chapter sixteen.

STILES THRUSTS DEREK'S loft door open, not noticing he had left it unlocked unlike Arthur inspecting it, it doesn't look broken into. Maybe he'd left and forgotten to lock it, it doesn't sound believable but that's all he had for the moment. Hopefully Derek is off somewhere in paradise, God knows he needs it.

"They said they'd meet us here." Lydia murmurs stepping down steps followed by Arthur and Stiles glimpsing around the empty home. A low grunt and groan snaps Arthur's head behind him: the twins held Scott's arms and launched him down the steps.

"Yikes." Arthur grimaces. He leads the human and unknown creature near a support beam away from supernatural brawl, the mischief smirks on their faces makes him uneasy but keeps his lips shut tolerating them do it their way.

Aiden flips onto the lower ground tauntingly, Ethan follows landing a dig in Scott's cheek, Aiden does the same on the other side then to his stomach making him double over. Ethan forces him to straighten and traps his arms over his head as Aiden pummels his stomach, his fist smashes into his jaw knocking him to the ground. Arthur bits his lip trying to control him from intervening, he's positive they're not going this for the crack.

"I thought you guys were gonna teach me to roar." Scott wheezes, blood dripping down his jaw. Fingers snake his bicep tightly, he assumes it isn't Stiles. Although he can be quite clingy when afraid.

"We are." Aiden confirms, standing over the defeated Alpha. "You do it by giving in."

"Giving in and letting go." Ethan adds. "That's how Deucalion taught us control." His fingers clench Scott's top hauling his body up ignoring groans of ache spewing past his lips.

"Hey, you know, that's funny. I've actually tried something like this one time using a heart monitor and lacrosse balls." Stiles rencounters humored. All eyes on him obviously preferring he kept his lips shut, Stiles waves them off. "But you're right, beating the living crap out of him is probably a lot better."

"That's actually the plan? You kick my ass?" Scott asks, his expression a mixture skeptical and bewilderment holding himself up. It sounds more like revenge to Arthur, like an ulterior motive.

"You're afraid to turn." Aiden reminds.

"We're gonna make you turn. Then you kick our asses." Ethan explains.

"And then you roar." He quips. Parting his lips a bone chilling roar escaping flaming his eyes steel blue. Arthur's eyes widen, remarking how intimating that roar suddenly made him. "You don't think you can let go with us?"

"You think you're going to hurt us?" Ethan taunts, standing in front of him.

"Come on, McCall." Aiden mocks, strolling behind him. "Give it your all." He shoves the Alpha forward and he stumbles into his brother.

"We can always heal." Scott throws a punch but is blocked by Ethan who returns it to the stomach. He grunts doubling over.

"You're an Alpha. You want to roar like one, you've got to give in full throttle." Aiden advises. "You've got to be the monster. Become the beast."

"Become everything you're afraid of. That's what gives you power. It gives you strength." Ethan states. Scott tries again but is shut down when Aiden slams his fists into his back pummeling his chest to the floors. Arthur winces notices the droplets of blood on the ground.

"Giving into it doesn't make you the bad guy." Aiden says.

"So long as you can control it." Ethan counters.

"Sometimes control's a little overrated." Aiden retorts, his foot slams into Scott's jaw, he grunts body collapsing.

"Come on, Scott. Fight back." Stiles murmurs, praying for him win a fight for once.

"What if I can't control it?" Scott confesses, climbing on his knees clutching his stomach, blood coating his chin. "What if I can't turn back?"

"Then it takes over. You become Malia." Ethan answers, his figure towering Scott's. "You get further and further away from being human. You turn into an animal. Or worse."

"You turn into Peter." Aiden replies, almost satisfied with the terror crossing his features. Heartbeats later, Scott's back up with determination wiping the blood off his chin a growl ripples past his lips and sprints forward. A groan slips pasts his lips when his back smashes into the table behind Aiden, he stomps on top and pummels his face repeatedly.

Arthur clenches his eyelids shut fist pressed against his lips hoping for some miracle that Scott would get back up and beat their asses like an Alpha. Lydia's head falls on his shoulder and Stiles turns away completely refusing to watch their friend get beat.

"What?" Aiden growls when Ethan grips his fist, stopping him from clocking a defeated Scott anymore. "I thought we were helping him."

"You help too much." Ethan mumbles flickering his gaze to the fallen werewolf. Aiden follows taking a moment to look at what he done, in remorse he jumps off him stepping to the side as the three friends gather around unsure what to do next.

Plan A, a failure.

* * *

A 1949 CHEVROLET skids to a stop four feet away from smashing into the silver rusty chains meant to keep people out of Beacon Hills Preserve. This is it, their plan to save a girl in a coyote's body may not be full proof but when is it ever? Winging it halfway is their pack specialty. Lydia's knuckles white gripping the door handle in horror, Arthur huffs noticing this.

"How have you never gotten a ticket before?" Lydia wonders, glancing outside she isn't astonished that they're first to arrive since all the vehicle they drive by were blurs of different colors.

"It wasn't that bad." Arthur retorts, his fingers twists the keys out of the engine turning the ancient car off and shoots her a 'seriously' glance.

"Arthur, I felt my soul leave my body." Lydia counters slowly, shooting him the same look. Arthur spots a green, white and black dirt bike followed by Roscoe in its beauty, behind him Lydia finds a sleek black car stopping besides them.

"You're very dramatic today." The blue eyed notes, eyes trail down her out for the first time today. "You also look cute."

She scoffs clicking the door open. "I look cute everyday."

A smile blossoms on his lips following her out, mumbling, "No doubt." Outside, Stiles slams his Jeep close, Scott places his helmet in between his dirt bike handles, Allison and Isaac meet in the middle.

"Anyone else think we might be doing more harm than good?" Lydia wonders, shoulder touching Arthur standing on the side of his car, her lips pressed together glancing at their hesitant expressions.

"We're trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter." Scott reminds, contradicting her question.

"Actually, we're trying to keep a guy from killing a coyote who is actually his daughter, who we don't know how to change from a coyote back to his daughter." Isaac corrects bluntly. Arthur doesn't bother saying anything at this point, choosing to tap his fingers in rhythm on his roof.

"And again with the not helping." Stiles complains leaning against the door of his Jeep.

Scott sighs ignoring Isaac and turns to Allison, "Did you bring it?" He asks. The hunter flicks open her trunk and reveals a tranquilizer.

No words are whispered loud enough for the humans to hear, Isaac and Scott hear it clearly snapping their heads in the direction of a hill, before either could process Isaac takes off followed by Allison and Scott hopes on his bike, Arthur hops behind him shunning the thought of him fighting a werecoyote on his own especially when he's afraid to turn.

"Arthur -" The Alpha was about to protest but is intrupted by the human.

"Drive, Scott!" A helmet plops between his legs and seconds later they're racing down an unclear trail in the forest deaf to Stiles demanding for answers. With the helmet loosely secured, Arthur could only depend on his grip around Scott to keep him safe. His mind wonders off to what could have set warnings in their heads: her howl? And had Mr. Tate already found her? Or a gunshot? All three made him more anxious for Malia who done nothing wrong besides ( un )intensional slaughtered her mother and younger sister. Everybody makes mistakes, maybe not killer ones but still unintentionally, he hopes.

Scott's head collides into his loose helmet knocking him out of him mind making his grip loosen, Scott's hands fly to his ears trying to block something out his bike jerks at the lack control. His body tumbling chest hitting the ground, cursing he lays down in ache. The helmet topples off somewhere, his head colliding into a tree root erupting waves of irritation the side of his temple along with his left shoulder. His vision blurs, and comes together when a hand clamps on his shoulder.

"Arthur, can you stand?" Scott questions, doe eyes laced with concern aiding him in sitting up but his hands are pushed off.

"I'm fine, go, go save Malia." He orders meeting his eyes for a few second needles pricking every inch of temples. His jaw clenched clutching his eyelids shut. "Before her father finds her. I'll be fine." The Alpha hesitates before nodding and takes off leaving him alone.

Using a tree as a ladder, Arthur hoists himself up grunting when his vision blurs he blinks preferring not to see doubles. Reopening them his shoulders jerk back slamming into a soft tree alarmed by the eyes staring back at him.

"Alaric?" The words slips past his lips bewildering himself even, he shakes his head. "But, but you're not dead.." The last time he's seen him was when he was ten years old, best seven years of his life. He hasn't changed, the same messy black hair in need of a chop, shivering blue eyes Sage inherited, a pointed nose and pointy lips. He didn't changed.

"I should be after what you done." Alaric retorts, a brisk laugh spewing his lips, Arthur dodging the hand he tries to drop on his shoulder. "But it's all in past, dad is here now."

Nostrails flared and balls his hands into fists preventing himself from lashing out, does he honestly think he can walk in and out of his life whenever he pleases? "You lost that title the moment you walked out the door." His throbbing temple forgotten.

"You drove me away, Arthur, don't you remember?" Alaric reminds, a smile taking over his lips. His eyes widen at the accusation. "All the arguing, constant need to be taken care of but look at you now, you're a fighter."

He wants something. That's the only reason he's texts, the only reason he fills up their voicemails. "You're here becomes you need something? I've got shit to take care of, and that does not include you so stay the fuck away from me." He turns to leave but his fingers curl his wrist keeping him in place.

"All I need is for you to let me in. All the blood and demons will go away. Dad will protect you." Alaric promises, behind him tugging him back. "Just let your old man in, Arthur."

The demons are dead bodies from his past, how would he know this? Not even Scott knows about what his nightmares truly are about. His face broke out in realision, the door is still ajar letting anyone and thing wonder inside planting seeds in his head for their personal gain. Does that mean Alaric isn't really here? Arthur scoffs, always a disappointment wherever he goes.

"You're not real." Arthur reveals, yanking his wrist free nearly stumbling over a tree root and faces his sperm donor. "Alaric never visits, he doesn't even remember where we live or how I look like because he doesn't give a fuck. So do me a favor and get out of my freaking head!"

"I'd care more if you let me. I'm doing all I can, how do you expect to keep that girlfriend of yours if you're ruining everything ⏤ " A blow to the mouth forces his head back his teeth clamps on his tongue.

"You're never here so how the fuck could you know!?" Arthur rages, his chest inches away from his father compelling himself to keep calm but there's something about his face that makes it punchable. "I'm fine, I don't need you so go back to where the hell you came from. My friends want me, you know the ones who don't think I ruin everything and stayed with me." Chest heavingArthur chooses to stomp away then fight a figment of his imagination his outrage controlling his footing.

A roar ripples the air sending a sense of euphoria up his bones overpowering his fury. A beam grows on his lips inhaling the rosemary smell of the forest. "My best friend done that, bloody hell." He mutters, glancing back he's meet with trees soul in sight. He releases a breath of relief, the tension from his shoulders flowing away leaving a jump in his step.

* * *

"SCREAMING?" THE BLUE EYED repeats on the phone, turmoil lacing his tone eyes squinting at his laptop's bright light hidden inside his room surrounded by well needed warmth and comfort scrolling through Google after a long day of being superheroes. "You're superpower is screaming?"

Lydia sighs on the other end, russeling heard in the background. "Yes, banshees screams near death."

Arthur purses his bottom lip nodding glancing at his closed blinds hiding the night sky and anything else lurking from peeking inside. "Certainly not something you want to hear before bedtime." He jokes, clicking the website titled BANSHEE101 prying for it not to be another clickbait. "Have you tried talking to your mom?"

"I'd rather keep her in the dark about all this, it's too messy." The cherry red replies, surpressing a yawn. "Do you know if Malia got home safe?"

"Yeah, she's safe and well, her dad knows nothing about her being a trapped as a werewolf." Arthur answered, rubbing exhaustion from his eyes. She has been put on hold for far too long, he wants to help her know as much as she can about her hidden self. "It was a tear jerker, Stiles claimed, and I heard he saved your life."

"He did." Lydia confirms.

"Seriously? I thought he was lying." Arthur mumbles. A smile tugs on his lips hearing her light laughs. "Are you alright?"

"I will be, once I find something that goes with orange." Lydia grumbles.

"I'm searching for groundbreaking information and you're color coordinating your clothes around 11 at night?" Arthur says, eyebrows arched fighting a laughter of bewilderment.

"This is groundbreaking, Arthur, I look fantastic in orange but I can't only wear orange, it's too bright." The cherry red complains, he can picture her nose crinkling at the thought.

He sighs dramatically and types what color looks well with orange, clicking on the first website he answers, "Blue?"

"Ooh, why didn't I think of that?" She wonders, russeling erupts on her side and Arthur assumes she searching for something blue. It should occur to him to sleep early days before school but something ( Keeping Up With The Kardashians, a guilty pleasure ) always stop him from completing his goal, at least his homework has been done. "Why do I still have this? Ooh, that's, not what I'm looking for. Where have you been?"

Laughter bubbles up his throat hearing her mumbles, "You alright over there?" He teases, turning his laptop off the night, his cotton pjs protecting him the brisk air.

"My closet is messier than my life." Lydia answers huffing. "A beautiful mess I am currently drowning in."

"Ehh, I'd come and rescue you but I'd get lost in your gigantic closet." Arthur whispers slipping inside outside his bedroom and downstairs straight to the kitchen.

"It's not that gigantic."

"Lydia," the fridge radiates a bright light making him finch squinting his eyes. "You could turn it into a whole kitchen and sitting room."

She hums countering. "Now who's the dramatic one." His eyes rolls huffing, dipping milk inside the bowl of cornflakes. "Are you.. eating right now?"

Two spoons of cornflakes shoves into his mouth, he chews. "No." Her silence lasts nearly a lifetime makes him crave uncomfortable. "Stop judging me, I'm fragile." Giggles bubbles past her lips, he rolls his eyes playfully continuing to eat.

"Just don't go sleep until at least thirty minutes has pasted." Lydia advises.

"Promise, good night."

"Night." She hangs up. Arthur adds more cornflakes and milk before trudging upstairs, the sound of keys jingling behind makes him pause in his steps. Sage is in her room sleeping to the sound of rain, his mother is snoring in the room diagonal from his, so who the hell is at the door with a house key? The dark shields him chewing more cornflakes into his mouth as the door clicks unlocked.

A familiar lanky figure slides inside, his eyebrows pinch together in bewilderment trying to decide if this is better knocking on his window. At least he's using a door, but still, "What the hell, Stiles, it's nearly twelve?!" A girlish shriek slips his lips slamming his body into the door like it'd swallow him whole clutching the door handle.

"Christ, Arthur, why are you standing in the dark?"

"Why are you breaking into my house?"

"Erm, technically it's not breaking in if I have a key." He raises a silver key, bizarre because there's only four made: his sister's, himself, mother and spare hidden outside for emergencies - it's gold.

Did he actually? "You made yourself a key." He pauses eyebrows creased trying to figure out how he feels about this, it insanely weird but it's Stiles. "Disturbed but not surprised, what are you doing here?" He takes another spoon full hoping to finish it before it gets soggy.

He blinks at him. "You serious? We have a job to do and you're not dressed!?"

"Ooh, mischief night." Arthur recounts his head falling back, remembering his constant rant about how they have to do something wild or they'll regret it for the rest of their lives but its nearly twelve, he's had his night snack and doesn't feel like changing out of his cotton pjs. "I'll pass."

He turns climbing upstairs but Stiles grips his elbow making milk spill on the stairs, he groans but Stiles pays no attention. "No, c'mon Arthur, When was the last time we did something normal?"

He stares at him blankly pretending not to think about. The last time the three of them hung out was hunting for a murdering werewolf or a dead body, he shivers realizing how gruesome they're lives has taken a turn for. They need this. "I'm in but I'm not changing."

* * *

BREAKING INTO SCHOOL was the easy part, figuring out where to start? Now that's a challenge, there are so many teachers who deserve more tricks than treats but it's hard and time consuming to break into each teacher he loathes. Stiles may have picked the best one yet.

"Get your ass down here now." Stiles commons Scott, holding his phone in between himself and Arthur. The blue eyed, this time, holds the flashlight guiding them through the boys locker room. "We have a job to do."

"Dude, I'm already in bed." Scott complains. "And aren't we getting a little old for this?"

"We do this for Coach." Stiles reasons.

"I thought we did this to Coach." Scott counters.

"You're getting off track, Scott, you know he needs this." So Arthur might have changed the 'us' into a 'he' not that big of a deal. "He'll love it!"

"But it's the middle of the night." Scott grumbles, his excuses weakening realizing both his friends were outside temping him to forget about his bed and join them.

"Which means it's after midnight and officially Mischief Night/Day, and, by perfectly awesome coincidence, it's also happens to be Coach's birthday." Stiles cheers. "So if you are not down here in five seconds, I will destroy you. Okay? And I mean five, four, three, two -"

"One." A third voice makes Stiles bounce off his feet, and Arthur raise his fist sighing in relief when it was only Scott.

"Two scares in one night." Arthur notes, a grin on his lips slapping the freckled boy's shoulder. "This really isn't your night."

His glare flickers between both boys wearing boyish grins, muttering, "I hate you both."

* * *

( A/N ) Idk if you've noticed but I adore this story
and ship Arthur & Lydia a looot ,,, ant ship names?

- TylerPoseForMe