Bailiwick 

noun | bai - li -wick | meaning - one's sphere of operations or particular area of interest. 

06; Hunter Training 

The room Miles Argent had been staying in was perfectly tidy. Not a thing was out of place, and every morning as he woke he got up, and began folding up the blankets and tucking in the sheets until the bed was perfectly made. He fluffed the pillows, angling them against the head of the bed. As he stepped back from his daily masterpiece, he'd scan the room for something to be out of place. Normally, nothing was. His room resembled one of a hotel. It was decorated, clean, and homely feeling, but not in any way actually a home. There were no personal items, nothing to show someone was actually living there. 

Miles, of course, hardly noticed how odd it was for a teenage boy to have no posters, trophies, or even books out in the perfectly kept room. Coming out of the bathroom after his morning shower with a towel tightly tucked around his waist, he sat on on the edge of the bed. Next to him were a pile of folded clothes he picked out for the day, but he didn't move to put them on just yet. Instead, he slid his hand slowly under his pillow, his finger tips connecting with a piece of cold metal, curling carefully around the sharp edges as he slowly drug it into view. 

The young hunter turned the arrow head in his hands carefully. He'd been keeping it under his pillow since the night he'd found it. He had yet to tell anyone else of his discovery, and he hadn't been able to make himself address Allison about it either. The entire situation was eating him alive. In fact, he could hardly make himself look his grandfather in the eyes. Miles knew he couldn't keep the act up much longer, but he didn't know what he wanted to do about it. 

If he told the others, he'd be turning in the  closest thing he had to a friend in the entire town. If he confronted Allison, he would have to hear her admit that she sabotaged a hunt, making her out to be someone he didn't actually know. After all the rumors he'd heard about Kate, who he had trusted more then anyone, Miles didn't know if he could handle another betrayal like that. 

But then there was the option of not doing anything about the situation, like he was right now, which made him feel like a complete traitor. That was just about the worst feeling he'd ever felt, and he wanted more then anything for it to go away. All the work he'd done to be treated like an equal in the eyes of his family, only to risk throwing it all away for what? A cousin he thought he knew? 

Miles slid the arrowhead back under his pillow, wishing all his problems and worries would slid away with it. But they didn't. They weighed down on his shoulders, making them ache along with his head as he forced himself to get dressed. 

Just as Miles finished with the buttons on his shirt, a short, firm knock came from his closed bedroom door. Miles muttered a 'come in'.

Chris Argent entered the bedroom. Unsurprisingly, he found not a thing out of place, the room looking just as it did before they'd let Miles come and stay with them. The only noticeable difference the the room was the stern looking teenage standing straight, his hands behind his back and his head high in the air. 

"At ease, soldier," Chris joked, his voice lacking a tone of humor. "Are you ready for today?" 

"You mean, am I ready to fake kidnap Allison?" Miles picked up his phone and wallet off of his night stand and slid them into one of his pockets. Then, he picked up a pocket knife and slid it into the other pocket. 

There was something about the way Miles had spoken that set off a paternal alarm in Chris' head. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something had seemed off about his nephew recently, but Miles never seemed to trust him enough to tell him. "Miles," Chris said slowly. "Are you sure you're up for today?" 

"Yeah, if it means I get to put off my stupid world history paper." It wasn't quite the answer Chris had wanted, but it was truthful nonetheless. 

"School got you stressed?" 

"It's school." Miles shrugged, the shortness in his voice telling Chris that he was done with the conversation. He went to his closet, hastily pulling out a worn aviator jacket before exiting the bedroom, leaving no one for Chris to frown out now except for his own reflection in the mirror. 

The walls of the burnt house creaked uncomfortably as Miles leaned against them. He didn't enjoy spending the evening in the house his classmates had spread rumors about, all of which involved his apparently murderous aunt. Having nothing better to do, his mind replayed everything he'd heard and read. Innocent lives, taken by Kate Argent. And he was standing in the very place it had happened. Normally, he wouldn't let things like that get to him, but now that he was at the Hale house that was just about all he could think about. 

There was only one other thing that Miles Argent's brain could process for the time being, and that was the arrowhead in his back pocket. He'd brought it along with him, telling Chris he had gotten what Allison had needed for her training but not telling his uncle where he'd gotten it from. He thought he was doing the right thing not turning in Allison just yet, but Miles was just going to have to wait and see if he really was. 

"Allison," hissed the faked voice over of Derek Hale. "Do you ever wonder what happens if you get bitten? What your father would do? What he'd have to do?" 

Miles knew that in the next room his cousin had to be freaking out. He remembered when he'd done this Argent ritual, baptizing you so you can officially start your path as a hunter of the supernatural. 

By now, Allison must've noticed the restraints tying her to her chair, and she was probably doing everything in her power to squirm out of them, which would never work. But she hadn't realized that yet, she was too busy worrying that she'd been taken by a vengeful werewolf, and that her dad was there with her, his life just as equally in danger. Or so she thought. 

Miles heard a loud crack, a sound he knew to be wood splitting. He'd done this enough times to know that was his cue. Pushing himself off the wall, Miles entered the equally charred room on the other side. 

When Miles walked in, Chris Argent was pulling the cloth that had been acting as a gag from his mouth. Without actually looking to his nephew, Chris extended a hand in the direction of the teenage boy. Miles knew what this meant, and handed his uncle the phone controlling the voice over. Chris tapped on the pause button. In this lighting, the older hunter looked almost sinister, and Miles couldn't help but wonder if that was what Kate had looked like when she set fire to the house. 

"One bite," Chris said as he stood up, picking up from where Derek Hale had been cut off. "And everything changes."

Allison's struggling stopped, and instead she angrily glared at her father as she tried to even out her breathing. Once her father pulled her own gag out of her mouth, she reeled away from him. "Is this how we're going to do father daughter talks from now on?"

"No, this is how we're going to train you," Chris answered. Allison closed her eyes and took a deep breathe. Chris turned away from his daughter and instead looked to his nephew. "You said you wanted a part in this Miles. Go on, train." 

An emotion other then anger flickered through Allison's eyes as she turned them too Miles. She looked hurt that he would want to take part of this, that she'd want to do this to her, but that must've been because forcing her into training had seemed like a better idea then turning her in. Maybe he could make a hunter out of her, like the family did to her, and everything that had happened before that could be marked as an amateur mistake. And if not, well, Miles wasn't going to take her look of betrayal to heart, because he had every reason to return that look to her. 

Miles waited until Chris left the room with the others before he began speaking. "Do you know why we use arrows?" 

"They can't heal until it's taken out," Allison answered immediately. 

Out of his pocket, Miles pulled the broken off arrowhead. He held it out in front of Allison. "Look familiar, Al?" 

"You were going to kill him." 

"That's our job," Miles explained in a hard tone. "If he is putting the lives of others in danger, that's what we have to do. That's what we we're born to do. You can't be getting in the way of that just because you don't want to see some kid die, you understand? We can't make mistakes like that, because when the rest of the family finds out we go against our training, there's hell to pay, got it? We stick to monster killing, no matter how hard it gets, because that's just how it's supposed to go." 

 "So you've made a mistake like that too?" Allison raised an eyebrow, and Miles realized she was more perceptive then he thought. "Is this what Gerard taught you? He taught you that killing Isaac was the right choice?" 

"It wasn't an easy choice," Miles defended their grandfather. He moved around Allison until he was standing behind her. "Our family doesn't just kill, though. From generation to generation, we pass down the task to save lives. Us guys, we're trained to fight wars, we're the ones who start the violence. But the hard decisions are supposed to be left up to the women, like you. Men are forged into soldiers, and women to leaders." 

Miles didn't need to say the rest of his speech, Allison understood what he meant. If she wanted to be making decisions, to be taken seriously in this family she had to go through the training just like Miles and every other Argent hunter. As Miles pressed the arrow into one of her tied up hands, she silently accepted it. 

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Miles pulled up a timer and started it. "You training begins now." 

With that, he left Allison, walking outside to wait for her to free herself. 

Miles leaned against Allison's car, making small talk with Bennett, a fellow hunter. Bennett was only a few years older then Miles, making him not the worst person to talk to. He seemed to understand Miles and his decisions a bit better then the older hunters did, and didn't hold a single slip up against him. He was actually the first hunter Miles had met who was genuinely fascinated in the brunette's adventures in Europe, instead of questioning how true the tales of his hunts actually were. It almost made Miles feel like a normal teenager, having a normal teenage conversation about hunting down a pack of werewolves who ate the hearts of its victims in England. 

"In America, authorities are quick to plaster the killings of something supernatural as the works of a serial killer, which isn't so far from the truth," explained Miles. "But in a lot of countries, even in Europe, they will believe just about anything else. They think Serial killing is an American Phenomenon, like a trend we invented just for the hell of it." 

"Seriously?" Bennett laughed as he sat back on his parked motorcycle. "Man, I can't believe you've traveled the world like that. You've got to be one of the most experienced guys I've met. I'm actually intimidated by you." 

Miles fought off a prideful grin, and instead nodded gratefully. "Doesn't seem to get me too much influence over the others." 

"That's 'cause there jealous," Bennett announced, acting as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, but Miles only furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "You're a legacy. I've heard the stories about you're old man, of the things he did and killed. They all want to be as big and bad as him, and they don't like some young blood that they know can easily follow in the footsteps of his dad beating them too it." 

Bennett's words made it seem like Miles' dad was some admirable war hero, but they didn't fill him up with any sense of pride. All Miles could think of were the nights his father had stumbled in covered in blood, wordlessly heading up to the showers to wipe away the carnage. Why would anyone be jealous that that was Miles' destiny? He'd never really thought about it until now, but suddenly, Miles was realizing that was what he was fighting for his life to amount to. At least his father had been respected when he'd been a blood-bathed killer. 

The stairs of the Hale house creaked as Allison rushed down them. It was dark, but Miles could see her face well enough to know it wasn't pleased. He pulled out his phone and stopped the timer. 

"Congrats," Bennett announced. 

"For what? It took me two and half hours." Allison looked at the phone, but not at Miles. Miles didn't take it personally.

"It took me three when I did it," Bennett gave Allison a small smile before turning his head towards Miles. "How long did it take you, boy wonder? Thirty minutes?" 

Miles tried to shake off the idea of that nickname ever catching on. "It took me an hour and a half," He corrected swiftly. 

"Alright, but weren't you like ten?" 

"Eleven." 

Allison couldn't stop herself from looking up at her cousin then. "They put you through this when you were eleven?" 

"I wanted it, more then anything. You'll see what I mean," Miles promised. He jangled Allison's car keys in front of his younger cousin. "Are you driving home, or am I?" 

Without a word, Allison snatched them away and got into her car. Miles gave Bennett a small nod of farewell before he hopped in the passenger side. The car ride was silent. Allison was upset that her cousin had tied her up and made her think she was going to die, and Miles was upset that she still hadn't tried explaining herself for the arrowhead, and neither cousin was ready to talk about their feelings just yet. 

Hi, hey hello. Sorry for this filler chapter, but it's important for Miles' future character development. Please, bare with me. More Lydia action will come! 

So summer is officially here! Hooray! Unfortunately, now the school's out, I have a job and am working mon-fri so my time for writing is still fairly limited. I'm trying to write, and this story, Bloody Lining, and Cue the Pain are my main priorities, so fear not, when I update, it'll most likely be this story! 

IMPORTANT QUESTION: so it's been bothering me recently that Miles and Stiles have such similar names, and so I kinda want to change Miles' name to Milo. I'd like to know, what exactly are your thoughts on the matter?