Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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Stiles fell into hunting when she was small. There wasn’t some existential crisis, nor did something terrible happen to a member of her family. She was happy, well... relatively happy. The fact that her mom died three years before bore no weight on her decision to start hunting. Her dad was reluctant to say the least, but she obliged; she stayed home until she was 16, studied hard, trained hard, learned anything and everything could and when she got her permit, she left, graduating High School a full two years early. A certifiable genius, she figured she’d have time for college when she stopped hunting.

And if hunting stopped her in the mean time? Well... something’s just weren’t meant to be, were they?

That had been 10 years ago.

She never lost touch with her dad, calling him frequently, updating him on all her hunts, both wins and losses. The losses hit her hard, especially when it was people she’d grown attached to, kids, mothers, that were the victims. She soon got a rep in the hunter community. Many tried to ‘take her under their wing’, ‘show her the ropes’, be a gentle old soul to guide, mould, corrupt and poison with hate and disgust for all things Supernatural. She didn’t buy into that crap though 95% of hunters did. They had their code, not that many stuck to the damn thing, and she had hers.

Her mantra of ‘hunt those that live to hunt us’ didn’t make for much pre-emptive movements. She was always too late for one victim, two... sometimes more. All hunters were; there wasn’t much you could do by way of taking down a piece of scum hell bent on killing children in their beds when you’ve no idea they’re even planning anything.

That’s not to say she hadn’t done any good in her time, she remembered every single life she saved directly, a few indirectly. She has each and every name, date, kill in her journals. It warmed her up on the cold nights, to think of all the good she’s done, especially after a hard loss. Kept her focussed, kept her on the ball.

She met decent hunters out there of course, some gave her good advice (Get out while you’re young; you’ve done a lot of good, go on a high), they traded stories, traded secrets, ways to kill certain things, warnings about peaceful members of the supernatural and reasons for their existence. She keeps a lot of that information close to her chest though, only those she knows actually had a heart got that info, and if they didn’t, the supernatural beings she protected got a fair warning.

The first time she meets a vampire, she cocks her head to the side, make’s a ‘so-so’ gesture with her hand and her face before locking herself, and it, in a twenty minute tooth and knife fight that she eventually won. She turned to the hunter who’d been watching from the end of the alley and gave a sweeping bow before turning and walking away, pulling up her red hood.

The red hood became a bit of a thing. It made her laugh - made her dad laugh too, which was always a bonus. She doesn’t wear it every day, but often enough to be known for it; to give them something to look out for. Of course, she learned to keep it under wraps, hide it under a black hood or something similar, but it’s almost always there.

The first time someone calls her Little Red without being prompted, she looked up and straight at mirror behind the bar she’d been propping up, nursing a beer. The dive wasn’t great, but the bottles were clean and the ladies room had toilet paper and soap so she wasn’t complaining. The guy asked about the hood, said he’d heard the stories, wondered if they were true... wondered if a little slip of a thing like her could do the things they say she’d done. Didn’t think it was possible... He continued to talk until she finished her beer, paid for it and jumped down from the stool. The guy who’d been talking caught her arm, stopping her retreat. He asked her outright if she’d gone up against a wolf and her lips twitched, the scar on her left cheek twitching right along with it, almost pointedly.

Her eyes were on the hand that still held her arm and she didn’t move, didn’t waver, didn’t answer until eventually, he let the arm go. She then tipped her head up and met his eyes. She didn’t say a word but he backed away under her gaze, seeming to regret his deepest darkest life choices. She had rolled her eyes and left the dive bar, bumping fists with a few familiar faces on her way out.

She had met a wolf before, their entire world knew it. It’s where she got the scar; it’s where she got many scars. That one hunt. The hunt that put her out for a month, that knocked her down for six, that almost sent her home.

Almost.

She was a tough cookie. She pulled through, obviously, but even though she’d taken out each and every guilty beta who had hurt her or had tried to hurt her thereafter, the alpha had escaped. After making her a plaything for a night, he vanished. The power the alpha had over her betas diminished when she wasn’t there to enforce it, and they got sloppy.

The alpha bitch had called her Little Red completely ironically. It amused Stiles if she were honest. Because, for all she hunted and for all she worked the Little Red name, it was originally, incredibly unironic.

Her hair had red hues in the summer when she grew it out long enough to catch enough of the light.

Simple really.

--- - - - ---

Her Life...

“Stiles?” she listened to her voicemail and frowned. “I hope this is the right number, he - he told me to call if anything ever happened. Stiles, my name is Deputy Parish and I’m with the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department. I need you to call me back on this number as soon as you get this mess-”

She ended the call and dialled the number, already throwing her things into a duffle bag. The ringing stopped after third when she grabbed her toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash from the grimy old bathroom in the crappy motel.

“Beacon Hill’s Sheriff’s Station, Deputy Parish speaking.”

“You called me a few hours ago,” Stiles said simply, moving around, picking up protection amulets, trinkets, safety pouches, In-Case-of-Emergency bags and had a mixture of salt and mountain ash in them.

“May I ask who is speaking?” The deputy asked and she rolled her eyes.

“Stiles,” she ground out, throwing the bag of dirty laundry in the duffle too, grimacing at the thought of not being able to clean them for a good 10 hours now.

“Miss Stilinski!” Parish breathed, relieved. “It’s good to hear from you. Your father told me-”

“Cut to the chase, Deputy. I’m a busy woman. What’s wrong with my father?” she snapped and heard the man flounder - didn’t smirk when she heard a few chuckles in the background. “You’re new,” she surmised, snorting. “Get on with it then,” back to snapping and he cleared his throat.

“Uh.. yes, I am new. First mon-” ‘She’s likely to gut you if you don’t stay on topic Parish!’ Stiles heard someone shout in the background and recognising the voice, her lips curved upwards in a fond smile.

“Deputy, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong with my father in the next 20 seconds, when I get back to Beacon Hills, I’m going to wring your neck, got it?” her tone was conversational, almost sweet, definitely light, and she heard distinct gulping noises along with background laughter noises.

“Your father was attacked while on a routine patrol; he’s been admitted into BHH, is currently in the ICU after major abdominal surgery.” He rattled off some facts about the injuries until there wasn’t anything else left to say and the line went silent - or as silent as the bullpen could get.

“Now, was that so difficult?” She asked and hung up, slamming the door behind her, locking it and going to check out.

Her life!

--- - - - ---

Google maps told her the journey would take 10 hours on the i-roads. 11.5 on the back roads. Either way, the State Police had speed traps up and down the country; laws would have to remain unbroken. It still only ended up taking her 9 hours and when she pulled up to the hospital in Beacon Hills, she was dog tired. She was so tired she wasn’t even bothered about having to remove all her metal weaponry. She kept a few non-metal blades/sticks on her in various places so she didn’t feel completely naked but if she were honest, she was just too tired to care.

Walking into the hospital, she sensed them immediately. The itch along her scar, the niggle at the back of her mind, the tingling through the tattoos on her skin... they all told her the supernatural was nearby - more specifically, wolves. When she calmly walked up to the reception desk, she was half thankful the woman sat behind it was on the phone, holding up a finger for Stiles to wait. She smiled, nodding her head, and casually turned to survey the waiting area. Her hood was up, giving her a little privacy and anonymity - which would last as long as it took her to ask after her dad. As she looked, she saw a group of... what could only be described as kids, sat waiting. High school kids at best. Almost all of them were staring at her, frowning, confusion on their face, obviously trying to get through the glamour she’s sewn into the hem of her hood.

“Sorry about that, dear,” the receptionist/nurse person smiled, putting down the phone. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to see the Sheriff?” Stiles smiled as the woman froze, her own smile dropping. Stiles pulled her driving licence out and handed it over. “Please?” The woman looked down at the licence, and the name on it and her eyes widened, gasping before quickly nodding. She made a quick call and handed Stiles the licence back.

“Alright dear, go up to the fifth floor, Head Nurse McCall-Stilinski will meet you there.” Stiles’ eyebrow rose at the name and the woman froze again, paling.

“Thank you,” Stiles said. “You’ve been very helpful.” Giving one last look at the waiting area, the inhabitants of which were now trying to glare a hole through her glamour, she walked in the opposite direction towards the elevator.

“Scott McCall!” the receptionist snapped. “Your mother told you all to remain here!”

The elevator doors opened and Stiles’ lips started curling upwards again as the man stood on board stepped forward to get off, not even looking up at her. She moved to let him passed and stepped on. Clearing her throat, she watched him stop and spin around just in time to see the doors close. His face was full of shock and no small amount of fear. Amateurs, she thought to herself with irritation.

The ride up was short and when she stepped off, a familiar nurse was stood waiting in purpose scrubs. Stiles, for the first time since she entered Beacon Hills, pulled down her hood.

“Little Red,” the nurse sighed, stepping up to Stiles and wrapping her in a hug, almost as tight as she remembered them to be years ago. Stiles returned the hug with appreciation and the sheer need to have someone to hold.

“How’s he doing, Melissa?” Stiles asked, pulling away. Melissa bit her lip but didn’t look completely down so Stiles figured it was at least positive news. She was lead down the corridor to a room at the end that had two patrol officers stood outside, on guard.

“Better than he was,” Melissa sighed. “He went into surgery straight away, they cleaned him up, repaired the internal damage and closed him. He’s going to have a belter of a scar but he’ll be alive so I don’t much care about anything else.” They reached the officers and Stiles gave them both a frown.

“Either of you Parish?” she asked and they paled, shaking their heads a negative. Beside her, Melissa chuckled, shaking her head.

“He would tell you to stop torturing his deputies,” the woman rested her hand on the small of Stiles’ back and gestured for her to go inside the room. Stiles, however, shook her head.

“I’m not clean,” she said, face set.

“Sweetheart, he’s wrapped up tight. Nothing’s getting in. There’s hand gel by the door...” It took a few minutes persuading but eventually Stiles went in, hands gloved up, facemask on. She wanted the full kit but Melissa said it wasn’t necessary. “Would you like to be left alone for a few minutes?” Melissa asked and Stiles nodded, biting her lip.

“You might wanna give that receptionist a ring... I may have insinuated I had no idea you took the name Stilinski. She’s probably having a heart attack right now.” She heard Melissa choke on a wet laugh and left. “What the hell did you get yourself into this time, old man?” Stiles muttered, running her hands over her father’s face, not touching, just hovering. It was bruised down the right side, he had an intubation tube in that helped him breathe though Stiles had been assured that it would be coming out soon. He looked like he’d gained an extra 10 inches around the waist with all the dressing they slapped on him after the surgery and the thought made her laugh.

She’d been on at him for years to eat more healthily. Melissa, bless her, had done her best but she didn’t have the spies Stiles had, which was fair enough. No one had the spies Stiles had.

She didn’t stay in there for long - she couldn’t. It hurt too much to see him so still and pale. Walking out, the door closed behind her and she bent over at the waist, breathing hard before her knees bent and she was crouching in the middle of the corridor, head bowed. She tore her face mask off and the gloves and after a minute, managed to calm herself down enough to throw them in the trash.

“Stiles?” Melissa was back and Stiles’ hood was back up. Melissa seemed worried, exasperated, a little scared and Stiles frowned at her.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked and watched her step mother bite her lip.

“What are you going to do for the rest of the night?” she asked. “Where are you going to stay?” Ah, Stiles thought. She knows. Stiles just sighed.

“Well I suppose going to my dad’s house is out,” the woman flushed, looking deeply troubled and apologetic but Stiles rolled her eyes. “I have an apartment in town, Mel, don’t worry. Puppy free zone. I’m trusting you to make sure it stays that way.” Melissa’s eyes widened at the remark, shocked and Stiles resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. “If I see one of them, after seeing that,” she pointed through the glass at her dad. “I won’t be held responsible for my actions,” her tone was low but expression set and Melissa finally nodded, a look of understanding washing over her face.

“I’m sorry Stiles-”

“Don’t apologise. It’s fine. Look, I’ll be by tomorrow okay? You look like you need some rest too. And you haven’t been driving for 9 hours straight.” Melissa broke at that, lips twitching and eventually chuckling, shaking her head. She shooed Stiles off, promising to leave soon and Stiles went with a wave and a pointed look at the two officers.

She took the elevator back down and walked out of the hospital, ignoring the waiting room, ignoring the security and ignoring the receptionist.

“Little Red,” she heard as she reached her car. The door opened but she just stood there, one foot inside, waiting. “What are you doing here?” the voice asked and she snorted.

“I’ve got a better question,” she said and turned around to stalk towards Chris Argent, who had been stood leaning against his truck. He seemed frozen on the spot as she approached and stopped breathing altogether when the tip of a ceramic blade scraped against the skin just under his chin. “Why did the famed Argent’s, Beacon Hills residents no less, sit idly by while something tore apart the Sheriff?” the knife dug in further, drawing blood. “Tell me, Chris, why you let my father almost die?” she snarled and he paled so quickly she thought he’d faint. He reached out blindly, grasping onto what little of his car he could get a purchase on. “Not got any answers for me?” she cocked her head to the side. “No? Do yourself a favour then. Keep yourself and that tiny insignificant speck of a pack away from my dad until I find out what did this. And I swear to whatever Gods you hold close to your old, shrivelled, little heart - if I find out any one of them had anything to do with it - if they had an inkling of what might happen... and you could’ve done something?” she pushed closer and the wound would definitely need stitches. “I’ll see you all burn.” She pushed away and got into her car without another word.

--- - - - ---

She wasn’t stupid - getting started the night she arrived would be idiotic and would probably cause more harm than good. She also reasoned that her emotional state wasn’t quite what it should be for the situation at hand, her confrontation with Chris Argent bring a prime example of that fact, so she went to her apartment and after an hour of fitfully trying to sleep, she eventually dropped off.

The sleep, as it stood, did her mental state the world of good. Her anger at the world from the night before dimmed somewhat and she figured her brash approach wouldn’t cut it this time. So already planning, her first port of call after coffee was her dad’s house.

“Hey Melissa,” she said into her phone as she got dressed. “I need to pick up a few things that dad kept a hold of for me. I know where they are, no one should’ve found them. Could I stop round? I’ll be in and out in two minutes.”

“Hey Stiles.. um.. yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll make sure you’re not...” she trailed off and Stiles chuckled.

“Bombarded with questions?” she laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Mel. I can hold my own against puppies. Just get them out of the living room. I’ll be there in ten.” Their goodbyes said, she turned the key in her ignition. Driving through town brought back memories for her; distant ones - uncomfortable ones. She didn’t particularly enjoy coming back to Beacon Hills and had often persuaded her dad to take a week off and visit her out of state for birthdays, holidays and the like. Beacon Hills reminded her not only of the things she’d lost, but the things she could gain and that didn’t sit well in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t finished her work yet, settling down wasn’t in her immediate future.

No matter what anyone said or did. Including her dad.

“Little Red?” there was a tapping on the window of her car door and she blinked, frowning when she realised she was already parked outside her dad’s house. Along with a damn car lot.

“What the hell is this?” she asked, stepping out of her own car. “Did he turn into a used car salesman and not tell anyone?” Melissa chuckled.

“They all belong to the kids,” she explained and Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“Kids,” she said slowly. “There’s more than one kid living here?”

“Well,” Melissa shifted, a little nervously, biting her lip. “There’s Scott, who you know, who’s mine. And then there’s Isaac Lahey - we took him in after...” she hesitated and Stiles frowned, waiting. “There was some less than stellar parenting going on and-” Stiles stopped her, holding a hand up and shaking her head.

“Stop,” she sighed. “Lahey, okay. I remember his dad being a grade-A douche way back when. Stands to reason it transferred to his home life. It sucks for the kid but he has you now, yeah?” Melissa smiled. “So,” she leaned back against her car, an air of nonchalance about her. “How many of the group that was in the foyer yesterday are of the supernatural ilk?” she asked, watching Melissa freeze and the door to her dad’s house slam open.

“Mom!” she heard a voice shout and Melissa shook her head, unsure what to do.

“I’m guessing your kid’s one of them...”

“Red,” Melissa laid her hands on Stiles’ upper arms, squeezing gently. “He trusts them all implicitly,” she said and Stiles could tell she believed she was telling the truth, so she listened. “He’s like pack to them, we both are. We’re pack and you know packs - family groups. They don’t hurt their own - Scott if you step off that porch you’re grounded until college!” she glared up at the house and Stiles’ lips twitched. “Isaac, you too! And the rest of you don’t test me today!”

“Super mom,” Stiles grinned and Melissa gave her a pointed look too. “What did I do?”

“Please,” Melissa went on without answering the question. “We’re a pack, okay? You know what that means.”

“I also know what it takes to put a man in the hospital with those same injuries,” Stiles commented and they stared at one another for a long, silent minute until Stiles sighed. “I’m not feeling very forgiving right now, Mel. Something hurt...” she paused and shook her head. “I’m not dealing with your pack. If they get in my way-”

“I know, they won’t. They want to know what happened to John as much as you do, I promise.” She hugged Stiles quickly and stepped back, gesturing to the house. “When John wakes up, he’s gonna wanna see at least Scott and Isaac,” she said as they walked towards the house, ignoring the large group of teenagers now stood on the porch, watching them openly.

“Well he and I will have a chat first... it’s nice that he never mentioned the fact that he’s thrown his end in with a pack of wolves. Makes a girl feel all warm and fuzzy, y’know,” Melissa rolled her eyes.

“You know why he didn’t tell you. He knew you’d react like this!”

“For good reason. No one non-human sees him until I’ve spoken with him-”

“Who the hell are you to decide something like that?!” Scott snapped and Stiles just ignored him, turning to walk inside the house. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” the kid leapt after her, grabbing her by the shoulder and pushing her into a wall. The force of the knock dislodged her hood and caused her head to snap against the drywall, rattling the picture frame above her head. She took a deep breath and calmed herself before attempting to continue on her way, only to be stopped again and pushed into the wall a second time.

“Scott!” Melissa shouted but Scott couldn’t answer. The hand gripping his throat squeezed and the kid was staring at Stiles like he knew he’d just put himself in deep water and had suddenly found himself surrounded by hungry sharks.

The gloves Stiles was wearing were special, made just for her. Runes had been etched into the leather, mountain ash used in the tanning process, silver in the stud-work, wolfsbane in the seams, dipped in holy water for added luck. A Russian gypsy had thanked her with them as a gift after she’d saved her family from a vengeful spirit haunting their camp and they were her favourite gloves, handy too - if you’ll pardon the pun. Right now, they were the only thing between herself and a very emotional beta wolf.

She stepped forward, still holding Scott and the kid stepped back. Turning, she moved so he was backing out of the house with each step and when he crossed the threshold, she released his neck and threw a punch to his jaw, sending him flying towards the porch steps with the force of it combined with the gloves. She turned to Melissa, who was staring at the scene, shock written all over her face.

“No one,” she ground out. “Sees him until I’ve spoken with him.” Melissa nodded and Stiles went back inside the house. She grabbed the box she’d hidden in the chimney years ago and went back outside where the pack were surrounding Scott.

“Red,” Melissa said from where she was knelt next to her bruised son. Stiles crossed the threshold and started to walk around the pack to leave. Then, almost as one, they seemed to move so they were blocking her exit path.

“Mel, I’m being very patient right now,” she said, laughing without humour.

“Red-”

“Everyone back off now,” a voice growled and the pack froze before quickly dispersing, leaving Stiles a clear view of someone she absolutely did not expect. She waited until she saw the eyes flash red before her expression turned hard.

“Nice eyes, last time I saw them they were in your sister.” She saw Derek barely hold back a flinch and frowned, surmising that he hadn’t taken the power from Laura, but wasn’t far off.

“Red,” Derek greeted with a nod.

“Alpha Hale,” she drawled, walking down the steps. “You grew up.”

“Six years will do that do you,” the other man replied. “What’re you doing here?”

“Got a call, did not expect you here though. New York not doing it for you?” His eyes creased at the corners and his lip twitched as he shook his head a negative.

“Too busy,” he said and looked up to where she knew Scott was still down. Hale raised an eyebrow at Stiles. “Your handiwork?”

“Your betas?” she retorted and he nodded. “Teach them a thing or two about the real world, big guy. You know, real hunters, real packs... start with the basics. Like... how respectful hunters can’t address a beta from a pack without first meeting the alpha. There’s a good lad,” she patted his chest as she passed him and walked to her car.

“Red,” Hale called out and she looked up after opening her car door. “Why are you here?” she snorted.

“Why does anyone come to a place they hate?”

And she drove away, leaving the betas to the tender mercies of their alpha.

--- - - - ---

“Good morning,” the officer sat behind the reception desk smiled at her, the smile wavering when she took in the scar on Stiles’ cheek. “What can I do for you today?”

“Hi, can you direct me to Deputy Parish, please?” her smile was sweet and the woman looked confused before nodding and looking over at the bullpen.

“Parish!” she called and the entire bullpen turned to look - only one looked ready to bolt. Bingo. She grinned. After thanking the woman, she calmly walked towards the deputy’s desk.

“Um... good morning, miss? Please, take a se-”

“No thank you. I won’t be here long. Now, tell me deputy, how long have you been working here?” the man gulped.

“A-about... a m-month?” he stuttered and she arched an eyebrow.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” a nearby detective snorted but she ignored the noise.

“A month!” he said quickly, more confidently.

“And I’m assuming to make it to deputy, you had to work as a beat cop for at least five years?” she asked and he shook his head.

“N-not really. I had two y-years in the arm-my bef-fore this position.”

“You don’t sound very confident in your reply,” she said easily, sitting on the corner of his desk. “Tell me, the Sheriff actually trusts you to handle this entire station in his absence?”

“Y-Yes ma’am!” Parish replied a little quicker.

“What does he eat for lunch every day?” she asked and he blinked at her.

“I’m not sure that’s any of your business ma’am,” he was gaining something close to a spine so she pressed on.

“Let’s try this... was he out alone when he was attacked?” he just stared, expression turning blank. She smirked. “That’s one I actually want an answer for, kid.”

“i’m afraid I can’t divulge the-”

“Answer the damn question Parish!” one of the detective shouted and Parish turned to glare at him.

“Back to his lunch habits; does he eat fast food? Does he bring a pack lunch? Does he stuff dollars in that vending machine? What?”

“Ma’am, I think you should lea-”

“I think you should answer my questions,” Stiles interrupted. “Anyone know what the Sheriff eats for lunch?” she asked the entire bullpen and she saw a few guilty faces. “Oh who do you think’s more dangerous? Me or the Sheriff?” she snapped at them all. “No more fast food! No more junk! Got it?” she glared as they all nodded their heads.

“You’re Stiles,” Parish sighed, dropping his head in his hands and she patted his hair gently.

“There there, you’ll get over it. Now, about my father...”

She left the sheriff’s station with fewer answers than she wanted but enough to go on for the moment. She sat in her car and read through the file Parish had been able to give her. Her dad had been out alone checking out the tip the station had received. The tip had been anonymous and even though the police’s version of ‘anonymous’ included recording the number, it had been a dead end. It was a payphone across the street from the incident and it had been cleaned. No cameras were functioning in the area as it was a low crime neighborhood so the local council had been prioritising manpower.

There had been other incidents like this - three in the last three weeks. The first two victims hadn’t survived their injuries, the third was in a coma. No witnesses were available for any of the attacks. The MO had had hits across state lines, but whatever it was, hit for a few weeks then disappeared for a year before popping up in another small town. No measurable pattern, nothing at all. She didn’t recognise any names but knew hunters in a few of the towns mentioned so pulled out her phone and connected it to the car’s Bluetooth before heading out of the police parking lot.

“Call Wesson,” she spoke at her phone and heard the dialling tone before the rings.

“This better be good, Red,” a voice grunted and she rolled her eyes.

“Got a thing, you remember a case about 5 years back in Montana, teenage sweethearts were mauled by what locals thought was a coyote or something?”

“I’ve only been in Montana for two years, Red. Don’t know anything that far back myself. I can make a few calls though; I knew the family that was here before me.”

“Thanks, Wessy,” she smiled at his groan. “Oh buck up, you love it.”

“Yeah yeah, like a hole in the head, Red. What’s got you on this anyway?”

“I caught something like it, the MO crossed state lines. Locals actually had a decent Sheriff on this-”

“Had?” Wesson prompted and she winced.

“Yeah,” she said, voice suddenly thick. “He’s in the ICU right now.” She was silent for a few seconds before clearing her throat in a rush to continue. “Alright, thanks Wessy. I appreciate it man.”

“Least I can do, Red. Take care of yourself.”

“You sound like my dad,” she laughed and said her goodbyes, waiting for him to hang up before she called her next contact.

She called three more hunters, only one of them could remember the hunt she was talking about and what she got wasn’t pretty - mostly because it was almost human.

“When I got to the first scene I lost my lunch,” the guy admitted and Stiles sighed, turning down a cul de sac and parking outside a large, well-to-do home. She didn’t get out of the car though, choosing to stay inside and continue the conversation.

“Abdomen torn open?” Stiles surmised and got an agreeing noise down the line.

“I’ve seen some nasty shit in my time, Little Red, but that takes the bacon. It was worse this time because the victim had been 7 months pregnant... the-” he paused, censoring himself. “-was just...” he stopped speaking and Stiles could hear deep breaths.

“I’m sorry to bring this up again,” she said, genuinely apologetic. “What about the actual hunt? What was it?”

“It was a rabid were,” the guy said and Stiles winced. “You’ve got the weres that can play happy families until they drop from good old, old age. They’re a peach in comparison. I caught the thing in the act, trying to tear out the innards of a college kid, shot it between the eyes, silver bullet. The kid didn’t make it but the killings stopped.”

“How old was the were?” she asked, frowning. “I mean, because the rabid weres go after the heart, right? It’d just be easy to punch through the sternum... but these are going through the abdomen and reaching up through all the soft tissue. Was the were young?” The line was quiet and she closed her eyes. “How young?” she asked, voice suddenly hoarse.

“Red, I... I make a point of never going after the young ones, y’know? I have kids. I know what it’s like to lose-- I just. I know, okay? I make a point to stay away, I can’t handle it.”

“Joe,” she said gently. “Your case was five years ago... I need to know if it’s possible there was more than one rabid at yours - and the other got away without you noticing... if that did happen, I gotta know how old the rabid were is.”

“The k-” he stopped himself. “It,” he said pointedly, forcefully. “It was about 13 or 14... Listen, Red, I’ve gotta go. Sorry I can’t be more help. Let me know if you gank the thing. Good luck.” The line went dead and Stiles stared at the steering wheel, hands gripping it tightly.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there but she was brought out of her head by a tapping on the window. Looking up she saw Argent staring down at her, a little wary and very guarded. The skin under his chin was dressed but it didn’t seem to be bothering him. She grabbed her phone and the file and opened her door.

“If you’re here to threaten me again I’d rather not have you do it where my neighbors would see.”

“Just want to see what information you had, if any,” she held her hands up and he sighed, gesturing her to follow him inside, which she was more than happy to do.

“My daughter tells me you made quite an impression at the Sheriff’s house this morning,” he lead her into his office where he already had files open and strewn all over his desk.

“Idiot betas trying to talk to me before I talk to their alpha,” she rolled her eyes. “Kid was asking to be knocked back.”

“They’re not much for etiquette this pack,” Chris chuckled. “Too young. Too brash.”

“Which is funny, because the last time I saw Laura Hale, she still ran by those rules - the same rules, as I’ve been told, her parents ran by. Anyway, I was raised old school. Propriety, a proper lady,” she nodded smartly, the smirk on her lips the only thing giving her away. He just rolled his eyes.

“Are you fishing for information on the Hale Pack?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“I know Laura and Derek from New York - though the last time I saw him he was a broody teenager with an attitude that led to Laura letting me kick his ass a time or two. Kid grew up well, still broody. I was just curious how it all happened.”

“You threatened to burn us all alive if we interfered with you...”

“I was emotional, I was grandstanding... my dad’s in a hospital bed with a hole in his chest the size of his chest and you expect me to be civil the first night I roll into town? I’m just happy it was you I ran into. If any of those kids had approached me last night I would’ve killed them. Of course, then I go and figure out that one of the little prats is my step brother,” she rolled her eyes and the man chuckled. “As for last night... sorry about the threat thing. Not that I wouldn’t have done something heinous if any of you had gotten in my way, but, y’know, sorry.” she shrugged and he rolled his eyes.

“I forgave you when you told me he was your dad,” Chris smiled and she returned it. “As for the Hale pack...” he led her to a small sofa by his book cases and they sat down heavily. “It’s complicated, and a lot of it is the fault of my family.”

“Don’t tell me, you owe me that hundred bucks because I called the crazy before it happened?” she asked, completely serious, and he laughed a little desperately.

“Something like that,” he acknowledged. “Did your dad ever tell you about the Hale Fire? Or did Laura when you met her?”

“My dad... just that it happened, that Derek and Laura survived, that their uncle was in the hospital in a coma... Laura said the family had been trapped inside the house by mountain ash - they were in the basement, there were children in there; humans and wolves. ” She sighed and shook her head. “She didn’t know who did it," the lie wouldn’t hurt Chris. "But admitted she didn’t trust any hunters at all. I was the only exception because of my reputation. She told me things from her perspective.  I'd like yours though.”

“I only learned about it recently - My sister, Kate?” Stiles snorted but held her hands up at his pointed look. “She was alone with my father growing up for a long time, because of our age gap, when I got out of there I couldn’t shield her from him like I could when I lived at home. So he got into her mind, warped it, warped her into... into something I didn’t even recognise anymore. I didn’t realise it until she came back last year - When she was here about seven or so years ago, she got a part time job at the high school, careers advisor or something. We think it’s there that she met Derek and started manipulating him.”

“So she was a predator too,” Stiles surmised and he nodded, grimacing.

“She was good at manipulating people, she flirted with him for months before she eventually got him to tell her how to get access to his house. The night he thought the pack was supposed to be out at a town function, Kate trapped them all in the basement. We don’t know how, but she committed mass murder. And Laura got the alpha’s power. They left town together and Kate swanned off, a job well done in her eyes.”

“I’ve always thought there was something hinky about your sister,” Stiles admitted. “You’d never listen, but I knew. She’s too into the kill, not into the helping people part. And too focussed on damn werewolves. Seriously, hunting is way more than wolves. Eesh!”

“Anyway...” Chris cleared his throat and she gestured for him to continue. “You’re too kind,” he drawled and she grinned, winking at him. “Kate came back last year around the same time Derek did. Maybe a little later... Killings had started happening, I questioned Derek - he said he was innocent. There was a beta running around that wasn’t Derek, a rogue alpha - Laura was dead-”

“Woah woah... hold the phone right there. What? Start again. Laura was dead. How?”

“The wolf, beta or omega, we didn’t know at the time. It killed her, sliced her in half as if it was a hunter kill-”

“Not a hunter kill. An Argent kill, thank you very much,” she muttered darkly.

“You know what I mean,” he sighed at yet another interruption. “She was dead, the wolf that killed her had become an alpha, a rogue one. It bit a kid in the woods-”

“My step bro?” she asked and he nodded stiffly. “Idiot,” her expression was innocent when he narrowed his eyes on her.

“We were trying to find the alpha, but so were Derek and Scott - when they found it, they discovered it was Peter Hale, the uncle who’d survived the fire.” He waited for her to say something but when she didn’t, he continued. “Kate brought Allison forcefully into the hunting world and in the end, Kate was killed by Peter as revenge for the fire. Peter was then incapacitated and Derek tore out his throat, taking over as alpha. High on power, he turned three teenagers to make his pack, tried to get Scott to join but he was reluctant until recently. I think either Allison or his mother talked him around. Since, they’ve added Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin and Danny Mahealani from school to the pack. Your dad and Scott’s mom are pack but don’t participate much.”

“And you feel ten kinds of guilty on Kate’s behalf.”

“If you call me an idiot-”

“Your words,” she sang and he rolled his eyes. “No wonder the kid’s a grumpy guts,” she snorted. “He thinks he got his family killed.”

“Derek’s not had the best track record, no,” Chris admitted with a wry smile. “He’s trying to keep the pack together, keep the kids safe. Still doesn’t trust me but with Allison getting more and more involved with the pack, I’m being used as a sounding board and a fountain of knowledge for any threat posed to Beacon Hills,” he made a grand gesture towards the stacks of books behind them and she snorted.

“So what you got on what put my dad in hospital?”

“Anything from Mountain Lion to Coyote... nothing rings supernatural outright, but it’s screaming it.” He sounded frustrated, which Stiles could sympathise with. The killers of the supernatural world made a habit of staying under the radar as much as possible by mimicking natural deaths in the human world. It made their job ten times harder, but the lore ten times more accurate so it balanced out somehow. “What did you have?” he glanced at the file she’d left on the desk and she sighed, remembering her conversation in the car.

“Nothing good,” she admitted and filled him in.

“The pack need to be involved in this hunt,” he said after a couple of minute’s silent thinking and she nodded, already knowing that. “A kid? Are you serious?” she nodded again.

“What’s getting me is the time pattern,” she stood up and started walking around. “Killings once a week for four or five weeks, then nothing for a year, hop skip and a jump across a state line or two and then starting up again. I don’t get it.” She growled in frustration and picked up her file from the table. “Is it travelling with a group? Is it alone? Does it hide away for the rest of the year and only come out during summer? What? Does it fucking hibernate? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Red, we’ll figure it out, okay?” Chris was there and she kind of fell into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her until she stepped away. “Give me your number, I’ll pass it onto Derek. He can contact you about a meeting time, yeah? And if you want me there when you meet I’ll be happy to help.”

“I’m not gonna shut you out, Chris,” she said as he walked her out. “I might curse, gripe and whine at you, but you’ve taught me a lot over the years, I won’t shut you out just because it’s my dad.”

--- - - - ---

She did a big of grocery shopping to kill some time and mull over what she’d already learned.

“A dollar for them,” a voice said just behind her and she smiled, her tattoos thrumming with warning, the scar on her cheek itching. She shook the feelings off though and stepped aside, letting her companion take the trolley.

“I’m not that cheap, kid,” she chuckled, throwing a few veg into the trolley. “You haven’t even bought me a drink yet. I hope you’re not expecting me to put out.”

“I wouldn’t dare to try, Red.” They walked to the end of the aisle in silence.

“Got any open ears nearby or do they trust me enough not to slay the big bad wolf in the dairy aisle?” she picked up some milk as she asked the question and heard him snort, imagined him rolling his eyes as she grabbed the cream too.

“I’m the alpha, they listen to me.”

“Scott seems a bit flaky to me,” she said idly. “Too headstrong. Really hope you weren’t stupid enough to make him head beta.” She picked up cheese, yoghurts and butter, then went back up the aisle to get a carton of banana milk. “I’ve got a feeling he’s gonna try go to the hospital to see the Sheriff just because I told his mom I didn’t want anyone up there until I’d had a chance to speak with him.”

“She mentioned that,” Derek picked up a bag of salad when she gestured. “She swore you had a good reason so I agreed, told them to wait. No one was happy but I’m not about to go pissing off Little Red, and neither should they.”

“They’re very insulated here,” she said, picking up a few salad vegetables before they turned into the next aisle. “You’ve got a nice little patch of territory, I can see why your family settled here.” He made an agreeing noise but otherwise didn’t comment. “He’s my dad,” she said after a long moment and heard him suck in a sharp breath she responded to with a wry smile as she picked up a carton of eggs and crackers. “I’m not as angry at the world as I was last night then I put a hole in Chris Argent’s neck and threatened to kill every supernatural being in this town if they got in my way, but I’m still pretty pissed off. I also didn’t get this far without making compromises.” She nudged him when she felt him tense up before grabbing a loaf of sliced bread. She picked up cereal from the end of the aisle and they moved on. “Derek, this is my dad, I’m almost certain you can understand my frustration...”

“I can,” he agreed. “My wolf is just trying to come to terms with you threatening the pack.” she snorted at that, throwing a couple of bags of chips into the trolley, turning back towards the fresh produce to get fruit before she was too far away to bother.

“Get out of that habit, kid. You and your wolf are one in the same. I’m not a newbie.”

“Sometimes its easier to explain to them in terms of wolf and human,” he sighed, picking up grapes and oranges while she got apples and bananas.

“Easier yeah, but it’s only a band aid. If they want to function like a serious pack, you know how you need to train them. Just... think back to how your family trained incoming bitten who married into the clan. Even I caught wind of how badass your mom was in my first few years. She was renowned kid, don’t lose that knowledge.”

“You go from threatening us to telling me how to survive?” he gave her a confused look and she laughed.

“They call me Little Red, you know the rep that comes with it. I don’t discriminate.” they turned back and she lead them towards the meat. “Do you know  a good butcher around here?” she grimaced at the packaged cuts. “I’ve always hated store bought meat.” She watched Derek roll his eyes but nod his head. Grinning, they bypassed the meat and headed for coffee. She picked up ground and instant as well as tea and sugar. She’d grab some honey wherever she saw it.

“You’re planning on staying a long while, aren’t you?” Derek asked, giving a pointed look to the trolley and she shrugged.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to stop, but I hear Beacon’s become somewhat of a beacon itself. I’ll stick around until dad’s up on his feet... maybe, then figure it out from then. Not gonna get all territorial on me are you?” her lips twitched. “We know how well that worked out for you last time, don’t we?” she saw him flush and cackled. “I’m sorry,” she said after a full aisle of grabbing items without speaking. He made a questioning noise and she bumped elbows with him. “About Laura. She was a stand up lady, one of the good ones. Loved you something chronic.”

“It’s...” he sighed. “Thank you. I’d forgotten how quickly you two became friends in New York.” Her smile was wan and they walked on down the aisles.

“Chris said he was gonna give you my number somehow,” she said as he pushed the trolley out into the parking lot to where she’d parked her car. “He got that far yet?”

"Not yet, no.” They exchanged numbers after the groceries were loaded into the trunk of her car.

“I want to work together on this thing, but I need to warn you it might not be pretty.. in fact. It’s gonna get downright ugly.” She drew a shaky breath and they walked to put the trolley away. “There are some things I don’t want the kids involved in - they can’t - it’ll be too much for them. I know they’re betas but I won’t have that on my conscience.”

“What’s got you this worried, Red?” he frowned.

“The thing that’s been attacking people...” she took another breath, the walking back to her car easing her nerves somewhat, but not much. “It’s a rabid were.” he started growling and she choked out a laugh. “I don’t think it’s battling for territory, kid.”

“So what do you think’s happening? Out territory lines are clearly scented every week, it’s suicide for any were to cross those lines without first coming to see me.” Stiles sighed, leaning against the hood of her car.

“I know what it is, I’ve a tenuous grasp on how old it is,” his eyes narrowed at that but she ducked her head. “What I don’t know, is why it only strikes at this time a year for a little over a month before going dormant for another year. We need to all sit down and brainstorm.”

“How old do you think it is?” he asked and she looked up, her expression telling him everything he needed to know. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” she pushed off her car and patted his chest like she’d done hours earlier at her dad’s house. “We’ll figure it out big guy.”

“Where would you be comfortable meeting?” he asked when she opened her car door. She leaned on it with one forearm, the other resting on the roof of the car.

“Where’s your place?” she asked.

“Industrial. A factory loft conversion.” She laughed.

“No kidding... the one off 7th?” he frowned. “My apartment is on the 4th floor.” He snorted. “I’m guessing you got the top?” he smirked but nodded. “If you’re heading over now, you can help me with the groceries.” she winked and slid into the drivers seat, closing the door behind her.

She made it home in ten minutes and saw a familiar black Camaro pulling into the parking space beside hers. When Derek got out of the car she whistled, impressed. “Best thing she did was buy that thing,” she grinned.

“Scott calls it a penis extension,” Derek admitted, making Stiles laugh loudly, the laugh echoing around the underground parking garage.

“Scott’s jealous and picks his battles - well I was gonna say wisely, but then I remembered nearly knocking him out this morning so maybe not that wise.” Derek snorted and they started getting out the groceries. With the two of them there, it was only a one trip deal, which made things easier. Also, werewolf strength, huge bonus. “If you wait out here for a second I’ll get rid of the ash line,” she said with an apologetic smile as she unlocked her door and pulled it open. She dumped the groceries in the kitchen area and rushed back to the door. With a wave of her hand, the ash jumped from the floor and flowed like liquid into a large jar of the stuff that was sat on the floor nearby.

“You’re being very trusting with me right now...” Derek said cautiously as he stepped over the threshold without the barrier throwing him back. Stiles closed the door behind them both and lead the way towards the kitchen area. “Not many hunters would let an alpha wolf know where they live.”

“You’d have found out eventually. You live right above me, kid. And the roof is thick, but there are air vents,” she shrugged and opened her fridge to start putting the groceries away. “As long as you and your betas don’t expect me to start cooking for you, I’m happy with you knowing where I live. I’m more impressed by the fact that you told me where you live so easily. Especially with what happened the last time you trusted a hunter.” She turned to see him tensing up and sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be tiptoeing around the topic until you spilled your guts. Chris told me everything this morning. And before you go saying he had no right, he did. Because I can’t work with anyone unless I know the entire story. I don’t need to know what your mom made you for lunch when you were five, but I need to know things that might put me the hunter and you the wolf at odds. And after knowing the story, I can pretty much guarantee I would’ve stuck my foot in it somewhere down the line. It’s my speciality.” He stared at her for a long, quiet moment before nodding his head once.

“Laura trusted you, you saved both our lives back in New York, I owed you that much.”

“You’re quite the sweet talker,” she drawled and he rolled his eyes.

--- - - - ---

“So how did you take down Scott earlier?” They were in Derek’s loft with all the information the pair of them had gathered spread out on the table in front of them as they waited for the rest of the pack to arrive. Stiles, for the first time since her arrival in town, had foregone her red hoodie. The weather was such that she was happy in her tank top. Then there were the obligatory jeans and boots. Derek had raised an eyebrow at the tattoos on her visible skin but she hadn’t felt the need to explain so he didn’t ask.

“The gloves I was wearing were treated in mountain ash, wolfsbane and silver and embossed with protection runes. I could probably knock you down with a well place right hook if I was wearing them. Probably wouldn’t be able to hold onto your neck like I did his but I pick my battles,” she flashed him a smirk and he rolled his eyes, lips twitching. “Kid deserved it anyway, I’ve been knocked about by every supernatural creature you can think of but nothing gets you like having your head knocked against a wall in the house you grew up in.” Derek frowned but she waved it away. “He was reacting to a perceived threat, I couldn’t really talk him out of it.”

“You weren’t a threat though, not at that moment. You said his mom invited you in?” she nodded. “That should’ve been enough for him, but he pushed.” he growled, frustrated. “I don’t get that kid, I swear. He says he’s happy being a team player, then he goes around acting like a damn alpha.”

“You put him in his place yet?” Derek nodded and she shrugged. “I don’t know the pack well enough to offer advice on dynamics, give me a few days - if we’re still alive, I’ll let you know what I think.”

They silently read the files on the desk for the next ten minutes until she saw Derek shifting.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Scott snarled as the door slammed open. When Stiles looked up from the files, she saw everyone who had been at the house earlier was stood in the loft, everyone staring at her - a few of them glaring.

“Derek?” Stiles spoke up, head cocked, waiting.

“You have permission, Red,” he nodded and she smirked.

Walking around the table she raised a hand and flicked it to the side, the door slammed shut, making the kids jump, shocked. “Now,” she clapped her hands together. “Introductions. First of all, you lot. Go.” When they didn’t speak, Derek growled them into action.

“Danny Mahealani,” looked nice enough, obvious roots in Hawaii or some place like it, had a southern lilt to his accent, barely there. He’d probably been in Beacon Hills all his life and the lilt came from his parents. This one was human.

“Allison Argent,” looked nothing like her aunt, which Stiles was thankful for. Kate and Stiles had a bad one on one relationship. One of their bust-up had been legendary in their world, but Allison looked strong, smart, ready for anything, but also had a frailty about her that would be advantageous when making enemies underestimate her. Stiles had lost that when she hit 18. She was also human, Chris would’ve mentioned is she was anything else.

“Erica Reyes,” was badass, or a tryhard, Stiles wasn’t sure yet. She knew that she had and flaunted it, had an air of danger about her. Definitely a bitten wolf, one of the three Chris mentioned. Stiles imagined that before the bite, she’d been an outcast, from the way she overcompensated by her post-bite appearance, she was either a social outlier or had some debilitating illness that stopped her from doing the most basic of teenage things.

“Vernon Boyd,” was... Vernon Boyd. Tall, dark, silent. He seemed the most at ease of all the bitten wolves in the room, like he was made for it. He stood close to Erica like he wanted to protect her, but not close enough that she’d realise what he was doing.

“Isaac Lahey,” was all curls and puppy eyes. Stiles could see why Melissa took him in. He looked content, despite the unease of the situation they were currently in. He seemed centred, but kept shifting between standing near Scott and standing near Erica and Boyd, which made Stiles draw the conclusion that the three of them had been turned close together.

“Jackson Whittemore,” was a piece of work. He sneered his name out as if he hated it and glared at Stiles as if it might make her back down and had his arms folded over his chest, a clear barrier between himself and the rest of the pack. While he was somewhere in the middle, he wasn’t in the middle, if that made any sense. The only people who seemed to tolerate him was the redhead and Danny. As Stiles arched an eyebrow at him though, the rest of the pack shuffled a little closer. That was interesting, she mused.

“Lydia Martin,” was absolutely not human. Well, she was human, but she had something else going on and Stiles frowned at her, trying to figure it out. She seemed protective over Jackson, like he was hers and no one else had the right to touch him. She appeared to be well placed within the pack, she didn’t want for anything, wasn’t angry at the world like it owed her a favour. Stiles felt tingling running up and down her arm tattoos and narrowed her eyes. She saw the girl’s eyes widen as if shocked before she heard Derek growling.

“The next time you attack a professional hunter unprovoked with magic she is more than capable of using against you with a damn sight more precision than you just used, I’m going to let her,” he snapped and Lydia took a step back, looking shocked that she’d been figured out.

“I don’t think you need to introduce yourself, do you Scotty?” Stiles grinned, ignoring Lydia but giving Derek a nod of thanks for the backup. Scott just growled at her. “I really rubbed you up the wrong way, did I? Still smarting because I won’t let you see the Sheriff?”

“He’s my stepdad!” Scott snapped.

“Yeah? So?”

“We’re his family!”

“And I’m his blood, next argument.” Predictably, the room went silent. She waited a few seconds before opening her mouth to continue, only to have Lydia beat her to the punch.

“How are you his blood?” the redhead asked. “He’s never mentioned having any-”

“You’re Stiles!” Danny gasped, eyes wide. “Holy- you used to be my babysitter!” Stiles frowned at him, confused until after a moment, it clicked.

“You grew up,” she said, then narrowed her eyes. “Just because you’re still human doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass for forcing me to cut all my hair off in junior high.” The kid paled but at least he didn’t back up. He relaxed when she grinned at him though. “Yes, I am Stiles. And for those of you that don’t know what a Stiles is, it’s me. Only my mother could pronounce my first name, so I chose this. The Sheriff is my father and that, Scott McCall, gives me the right to deny you and anyone else access to him. Now, any arguments?”

There was, and they lasted for twenty minutes until Stiles turned away and let Derek take over, ordering them all to deal with it until the Sheriff woke up, rationalising it by saying they’d be useless up there anyway.

Stiles realised she probably could’ve lead with that.

“That was unnecessarily dramatic,” Derek bumped into her as he rounded the table to stand beside her.

“Laura said I could’ve been an actor,” she posed and batted her eyelashes at him. “Right before I went down-” her eyes laughed when his hand slapped over her mouth.

“I don’t want to ever hear about my sister’s sex life. Ever. Got it?” His eyes flashed red and she arched an eyebrow, biting down hard on his hand, forcing him to snatch it away.

“Did you just try to alpha me? Not even Laura did that, Cujo.”

“You can’t prove a thing,” he shrugged, wiping his hand on his jeans before turning to his pack, who had gathered around the table and were stood staring at the pair of them.

“Are you two gonna flirt like this the whole time?” Jackson groaned.

“Would you rather I try to get into your girlfriends panties?” Stiles asked and the kid growled, pulling Lydia closer to him. “Shut up then, idiot.”

“What’s all this? Part of it looks like my dad’s handwriting,” Allison pointed to a report and attention was officially trained on them.

It took a while to go over everything, give them the history, what could happen, what probably would happen, what they could help with and what they couldn’t. There were arguments and protests - they all wanted to help, but Derek and Stiles flat out refused. They could help by keeping the town safe, patrolling during the night, taking watchs, boosting the presence where the police fell short. They were all under orders not to engage any hostiles. If anyone came into contact, they were told to scare the wolf away from populated areas and call either Derek or Stiles.

“You think it’s a kid, don’t you?” Lydia asked when she’d finished reading over the files. “A minor at least, our age maybe.” She was astute, Stiles would give her that. A bit flaky though, too into her own self-image.

Stiles made a living out of her perceived image, but at least she had purpose. Then again, this kid was only that, a kid, so she still had time to maneuver herself around.

“How old it is is irrelevant to any of you; no one under the after of 24 is going against it.”

“Of course its relevant,” Scott persisted. “It could be someone at school!”

“Possibly, but unlikely. If you’d paid attention,” Stiles pointed at the previous case files. “It’s transient. It moves around. What we need to figure out is why does it pick these few weeks of the year to go on a killing spree?”

“If we can’t help with the hunt, why are we helping with the figuring out?” Jackson asked, sounding bored and Stiles stared him down.

“I don’t like you,” she said. “You’re spoiled, entitled, think you’re better than anyone and everyone around you because you came from money. You got the bite because you were jealous of someone you tormented almost your entire school life and you come in here thinking you’re doing me and my father a favour by gracing me with you less than inspiring sarcastic barbs? I’ve been hunting for 10 years you little shit, I’ve killed more monsters than you could ever imagine and just because you’re not an adult yet doesn’t mean I won’t take you out, and be happy to do so, if you in any way hinder this investigation. Grow up or get the fuck out.” She pointed at the door and stared at him, face set. He stared back, face flushed, embarrassed, but he didn’t move an inch.

“We don’t want you on the hunt because on the off chance that the rabid is a kid...” Derek started. “I don’t want that on anyone’s conscience, got it?” When no arguments were forthcoming, they started brainstorming about the times of each spree.

--- - - - ---

“How’s he doing?” Stiles had been driving around for hours in an attempt to clear her head or search for the rabid were, she hadn’t decided.

“Still not awake,” Melissa’s voice sounded through her car’s speaker system. “Scott stopped by-”

“He what?!” she snapped, barely avoiding hitting an oncoming car as she swerved into the other lane.

“Relax, Red,” Melissa was probably rolling her eyes. She sounded like she was rolling her eyes. “He came to drop my lunch off and to chat. Says you told him who you were... Couldn’t believe he had a step-sister he had no idea about and that she was this world renowned hunter extraordinaire.”

“Kid’s got a big damn mouth,” she muttered and heard Melissa laugh. “He’s so argumentative, I’m surprised he’s survived as long as he has in the pack. I’ve been in town almost two days and I can already tell he doesn’t trust Derek like a beta is supposed to trust an alpha.”

“Well, from what I understand, they didn’t really get off to the best of starts,” Melissa sighed but Stiles didn’t have time for excuses. It wasn’t a luxury she could ever afford.

“Whatever,” she replied maturely. “If he doesn’t want to be in the pack he can be an omega. Pack dynamics are complicated and intricate. Families are what you make them, packs rely on balance, chemistry... obedience. Scott’s at war with himself and he’s trying, I get it, and yeah he’ll probably get it in the end but right now he just likes the kid who is very fringe with no benefits. I’m sorry, Mel, I know he’s your kid, I just can’t afford not to trust anyone right now.” She heard a sigh down the line and fought one of her own, wondering if she should have maybe censored herself but realising anything she said would only help matters along, whoever she spoke to.

Then she realised she would eventually have to speak with Scott alone.

“I’m not gonna say he’s perfect, because he’s not. No one is. But he’s been dealt a crappy hand and he has some anger issues, exacerbated by the wolf thing - which heightens everything, not just emotions. Hormones too, and Stiles, he’s 17, but he’s a good kid. And he is trying. I think you’ll be surprised by how much he could help you... he and your dad have become close since we moved in and-”

“Sorry Melissa,” Stiles interrupted, really not wanting to hear what the woman had been about to say. “I’m not going to be guilted into letting him bypass my rules. I don’t know if that’s what you meant or if you didn’t mean it at all, but it’s what it sounds like. Scott might be my step-brother but I don’t know him at all. To me, he’s your son, he’s a kid and he’s a werewolf. The only thing standing him in good stead right now is the fact that he hasn’t actively hurt anyone. And yeah, I know I’m gonna have to get over this when dad wakes up and Scott and I will probably have to sit down and hash things out because finding out you have a sister who hunts your kind has to be tough, but he’s not my priority and until this thing is down, he can’t be.”

“Honey,” Melissa sighed again. “We’re not trying to replace your family. We love your father very much and we want you to be a part of that.”

“I’m still a hunter Mel, I’m not going to be sticking around forever.”

“I know,” she said. “But maybe getting to know us a little better will give you another reason to come back more?”

“I don’t stay away because I don’t love my dad,” Stiles scowled at her phone where it sat plugged into her car. “I stay away because I can’t stand it here. Here is where my mother died. I hate it. Why would I torture myself for longer than I need to by staying here?”

“Because you have family here.” Stiles didn’t reply and Melissa just sighed, again, before saying she had to go. The call ending tone sounded as Stiles pulled into a dead end stretch of woodland road. She parked up just far enough away from the main road that her car wouldn’t be seen and got out. Grabbing her phone and a rucksack from the backseat, she locked the car and set off walking. She needed to think.

Walking had always helped her make sense of the world. Other hunters thought going off wandering alone wasn’t worth the obvious trouble but Stiles loved it and she wasn’t exactly defenseless. Being in town was too much, her head was buzzing and getting hazy, even though her apartment was away from the general population, it seemed that Derek’s place was a popular hangout so she couldn’t even relax there. Her scar itched, her tattoos tingled and she always got the feeling she was being listened in on, even though Derek told her that while he’s aware of her existence, he doesn’t make a habit of invading other people’s privacy. It wasn’t the same though.

What I need, she thought, is space.

The irony was that all she’d had since she started the hunting gig was space. Aside from the odd collaboration here and there over the years, she generally worked alone. She didn’t like to let herself trust other hunters because 90% of them were self-serving blood lusting asshats, but even she had to admit they all had their place.

Originally, there had been two rabids - there had to have been for the hunter she'd been in touch with to have killed one but have the killings continue. The one he killed had been a kid, 14 tops, so maybe the other one was a friend? A sibling? Parent? Either it bit the kid or the kid bit it, Stiles had no way of knowing. Joe hadn’t gone into too much detail understandably.

She snorted to herself.

It was like a riddle.

What hunted for 4-5 weeks of the summer, then went dormant for the rest of the year, only to pop back up a year later and a state over to start again?

Okay, not like a riddle, but a pretty compelling essay question. Countless theories and justifications.

She mulled over the case details she could remember and tried to make sense.

No trace evidence found on any of the victims, any trace on her dad would have been long gone - Derek had admitted to not being able to pick up a scent at all around the area of the attack. The rabid was either incredibly organised and was high functioning, blended in, able to cover his tracks from hunters and cover everything else from more conventional means of investigation... or the rabid was just a weapon.

The realisation hit her as she hit a clearing that had a rocky brook running down the middle and disappearing into the trees.

The rabid wasn’t a hunter, it was a hunter’s weapon.

Which meant her dad hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time, he had been targeted. Did someone know he was her dad? That kind of information would be like gold to the countless of people she'd pissed off over the years. Or was it his affiliation with the pack? Was this a play for the territory or a play to wipe the Hale pack out? Either way it didn't sit well with her.

“But what had the power to control a rabid?” she murmured to herself as she neared the brook, easily crossing it but changing directions and following it instead of continuing straight. And what, more importantly, had the power to force a rabid to turn against the moon cycle?

The epiphany put the whole ‘who is the rabid’ on a different spin.

Her scar began to itch and she frowned, opening her senses as far as she could. "Either announce yourself or risk a bullet. Your choice..." she had her hand on her holster as she waited,  spinning around and aiming when she heard a twig snap at her 6 o'clock, rolling her eyes when she saw Derek strolling towards her. “You either got a fantastic grasp of my sense range very quickly or you saw my car abandoned and put your nose to the ground.”

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other,” Derek shrugged.

“You do not have a grasp of my sense range,” she challenged and his lips twitched.

“Saw the car, wanted to know if something was up. Your scent was distracted, not what I’m used to with you.” He stopped a few feet away and gave the gun she still had out a pointed look. She rolled her eyes but slipped the piece back into its holster.

“I was thinking. I think better when I’m walking. I walk better when I’m alone. Though hindsight is telling me walking around the Hale territory woodland isn’t the best way to stay ‘alone’.” Derek snorted.

“I don’t even let my betas patrol these woods alone.” They were quiet for a few seconds until she shifted away, continuing to walk beside the brook. “Did anything come from your thinking?”

“Nothing good, but something helpful,” she admitted before explaining her theory.

“Do you think someone with the knowledge of your name would dare go after your dad?” he asked, disbelief lining his tone and she shrugged.

“I don’t know, maybe? Possibly? Weirder things have happened. I’ve pissed a lot of people off in my time.”

“A lot of those people are no longer living,” he pointed out and she tipped her head, acknowledging the statement. “I don’t think it’s likely to be any of your personal enemies. The world knows you as Little Red and you’re the best at what you do. You know my history, do you think I’d be near you or let you near my pack if I didn’t trust you at least a little?”

“Alright,” she conceded. “If it isn’t me, it’s you. Your pack. My dad is a member, yes, but he’s human, law enforcement and really only there by association, through Melissa-”

“That’s how it started,” Derek agreed. “But he became more than that, he earned his place.”

“Do you think it’s possible the thing controlling the rabid has been targeting packs this whole time?” she asked.

“Weren’t all the victims human?”

“Would werewolf victims want their dead advertised to the general public? I don’t know,” she kicked a pebble into the brook. “I don’t think it’s beyond the realm of possibility. This thing could thrive on the chaos that comes with packs losing members.”

“But, on the other side of things, the victims before the Sheriff had nothing to do with us.”

“Maybe it’s testing the water? Testing your response time? Or maybe it was testing my dad’s? It already had a line up, a hit list... and it started with him? Luring him to that place, knowing that he’d be alone because he’s the Sheriff, he often patrols alone.” They stopped walking when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out she glanced down at the text message that flashed.

“What is it?” Derek asked and she slid her phone back into her pocket.

“He’s awake.”

--- - - - ---

“So,” she sat on the chair beside her dad’s bed, legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles, hands loosely clasped together on her lap. “You’re so lucky you’re in the hospital right now, old man,” she rolled her eyes when he smiled, very aware of just how lucky he was at that moment. He looked exhausted, haggard, but had demanded to see her when he learned she was in town. “First of all, you new brat is a wolf. That’s kind of important information for me to know - not just because I do what I do but because I’m the goddamn best at what I do and I don’t judge anyone. It sucks that you think I would.”

“We were going to tell you soon,” he murmured gently. “The pack were settled, life was fine, we were just waiting for the right opportunity.”

“Second of all, there are two Argents left. TWO. And one of them is in the damn pack. That leaves this entire town under the somewhat questionable protection of a pack with a lousy history in self-control.” She was glaring at him, he was going to take everything she had to say to him and then some. This was unacceptable.

“We also have Deaton?” her dad tried.

“Deaton’s job is balance, mine it to protect. There’s a difference!”

“Well I wasn’t going to bring you home when you hate it here so your argument is moot. Continue.” He sounded like he was taking it all in his stride. While Stiles didn’t want to overwhelm him, she wanted him to think about his actions. He looked like he was only half listening, half basking in her presence.

“Third,” she snapped. “I learned more about this thing in two days than anyone of you here learned in a month, so next time something like this happens, mention it in freaking passing at least!”

“So you know what’s going on then?” he asked, changing his tone and trying to sit up, wilting when she scowled at him.

“Fourth; Parish is a moron, your deputies are more afraid of me than they are of you - which means your lunches and snacks are henceforth being monitored, and the next time you go out on patrol you’re on rookie duty.” His eyes were doing the weird glassy thing they did when he was either about to cry or laugh at her. “Your new kid is a moron, no offense to Mel, but he is. Little shit tried slamming into a wall so I nearly knocked him out. This town is a mess, the pack is slowly rebuilding itself into something it used to be but in the meantime it’s made itself a target. Big flashing lights shaped like arrows all pointing at them screaming here we are, ripe for the picking! That means everyone is a target. Not just the wolves, or involved humans, but you and Mel too. This!” she made a vague gesture to herself. “Isn’t your world. Your world is lawful, by the book, natural and decidedly not supernatural. You didn’t want this life when I started and I have no freaking idea why you want it now because it nearly killed you!”

“Are you done?” he asked and she continued to glare but kept her mouth shut. “First of all, I’m the parent, not you. I’ve yelled at you till I’m blue in the face and you never listen to me when I tell you to stay away from something and I know it’s your job, and I respect that, but what I did a few nights ago was my job. I was doing my conventional, decidedly natural job when I was attacked - which is also commonplace among the regular folk of law enforcement.”

“Did you know Scott didn’t even know who I was?” she asked suddenly and he had no hope in hell of holding back the flinch. “Dad, I love you, I really do, I’m just too pissed right now.” she stood up and stepped up to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek gently. “I’ll be back soon - maybe tonight.”

“Stiles,” he grasped her arm and held it tightly. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“You’re...” she laughed a little desperately, running her free hand over her face. “You’re - I can’t do this.” She tugged her arm free and walked to the door. “I’ll let the brats through to see you,” she said before leaving. She gave a short wave to Melissa before heading for the elevator. Walking through the foyer, she didn’t even spare a glance towards the waiting area as she spoke. “Two at a time, ten minutes each pair.” She heard the mad dash and ignored it, jogging out to her car. Once inside she connected her phone to bluetooth and dialled a number, firing up her engine before peeling out of the parking lot.

“Hale,” the voice grunted.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“The loft, why?”

“I learned to take all my hand to hand hits through werewolf trainers. I have a lot of energy and frustration I need to get rid of.” She stopped talking and let him take the hint.

“Door’s unlocked,” Derek finally replied and a click from the line told her he’d hung up.

When she made it up to Derek’s loft, she hauled the door open and slammed it shut behind her. Derek was stood leaning against the table they’d been planning around the day before. She dropped her bag to the floor along with her jacket and hoodie.

“You’re not bringing any weapons?” Derek asked, eyebrow raised as Stiles jumped down the steps, rolling her shoulders, stretching out her muscles, trying to loosen up and shake out some excess energy. Her expression pinched, as if she were trying to hold back a hot retort that would anger rather than appease Derek. “One to ten,” he said when she didn’t reply to his first question. “One being human, no discernible skills, ten being alpha wolf, me.”

“Start at six,” she said, stopping in the middle of the room and waiting. She saw him push away from the table with ease and pad barefoot across the cold concrete floor like it had underfloor heating or something. He deviated when he reached the 5ft distance and started to circle her, prowling almost, like a predator. “Do you know how to instigate a spar with a woman?” she asked, lips twitching and heard him snort.

“I know how to instigate a spar with a female wolf,” he replied. “I usually tell them to attack me first.”

“So you can gauge their starting stance, their attack formation, see what muscle’s they’re using and compare to what muscles they should use...” she jumped forward, rolling and spinning around, her stance instant and defensive when she felt him approach quickly from behind. She saw him nod, impressed, and this time they circled each other.

“How would you instigate a spar with a wolf?” he asked and she shrugged.

“Depends on the wolf,” she said. “Some are picky, too in control of themselves, don’t give anything away before they attack but then they leave themselves open to anything and everything I can throw at them.” They both caught the shift at the same time before the other attacked. He blocked her blow with ease, she felt her bones jarr with the force of his but didn’t let it phase her as she tried to kick his knee out, using the leverage to jump backwards, away from him, only to have him follow quickly. They blocked and blocked for a few more seconds before breaking apart again.

“Laura used to spar with me almost every night so I could get rid of my aggression,” he said idly as they circled one another again. “She’d kick my ass, but a spar was a spar, not a fight. It helped.”

“Laura was a fine lady,” she commented and he agreed, nodding. She threw herself at him first this time and he twisted, sending her stuttering to a halt somewhere behind him. Before she could fully turn, he was on her, arm around her neck in a choke hold. She went limp quickly and he grunted at the dead weight. She let it continue for a few seconds and reared up, hands coming up to grip his neck, digging her nails in and he roared, releasing her instantly and pushing her into a nearby pillar. “Alpha wolves are so picky about their necks,” she chuckled, running her bloodied fingers over each forearm, making her tattoos thrum under her skin.

Derek was growling, eyes glowing, teeth very wolf like, but that was it. No hair or ears in play.

“I thought I told you to start at a six,” she went on and he rolled his own shoulders, stretching his neck to crack it, sighing as if it was satisfying which Stiles could appreciate she supposed, it just sounded weird when someone else did it.

“I won’t be making that mistake again,” he said through the sharpened set of teeth he was sporting, almost lisping his words out and he stalked forward.

Their spar went on for another hour, each of them pushing the other until Stiles was at her max, her limit topped out and eventually, she let him pin her to the nearest wall, obligingly dropping her head, neck bared in deference to his victory. She felt him growling into her neck, his teeth scraping down the skin, saliva dripping down from his mouth and pooling at her nape.

“Holy shit,” they heard and she gasped, tensing under Derek’s hold, not relaxing until he started growling something close to soothing against her neck. When she finally relaxed, she tugged a wrist out of his grip and patted him on the shoulder.

“Good spar, big guy,” she panted, righting her head and catching his eye. They were both bloody, but she had actual cuts and bruises whereas his healed. She kinda hated him for that. He noticed her giving him the stink eye and smirked, completely ignoring the outburst until she acknowledged it a few seconds later. She let her head rest against the wall behind her and started at the group stood by the door. “Weren’t you at the hospital?” she asked, still breathing hard, barely blinking when Derek honed in on the other side of her neck this time, stamping his win home with a blunt-toothed nip while she allowed it.

“Can you two stop humping each other’s leg?” Scott looked grossed out and Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“You know a man and a woman can get this close without getting hot and bothered, right?” he glared at her and she snorted. “Prude. You are so not a proper teenager,” she drawled, tugging her other wrist free and gently pushing Derek away from his victory dance. “Go get a shower, you stink,” she playfully wrinkled her nose and he rolled his eyes.

“Got nothing on you,” he taunted and she snorted again.

“Back up, Cujo,” she said with a laugh. “I smell fucking fantastic. Don’t even hate. Now, I’m going to go to my own apartment and shower. I think I have blood in my hair,” she frowned, tugging at a lock of matted hair she couldn’t see. He smirked but didn’t seem inclined to confirm or deny, which in itself was a confirmation. Ten minutes, a few grossed out teenagers and a lot of smart remarks later, she was in her own shower.

“STILES!” there was pounding on her front door and she scowled at the very loud, vocal use of her first name. The kid was asking to be maimed, she was almost certain of it. “STILES!” he shouted again. She finished rinsing her hair, not even flinching when the suds ran over her cuts, and shut the shower off. Opening her front door wearing only a towel around herself and a smaller one around her hair wasn’t exactly what she’d planned but whatever.

“Would you like to shout a little louder? Maybe tell the entire supernatural community that my name is Stiles? They might even make the connection that the Sheriff is my dad, and then this entire shit fest of a backwater town will drown in its own blood because the amount of shit I’ve had to deal with over the last ten years has made me more than a few enemies who are more than willing to use my family against me. Go on,” she said easily. “Shout some more. I keep telling your mom that you’re a moron, prove me right, kid.” Scott flushed, but glared at her. Argent’s kid stood beside him looking a little nervous, out of her depth, even a tiny bit overawed by Stiles. With a practised move, Stiles waved her hand from right to left in a sweeping motion and like before, the mountain ash line swept itself up and into the large jar. “Do come in,” she smiled easily.

When the door shut, she put the ash line back and pointed towards the breakfast bar.

“Sit there, don’t move, don’t touch anything. Don’t go snooping, don’t open any drawers. Don’t. Do. Anything. I’ll be five minutes.”

“She’s worse than my mom,” she heard before she, very pointedly, slammed her bedroom door shut.

Dressed in faded jeans, boots and a clean wife-beater, she walked back into the open plan living area, towel draped around her shoulders to catch the water from her still-damp hair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, putting two bottles of water in front of the pair and opening a third for herself.

“I thought we should talk,” Scott was still blushing, embarrassed or not, Stiles wasn’t sure.

“You mean someone else told you to come talk to me.” his flush darkened and he scowled at the bottle of water in his hand. “You get your claws into that you’re cleaning up the mess,” she pointed out helpfully, ignoring the annoyed look the Argent brat threw her way.

“Your dad thinks we should get to know each other,” he ground out through gritted teeth and she snorted.

“Look, whatever shit you’ve got going on with your dad, that’s your business, Scott’s trying right now-”

“Trying my patience,” Stiles drawled, taking a long drink of water. “You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I not only give a shit, but that I somehow want anything to do with you. I have a family, my dad is it. He just so happens to be married to your mom, who is a classy lady and I think she’s amazing, but he lied to me, by omission, about you. Do you think I want to be away from him for years on end?”

“You’ve certainly not made much of an effort to come around for Thanksgiving or Christmas,” Scott glared at her.

“You’re a child,” she rolled her eyes. “What do you know? Nothing.”

“I know enough to know you miss him. You drove 9 hours non-stop to get here didn’t you?” he snapped and she raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t need anymore family, kid, especially when the family I have lies to me because it’s scared I’ll react badly to the fact that my new kid brother is a fucking werewolf.”

“So it’s the wolf thing that pisses you off the most,” he surmised and she rolled her eyes. “You were just sparring with an Alpha wolf, for fun, you let him scent you. You can’t be against wolves in general.”

“You feel as helpless as the rest of us,” Argent said quietly. “It’s not a nice feeling, is it?”

“When you’re stood in a ward full of children, barely five years old, and you’re watching their life force being drained and you can do absolutely nothing, then you can come back to me and tell me you know what it’s like to be helpless,” she glared at the girl so hard she flinched, but to her credit, she didn’t back down. “I’m not helpless in this instance, because unlike you, I know how to investigate. I know what we’re dealing with and I’ve a solid idea on why it’s happening. Which is more than I can say for anything you had before I arrived.”

“You’re feeling helpless because you can’t do anything about your dad,” Argent pushed on. “You can’t keep him out of the Supernatural, no matter how hard you’ve tried to distance yourself and your work from his, you can’t lock him away and wrap him in bubble wrap, no matter how much you want to. He wouldn’t let you.”

“You’re right,” Stiles murmured, staring at her refrigerator a few feet behind Argent where she’d stuck a picture of her dad on with a cheesy magnet. “I can’t protect him anymore than I already have.” The two teenagers sat across from her seemed thrown by her admission. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to open myself up to more leverage my enemies can use against me. I don’t want anymore family, the one I have left is proving more than enough for me to cope with right now.”

“I think it’s a bit late for family nights and heartfelt moments,” Scott rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to impose myself on you more than I already have-”

“What, you mean the crack my head took in the drywall the other morning?” she asked and he flinched, but pushed on.

“I want us to be civil with one another, for him at least. And my mom. I know she likes you, it’s why she’s been trying so hard to accommodate you. Even before we knew you were his daughter and she couldn’t tell us anything about you, she fought your case until she was blue in the face and we finally agreed to wait. I mean, you’re not leaving now are you? You’re hanging around.”

“Just because my dad’s sick doesn’t mean I don’t still have a day job,” she pointed out and he frowned, confused.

“But he needs you here,” he protested and she smirked.

“Does he? He has you doesn’t he? Big bad werewolf on campus, and the rest of the pack to protect him... oh wait,” her smile dropped. “You fucked that up last time didn’t you?”

“Look, he’s the Sheriff! We can’t exactly follow him around and watch his every move-”

“No, but you,” she pointed at the girl. “Can act like the hunter you are and recognise a situation for what it is! You knew he knew about the supernatural, and you knew something was attacking people around town. Using more caution could have been something to point out to him!”

“This isn’t Allison’s fault!” Scott snarled. “We can’t control what he does when he’s at work! We told him that something was happening!”

“And that’s it? No follow-up? No questions, no nothing? Really?” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not really in a position to ask those kinds of questions,” Argent gritted out and Stiles turned back to Scott, waiting.

“All I ever get from him is ‘I can’t talk about on going investigations’, this time wouldn’t have been any different.”

“You’re a moron,” she said. “You’re his stepson, you live in the same house, eat at his table, watch his TV, are the beneficiary of killer dental and he knows what you are. Do you honestly think he’d say he couldn't talk about it when he knows it concerned the supernatural? When he knows your pack was investigating it too? Really?”

“You can’t just keep looking for new reasons to hate me,” Scott snapped. “Do you want me to say I’m sorry he got hurt? Well I am! I’m sorry he was dragged into this mess! I’m sorry he was targeted! I’m sorry my being a damn werewolf brought all this bullshit down on your precious family but where the hell were you?” by the end he was shouting at her. “Where were you when he got attacked? Where were you when he got shot?” Stiles froze. “Where were you when he had a heart attack? Where were you when they told him he had to retire at the end of this term? Where the hell were you when me and my mom sat in the doctors office with him and they told him if he didn’t slow down he wouldn’t last another year?” he blinked down at the death grip Argent had on his arm and frowned at her, only then realising exactly what the expression on Stiles’ face was. “Oh,” he breathed.

“Get out,” she said quietly and Argent tugged him down from the stools.

“Stiles-”

“Get out.” Stiles saw his head tip up as Argent pulled him away from her but he shook his head.

“Stiles I-”

“Get. OUT!” She roared, throwing her arm out. The door slammed open, the mountain ash disappeared. She wouldn’t use her magic to throw them out, she’d never use it for that, but this was as close as she’d ever come to using it in that way. “Before I break my own oath,” she was clinging to the breakfast bar like it was the only thing keeping her upright and she turned away from Scott, looking directly at Argent this time. “Get him out of here or I swear to God...” she trailed off, leaving the threat open.

“Stiles please!” Scott shouted and then he was gone.

 She didn’t see them leave, having let herself sink to the floor behind the breakfast bar and try to curl in on herself. Her breaths were coming in short sharp bursts. She barely heard the door sliding shut, didn’t even hear anyone approaching – couldn’t register anything with her senses because her mind was racing – and so, didn’t realise she wasn’t along until there was a body behind her, wrapping itself around hers. Hands latched onto her wrists tightly, crossing over her chest securely. She opened her eyes enough to see familiar legs pinning hers to the floor, closing them again when the head attached to the new body leaned forward to rest against hers, ear to ear.

“You’re going to breath with me, got it?” his voice rumbled through her body and she tried jerking away, to no avail; it didn't surprise her. He had her tight. “I’m going to ease up on your chest and you’re going to breathe in, then I’m going to tighten up on your chest so you can breathe out. Nice and controlled, okay? In and out, don’t think about anything else, just that. Got it?” her head was leaning back against his shoulder, pressed against the wall of the breakfast bar but she nodded as best she could. “Good girl,” he whispered and loosened his grip. “Breathe in,” and it started.

She breathed with him for a while. She didn’t know how long they were on the floor and she’d lost count of how many breaths it took for her to calm down. When she was eventually calm again, heart rate back to normal and no longer at risk of accidentally injuring herself, she slumped as much as his hold could let her.

“I’m gonna ease up but I’m not gonna let you go, okay?” he said and she nodded again, thankful.

“You’re a good guy, Hale,” she breathed and heard him snort out an amused breath against her ear.

“Laura taught me everything she knew,” he admitted and she patted the nearest bit of his skin she could reach.

“Thank you.”

They were quiet for a while before Stiles remembered exactly why she ended up where she was. She felt Derek tensing up again as her heart rate increased but she shook her head, taking deep breaths to keep herself calm.

“What’s the stance on patricide?” she asked and he just sighed.

--- - - - ---

“I just had Scott in here in a state because he shouted at you for not being around for things he thought you knew about but apparently didn’t know,” Melissa was on the other end of the line and Stiles didn’t speak. “I know you’re angry, at your dad, probably at me too because I didn’t call when he told me not to, you had the right to know when he got hurt,” she went on and Stiles pressed her head against the steering wheel of her car. “He only kept it from you because he knew you’d come back and you hate it here, he didn’t want to force you here-” Stiles reached out and hit end call.

She drove around Beacon Hills aimlessly for hours, only stopping at the gas station to fill up her car after the four hours mark. She was pretty sure she’d been down every street in the town before heading back to the apartment.

“What if it’s another pack?” she asked as she let herself into Derek’s loft. She saw the other man look up from where he was going over something with Isaac at the kitchen table. “Sorry, you busy?”

“Homework,” Derek answered, gesturing to Isaac and Stiles walked over, glancing over their shoulders at the physics problems.

“You major in Quantum Mechanics?” she asked the alpha, who rolled his eyes.

“No but I passed in high school.”

“You’re mixing equations,” she commented, reaching out and picking up a piece of paper. “This is mechanics, velocity, gravity, etc. Not what you want for those problems.”

“Which is probably why it wasn’t making any sense,” Isaac grumbled and she snorted.

“Organise your notes better,” she grinned, ruffling his hair and dancing away when Derek tried to swat her hands away.

“Another pack?” he asked and she nodded.

“We know there’s a rabid, we know it’s young, which means it’s probably either impressionable and is being manipulated, or it’s under direct control of someone. This thing has been used to target packs, or the humans within a pack. I managed to contact people who knew each of the victims from other states and once they heard my name they were a lot more forthcoming with information. Each victim was a human pack member. One had been pregnant - an alpha’s mate actually. A pregnant alphas mate.” She let that sink in for a few seconds. “The alpha barely survived. It’s only because of his pack that he managed to pull through - he still isn’t the same alpha he was, but he’ll do anything to get revenge, including give me the information I want.”

“Does that extend to helping us if we need it?” Derek asked, frowning. Isaac was listening but also working on his homework.

“He said contact will have to go down the proper channels but they’re a formality; they’ll help if you need the help. All the packs I spoke to said they’re glad I picked the hunt up, they’re just sorry it took another victim for someone to take notice.”

“That sounds like some backhanded blame game,” Isaac said and Stiles chuckled.

“Yes and no. Someone should have noticed, it’s why hunters exist. But they’re glad I was the one who put it together - well, they acknowledged that it was me. I wasn’t really going to bring attention to every facet of help I received.”

“Why not?” Isaac frowned.

“Reputation and safety of all involved,” Derek answered for her. “Better she take all the heat and/or glory than someone else making a mistake and paying for everything.” He turned to regard her. “Why would a pack use a rabid? Packs are prideful, very into their own hype, their own power. They take every measure to ensure everyone knows who they are.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s just a theory right now. I can’t go out scenting the area, don’t have the olfactory capabilities,” she tapped her nose. “And other than the hospital, I’m not entirely sure where to start looking.”

“Why the hospital?” Isaac asked, his brow knitting with worry.

“Because this victim didn’t die, he survived. Whoever’s controlling this rabid isn’t used to failing and will probably go after dad again.”

“You sound very blase about the fact that your father is still a target,” Derek pointed out and she shrugged.

“I’ve taken precautionary measures,” she waves him off. “Besides, there’s also Melissa to think about. And Lydia, Danny, Allison, Chris... Even pack adjacent are at risk.”

“Which means you too,” Isaac surmised and again, she shrugged.

“Not to get into my own hype but I think if whoever it is controlling the rabid knew they’re bring me down on them, they’d have skipped this town.” She was staring down at Isaac’s homework and pointed at a problem. “Walk me through your working for that,” she changed the subject and thus, pulled herself into homework duty.

--- - - - ---

She’d worked with the Argents once before. Four years ago their paths had crossed in a backwater suburb of Chicago. Back then Victoria was alive and Chris seemed as intense as ever, but Allison never had a clue. Stiles had met Kate before and they’d taken an instant dislike to one another. Where Stiles had made a name for herself for all the right reasons, Kate was one checkbox away from the psych ward and everyone knew it. So there was no love loss between the two hunters, but Chris was always fair in her eyes. He always knew right from wrong even when Victoria whispered in his ear, the devil on his shoulder, he always listened but never took an innocent life as far as she was aware.

Stiles and Victoria never got on either, but she at least respected Stiles for her reputation and her professionalism, even if she didn’t agree with the supernaturals she made a point of defending over the years.

“Bullshit,” Stiles laughed as she hacked away at a particularly thick portion of brush.

“What? You think I’d lie to you about my wife?” Chris chuckled, following her lead. They’d been wading their way through the outer rim of the Hale land; the crescent moon was high, sky cloudless, air cool but not cold and this two mile stretch was their zone; The Hale pack were scattered along the town line, hoping to catch a scent and she drew the short straw, swapping details with Allison, who went with Derek while Stiles went with Chris.

“I call bullshit,” she repeated. “She appreciated my skills, acknowledged my reputation, she never liked me. Nor did your sister for that matter. I’m just not blood thirsty enough for Argent women,” she snorted.

“She respected you,” Chris persisted. “We were taught different methods, a different code, but we’re all hunters.”

“Nu-uh,” she clucked her tongue. “I protect those who need protecting, supernatural or human, I don’t much care. The Argent line has a long, tiresome history if shoot first ask questions later. That’s not the way to protect the innocent, Chris, and you know it.”

“Like I said,” he sounded hacked through another bush. “Different methods.”

“I can say, hand on heart, a bible, on the damn holy ghost that I have never killed an innocent, can your family?” he didn’t answer but she hadn’t expected him to. “You know, my dad hates what I do. Says it’s dangerous, says there are probably hundreds of other hunters that could do what I do but I never stop because while there might be hunters that could do what I do, how many of them would?”

“Times are changing slowly, Red,” Chris admitted. “No one can kill indiscriminately anymore. Science moves too quickly for anyone to risk it. Everyone is somebody. No one is never missed.”

“So it’s not a moral change, it’s self preservation.” She heard something and froze, hand raising in a fist - a gesture for Chris to stop moving too. Her sense range expanded and she tipped her head when she felt something spike. Another gesture to Chris had them splitting up silently; him going left, her going right, firearms brandished.

Her eyes were everywhere, scanning the dark, looking for any movement, hearing trained, trying to pick up anything but after a few minutes searching, she found nothing so sighing, she flicked her flashlight on and went to find Chris, only to hear a loud gunshot close by followed by the sound of Chris crying out. She ran towards the noises and came upon the other man, flat on his back holding his arm over his very bloody abdomen. Her scar was itching like crazy and her skin thrumming with the energy of the air around her but the feeling was lessening with every second and every breath until it was gone completely.

“I think I shocked it,” Chris gritted out and Stiles knelt down beside him, using her flashlight to examine around the area he was holding.”It’s not deep,” he went on. “Gonna need stitches though.”

“You gonna shut up or am I gonna have to gag you?” she asked with a toothy smile and rolled her eyes when he snorted.

“I’m too old for that kinky shit, Red,” he laughed, a little breathless and she patted his shoulder with a touch of condescension.

“I’ll be sure to let your brat know your sense of humour is drying up in your old age.” He flinched through a broken laugh, trying to curl up against the pain until she pushed him back down. “Don’t make me get all bondage on you,” she warned. “I don’t like getting blood on my good rope unless I put it there...” she pulled out her cellphone and went through her contacts quickly, hitting call when she reached Derek’s name.

“We heard a shot,” Derek’s voice said by way of greeting.

“Well a hello and good night to you too,” she snapped. “Chris got off a shot but it got a swipe. He needs to go to the hospital and I’m not in a good position to split my focus right now.”

“Where are you?” the voice grunted and she heard the wind through the line.

“About a mile south of the preserve entrance.” The line went dead and she put the phone away. “You got a good enough hold on that?” she asked, gesturing to the wound and he made a face.

“Can you tear the sleeve from my jacket?” he held up his supporting arm and she made light work of the clothing dismemberment. The sleeve was folded and quickly put in place. They were silent for the next few minutes while they waited. “I got a look with the muzzle flash,” he admitted and she sighed.

“Come on then,” she said, sitting down crosslegged beside him.

“Female, young, blonde hair - either dirty or dark blonde. Eyes were yellow, signifying a rabid, teeth sharp, pointed, claws,” he gestured to himself. “Evident.” She snorted despite the severity of the situation. “She looked like she’s barely out of junior high,” he sighed. “13... 15 tops.”

“Shit,” Stiles cursed, a hand scrubbing over her face. “I really hoped it’d be older,” she admitted.

“Is there anything that can be done?”

“You know the answer to that already,” she shook her head. “The moon’s barely at half mast, how the fuck are they forcing the turn?”

“Maybe keeping her indoors, away from the light of it for nights on end?” she was shaking her head though.

“That wouldn’t work,” she sighed. “At least I don’t think it would, there aren’t really any studies on the subject. Would silver work?” she asked but he just shook his head, no idea. “The answer is going to be really simple and I’m going to curse myself for not realising it sooner. It always happens.”

The sound of a wolf’s howl stopped any further theorising and they both waited, armed, for the cavalry to arrive.

In the hospital an hour later, Stiles is stood by a window in one of the family waiting rooms, the entire pack camped out somewhere behind her, probably making pillow forts out of the damn furniture.

“I can see why they’re all terrified of you,” she heard Scott’s voice speak up, louder than it would were he speaking to someone closer and she finds him in the reflection in the window, eyebrow raised, ‘elaborate, peasant’ written on her face for all to see. “When we found you guys... he had his gun drawn, sure, but you... we couldn’t get a read on you at all. Couldn’t see your face, could barely see you, but at the same time... I don’t know. You’re like this overwhelming force - this presence that screamed danger, stay away.” he shrugged. “I can see why the world is terrified of you, is all.”

“I don’t hunt to instill terror, Scott,” she said easily. “I hunt to keep the peace, protect innocent souls, punish guilty ones. A healthy dose of respect and good old fashioned wariness are just bonus side-effects.” She saw Allison rubbing her face against Scott’s shoulder, instinctively seeking comfort he was all too happy to give. Considering she wasn’t a wolf, the movement was interesting. Stiles filed it away and straightened. “Well, as much as I adore hospitals, I’ll leave y’all to it.”

“S-” Scott started and stopped, scowled before starting again. “Red,” he gritted out and she obliged, pausing to listen. “You’re welcome to stay,” he offered. She arched an eyebrow and gave a pointed look towards Derek, who was in fact the alpha. Scott flushed but remained steadfast in his offer. “Whether you like it or not, you’re connected to this pack and you have a vested interest in what happens to it-”

“Don’t go there, Scotty,” she sang and he sighed.

“Just... the offer’s there, okay?” he huffed, frustrated and she nodded.

“I hear you. And I’m still going. I actually hate hospitals, I especially hate this hospital, and this floor, and this damn ward. And I absolutely hate this room. So I’m going. Goodnight,” she nodded to everyone and walked out, leaving the door open a touch because even though she wasn’t technically pack, Derek wouldn’t let her go home alone. And true to form, he was beside her when she hit the elevator call button. “I’m a big girl, D,” she murmured and he swayed towards her, bumping their shoulders together.

“Maybe I need a ride,” he offered and that was that. When they got in the empty elevator, he scowled at the door of the waiting room, still visible for their position. “You scratch my car and you will regret it, Erica,” he growled as the door closed. Stiles snorted.

They were in the car and driving out of the lot before he spoke up again.

“How old?” he asked her and she sighed.

“Barely a teenager,” she heard him curse and agreed completely.

--- - - - ---

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked Derek as they sat together on her sofa.

“What do you mean?” he asked, stupidly expressive eyebrow arched and she waved her hand in his direction.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re doing something, and it involves me. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Stop it.” His lips twitched and her eyes narrowed. She knew he was up to something!

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said easily.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, now explain it to me because I don’t.” He just snorted. “You’re... something! I don’t know,” she huffed.

“What, Red... What could I possibly be doing?” he gave an exaggerated eye roll and turned his entire head to stare at her. “Cooperating? Working with you? Protecting my pack, adjacent and extended? Trying to build up a relationship with the single most influential hunter in the entire United States, shamelessly take advantage of the fact that not only is your father a member of my pack, but you also had a relationship with my sister and former Alpha? What, Stiles, could I be doing that might make you suspicious of my motives?” She glared at him silently for a long, long time before it clicked.

The pieces in her mind fell into place, the puzzle she’d been trying to work out since she’d arrived finally worked itself out and she slumped in her seat, eyes closed, hand resting over them.

“You’re trying to give me a reason to stay in Beacon Hills,” she said and not surprisingly, he didn’t reply. “For my dad, for the pack, for its safety... I don’t know, but whatever the reason, you’re trying to get me to stay local.” Again, he didn’t speak, just sat, waiting. “You know how much I hate it here, right? You know the relationship with my dad I’ve sacrificed because I couldn’t come back-”

“You’re here now,” he reasoned.

“I’m on a hunt,” she reasoned right back.

“You came back to Beacon Hills long before you knew the attack was supernatural - long before you even suspected it. Look, I’m not saying make a decision now, I’m not even asking you to make a decision. I’m not asking anything. I’m telling you, there are more important things in the world than hunting the things that go bump in the night.”

“It’s not about the hunt, Derek!” she snapped. “It’s about the lives I save doing it!”

“And that’s commendable, I respect you for doing what you do, so did Laura... but that’s not all there is in life.”

“It’s better than spending my days in this vatt of festering bad memories,” she sneered, the expression feeling ugly to even herself, and turned away from him.

“You missed your dad’s wedding,” he said. “You’re not around when he needs something other than his wife-”

“Don’t you dare sit there and lecture me about family, Derek Hale,” she spat.

“What? Because I don’t have one?” he countered. “Because I got my family killed because I was a stupid fucking kid who got a boner over a pretty girl? Because I couldn’t keep my sister safe from our uncle?” he snarled and she stared, eyes widening.

“You still believe that, don’t you?” she breathed but he just gritted his teeth.

“We’re not talking about my shortcomings,” he ground out. “You have a family here, you have alive, flesh and blood family, who loves you and wants you home more-”

“What’s going on with my dad?” she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. She’d asked the question so quickly he didn’t have a hope in hell, wolf reflexes or not, of hiding the flinch the question provoked. “I know about the heart attack, I know about the gunshot, I know about the doctor telling him to slow down - what don’t I know about my father, Derek?” She watched the mixed emotions wash over his face in quick succession; wariness, fear, nervousness, hope, determination, faith... and so many more, and just waited.

“Scott doesn’t know,” he said quietly and she felt her entire body tense. “I only know because I overheard them talking about it when I went over to the house a few months ago. They realised I’d overheard and asked me to keep quiet. It was their decision, I respected it.”

“You haven’t told me what secret you’re keeping,” she murmured, barely whispering.

“He’s getting treatment,” he went on as if he hadn’t even heard her talk. “He’s fighting.”

“Tell me,” she demanded, watching him lick his suddenly dry lips.

“It’s cancer,” he finally said the word and she choked on her breath, hand coming to rest loosely over her mouth as she stated at Derek, almost unseeing. “I knew before I knew you were his daughter,” he went on. “But since you told me who you were, I... I just thought, if you-” he stopped himself, frustrated at being unable to find the right words.

“You thought if you gave me a reason to stay, one that wasn’t my dad having cancer, I’d be around in case he lost the fight,” she said quietly, not really looking at him at all. “I wouldn’t miss anymore time with him than I already have...” he grimaced, but nodded his head. “Laura knew about Kate - not the details I know now, but she knew,” she said and he choked on a breath of his own. “She was your big sister,” she went on. “It was her job to know everything about you and either use it to help you or to make your life hell - a completely natural sibling thing to do, so I hear. She didn’t think you were stupid though.” She blinked, refocusing on his face again, ignoring the tear tracks running down her cheeks. “And she didn’t blame you. She never told you that, but she never blamed you.”

“How...” he couldn’t finish the question but she knew what he wanted to say.

“One night when you were out, I went back to your apartment and we got talking about the past. It came up.”

They were both silent as they thought about their respective families.