What's good, it's me, Galanerd, returning to bring you suffering

The plan is for me to go talk to Allison after work. Ask about the necklace in a nonchalant way, avoid her aunt, and get any information to Scott and Derek that might be useful. Finally, make it to the game and watch the Cyclones make it to state. This is the plan and it is a perfect plan.

Someone knocks on my car window, and I let out a scream as I jump, damn near high enough to brain myself on the roof of the Turtle. My hand flies to my mouth as I look out the window, and there stands a startled Chris Argent, who is quickly taking a step back, hands raised in a placating manner.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I gasp, trying to calm my pounding heart. I shake my head as I roll down the window.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he says in greeting, and I can't bring myself to believe him. But I need him to not hate me, and so offer a smile.

"Oh, no, you're fine," I say with a dismissive wave of my hand. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Ares, right?" he asks, eying my bruised face, and I nod. "Allison mentioned that you would be coming," he goes on, stepping back and gesturing to the house. "You're more than welcome to wait inside for her."

I can feel my face go just absolutely blank. "Oh. Oh, no it's fine, I can-"

"I insist," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument, and shit. Shiiiit. "She wouldn't forgive me if I left you out here."

"Oh-okaaay," I say slowly, and he offers a smile that I'm sure he means to come off as sincere but really just makes it look like he wants to murder me and god. No wonder Derek didn't want me to come here. I roll my window back up and shut off the Turtle. Argent steps back as I jump out, and he leads the way to the house.

"Allison likes to go run sometimes after school," he explains as he opens the front door. He gestures for me to enter, and I hesitate for a moment before stepping in. "She should be home soon."

I nod as I follow him through the foyer into the living room. "She's a runner? Good for her. Running is great. I like running too." And I'm rambling. God, I sound like Stiles. I clear my throat as he gestures to the couch.

"Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Oh, no, thank you," I say, waving off the offer. "I'm good." I glance around, taking in my surroundings as I make my way to the couch and sit, carefully. Argent nods, and takes a seat in the chair next to the couch.

"So, Ares." I look up at him, and it takes everything in me not to wilt under his scrutinizing gaze. "Tell me about yourself."

I offer a hesitant smile. "There really isn't anything to tell-"

"How are you related to Scott?"

"His mom is my aunt, my dad's sister," I say automatically, unable to stop myself from spewing the answer. He nods, feigned interest.

"Have you been in Beacon Hills long?"

"Just about half a year."

"Ah. Still new to town then." He gives what might have been a sympathetic nod. "Quick to get on the Sheriff's good side," he notes, and I nod, not quite sure where this conversation is going. "Enough to get him to like Derek Hale, even, given that he was suspected of murder not long ago."

I blink at him, cocking my head to the side as he goes on. "Tell me, Ares," he says, all good humor dropping from his voice. "What were you doing at the school Wednesday night?" His tone drips with accusation, and I draw back at it.

"I got a text from Scott. I was looking for him."

He doesn't seem convinced, and god. Oh, god, does he still thinks I'm a werewolf? Derek said he wouldn't. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna freaking die.

"You brought Derek Hale with you," he says calmly, but with the same calm I've seen from Elisa before being accused of just about anything. "Why?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "This sounds a lot like an interrogation, Mr. Argent." He nods to the side, as if agreeing, and I huff. I had enough of this shit in Texas, and I'm not about to deal with it here. Not from someone who doesn't even have authority over me. "I don't know what you're accusing me of, but I didn't do anything. Derek came because he's my friend, and didn't want me out alone," I tell him. "Not that I owe you an explanation." I stand. "I think I'll wait in my car for Allison."

"I'm just trying to understand what happened," Argent says, rising from his seat as well, and it makes my stomach twist when he takes a step forward. "My daughter was targeted."

"Yeah? So was my cousin," I counter, stepping away from him. "And you're not the only one pissed about it." His expression shifts, and it seems that for the first time since I've been here, he actually sees me. "I'll see myself out."

He makes no move to stop me. Unfortunately, Allison does. She walks in through the door, head down as she pulls earbuds out of her ears. She looks up, and her expression lighting up.

"Ares! Hey-" She stops short when she sees my face, and her eyes go wide in alarm. "Oh my god! What happened?!" She rushes forward, and I take a step back to avoid her crashing over me. "Did someone hit you?!" And I'm surprised to face a darkness in her eyes, like she's ready to pull a Genghis Khan and destroy an entire village, down to the rats, for my sake. Which, aw, but also AH.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I hold up my hands to calm her. "It's fine, Allison, no one hit me!" I glance back at Argent, who seems just as interested in my answer as Allison. He hadn't asked about it, but he had obviously been eyeing it earlier. "I was at the track running and I wanted to see if I could clear a hurdle." I rub the back of my head in embarrassment. "Turns out I can't."

"Really?" she asks, and I nod.

"Honest. It was my own damn fault."

She doesn't seem too convinced, but is content enough with the answer. She looks up to her dad. "We'll be in my room, okay, Dad?" He nods, and I let her pull me away, trying to ignore the way Argent stares after us.

"My dad wasn't too weird with you, was he?" she asks, leading me to her room, and when I don't answer immediately, she lets out a long suffering sigh. "I'm sorry. He's just… really overprotective." She rolls her eyes.

"Oh, yeah, no, it's fine, I totally get it," I assure her, despite making a note to never ever be alone or near that man again. "When my brother heard what happened on Wednesday, he threatened to come up here and kidnap me back to Texas."

She laughs as she looks back at me, and her expression falls when I don't join her. "You're serious?" I nod sadly. She gives a hesitant smile, as if she isn't sure what to do with the information. She stops in front of a door at the end of the stairs. "So, this is mine. It might be a little messy, but-"

"Psh." I wave a hand. "You should see my room on a bad day. You're good."

She smiles and opens the door. And it isn't the messiest room I've ever seen. It's actually clean, for a teenage girl's room. "So, you wanted to see my necklace?" she asks, walking in.

"Yeah, if you don't mind. I told my friend Warren about it because he loves spooky shit and he wanted a picture of it." I shrug when she looks back at me, brow arched in confusion. "He's really big on horror stuff, and when I told him about your necklace and he's convinced you're actually some supercool Van Helsing descendant. Or something a descendent of Van Helsing would hunt," I say brightly, and she laughs.

"Well, I'm not a monster," she assures me, crossing the room to her desk and picking up a book. "And I don't actively go hunting for mythical creatures, so." She hands me the book.

"Boring," I drawl, and she laughs. "This book for your school project?" I ask, noting the old, discolored cover, and flip it open. The necklace acts as a bookmark, and it's exactly as I remember. It's the exact same thing as the one Derek showed us.

"Yeah," she answers. "Family history."

"I had to do a family tree in highschool," I muse, scanning the page. "Sucked. I have like nine tios on my mom's side." I note how Allison circled the words legend, mythic monster, and loup garou. "So, you might not be a monster hunter, but someone in your family was," I say without thinking, and she looks at me curiously. "Loup Garou? Werewolf?" I gesture to the bed. "Can I sit?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." She pauses. "I'm gonna go clean up," she says, moving to her dresser to get clothes. "You'll be okay by yourself?"

"A-okay, honey bunch." She smiles brightly, and I almost feel bad for lying to her as she walks out the room. I turn back to the necklace, taking care to notice the details in the design. It's a weird, irregular circular shape, almost like a warped shield, or coat of arms. The designs stick out, textured. A wolf under a star, standing next to a linked chain? I shake my head, pulling my phone out and snapping a picture of the front before turning it over in my hand.

The back is smooth, as smooth as an old pendant can be. I finger the sides, but it doesn't seem to open. I scowl, setting it down and opening a group message to include Scott, Stiles, and Derek, and send off the picture.

Got the necklace.
(A)
Is there anything on it that might lead to the alpha
(D)
Yeah does it open like a locket
(S)
Doesn't open. It's just a hunk of metal.
A creepy hunk of metal
(A)
so it was a dead end
(HP)
If there isn't anything there, get out
Don't stay longer than you have to
(D)
I'm not just gonna leave, that's rude
(A)
Ares.
(D)
Hey, Stiles, any luck with the number?
(A)
Danny's looking. It took me forever to convince him to help. I had to resort to bribery
(S)
Ares
(D)
I think she's coming back. Stiles, let me know if you find anything
(A)
Will do, Alpha Ares
(S)
Dammit, Ares
(D)

I shove my phone back in my pocket just before Allison walks back into the room. She isn't alone. A very pissed off looking Lydia trails behind her.

"-can't believe he would say that. To me!" she shouts, and I blink up at them in surprise. Lydia storms into the room, not even noticing me. "I'd like to see him try to get someone better than me!"

"Lydia…" Allison starts, glancing over at me and shrugging her shoulders helplessly.

"He isn't even captain anymore!" Lydia goes on. "He's co-captain!"

And I think I should take offense to that on Scott's behalf.

"Um, are you okay?" I ask. Lydia whirls on me, the fury of a woman scorned burning in her eyes, something I'm all too familiar with thanks to my dearest sister. I lean back to avoid the blaze.

"Jackson broke up with ME!" she screams, and Holy Shit. The girl could put Alicia to shame. "Over a TEXT!" She throws her purse down on the bed next to me and rummages through it, pulling out her phone. "'Lydia, please give up my spare house key at your earliest convenience, as we are no longer dating?!'"

Ouch. "That's cold," I mutter. Even I broke up with Elliot face to face. Of course, that lead to a number of problems, but still.

"Why would he do that?" Allison asks, and Lydia throws her hands up.

"Big changes in his life? What, is he gay?"

I choke, offended on the behalf of a certain gay Asian in Texas whom I love and adore, and Allison gasps. "Lydia!" she chastises.

"I'll show him," Lydia goes on, fuming. "I don't need him. He, he needs me."

I shake my head. "Lydia, honey," I start, and she narrows her eyes at me. A weaker woman would have backed down. But I grew up around Alicia Camela Delgado, and am as brave as it comes to dealing with messy break ups. "Lydia. Men are pigs," I tell her knowingly. She inhales deeply, jaw clenched.

"I know."

Allison looks like she wants to argue against it, and maybe even use Scott as a counter argument, which is cute, but also might ruin my attempts to placate this girl. Luckily, she stays quiet at the look I shoot her. "We have some ice cream in the fridge," she instead offers. Lydia side eyes her suspiciously. "Chocolate chip cookie dough and mint chocolate chip."

"One bowl," Lydia decides after a moment of consideration. "I'm not letting myself go because of him."

"That's the spirit!" I tell her brightly. "Fuck boys, and not sexually!"

Allison bites back her laugh and watches as Lydia snatches her bag up and strides out the door as if the hall was a Parisian catwalk. "Ice cream?" she offers me, and I shrug, ignoring the voice in my head that sounds an awful lot like one Derek Hale telling me to skedaddle before I end up at the wrong end of a crossbow.

"If you insist."

If there's anything Derek Hale needs to accept if this is going to work out, it's that ice-cream beats him out. Every time.

Lydia's already digging through the fridge when Allison and I catch up to her. She isn't alone in the kitchen, however. A woman with short, choppy red hair stands to the side, watching Lydia's actions with disdain. She has steely eyes, but surprisingly, there's something beneath the steel that looks so much like Allison's. Her expression is stony, and she watches me warily as I follow Allison in.

"Mom, hey," Allison greets, and I do a double take. "This is Ares," she goes on, introducing me. I raise a hand in a wave.

"Oh, dear, what happened?" she asks, and her concern sounds fake as she inspects my face. I shift nervously beneath her gaze.

"I fell running," I lie. "Hurdles got the best of me. Shows me for trying to show off."

She hums and steps back. "Do you girls need anything?"

"Ice cream," Lydia says, head still in the fridge. Breakup, Allison mouths to her mom, who nods in understanding. She moves to the cabinets and pulls out three bowls and spoons.

"So, Ares, Chris was telling me you've only been here a few months?"

It weirds me out a bit that her parents talked about me, and judging by the look that flashes across Allison's face, it weirds her out too.

I nod. "I got here in June. Been staying with my aunt and Scott."

"Are you liking it here? You mentioned running, ever use the trails out in the Preserve?" Allison frowns at her mom's questions as she moves Lydia aside and pulls out the two cartons of ice cream.

"Oh, no, no, no!" I laugh, waving the question away. "I'm too much of a city girl to go running out there. I need a paved road." And it isn't a lie. Last time I tried a cross country track, I slipped on the gravel and ended up a bloody mess. I still have something of a scar above my right eyebrow, only just there.

Mrs. Argent nods, and sets out the bowls. "Well, I'll be in the study if you need anything," she tells us, and with one last look my way, walks out.

Stiles sends a text about an hour later. Allison, Lydia, and I have retreated to Allison's room and Lydia is sharing all the things Jackson is bad at. Apparently she fakes a lot. I figured as much. I can't imagine sixteen year olds being much good at that particular activity, if Sonya and Warren's stories were anything to go off of.

I didn't have to live through that particular activity until the summer before my first semester of college, and even then Warren and I were too drunk for it to be anything but an entertaining mess.

I swipe the message open, and frown when I notice that it isn't the group chat.

Danny traced the number.
(S)
And?
(A)

The next message is a screenshot. I can feel the color drain from my face as I register what it says.

What the fuck.

"What the fuck," I breathe, and Allison looks up in concern. I swallow hard and try to force a smile. "Can I use your bathroom?" I ask, getting up. She nods, expression concerned.

"It's down the hall, first door to the left." She pauses as I make for the door. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just… need to pee." It falls flat, and I know she can hear the lie, but she doesn't say anything about it. I find the bathroom with no trouble, and as soon as I'm in with the door locked, I press call. Stiles answers almost immediately.

"Stiles, qué chingado es esto?" I demand through gritted teeth, and I can hear Stiles sucking in a breath.

"Okay, Ares, English, please, I'm not as good as Scott-"

"What the fuck is this, Stiles?"

"That's what Danny got," he says. "I texted you first. I haven't even told Scott."

"And your friend is sure this is where the number came from?"

"He swears by it, Ares." I drop my face into my hand and bite back a scream, because what the FUCK.

"Melissa couldn't have sent that message, Stiles," I snap, anger flaring in my chest at the mere idea of that being an option.

"I'm not saying she did, but it was sent from her work computer," he explains in a rush. He pauses. "What're you going to do?"

I try to organize my thoughts through my confusion and anger, and I can't help the tint of betrayal I feel. "It came from the hospital," I say, talking out my options. "The Alpha is close to the hospital. I guess… Fuck, I guess I'm gonna go check out the hospital."

And punch that mother fucker in the throat because how dare he try to blame MY tia.

Stiles sputters. "What, now? Ares, you can't go alone!"

"I won't, I won't," I assure him. "I'll call Derek. Have him meet me there."

"Ares, that sounds like a not great plan. You should tell Scott."

I shake my head, despite the fact Stiles won't be able to see it. "Not yet. I don't want him thinking his mom is the one doing this. Besides, she's off work right now and going to the game. It'll be easier for us to check it out."

Stiles is quiet for a second. "I should go with-"

I shoot down the idea before he has a chance to completely articulate it."What, Stiles, no! You get to play today! No, you need to stay at the game and keep an eye on Scott and my tia," I instruct him. "I'll be fine with Derek. We'll check out the hospital and be out in time for me to see the most of your game," I assure him. He huffs, and I don't have to see him to know how much he hates this plan.

"And I'm not supposed to tell Scott you're going?"

"No, just tell him I'll be there later." I take a breath, because it feels like I just uttered some famous last words. "I gotta go. I'll see you at the game."

I hang up before he can argue and take a shuddering breath to calm myself. Looking at the picture again, I narrow my eyes at it, because-as I've mentioned before- WHAT THE FUCK.

Beacon Hills Hospital
Account registered to Melissa McCall.

Allison looks up when I walk back in her room. "Hey, um, I gotta go," I say, giving an awkward wave. She looks up, concern in her eyes. Lydia on the other hand, just keeps glaring at her phone, likely at the text Jackson sent her earlier. Which. Mental note: have a sit down talk with that boy and threaten to rip off his balls, because who breaks up a serious relationship over a text? If he thinks he's getting the bite now- HA!

"Is everything okay?" Allison asks, moving to stand.

"Yeah, yeah, I just, have to run home to do some stuff," I lie. "I'll see you at the game?" She nods, uncertain.

"I'll walk you out-"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks," I say, gesturing to her book and necklace. "Warren is going to love that."

"Yeah, no problem." She pauses. "You sure you're okay?"

"Peachy," I say brightly, and all but flee.

I'm almost to the hospital by the time I get the nerve to call Derek. He answers on the second ring.

"You alright?" he asks, and warmth fills in my chest.

"I'm fine," I assure him, stopping at a sign. "I'm cool. Fantastic."

And I think he can hear the pure rage that has bloomed now that I've had time to think about what the Alpha had done. Blame Melissa? Who works her ass off to provide for her kid? Who took in her niece she hadn't seen in years?

That. That. Pinche hijo de su chingada puta madre.

"Ares."

"Stiles's friend tracked the number that texted us," I say in a rush, and grip the wheel hard when the hospital comes into view, my knuckles going white. "It came from a computer at the hospital. From Melissa's computer."

"Your aunt?" he asks, sounding absolutely flabbergasted. There's a pause, as I'm sure he's putting two and two together. "Ares, where are you?"

"She didn't do it," I snap, and he huffs in frustrations.

"Ares-"

"That piece of pinche mierda tried to blame her!"

"Where. Are. You," Derek grounds out. I consider not answering, but even I know that it's probably a bad idea to go running into a building the Alpha has access to without him.

"Not near her." I assure him. Any relief he might feel is quickly snuffed out though. "About to pull into the hospital parking lot."

"Ares, no." And I can hear the sound of a door slamming on his side of the line. "Do not go in there alone. Five minutes," he promises. An engine revs to life. "I'll be there in five minutes."

"She isn't even working," I tell him. Pull into a space near entrance and shut off the Turtle. "I just need to check-"

"Ares, do not go in there," he growls, and I pull my phone back in surprise.

"Did you just-"

"I mean it." I bite at my thumbnail, watching the front entrance. I can't just sit around. That fucker tried to frame Melissa, and I'll be damned if I let that slide. Not to mention the answer we need might be so close. And the alpha might not even be there. If anything, it'll be near Scott right now, right?

"Five minutes?" I ask, and hate how relieved he sounds when he answers.

"Five minutes."

"It takes like five minutes to get to Melissa's computer from the lot. I'll meet you up there."

"Ares, no-"

I don't hang up, but I pull the phone away and hop out of the Turtle, shoving my phone in my pocket still on. "Let's get this shit over with," I mutter to myself, and fueled with pure Latina rage and questionable life choices, stalk into the hospital.

The hospital is quiet, and the staff doesn't pay me any notice as I make my way to the elevator. The computer is on the third floor, and with each level the elevator goes up, a knot in my stomach grows, and I'm not sure if it's my anger or my body trying to tell me to get the fuck out.

I… probably should have waited for Derek.

The doors open, and I step out into an empty hall. Knowing Derek is probably beyond pissed and that I'm going to need him to talk me through whatever I need to look for until he gets here, I pull my phone out.

"You still there?" I ask.

"Where the hell are you?" Derek snarls, and man. He's probably gonna kick my ass if I don't end up dying here.

"In Melissa's hall." I walk forward, and try to put off an aura of I belong here. Not that it seems to matter. No one is here. I say as much to Derek.

"Then get out," he snaps. "You don't even know what to look for." And he's right. I look around. The lighting is dimmer than usual, the patients' ward hall dark, lights off for the night. The nurses' station is empty, and I frown, because isn't there always supposed to be someone to make sure the people don't, you know, die? Little by little, my anger dissipates and is replaced with a sense of unease. A thick feeling in my lungs that makes breathing a bit harder than it should be.

This was a mistake.

"Ares."

"Yeah," I nod, and stop in front of Melissa's workstation. I lean over the counter and glance at the area, noting the pictures of Scott she has. Baby faced Scott, awkward preteen Scott, awkward now Scott. A couple of both Scott and Stiles. A doodle of a mermaid I made for her once while I waited for her to get off so we could go to lunch. "Yeah, I'm going." I step back, and nearly scream when I bump into someone. I whirl around, almost dropping my phone, and there's a red headed woman scowling at me.

"What are you doing here?" she demands, and I glance down at the syringe and bottle in her hand. Probably on rounds.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-" I shake my head, and she takes a step forward. "I'm looking for my aunt, but she isn't here-" I bump back into the counter.

"Oh, you can't mean to leave so soon."

The voice is male, smooth, and I whirl around to see a man walking out of a room. A white man, with dark brown hair, long and wavy, as if it hadn't been cut in a while. He smiles, and it pulls at the burn scars that cover the left half of his face. I freeze, my back going rigid and the air rushing out of my lungs.

"Derek's told me so much about you."

Derek… the burn marks, the surviving uncle…

I. I done fucked up.

"You're… you're Peter," I choke out. And he tilts his head to the side, impressed. "Derek said. You're supposed to be comatose."

Move, Ares. Ares, you fucking idiot, MOVE.

His eyes flash red, fiery red. My phone slips out of my hand, and I can still hear Derek's tinny voice coming through.

"Yes, well. Werewolves heal."

At least I didn't go on a semester long hiatus after this chapter? Seriously though, I want to apologize for how long it took for me to update, I did not intend for it to be this long - you know the song, school just got a bit much and then there was a block and- yeah. But I have time to write now, and I'm pretty sure I've chipped the block away. I just want to thank literally all of you who still hung around during this time. The reviews I got while I was away were all lovely, and I truly truly do love and appreciate y'all.

So, as always, a welcome to the new favs'/folllowers, and a shout out to my bros that have been here for a hot minute, those who have been here from the beginning. I can't promise I won't take another million years to update, but I'll try my best to be quicker this time around, especially since things are picking up.

(If there are any glaring problems in sentence level stuff pls let me know I've had this since like January and I barely see red squigglies in it anymore)

Stay schway boo-boos!

Translations
cuss words. Its just. a very angry Mexican girl swearing.