My shift technically ended ten minutes ago, but Scott hasn't showed up yet, and I'm not leaving until I see him. Because we need to have a talk. A you almost murdered me but I still love you, you idiot little cousin talk.

If I can manage to keep my heart from racing and my throat from going dry and my palms from sweating at the thought of facing said idiot little cousin.

"Is everything alright, Ares?" Deaton asks, and I tear my gaze away from the door to look up at him. He frowns, and the concern is clear in his expression, which sucks, because I didn't think I was doing anything to cause concern. "You know you could have left already."

I nod, glancing back at the door when I thought I saw movement on the other side. There's nothing there. "Yeah… Yeah, no, I know," I say, shaking my head, as if it could shake away the paranoia. "I clocked out and all, I'm just waiting for Scott." I smile up at Deaton, trying for nonchalant, but his frown just deepens.

"He still has five minutes to get here." He pauses. "Not that I want you out, you know I enjoy your company," he amends when I pout.

"I just need to catch him before I leave, because I dunno what he's going to do after work," I explain. Because Stiles had texted some thirty minutes ago saying that Scott told him he was going over to his house after work, which that little fuck. Avoiding me like that. I left Stiles with instructions to make sure Scott gets to work. But teenage boys are not to be trusted, and I think it's safe to say I'm not gonna see either of them anytime soon. And I hate how I feel relief from that.

I huff. "I'll just wait for him at home. Melissa asked me to pick up some groceries, and I don't want to out when it's dark." Deaton nods, and I stand from my chair. "I'll see you tomorrow, Doc."

"Goodbye, Ares. Have a good afternoon."

I wave a hand in acknowledgement as I walk out the door in time to see Scott on his bike pulling into the parking lot. I stop short, taking a startled step back when I see him.

"Hey-hey, burro cabezón, way to answer my texts!" I call out to him as he walks his bike to the sign that acts as a makeshift bike rack. He doesn't so much as look at me, and I scowl at his back as I walk up to him. "You realize you can't ignore me forever, don't you?"

"You're afraid of me," he says abruptly, and I draw back at his tone. It's hollow. Not angry, or sad. Nothing.

"I am not-" He straightens and I step back at the sudden movement, my breath catching in my throat and my grip tightening on my keys. He turns to face me, and it's only when his face falls that I realize what I've done. "Shit. Shit, Scott, I'm not-" I drop my hands and take a step toward him. He shakes his head, letting out a sigh.

"Ares, it's fine," he says, voice flat. "Just go home."

I shake my head. "Fuck that. Scott, we need to talk." I reach out to grab his arm, to stop him, to try and get him to listen so we can get past this. He yanks away before I touch him and lets out an irritated growl. I jerk away, nearly stumbling over my feet in my hurry to get back.

"Go home, Ares," he says. And there's something in his voice, a spark in his eyes I've come to recognize in my time with him. He wants to argue. He wants me to disagree with him.

And God, I want to. I want nothing more to pull him into a big, annoying older cousin hug and assure him that it's all gonna be okay and that we're gonna be okay.

But I can't move from my spot. Can't get the vision of wild, golden eyes out of my head, of claws drawn back, all too willing to kill. And I know, I know that wasn't Scott last night. But that does nothing to calm my pounding heart and still my shaking hands.

Scott's eyes lose their spark of hope, and his expression hardens.

"I'll be home later," he says, and darts into the clinic before I can force myself to move.

As one can imagine, Melissa loses her shit when she finally sees me.

"Ares, that you?" she asks as I sneak past her to the kitchen, muttering under my breath about pride that didn't let me take two trips for the groceries.

"Yeah!" I call out. "Just-fuck!" I inhale sharply as a drop the bags on the counter and pull the plastic from the bags from my hands. "Putting away the groceries!" I shake out my hand and start pulling the things from the bags.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, my dear beloved niece," she says, and I jump, whirling around on reflex, at how her voice comes from the kitchen's entrance and not the living room, where she had been laid up watching a novela. "Did you get juice-ARES!"

Her face drains of color as she rushes up and immediately takes my face into her hands.

"Okay, don't freak-"

"Qué pasó?!" she exclaims, voice high with panic, and it stabs into my very soul. "Qué hiciste?!" And as quickly as the panic appeared in her eyes, it's wiped away just as fast, replaced with the fire worthy of Hera's Furies. "Quién te golpeó?"

"Tia, please, calm down!" I exclaim, pulling away from. "Nadie me golpeó! It's fine, I promise!" She obviously doesn't believe me, and it occurs to me she must have seen this kind of thing in her years as a nurse. "Me caí cuando fui corriendo." She narrows her eyes at me, looking for the lie, and I mean, it isn't a complete lie. I did fall on my face while I was running. It just happened I was running from her son, who was trying to kill me. "Tia, te lo juro, fue solamente mi culpa, nadie mas."

She searches for the lie. "It wasn't the boy at the diner?"

I throw my head back and scoff. "Please, as if Derek would have let him-" I stop short and look at her. Because I didn't tell her about that.

"The Sheriff told me," she says, and while I'm happy she isn't gonna go off on a rampage of some sort, I can't help but feel absolutely annoyed at her and Sheriff Stilinski. Because can a girl not get into questionable shenanigans with her werewolf bro-it is appropriate to call him that now? - without everyone finding out about it?

"Chismosos!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up. "No, it wasn't that guy! I tried to jump a hurdle and fell. Tell the Sheriff that next time you see him, chismosa," I accuse.

Her face finally smooths out. "Ares," she chides. I give her a pointed look. "A boy attacked you? We have a right to worry if this is the kind of stuff you get into."

"It's not like I planned on it to happen," I mutter. "And Derek stopped him from doing anything." I shake my head. "When did you two even have time to talk about that?"

"We text," she says simply. "Ares," she goes on at the look I give her. "His son has ADHD and Scott, amor de mi alma, is not always a smart boy and they both have horrible impulse control. This is how the Sheriff and I ensure the survival of our children."

I choke back a laugh, because yes. She makes a very good argument. We work in silence for a moment before she speaks up again.

"So," she starts, and I groan internally. "I couldn't help but notice a certain black camaro in front of the house when I got home."

"Yeaaah…"

She gives me a pointed look. "Am I going to have to give you the gasoline talk?" she demands, and I frown in confusion for a split second before I remember how Scott had mistaken her "fill the tank" talk about the car for a safe sex talk and Oh my god.

"No!" I exclaim, my face burning and no doubt turning the brightest shade of red. "Tia!"

"I'm just saying!" she says, raising her hands in defense. "You're a beautiful young woman, a responsible young woman, and I don't know what's going on with you two-"

"Nothing is going on!" I say in horror. "We just fell asleep watching a movie!" The lie comes out without thought, and I would be worried about how easily it comes to me if not for the fact that Melissa is questioning my virtue.

"Really?" She quirks up a brow and sounds genuinely surprised. "Nothing between you two?"

"Nooo…?"

"That didn't sound very sure," she teases, and I drop my face into my hands and let out a high whine. "Ares, I'm not going to police you about having a boyfriend," she says, and I peek up at her through my fingers.

"He's not my boyfriend." I pause, dropping my hands with a pout. "We're just…"

"You are not just friends," Melissa points out. "Not with how worried he was about you Friday night." I look up at her in surprise. I never did get around asking her about her talk with him. She shakes her head, not noticing my attention. "Honestly, that boy." She gives me a pointed look. "He seems like a good kid, Ares. I'm glad you found him."

My mind wanders to my time spent with Derek. Our trips to the diner, our morning runs. His shift in attitude, not so aloof and guarded. His stupid sunshine smile and multicolor eyes. I can't help the smile on my face as I think to this morning, and his soft kiss.

"Yeah," I agree. "Me too."

Stiletto
Hey are you aware your werewolf asshole friend just stole your werewolf cousin from my house to engage in werewolf shenanigans?
Without us

I stare down at my phone, frowning as I sit up from where I lounge on the couch. I was not aware that there were werewolf shenanigans to engage in.

Liking Derek Hale is a rollercoaster of emotions. Happy little butterflies one moment, absolute, utter annoyance the next. I pull up our conversation from earlier today and send a message his way.

Explain the werewolf shenanigans you intend to engage in.
(A)

I'm going to kill Stiles
(D)
You will do no such thing. And honestly, you should have known better than to think he wasn't going to tell me anything.
So kindly explain the werewolf shenanigans.
(A)

He doesn't reply, but before I can get even more annoyed and decide it's time to drive around town looking for the idiots, a new message comes in. From Scott. Which is a nice surprise, considering how our conversation went earlier.

Human Puppy
dereks drivin were gonna see harris bc his sister talked to him b4 she died
(HP)
Your teacher? Why?
And why do you need to be there?
(A)
idk backup? its fine were just gonna talk
(HP)
Right. Okay whatever. Be careful, both of you. And pls don't let him beat up your teacher.
(A)
i think im ok w him beating up this one
(HP)
Scott no.
Be home by 9, you have school in the morning.

He doesn't answer. And I swear, if I wake up to the news that Derek has been arrested - again - I'm beating both of them with Scott's bat. But talking to a teacher doesn't sound too dangerous. Unless the teacher is the alpha?

I shake my head. "That's stupid, that teacher hates Scott," I remind myself. "No way in hell he'd try to tie Scott to him forever."

I glance at the time and wonder if Stiles has been fed something other than frozen pizza and curly fries.

Stiles opens his front door and turns back into the house without looking up from his phone or a word of greeting. I shake my head at his back and follow him in, closing and locking the door behind me.

"Hey, Stiles, how are you this fine evening?" I ask, dropping my keys on the table in the Stilinski home foyer and grabbing the jacket that didn't quite make it to the coat rack.

"Your stupid werewolf friend stole my stupid werewolf best friend," he calls over his shoulder, and if I didn't already know the Sheriff isn't home right now, I probably would have tackled him to shut him up.

"Don't be so jealous," I tell him, making my way to the kitchen, kicking a pair of Stiles' shoes out of the middle of the hallway as I go. "They're just going to talk to your evil science teacher."

"Ew, Harris?" His head snaps up and he stops short. "Why-Jesus, Ares, your face, what the fuck happened?!" I take a step back and duck out of reach when he reaches out on instinct, and it's a good thing I did, or he'd just add to the damage. "Did this happen last night? Is this what Scott was crying to Allison about? I thought Derek was with you-"

"Stiles."

His mouth snaps shut, only to immediately open again. Nothing comes out, and he flails his hands at my face.

"I fell."

"That's a bullshit answer and you know it," he snaps. "What happened? It was Scott, wasn't it? The Alpha got to him, didn't it?"

I consider briefly, very briefly, lying to him again. But I had been lying all day, and I'm beyond stressed - hence the need to get out of the house and be productive elsewhere - and as much as I don't want drop my problems on Stiles, he really is a good person to vent to. But first:

"Will your dad notice if I dip into his Jack?"

Stiles draws back in surprise. "You don't drink anymore."

"I do now," I say, making my way past him to the liquor cabinet. "Don't worry, I cook better when I'm buzzed."

"Ares, this sounds like a very bad idea," Stiles says, and I scoff at his attempt to be the reasonable one for once. I open the doors of the cabinet and grin at the beautiful bottles on display. Let it be known that Sheriff Stilinski knows how to stock up on the good stuff. "If my dad comes back-"

"Your dad works until midnight," I tell him, pulling a bottle and a stout glass. "I'll be done and out of here way before then. Besides, one glass isn't going to get me drunk." I look at him pointedly, and he bounces anxiously before following me into the kitchen.

"Nevermind you haven't drank since before you got here," he mutters, and I have a feeling I wasn't supposed to hear that.

"Stiles Stilinski, were you not the one with the bright idea to get drunk just two nights ago?" I demand, setting down the bottle and cup.

"Yeah, but you weren't included in that. You were just supposed to-to babysit. Because that's what you do!" I look up at him, nose crinkling in disgust at the idea that I'm only good for being a watch out. "Ares, you're the responsible one. The Mom-friend. The Apha! You can't be getting drunk-"

"I didn't sign up to be your stupid mom-friend-alpha, you shit. Not when it almost gets me killed twice in the same week!" My voice raises with emotion as I yank at the neck of my sweatshirt and reveal the gauze of Derek's carefully placed bandages. Stiles gapes at the sight of it. "So shut the fuck up, let me drink your dad's booze, and eat what I make you."

He says nothing, and I almost feel bad about my outburst. Almost. But I can't find it in myself to actually feel anything about it, and instead twist of the cap of the bottle, pour myself a nice amount, and raise it to Stiles' shocked face.

"Salud."

I throw back about half the drink. It brings with it a familiar warmth, but it tastes… stronger than I remember. Whatever, it'll be fine.

I look at Stiles, who eyes the cup warily. "So. What do you want for dinner?"

"You know, I swore off alcohol after coming here," I tell Stiles, who's eating away at a cheese stuffed chile relleno. He arches a brow at the newly poured cup in my hand. I ignore his judgy facial expressions and go on. Because I have a right to express myself. "I said to myself, I said, 'Aracely, niña, no mas. You're turning into a borracha, pendeja, que estas haciendo?' Y sabes que?" I demand, pointing my cup at him, and the whisky sloshes dangerously within. I don't wait for his answer. "I stopped. Seis meses." I look at him, squinting a bit because he looks a little confused. "You know what that means?"

He blinks up at me. "Six months?"

I let out a proud laugh. "Carray, que intelligente!"

"Okay, you're getting a bit too spanglish, Ares, I think it's time you put the cup down-or completely down it, that's cool too," he finishes lamely as I throw back the drink in its entirety. "Nope, you don't get anymore," he says, snatching the bottle away from me when I try to grab it to refill my cup. "You're cut off, I'm cutting you off. Anymore and my dad is going to notice." I whine, slouching into the chair I sit in as he returns the bottle to the cabinet I raided it from.

Stupid. Oh, sure, they can get drunk, but the minute Ares wants to get out of her head for a bit, it's suddenly the worst thing to ever happen. Be responsible, Aracely, take care of the teenagers, Aracely, nevermind you yourself are only three years older than them.

"You want some water?" Stiles offers as he returns. "Get yourself hydrated and home?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "No. I'm not even drunk."

"Yeah, well, you're not sober either," he counters, taking the cup from my hand. I drop my head back on the back rest and watch upside down as he runs it under the sink, rinsing it out. "Are you gonna tell me what happened to your face now?"

"Scott tried to kill me," I say flatly. "Derek kicked his ass. I'm traumatized." I pick my head back up and blink as the room spins a bit and shit. Maybe I'm a little more far gone than I thought.

"Jesus, Ares, are you serious?" I level him with a look and point to my face. He nods. "Right. So, what're you gonna do?"

I shrug helplessly. "Derek says they have to get rid of the alpha 'cause it keeps killing people and is making Scott all-" I bring up my hands and curl them into claws and let out a growl. "So they gotta kill the fucker and then Scott won't have it in his head anymore and Derek will be in charge and it'll be great."

"Yeah, I guess that wor-wait, Derek will be in charge?" Stiles looks at me in bewilderment and I realize my mistake. "Please don't say that means what I think it means." I don't answer, instead slouching even lower into the chair. "Ares, he can't become the Alpha! He's an asshole!"

"I know, but he's a good asshole. With pretty eyes." I lean my head back and can't stop the soft smile at the thought of Derek's eyes. Everchanging soft brown, green, and blue. "Y su sonrisa. Ay, mi lobito." I bury my face in my hands and shake my head.

"I don't know what you just said, but I know it was disgusting. What the hell, Ares, since when do you like him like that?" he asks incredulously and I shrug, letting my arms hang at my sides, unable to be bothered by the fact that he now knows. "You're ace, you don't like people."

"I like him. I just," I wave a hand dismissively, "don't wanna fuck him."

"Thank god for that," Stiles mutters.

"Whatever," I say, not wanting to think about it anymore. Because I haven't exactly come out as ace to Derek, and I'm not entirely sure how that changes things. Sure, he saw my playlist, but what if he doesn't realize what it really means? Or if he hasn't connected the dots? He isn't stupid, surely he know… Unless he just doesn't know what ace means…

Oh god, am I crushing on a guy that won't be okay with my asexuality? Because I can't deal with that again. Elliot was bad enough.

"Stiles, Stiles!" I reach out and smack his arm urgently. He jerks back, face twisting in offense.

"What?!"

"Would you date a girl who doesn't like sex?"

His face draws in distaste before he realizes what he's doing, and I fall back into my chair in defeat. Fuck. Fuck. I'm an idiot. "I'm not sure I'm the best person for you to ask that, Ares," he says quickly, like it can take back his initial response. "I mean, I'm a sex crazed teenager with a regular porn schedul-"

I groan loudly and lurch forward, all but slamming my head into the table before forcing myself to straighten.

"Where are you going?" Stiles asks, voice coated with alarm as I stand. I blink at him, swaying a bit, and grab the table to steady myself.

"I'm gonna go die alone on your couch."

I really enjoyed reading how you guys see/faceclaim Ares; it was interesting to see how different they were!

As always, I really appreciated the reviews! Shout out to those who fav/followed! I can't wait to drop the next chapter on you, because it's gonna be great. Y'all gonna suffer a bit. It'll be fantastic. (Also i didn't go over this ch editing wise as well as I should have bc I really wanted to throw it out for y'all, soo if there's anything really wrong grammar/spelling wise, pls let me know so I can fix!)

Happy Holidays! Sending out good vibes to everyone this season!

So i feel like I should put this out there that I'm not entirely sure I'm using accent marks correctly and if I'm not, I'm so sorry. I've never really been good at those… Anywho.

Translations
Qué pasó - what happened
Qué hiciste - what did you do
Quién te golpeó - who hit you
Nadie me golpeó - no one hit me
Me caí cuando fui corriendo - I fell when I went running
te lo juro, fue solamente mi culpa, nadie mas - I swear it was just my fault, no one else
niña, no mas - girl, no more
Borracha - drunk
que estas haciendo?' - what are you doing
Y sabes que - and you know what
que intelligente - how smart
Y su sonrisa. Ay, mi lobito - and his smile. Oh my little wolf