Seeing Angie outside of the diner is… a lot like running into your elementary school teachers outside of the classroom.

She lectures like a teacher, too.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demands, and I look at her in surprise. I never realized how long her hair is - her twists are always tied back at the diner. They're loose now, and hang to her waist. "Didn't your mom ever teach you not to talk to strangers?"

Annoyance flairs in my chest. "No."

She eyes me, and I sink in to my seat, crossing my arms. A small cloth bag hangs from her rearview mirror, and there's a simple symbol on it - it's very Earthbound. I glance over at her, and notice bangles on her wrists, and despite the still cold weather, she's in a sleeveless shirt. A golden armband circles her right arm.

Never figured her to be into that stuff.

Angie shakes her head with a huff. "All these people are getting killed in this town, and you're out running by yourself." She comes to a stop sign. "Where's your boyfriend? Couldn't get him to come with you?"

I choke on air. "My-I don't-" I take a breath and clench my hands into fists. Fucking Derek. "We aren't dating."

She pulls her head back before driving forward again. "Fooled me."

"And even if we were, he-" I cut myself off; just because she's my favorite waitress, I think spilling the supernatural beans is a bit of a no-go. She's looking at me; I can feel her gaze, and I know she wants me to continue. "He did something stupid. And." I pick at my nails, finally daring to put to words how I feel. "And I don't know if I can trust his decision."

Angie's quiet for a moment. "His decision, or him?"

I scowl, not wanting to think about the difference. "I dunno - when did you become Dr. Phil anyway? Why do you care?" I demand. "Why did you even pick me up? I was fine."

She looks at me, fully turning her head and shoulder, to level me with a dark look. "You were not fine," she says with such conviction, it sends chills up my arms. "That man…" her lips curl up into a snarl as she turns back to the road. She mutters something, and I think I catch the word "burn" in there.

"Did… do you know that guy?" I ask hesitantly, unable to stop myself from glancing back even though we're too far to see the park. She huffs.

"Nevermind that. What'd your boy do that's so bad, huh?"

I hesitate. "He's… he's hiding something, I think."

"You think, or you know?"

"I know." I glare out the windshield. "He thinks he's protecting me - like keeping me in the dark will keep me safe. Well who the hell is supposed to keep him safe from making shitty decisions!"

Angie arches a brow. "You're not his mother. Let him learn from his mistakes."

"There's no learning from these mistakes! Only death!"

"I think you're exaggerating."

I don't answer, because honestly. How am I supposed to say, oh hey, my idiot werewolf is gonna try and take out a murderous alpha werewolf with my little cousin and there's nothing I can do to help because they won't let me.

Angie sighs. "Have you actually talked to him about it, then?" I duck my head. "Honey, you can't go complaining about something if you haven't confronted him about it yet!" She says in exasperation. "If it's got you so worried, you can't just avoid it."

"I like avoiding things. Avoiding things is good. Avoiding things makes them not real."

"Avoiding things causes more trouble than it's worth." Her voice drops as she says that, and the tone is melancholic. Sad. I look at her, and there's a wistfulness in her expression. She takes a breath. "Nevermind that. Where am I turning?"

"Hudson Avenue," I say. We fall into a silence, the static of her radio struggling to get a station too far away being the only thing to fill the void.

"What if…" I start, looking down at my lap. "What if I don't… I don't want to have to do anything?" My voice catches in my throat as I let myself say what I had been thinking. "What if it's easier to just - just let things happen on their own." I look at her. "Is that selfish? If I don't try and fix it?"

She takes a second to answer, and it makes my stomach twist. "No, it doesn't make you selfish," she says, her voice soft. "If you're scared-"

"I'm not scared-"

She levels me with a look before going on. "If you're scared, if you don't think things will work out, you do what you have to do to keep yourself safe."

"Even if other people can get hurt?"

"You do what you have to do to keep yourself safe," she repeats. "But you ask yourself if you're willing to deal with what comes with that." She pauses. "With what you'll lose. With what will change." She shakes her head, pulling herself out of a memory. "It's your choice."

Right. It's my choice.

"Which way from here?" she asks, slowing to a stop at the last stop sign before getting into the busier part of town. I look around, noticing that I'm not more than three blocks from Mason street. From where Derek is staying.

"Would you judge me harshly if I asked you to just let me out here?" I ask, wincing at the look she gives me. "I just. I wanna finish my run."

She looks unimpressed, and like she knows I'm talking bullshit. "Please tell me you at least have something to protect yourself with. Do you have a phone with you?"

I wrestle my phone out of one jacket pocket, and my keys - pepper spray included - out of the other. "I'm good."

Her expression is unsure, only for a split second, before she nods. "Stay out of trouble," she says, and just so it doesn't turn into too much of a chick flick moment, adds, "You're one of my best tippers. Can't go losing your business."

I bite back a laugh as I get out. "Thank you," I tell her. "For picking me up and… and talking to me."

"Don't expect any discounts. And make sure to get home before it gets too dark."

I step back as she pulls away. A gust of cold air pulls at my jacket, and I look up. The overcast has darkened the sky faster than usual, even for a winter afternoon. I tug my sleeves over my hands, slipping my thumbs through the holes, and bounce twice before making my way toward Mason.

It occurs to me, as I slow to a stop in front of Derek's empty parking spot, that I should probably stop acting like a novela character's whose life is gonna work out for plot reasons. I huff - in both annoyance and in an attempt to regulate my breathing - and place my hands on my hips as I look around.

Yup. Camaro is definitely not here. If I was Angelique Boyer, I'd run into Derek right as he was leaving. But since I'm just Ares Delgado - stupid, stupid Ares Delgado - I missed him.

Where the hell would he be anyway?

I walk to the sidewalk as I pull my phone out, and after a moment's thought, press the power on. It takes a bit to power up, and I take the time to do light stretches. This is the most I've ran since before Friday, and I don't have guess how much I'm gonna hurt in the morning. Maybe I can get Stiles to take me home. Minimize the damage.

I pause mid stretch, caught by a thought. A flash of a memory. Derek, before he was my Derek. "It's home," he had said of the burnt out Hale House the second time I saw him. Home.

"He wouldn't…."

Would he?

I look down at the time. From where I am, it'd take more than thirty minutes just to get to the Preserve parking lot, not including actually venturing into the Preserve to the house. It'd be dark by then, actually dark, the kind of dark stupid horror movie characters go running in before getting killed by a monster from the depths of nosleep.

But there's a pull in my gut, something I've learned never to ignore, telling me I have to go. Never mind if he isn't actually there.

I send off a message to Scott and Melissa, assuring them I'm just off on a run and to not worry before shoving my phone back away and taking a breath.

I didn't take six years of track just to flake out on a little run.

There's a reason they tell you not to go into the Preserve after dark - that reason being that roots come alive Evil Dead style and make it damn near impossible to get anywhere without snapping an ankle. But the trails are relatively safe, slippery leaves and loose dirt aside, and I make it to the clearing of the Hale House with minor external damage. My lungs, however, hate me.

Night has fallen, and the waning moonlight falls on the Hale House and shines off the Camaro, which is parked a ways off the road. Low voices float from inside the house, and they swell in volume and emotion as I near. An argument?

The voices cut off as I make it to the front of the house, and almost immediately following, the front door swings open. Derek Hale stands there, and I blink up at him, at a loss for words.

A flurry of emotions cross his face, too fast and conflicted for me to pinpoint. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out - what am I supposed to say? Why haven't you checked on me? Why are you hiding things from me? What happened last night?

He's the one that breaks our silence, and his words leave me with a sinking feeling in my stomach. "You need to leave."

"Der-"

"You shouldn't be here," he continues, his voice hard, not sounding at all like my Derek. I swallow hard and shove down the feelings of betrayal that comes from his words.

"I'm not leaving," I tell him, starting up the stairs, and he makes no move to stop me. "Not until I know what's going on." He clenches his jaw and looks away. There's a faint sound from behind him, someone moving around inside, and I furrow my brows in confusion. "Who's here? Is Scott here?"

"No, Ares-"

Derek catches my arm as I try to dart around him to the door, his grip firm but not bruising, and I draw back to glare at him. "What did I say about manhandling me?" I demand, and he lets out a growl, but doesn't stop me from jerking away from him. I step in, and Derek follows close behind, not saying a word as I lift my phone, flashlight app still on from my run, and shine it in a wide eyed Jackson's face.

Which. Is not what I expected. He lifts his hand to shield his face, scowling, and I lower the light.

"What the hell," he exclaims, voice trembling, and he throws an arm out at me. " I thought Scott said she wasn't like you!"

I frown, because what? When did that ever come up in a conversation? Derek steps past me, putting himself between me and Jackson, and the boy stumbles back in fear. "She isn't part of this," he snarls, and even in the little light my phone provides, I can see how his face drains of color.

"Look, man, is this about what I said to Scott?" Derek cocks his head to the side, and Jackson goes on. "I'm sorry, okay, I didn't - I didn't mean it! I won't tell the Argents she's like you, I promise-"

"What." Derek's voice takes a deadly quality, a growl not unlike the one I heard from him when he stopped Scott during his full moon mind control murder attempt. I grab Derek's arm as he takes a step toward Jackson, because while I may not have any idea what the fuck is going on, I do know I don't want to have Jackson's death on Derek's hands.

"Derek, stop!" He doesn't look down at me, but doesn't advance on Jackson. "What the shit are you even doing here?" I demand, looking at Jackson, who looks quite ready to piss himself. Derek's arm tenses beneath his jacket, and Jackson looks between us. He seems to gain confidence when he realizes that Derek won't do anything to him while I'm here.

"You're fucking boyfriend lied to me! He said I'd get the bite, just like Scott!" He voice shakes, and he sounds equal parts terrified and spoiled child. I look up at Derek, my hand falling from his arm as I process what Jackson just said. Only the alpha can give a bite.

"Derek." He doesn't acknowledge his name. I press on. "Is the Alpha coming?"

He's still for a second.

"No," he answers, and Jackson deflates. "No, he's not." He. Gendered pronoun. Personal and known.

"Why is Jackson here then?"

He doesn't speak, and it's Jackson that breaks the silence. He gives a panicked laugh that borders a sob. "You're gonna fucking kill me, aren't you?" I stare up at Derek, willing him say something, anything.

He's silent, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Go," I say, and it comes strangled and quiet.

"Wh-"

I look to Jackson. "Go. And don't say a fucking thing to anyone."

He doesn't need to be told again, running to the destroyed and open back of the house rather than risk trying to pass us.

Derek stares after Jackson's retreating form, before looking back at me, expression stony and stance rigid. He shifts, and something in his expression cracks when I move away from him. My hand shakes as I clutch my phone to my chest, the light from the flashlight half obscured.

"Ares-"

"Were you going to kill him?"

Derek looks away.

My breath rushes out of my lungs, and a barrage of emotions - disgust, outrage, disappointment, fear - bubbles in my chest. Derek's head snaps up, and his eyes are wide, as though he realizes.

"Are you," I start, voice low and catching. "Fucking. Kidding. Me."

He takes a step toward me, hand outreached. "Ares-"

"No me toques!" I slap his hand away, unable to bear the thought of his touch, and he jerks away as though burned. "Maldito," I spit, all my fear and uncertainty from before burning away into anger. "Qué tienes, eh? He's a fucking kid, Derek, what the - what the actual fuck?!"

"I wasn't going to kill him!"

"Oh, no, just maim him a bit, huh?" I turn away from him, tugging at my hair and falling into a frantic pace. My mind spins, thoughts churning and slamming into each other, making it impossible to make sense of anything. "I have had the most absolute shitty day - I woke up with bruises, I keep seeing shit when I close my eyes, I'm been fucking. Scared. All day. I can't remember ANYTHING!" I stop short and look up at Derek, and he just stands there, but distorted, like my eyes can't focus. "And you're hiding something from me. You and Scott and - and - I get here - and you're with Jackson- and Jesus, I just want to know what happened!"

I stop in front of Derek, chest heaving, eyes blurred with tears and a lump burning my throat. And it isn't about Jackson - I mean, it is, it's very much about the fact that Derek may have brought the kid here to hurt him. But. It's not about that.

"I just. Want to know what happened," I repeat, voice shaking. "And how to - how to make things better, to fix it!"

"You can't fix it-"

I throw my arms out in frustration, letting out a strangled cry. "Why not?!"

"Because I have to fix it!" he says, voice rising. "It isn't yours to fix, Ares-"

"Dios mio, Derek, you don't have to do this alone!" I shout, frustration seeping into my voice, because how many times do I have to beat this into the heads of werewolves? "I'm a part of this too, okay, whether you like it or not! Stop fucking pushing me away and hiding-"

"I'm trying to protect you!"

"By hurting Jackson?!"

"By doing what the Alpha tells me!" I draw back in shock, letting his revelation process. "By getting close enough to him so I can kill him, so I can fix this, so you don't have to be dragged in anymore, so I can keep you safe!" He drags his hands through his hair in desperation. "But I can't even do that!" He goes on. "I can't - I can't keep the Argents away from you, I can't keep Scott away from you, I can't keep the Alpha away from you! I can't, Ares, not the way I am now!" He gestures to himself. "Not as a Beta, as an omega -" He spits the last word out with such disdain, such vehemence, as though it's the worst thing a wolf can be.

"Jesus, Derek…" I close my eyes and shake my head. What the fuck did he get himself into? "You don't - Just. Let me help-"

"I can't!" He takes a step forward, gesturing to the house around us. "I've lost everything, Ares! My family, my home - everything I loved and cared for is gone. I can't-" His voice catches. "I can't lose you."

The air rushes out of my lungs as I stare up at him. He inhales sharply, eyes going wide as though realizing what he just said.

"Ares!" Scott's panicked voice echoes through the house, coming from somewhere in the back. Derek lets out a frustrated growl, eyes flashing blue, snarl marring his features. "Ares-!" Scott's form comes running out a darkened hallway, and he skids to a stop in front of us. His eyes bleed gold, and he takes a step forward when he sees how Derek has moved, putting himself between us.

It doesn't take a psychic to know some shit is about to go down.

"Ares, get away from him," Scott says, and despite the growl in his voice - or maybe because of it - his tone is so reminiscent of Aaron's, I find myself taking a couple steps to the side in compliance before I realize what I'm doing. "Ares!"

"Okay, okay, can we maybe - chill? For a second?" I say, ignoring the betrayed look Scott shoots me when I move back towards Derek. I reach out and touch Derek's arm, and he glances back at me, still tense, still with glowstick eyes. "And put away the glowy murder eyes?" I look at Scott. "Both of you?"

Because I just stopped one murder - or a maiming, I don't really know and Derek and I are going to be having a conversation -and I'm not looking to deal with another.

"He's with the alpha now!" Scott snaps. "He's going to kill Jackso-" he looks around suddenly, and even in the darkness it's easy to see how his face loses color. "Where's Jackson?"

"He left," Derek says, voice tight.

"Alive!" I add. "And fine, aside from his pride - look can you just not do this?" I move around Derek, not letting go of his arm, and Scott's shoulders lower once I've placed myself between them. "I don't know what the fuck is going on with you two, but whatever it is -"

They both shift, looking to the door a split second before Derek grabs me around the waist and yanks me back.

"Cover your eyes!"

Derek pulls me with him as he falls to the side, keeping me from actually landing hard while somehow angling himself in such a way to act as a shield against what comes next.

Glass shattering, a loud blast, a flash of white.

Gunshots.

Oh. Oh GOD. Someone's shooting at us. With guns and bullets and SHIT. shitshitshitshitshit-

There's a wall at my back, a body against my side, arms holding me close. The sharp, deafening cracks of gunshots continue, and I press my hands over my ears in panic, squeezing my eyes shut and willing it to just stop.

I can't fucking. I can't die here.

I don't want to die here.

A hand cradles my cheek, and I open my eyes to see Derek crowding in close, his lips moving as he says something. Behind him, bullets keep hitting the stairs. He pulls my face back to look at him, and when he pulls one of my hands away from my ears, I let him.

"You need to get out of here," he says, and I shake my head in panic, clamping my hand back over my ear. Derek catches my wrist, firmly, and pulls it away. "Scott was hit, and he needs you right now."

I look past Derek, and there. Behind him. Scotty, stumbling away towards the back. Something dark drips, trailing behind him.

The sound that comes out of mouth is not human.

"SCOTT!" I leap past Derek, launching myself after Scotty, only to be dragged back down.

"Ares, stay down!" Derek snarls, and I claw at his grip on me. "Listen to me!" He growls, and if it weren't for the fact we're literally about to die, I'd slap the shit out of him for how he shakes me. "Stay down. Get him out through the back." He spares a glance to the foyer. "They won't follow."

I stare at him, noting how he didn't make a single mention of his own escape.

"You're coming, right?" He doesn't answer, instead keeping his eyes on the door and shifting his position to better jump up. He doesn't face the back like me. "Derek!" I grab a fistful of his jacket, tugging on it to get his attention.

"Go!" He pulls away, tearing away from my grip.

"But-"

"Ares, Scott needs you. He needs his Alpha, his real alpha-"

"I'm not, though, I'm can't do this!" Hot tears spill over, and my voice hitches in my panic. How many times do I have to say it? That I'm not an Alpha, I'm just. Ares. Stupid, overwhelmed, can't mind her own business Ares.

"You are! An Alpha takes care of their pack, keeps them safe, protects what's theirs. Scott is yours. You need to go!" He shoves a hand out, meaning to push me away, but I grab it, not letting go.

"You're mine too!"

He goes still, and in the darkness, his expression shifts, softening for just a split second, and for that split second I imagine him running with me. But his eyes harden. He rips away from my grip and pushes me back away from him.

"GO." I scramble back away from him, his eyes burning bright blue, face twisted into a snarl. He stands and closes his eyes. "Please."

I turn and run.

What's good y'all. Just a heads up, I honestly do not know when the next update will be. I know we all know I'm pretty crap at keeping to a proper uploading schedule, but I figure it'd be good to give you a warning. I'm gonna have a lot going on this upcoming semester (the final semester woooo!) I have ch 38 mostly done, so I'll get that out at some point, but if I disappear until, like, December (which I don't plan on doing but you never know), just know I will be coming back

That's out of the way. Thank you so much for the reviews! And of course, welcome to new favs/followers, as well as my dudes that have been here forever. We've come so far, haven't we? Let me know what you thought of the chapter!

Stay schway, my dudes

translations
No me toques! - don't touch me
Maldito - damned, cursed
Qué tienes - literally, what do you have, but really like, what's your problem/what's wrong with you?