Author's Note: Wow, it's been awhile... Thanks to everyone who's sticking with this story. I really don't want to leave you hanging and am going to do my best to finish it so hopefully, you can bear with me. Anyway, here's my latest chapter. Enjoy! :)

Dean didn't know how he ended up squished into the passenger seat of the beat-up Jeep, yet somehow the keys to his baby were passed to his brother and he was forced to ride shotgun in Stiles' excuse of a vehicle. Dean honestly had no idea how the Jeep was still running with the noises coming out from under the hood. Yet on they drove. If only he had said something earlier...

"I think we should split up," Sam suggested. "One group would go question Mr Hale, and the other head back to the Reserve where Scott and Stiles saw the Omega."

"I agree," said Scott. "If it's all right with you guys I'd rather avoid any kind of contact with Peter... we have a... history."

Scott rubbed his side subconsciously.

"I'm with Scott on that one." Lydia chimed in. "Plus I might be more useful to the search, with my..." She waved her hand in the air searching for the right word. "Banshee…thing..."

"Sounds good," Sam said. "I can go with you guys and Dean can go with Stiles and Malia?"

"Uh... well-" Dean started.

"Wait what about me?" Liam asked defensively. Stiles turned to the younger boy.

"You're going to go home and study for that Math test tomorrow."

Liam just frowned and muttered to himself.

"I hate Math."

"Same" Malia mouthed back.

And with that, they were on the road. Dean didn't even have time to protest. Now they were rumbling along through the streets of Beacon Hills and as they drove along Dean could feel a pair of eyes drilling a hole into the back of his head. He checked the rearview mirror to confirm his suspicion and sure enough the young girl, Malia, was staring daggers at him. Before he could say anything Stiles cleared his throat.

"So uh… Dean…or Mr Winchester…" he started awkwardly.

"Please, call me Dean." Dean said. He did not like the sound of "Mr Winchester". It made him feel old. Shit… maybe Sam was right, maybe he was getting old.

"Right." Stiles continued "You and your brother have been hunting the supernatural for a while now, hunh?"

"Yeah… Our dad trained us when we were young." Dean said, "I have to say, in all my hunting experience I've yet to run into a were-coyote…"

"Well, aren't you lucky." Malia growled.

That ended the conversation pretty quickly.

Finally, they arrived at the address and the three of them climbed out of the jeep.

"Peter Hale… So this is the creep turning kids into werewolves?" Dean asked snidely, "And he lives in a Condo?"

"Well he used to live in a burned down house, but I guess it got a little too drafty." Stiles replied

With that, he punched the doorbell.

Less than a minute later, the door opened.

"Well, well, well… who do we have here…?" Peter said, "What mess do you need me to get you out of this time?"

"Your own." Malia replied. "We know you turned that kid Peter, tell us who it is?"

"What kid? I didn't turn anybody!" Peter snapped back. He looked at Stiles "Well except for your little friend Scott, although he seems to have gotten the better deal in the long run."

"Cut the crap Peter." Stiles said.

"What crap? I'm telling you, you're barking up the wrong tree here."

Malia looked at Stiles, asking him with her eyes what to do next. Dean couldn't get a word in before the lone wolf continued.

"Why is it whenever anything goes wrong with your little gang you're always blaming me? Haven't I done enough for you kids? I think you've forgotten Stiles, you'd still be possessed by a homicidal Japanese demon if it weren't for me."

Stiles looked down ashamed and Malia growled. He struck a nerve, even Dean could tell.

"Alright douchebag listen up," Dean stepped in front of the kids, "There's an Omega out there killing people because the son of a bitch who turned him didn't take responsibility for his own actions. Considering your past and the fact that you're the only other lone wolf in town, I'd say we have every right to believe it was you. So either you own up to it or tell us who will, because I'm not buying this bullshit. We all know that somehow, in some way, you are involved."

Peter glared at Dean for a moment then sighed.

"Fine. I'll tell you what I know." Peter said. "But afterwards you and you're pack need to leave me alone."

The Impala raced down the highway, scattering loose pebbles of asphalt into the ditch as it went by.

"This is a pretty sweet car." Scott said from the back seat.

"Thanks," Sam said, "Dean takes really good care of it… Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you: Don't touch anything."

Lydia, who had been previously checking her makeup in the front visor mirror, folded it back up gently.

"So Lydia… you're a Banshee right." Sam asked.

"I am."

"So what exactly does that mean?"

"Not entirely sure, but basically I can sense when someone's going to die." she replied nonchalantly.

"Fun." Sam said.

"It's this turn right here!" Scott piped up from the back.

When they got to the entrance of the Reserve they soon realized they weren't the only ones there. A half a dozen squad cars lined the tree line and there were officers crowding a clearing a few yards into the forest.

"Shit." Scott said, "So, this wasn't in the plan."

"It's alright, I've got my badge." Sam said, "I can try and talk to the Sheriff again and see what-"

"No offence Sam," Lydia cut in, "But I think we'd have better luck with the Sheriff… we have more of a history."

Sam did his best not to sound taken aback.

"Oh… Uh yeah, yeah no problem. I'll just, uh… wait in the car, I guess."

Scott and Lydia climbed out of the car and headed towards the clearing. They didn't even reach the police tape when Sheriff Stilinski saw them and hung his head. He left the group of officers he was talking to and headed in the teenagers' direction.

"So… what am I dealing with here…" He asked as he ducked under the police tape. "A were-fox or a were… bear o-or some other crazy thing?"

"No, no those don't exist." Scott replied. "At least I don't think they do…"

"An Omega, sir." Lydia said "But… maybe we should talk more privately…" She nodded her head towards the Impala, where Sam, sitting up against the hood, waved slightly.

"Isn't that one of those agents who-" Stilinski started.

"Yeah." Scott cut in. "Funny story…"

"So…" Stilinski said, staring at Sam, "You guys are hunters… like the Argents?"

"The name sounds familiar…" Sam said.

"That's not the point," Scott cut in. "The point is there's a kid out there who doesn't know how to control their powers and they're hurting people."

"Wait… are you sure they're a kid?" Stilinski asked. Scott rubbed his neck.

"I-I think so, I mean I never really got a good look…"

"Because that person over there," Stilinski pointed to the body in the clearing, covered with a sheet. "He's a kid. And I've been trying to figure out a way to explain his claws and fangs to the coroner!"

"What?" Lydia asked, shocked.

"Do you mean… that's our Omega?" Sam asked.

"This just got a lot more complicated…" said Scott.