly climbing the fence and dropping on the other side. Stiles watches with a pout, arms crossed tightly.

"Why does he get to be Batman?" he demands. I roll my head to look at him. "I'm always stuck as Robin these days, it's no fair!"

I roll my eyes. "Come on, dude, don't think of it that way. Think of it as your training before becoming Nightwing." He glances over at me.

"Nightwing?"

"Probably my favorite of the Bat Family, if I'm honest," I tell him lightly before motioning to the car. "Let's keep watch from the car. Makes for an easier escape if things go to shit."

He follows, crawling into the back without having to be told this time. "You really think I'm gonna be Nightwing?" I smile, look back at him.

"You'll be the best Nightwing. You'll be the disco mullet Nightwing."

He narrows his eyes at me. "I'm choosing to take that as a compliment."

"Good."

Scott takes his sweet ol' time sniffing out the bus, so I turn the Turtle back on, but leave the lights off. As I'm searching through the radio stations for something worth listening, Stiles smacks my arm.

"Ares! People!" I look up and shit. Lights. Flashlights. Plural. Shit. I slam my hand on the horn, hold it for a second before releasing and doing it again.

"Come on, Scott," I mutter as Stiles keeps beating up my seats. "Stiles, fuckin' chill, he's coming!" I snap, noticing Scott's silhouette rush out of the bus. I drop the Turtle in reverse and leave the lights off, keeping my eyes on Scott as he jumps on a car and fuckin' flips over the fence like some sort of reject Power Ranger. Lands in a crouch and everything.

He jumps in the car and shouts, "Go! GO!"

He didn't have to tell me twice.

I slam on the gas, shooting backwards before shifting into the proper gear and doing a quick 180 with practiced ease. Stiles and Scott are clutching at whatever they can get their hands on as I shoot out of there, flicking on the headlights as I go.

"Man, that was great," I say with a grin. "Been entirely too long since I've had to man a getaway."

"I hate you," Stiles groans from the back, and is that jealousy I sense in his voice? "This car shouldn't even be able to move like that."

"Any car can move like that," I say lightly. "You just gotta know how to work it." Ignoring his continued whines, I turn my attention to Scott. "So? Qué paso?"

"Did it work?" Stiles demands. "Do you remember?"

"I was there," he says, but instead of sounding upset, he quickly goes on. "Some of the blood there was mine."

"So you did attack him," Stiles says from the back, and I'm not sure how I feel about how flippant he is about it. One hand, Stiles would probably find a way to hide all evidence, which is great, everyone needs that one friend. On the other hand, Stiles is that friend.

"No!" Scott throws am offended look back at him. "I saw glowing eyes in the back of the bus." My breath catches in my throat, my heart picking up as he goes on. "They weren't mine. It was Derek."

"Wha-"

"It wasn't Derek," I snap, cutting off Stiles. "Stop trying to pin everything on him."

"There you go again, jumping to his defense!" Stiles exclaims. "What's your deal with him, Ares?"

I glare at him through the rear view. "Fuck off, Stilinski. It wasn't him."

Stiles narrows his eyes at me before turning his attention to Scott. "What about the driver?"

"I was actually trying to protect him."

Stiles face warps in confusion. "Wait, what? Why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?"

"It wasn't Derek!" Both boys turn their full attention to me. Scott's glaring at me, expression hard. It doesn't suit him. His face is still too soft.

"Stiles is right, Ares, why are you always protecting him?"

"Because he didn't do it, Mardre de Dios, how many fucking times do I gotta tell you!"

"Just because you think so doesn't-" Stiles starts, but I cut him off again.

"What color were the eyes?"

"What?" Scott frowns.

"Los ojos, Scott, the glowing eyes, what color were they?" I demand, slowing down at the yellow traffic light ahead.

"I… I dunno…" he looks up as the light turns red and gasps. "Red! They were red."

The air rushes from my lungs and I close my eyes, trying to keep from breaking. The Alpha. He actually came for Scott.

"Derek has blue eyes when he shifts," I say, keeping my voice even. "Blue, not red."

"Wait, how do you know that?" Stiles demands.

"Because he showed me," I snap. "Scott's first full moon, when Derek got me out of the woods. He started rambling about the bite being a gift, so I kinda put him in a headlock and didn't let him out until he admitted that he wasn't the one that bit Scott."

They both stared at me in shock.

"You… you put him in a headlock?!" Scott exclaims. "Ares, he could have killed you!"

"But he didn't!" I shout back. "Scott, seriously, you keep painting him as a crazed killer, but he's literally never hurt me. For fuck's sake, he gave me a ride when he probably should have made me walk after you two assholes sent him to jail!"

They fall in an uncomfortable silence. It's Stiles that breaks it.

"How'd you get him in a headlock?"

"Faith, trust, and pixie dust," I drawl.

They don't bother trying to get the truth out of me.

Scott's on his stupid date and he stole my car. At least that's what we're telling Melissa if she finds out I gave it to him for the night. And because I'm a human female with basic human female functions, it was only a matter of time before the cravings hit. And they hit hard. With no means to get what I want, I figure it wouldn't hurt to try to get a ride.

What are you doing right now this very second
(A)
… Why?
(D)
I need ice cream or I'm going to straight up die.
(A)
Last I checked you had a car.
(D)
Scotty stole it for his date
(A)
Tough
(D)
Dude. Derek. Come on. Be a bro.
Derek.
Derek
Derk
Der
Drek
Stiles won't take me come on dude
ddddddddddeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeekkkkkk
(A)
GOD FINE I'LL BE THERE IN TEN MINS
(D)

Victory, as usual, is sweet.

"I appreciate you," I tell Derek as he pulls out of the twenty/four drive in. He rolls his eyes as I go on after shoving a spoonful of cold chocolate Oreo goodness into my mouth. "An' i's nah jus' cuza da ice 'ream." I swallow thickly. "I mean it, man. You're great. Scott and Stiles might think you're still a serial killer, but I know," I tell him, tapping my nose. "You're a big ole softy."

"Right." He glances over at me. "How'd it go last night? When he went to check out the bus?"

I make a face, and it's only partly from the brain freeze. "Bright idea, that," I mutter before going on. "He was there, but he was trying to help the guy. The glowy eyes he saw doing the actual attacking were red."

"The alpha."

"Scott was convinced it was you. I told him you had the blue thing going on, but I dunno if he's gonna buy it." I drop my head back. "Mijo's entirely too stubborn."

Derek snorts. "You're one to talk."

"I'd flick this ice cream at you if I didn't plan on destroying it myself," I warn, then nod at his gas gauge. "You need gas, dude."

"Don't call me dude," he says, signalling to pull into the empty little gas station.

"Sure, bro," I say with a grin, lowering the window as he turns off the car. He narrows his eyes at me before throwing open the door and getting out, closing the door a bit too forcefully. I roll my eyes before pulling myself out of the window, al la Dukes of Hazzard and sitting on the door, using the top as a table for my ice cream. Not exactly comfortable, mind you, but well worth the look Derek shoots my way.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demands. I open my mouth-full of ice cream at this time-at him and snort my laughter at the look on his face. "You disgust me."

"Just get the gas, loser."

He shakes his head, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and sliding it into the machine. I make a show of looking away when he enters his PIN, because while once upon a time it might have been something I might have paid attention to, I'm a changed woman now. Also I think he'd notice if I stole his card and used it on nothing but Ben & Jerry's.

"You realize we're going to have to tell him about the alpha soon," Derek says. I stare down at my ice cream.

"Yeah. Just… Not until we have to."

He nods once, and kudos to him for not arguing.

As he starts to fill the Camaro, I note the devastating lack of salty to go with my sweet. "Der," I say, setting down my ice cream on the hood of the car. He looks up and I hold my arm out to him. "Help me out. I want Chex Mix."

"Why do you need Chex Mix?" he demands, not moving. "You just got ice cream."

"Because I forgot fries and the pretzels in the black bag are the best," I tell him, waving my hand at him impatiently. "Come on, before it all melts!"

He huffs in what he wants to come across as annoyed, but I know. Leaving the nozzle to continue pumping, he moves to my side and wraps an arm around my waist while I drop mine across his shoulders. Which. Whoa, Derek Hale. You go, Derek Hale, Four for you.

"Don't see why you can't get out like a normal person," he mutters, pulling me out, catching my legs in his other arm before setting me down. I smile up at him and pat his chest before turning and walking away.

"You're my favorite," I say over my shoulder as I walk to the store. "The bestest!"

"Get me a Coke!" he calls out as I pull open the door. I bring up a thumb in acknowledgement.

Aside from the tired looking guy behind the counter, the gas station is empty. I raise my hand in way of greeting the employee, who offers a half-hearted greeting in return. Heading to the back for Derek's Coke, I pass the pastry aisle, glancing at the goods. A familiar purple packaging catches my eyes, and I stop short, doing a double take and nearly squealing.

They have Chokis. The kind with chocolate filling.

I snatch up five packages before thinking better of it and continue on my way. "If I could begin to be half of what you think of me," I sing softly under my breath, trailing a hand over the fridge doors as I search for the cokes. "I could do about anything, I could even learn how to love."

Finally finding the fridge I want, I throw open the door and grab Derek's drink, and after a second of debate I grab a Dr Pepper for myself for later.

"When I see the way you act, wondering when I'm coming back, I could do about anything. I could even learn how to love like you." Juggling the drinks and my cookies, I find the chip aisle and search for my Chex Mix. "I always thought I might be bad and now I'm sure that it's true, 'cause I think you're so good and I'm nothing like you."

When I manage to grab the whole reason I left Derek outside without dropping anything else - which, pretty proud of myself, not gonna lie - I quickly make my way to the front counter and dump my goods in front of the employee. He stares down at everything and then looks up at me with an arched brow. I cross my arms at him, daring him to say something. He figures it's in his best interest to keep his mouth shut and starts ringing up the food.

"You need a bag?"

I nod, pulling my wallet out of my pocket. "Please," I say, swiping my card and entering my pin. Once the transaction is done, I grab the bag the guy gives me and head for the door, pausing when I notice the two SUVs parked around the Camaro. The red one looks familiar, but I can't put a name to it. A man that most definitely isn't Derek is washing the Camaro's windshield.

I walk out, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach. As I get closer, I can hear the man speaking, and see a number of other men surrounding the car.

"You can actually look through your windshield now. I'm sure that makes everything so much clearer."

"Wow, that's so nice of you!" I say brightly, catching everyone's attention. The man that had been washing the windshield steps back and looks back at me, brow raised. Derek looks up, something akin to panic flashing in his eyes. "We're not paying you for it though," I go on, acting as if I don't know a threat when I walk in on one. "But do you think you can change the oil too?" I laugh at my joke, walking up and stopping in front of Derek, who's entirely too tense. "Got your soda," I tell him, handing him the bag. "There's cookies too if you want." I snatch my ice cream from where it still sits and look in the cup. "Sweet, not melted." I pause, bringing up a spoonful as I lean against the passenger door. "So what's with the party?"

"We were just catching up," the man says lightly, glancing over my head to Derek. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Derek give a small shake of his head. The man smiles tightly and nods. "Well, we should be off."

"Dri'e sa'e!" I say through a mouth full of ice cream as he and his men get back in their trucks. I wait until they're well on their way before turning to face Derek. "Okay, what was that?" I demand. "Where those hunters?"

Derek glares after the disappearing SUVs before nodding tightly. "He doesn't know you know," he says finally, looking down at me. "That was Chris Argent."

"That's Allison's dad?" I shake my head. "How the hell did that happen?"

Despite what just happened, a smile plays at Derek's lips. "You should see her mom. She's even scarier."

"I think I'd rather not." I pause and offer a spoon of ice cream to him. "You okay? You looked kinda worried there for a second."

He blinks once, his face going blank for a second. "Fine." He waves a hand, not taking the ice cream, and I shrug. More for me. "Why did you get all this?" he asks, bringing up the bag in confusion.

"They had the kind with the chocolate filling," I tell him matter of factly. "Now give me my pretzels."

When you're reading an especially fucked up nosleep about Park Rangers and the shenanigans they get into, you don't want to hear your aunt screaming in the room next to your own.

"Tia!" I throw open the door and flick on the lights, one arm extended with my pepper spray at hand, pointed at the figure on the bed. The same figure Melissa has a bat aimed at. "Stiles, what the hell, you creep!" I snap, dropping my arm once I recognize him. Melissa stares at the pepper spray still in my hands, then up at me.

"I like having you around," she says as Scott walks in the room, looking as if nothing was wrong. "Will you please tell your friend to use the front door?" she tells him.

Scott frowns, glancing between everyone that's in his room. "We lock the front door. He wouldn't be able to get in."

"Yeah, exactly. And, by the way, do either of you care that there's a police enforced curfew?" she demands, gesturing with the bat in her hand. Scott and Stiles answer in unison.

"No."

"No," Melissa repeats. "Alright then." She throws the bat onto the bed. "You know what, that's about enough parenting for me for one night." She turns and gives two peace signs as she walks out. "Good night."

"'Night, Tia!" I call after her, flopping on the bed next to Stiles. "You two are gonna give someone a heart attack."

"You're one to talk," Scott mutters before looking down at a stricken looking Stiles. He frowns, grabbing his computer chair and pulling it out in front of Stiles. "What?"

Stiles sighs. "My dad left for the hospital fifteen minutes ago, it's the bus driver." Scott leans in and shit. I feel like I know where this is going. "He said he succumbed to his wounds."

I drop my head back "Shit."

"Succumbed?" Scott asks, confusion lacing his tone.

"Scott, he's dead."

Scott's face falls. He leans back, processing Stiles' words. Once they make sense to him, his face tightens in rage.

"Scott, what're you doing?" I demand when he stands up. He doesn't answer, instead rushes out the door. "God." I drop my face in my hands, and it's like all the weight of the past weeks are dropping on my all at once. "Why do these horrible things keep happening?"

"We probably kicked puppies in a past life," Stiles says, his voice lacking its usual spark. "Are you gonna go make sure he doesn't do anything stupid?"

"I should." I glance over at Stiles. "Idiot probably went to go accuse Derek."

Stiles frowns. "You still think he didn't do it?"

I heave a sigh and pull my phone out of my pocket, sending off a quick text before answering. "Derek didn't do it. Everything you and Scott think he did, he didn't. He didn't bite Scott. He didn't kill his sister. He didn't attack the driver. Scott doesn't want to hear it from me, and I'm tired of having to repeat myself. If it takes getting his ass handed to him by Derek for Scott to finally get it through his thick skull, then I'm not getting in the middle of it."

Stiles gapes at me. "You're just going to let him go then?"

"You gotta make a mistake if you're gonna learn from it." I look up at Stiles and sigh at the betrayed look on his face. "Stiles, the alpha wants Scott in its pack. If he's gonna fight it, then he needs help I can't give him. He needs Derek."

"So you believe Derek when he says he isn't the alpha?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

I take a breath. "Derek and I saw the alpha after your game Saturday. It was hanging around the parking lot." I close my eyes, remember those red eyes. "Thank god Derek has a fast car, else we wouldn't be here." I look at Stiles, who's staring back with wide eyes. "It's big and mean and if I ever come across that thing alone, I won't be coming back alive."

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Stiles exclaims.

"Because sometimes it's better to not know when the big bad wolf is coming to get you, Stiles," I snap. "Scott doesn't need this. He doesn't, but it's happening and I can't protect him from it like I want to, but I can keep him from worrying about it." I pause. "I hoped to keep him from worrying about it."

I stand, drop my hand on Stiles' head, rubbing the buzzed cut.

"Go home. Scotty'll be fine. Derek won't hurt him too bad."

"How do you know?" Stiles demands, ducking away from my hand. I smile tiredly and hold up my phone.

"Because I asked nicely."

Tada! The next couple of weeks will be full of evil finals and last minute papers so there's probably going to be a lack of chapters until it's done and over with. So here's this one to hold you over until then. Thanks to those new followers and favoriters (that's not a word, but whatevs), and shoutout to those that have already been around. You're all the best. Leave a review to let me know how you like it so far!

Translations of the Spanish to English kind

1. Chillon - crybaby
2. Qué paso - what happened?
3. Los ojos - the eyes