LOVERS ROCK

chapter thirteen ; omega
[ season two - episode one ]

With a heavy head, Honey Carter sat in the office of Sheriff Stilinski, patiently awaiting the arrival of her maternal aunt Abigail. Abby was the only family she had left, therefore, the only option for a legal guardian to the now orphaned teenage girl. If not for the woman's willingness to pack up and move to her hometown to care for her niece, Honey didn't know where she would be. There was only so long she could stay at the Stilinski's house, avoiding the system. Even the Sheriff had limited control over that. It wouldn't have been long before child services claimed her, throwing her into a foster home until she was eighteen. Because nobody would be willing to adopt a teen, especially not one as damaged as her.

She hadn't seen her aunt Abigal for a long time, since she was 10, she believed. Her mother and aunt weren't on the best of terms before the older sister's death. Honey didn't quite know what had happened between them, it had never occurred to her to ask, now, she knew what the lack of questions cost her, the true answers she needed in life, the ones that could have kept her on the straight and narrow. That dream was long out of the window. She was surprised that Abigail had agreed to come back to Beacon Hills, and more so, that the woman had seemed willing to stay here, allowing her niece to continue her studies, as Stilinski quoted her, Abigail didn't want the teenage girl to have any more interruption to her life than she already had. 

Perhaps it had been a while since either of her parents had seen or heard from Abigail, but she'd always been told that Abby was the irresponsible one, the party girl, the loose cannon, the aunt to avoid in life, the one that Honey wouldn't miss not having in her life. She never thought that it would come down to this, relying on that same woman to save her from the system. 

"Do you remember much about my aunt?" Honey asked the man sitting at his desk, the blonde's voice seemed to startle him, he hadn't heard much of it in the past two days, she had been quiet, uncharacteristically quiet, but for reasons, he couldn't blame her for, he knew the effect of losing a loved one. And frankly, this was a death that he had been grieving too. 

"Not much," Stilinski admitted, Abigail was much younger than the likes of him and the blonde's parents, he only knew her from passing by, saying a quick hello whenever she was around. Most of the time, to nag her older sister. "She was a nice girl." He recalled, lacking much else to say in terms of the woman. "She seemed nice when I called her too. Seemed to really care about you."

Honey hummed, reverting back to the quietness she had shown the past two days since it had all fallen apart. Her life, that was. Everyone else seemed to be slowly picking up the pieces, she had had Stiles filling her in on that. Scott and Allison were still in their honeymoon phase, their relationship still forbidden too, perhaps more than ever, now, the two couldn't even be seen in public together, instead, the two would meet at midnight out on the preserve, hoping to spare a few hours with one another. The blonde couldn't help but smirk at Stiles when he told her what had happened to the two of them, not because it was funny to her, just familiar. Stiles had spent the better part of the two days at the hospital, watching over Lydia, he still felt bad for what had happened to her, all because he'd allowed her to wander off at the formal. 

Everyone at school had seemed to have heard about what had happened, she'd had a flurry of apologetic text messages, wishing their condolences over the weekend, even from people she had never heard of nor met. It was as though she was living her mother's death all over again, only this time she had been spared the heartache of experiencing a breakup at the same time. No matter the small differences between now and her mother's death in November, she found there was one important consistency, the company she kept during the mourning period. Her beloved pet. Stilinski had been kind enough to let Bee stay with them too, he knew how much the girl cared for her golden retriever, he was as much family to the girl as the aunt she waited for the arrival of. Perhaps even more so. 

"I, uh, I-" Stilinski choked on his words, both struggling to talk to the teenager, and to hold the tears of mourning his friend back. "I arranged for the flowers tomorrow. He's going to have the send-off he deserves. I promise." The man said with confidence, the blonde nodded, muttering a small thank you, she didn't know where to begin in planning a funeral. She was expected to give a eulogy, one that should have been written by now, but what was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to admit how much of a terrible daughter she had been in her father's final days? How she hoped that he and her mother were back together again? Watching over her somehow while she single-handedly continued to destroy her life. "And if there's ever anything you need, Honey, even when your aunt gets here, you know where to find me. And you're always welcome at our house. You have the key. Don't be afraid to use it." He reassured the girl who nodded with a fake, but appreciative smile, she was sure it would never come to that, at least she hoped that having to live with her aunt Abby wouldn't be so bad she resorted to crashing at the Stilinski's. 

The silence resumed between the two of them, a little more comfortable than it had been, only lasting a few minutes before the sound of a southern accent perked up their ears, a strange one to hear for Beacon Hills. It wasn't long before the two of them heard the accent introduce itself to one of the deputies, explaining that she was here to meet the Sheriff about her niece. Sheriff Stilinski immediately stood up to greet the blonde woman waiting in the bullpen, while the teen found herself unable to move, her stomach churning as the thought suddenly dawned on her.

What if Abigail was one of them? A hunter? Someone who followed the same code that managed to kill both of her parents?

"Oh, Honey Bee." Abigail's southern accent hummed in her ears as the woman looked at her, her eyes sorrowful despite the bright, welcoming smile she wore. She supposed it was fitting. It was a bittersweet moment, a reunion between families, just on the wrong terms. The woman opened her arms for a hug, encouraging the blonde to stand up as she accepted it. "Look at you." Abigail beamed as she pulled away from the hug, getting a good look at her niece, taking in the teenage girl's looks, awfully familiar looks. Not so different from her own. And certainly not too far from a teenage Emily. "You got the Brown genes. Thank God for that." The woman chortled, Honey and Noah shared a polite smile as the woman looked for a reaction, hoping she wasn't being brash. 

"I picked up the keys for the house on my way over, but I thought we could head out for lunch or something. Catch up, you know? Get to know each other better. I want to know everything about my beautiful niece." Abigail proposed, clearly making an effort to make the girl comfortable. The teenage girl nodded, agreeing to put in the effort too. "You coming, Sheriff? It's on me." Abigail's bright smile was hard to say no to, she was confident, a woman who clearly got what she wanted and whenever she wanted it. 

Noah looked toward the teenage girl, a pleading look in her eyes as she nodded, hoping that the man would accompany them, she wasn't sure she was quite ready to be left alone with her aunt, maybe when she had scoped the woman out more, figuring out her intentions, if there were any ulterior motives for her being so prepared to come back to Beacon Hills. 

Honey spent the entirety of the lunch trying to scope out her aunt, watching the woman closely, listening to what she told them about her life, her relationships, her work, hoping that there was something, anything that could give her an answer to her burning question. But the woman had seemed perfectly normal. Perfectly nice. The complete opposite of everything Honey had heard about the woman from her parents. But then again, her parents hadn't quite been as reliable as she once thought, but there had to be a reason for the lies, for the argument that stopped them talking for years on end. 

While she hadn't provided any insight into her personal life, Abigail opened the teenager's mind to questions she never thought to ask, questions that her parents typically avoided, and in turn, so did she. Abigail told the teenager about her grandparents, Daisy and Oliver, how when Emily had decided to leave Beacon Hills, they eventually chose to follow the same footsteps, only their move took them to Alabama, where Abigail had remained until today. The two of them had died a few years after the move, when the woman was just eighteen, Emily came to the funeral, that was news to Honey, she knew neither that her grandparents had died, or that her mother left to attend their funeral. There were a lot of things she didn't know, but she could see it now, Abigail was her key to finding out every bit of truth that she needed. 

After quite the intriguing lunch, Honey and Abigail returned to their new home, coated in a new-paint smell, the sign of a fresh beginning, for both of them. And Bee seemed to enjoy it too, the large down ran through the house, getting a sense of his new home, as happy as could be, which was more than what could be said for his teenage owner. Abby directed the teenager to her new bedroom, the walls still white, like a blank canvas, waiting for her personal touch. It seemed the woman had given that much more thought than she had, suggesting a pastel yellow theme, she had remembered it being the girl's favourite colour. Frankly, Honey was just glad to have a new room, somewhere that had never felt her dad's touch or would hold his scent, it was fresh, and she needed fresh. 

The blonde placed her bags on the fresh white sheets, sitting on the edge of the bed as Bee had rushed to join her, making sure to leave a trail of his blonde fur to claim his space. Abigail stared at the girl, admiring her as she sat quietly, taking it all in, the new life she would be living.

"I'm not sure what your mom told you about me, Peach. Probably a lot of bad things." She said in a low, regretful mumble. "But I promise, I'm not as bad as she made out. We just... you know, never exactly saw eye to eye." She explained vaguely, still not making it clear what had made the two of them stop talking all of those years ago. "I know I haven't been around for your life, and I wish that could have been different, but I'm going to make it up to you. I swear it." Abigail said, a sadness in her eyes, the only emotion other than happiness that the woman had shown besides happiness. Honey was worried that the woman was always happy, it could have got exhausting. "Now, get settled in. If you need me I'll be right down the hall." 

Just as Abigail began pulling the girl's bedroom door to, Honey stopped her, calling her name as she tried to build up the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing her since the arrival of the woman, only now, unlike in the presence of Noah, she could ask it. "Are you one of them?" She asked nervously, struggling to meet the woman's kind eyes. "A hunter?"

Abigail sighed, running a hand through her blonde hair. "Let's not get into that now, huh, Peach? You've had a rough couple of days, I think you deserve a break before we get into all that talk." It wasn't the answer she had hoped for, but Honey was willing to accept it. It left a door ajar, there would be a time for her to gain the answers she wanted from her aunt.

·❥·

Honey Carter had been staring at the white ceiling of her new bedroom for hours before she'd finally found a significant distraction- her ringing cell phone. When she saw Stiles' name there were a few things she was expecting from him, most of which involved an interrogation about the newest blonde in Beacon Hills. He had been just as curious to know what Abigail was like, and whether she knew what really went on in this town. Or perhaps he would be a good friend and ask her how she was doing, whether she needed company in a new, cold house. But those were things the boy simply hadn't had time for, no matter how much he wished their call could be regarding those things. 

No, this was more urgent. Lydia was missing. She had screamed from her hospital room where she was supposed to be taking a shower, but by the time Stiles, Melissa, and Lydia's father had pried their way into the bathroom, she was gone with nothing but an open window and a bloody robe left behind. Scott and Allison were already on the case too, the three of them were going to follow the scent of the bloody robe, but they needed more eyes, hers being one of them. Honey wouldn't usually be so fast to jump to the aid of Lydia Martin, or at least not three days ago, but things had changed now. And she might have even found herself caring about the redhead who she shared a beautiful frenemy relationship with. 

The blonde knew she couldn't do it alone, so she sought help from the one person that nobody else might have called, the one person that Scott in particular might not be so fond of speaking to, given the events of two nights ago. Derek. The two of them walked side by side through the darkened graveyard, unlike she, he didn't seem to be affected by the dark or the cold, he didn't particularly get cold, and he had the ability to see through the darkness, while she was clinging onto her jacket with three layers on and just about able to see the werewolf himself. Honey kept her phone in her hand, illuminating some of the ground she walked on, but more so hoping for a text from someone to say they had found Lydia, she wanted out of the graveyard as soon as she could. It was bad enough knowing she would be repeating this walk tomorrow afternoon for her father's funeral, only it would be daylight, surrounded by journalists desperate to get their story on the families who started the Hale fire. 

"Have you given any more thought to my offer?" Derek asked the girl with a raised brow. Honey nodded, still adamant about the answer she had given him when he first offered it, even so he'd told her to think about it, telling her that he would ask again when she'd had more time to think rather than moments after burying the body of her dead father. With the goals she had told him about, it only made sense. He didn't push the girl to accept, he knew that if the time come when she wanted it, she would ask, she was confident enough for that, and she knew werewolves well enough to know what it entailed. All it needed was her agreement. 

"Can I ask you something?" The blonde mumbled, approaching the topic carefully, but the Hale nodded, willing to indulge her thoughts. "If you hate the Argents so much for what they did, why don't you hate me?"

"Who said I don't?" Derek questioned, his tone serious, but the small smirk on his face told her he didn't, the way he acted, the fact he was here told her he didn't. Honey narrowed her eyes at the wolf, waiting for a serious answer to her question. Derek sighed, trying to figure out how he could put it into words. "Everyone has a choice. They chose to be hunters. Your parents chose to be too. But you didn't. You had a bad experience with werewolves, you could have become like them, you could have hated or even killed me, or Scott, but you didn't. You made that choice." He explained. "The Argents made their choice too. They deserve what's coming to them." Derek said, his tone suddenly hateful.

"You had a choice too." Honey pointed out, the wolf looked at her, unsure what she meant. "You could have let Peter live and given Scott the chance to be a normal teenager again. But you took that from him." She said with a shrug. "I mean, I wanted Peter dead as much as the next person, and maybe I would have done the same thing if it were up to me but... He deserved that chance to make things right." 

The Alpha didn't speak, whether it was because he believed she was right, or because he wasn't prepared to justify his actions to a teenage girl she wasn't sure, but either way, nothing else was spoken about the subject as the two silently agreed to turn back to the problem at hand. Honey was about to take another step before an arm stretched out in front of her, she first looked at the illuminated floor, assuming that she had almost put her foot in a grave, but the coast was clear, she then turned to the wolf, opening her mouth to ask what was wrong before he placed a finger over his lip, warning her to keep quiet. He kept the blonde behind him as he continued walking, conscious of every step they took. A loud crash sounded, stopping the two once again, she gave the wolf a concerned look, wondering if he knew the origin of the sound, where or even who the noise had come from. Lydia? She mouthed her question, but he shrugged, unsure that it was her.

Prepared to find out, Honey moved past the Alpha, rushing off as he whispered for her to come back. He should have known that a girl who'd been surrounded by werewolves would lack any sense of danger, she thought she was immune to it given how long she'd survived already. The blonde girl continued rushing through the graveyard until she found the thing that had caused the loud crash, a toppled-over backhoe. 

Just as Honey was about to inspect it, wondering if anyone had been in the backhoe, she heard another sound, coming from just a few graves over she could hear someone chewing, digging as they tossed dirt into the air from one of the other graves. Her stomach turned at the sight, there was someone eating dead bodies, inches from her. The blonde's foot began to hover, tempted to get a closer look at who it was, still convinced that it could be the redhead they were looking for, only Derek had stopped her, stretching his arm out in front of her again, giving her a strong look of disapproval before he took it upon himself to approach the grave. 

He stood over it, looking down at the creature inside with a disgusted looking before releasing a vicious growl that caused the blonde girl to wince, when her eyes opened again, the creature in question was rushing off, whimpering in fear, not daring to look back at the red eyes of an Alpha. He approached the blonde with a proud smirk on his face, but the blonde didn't comment on his inflated ego as she turned back to the backhoe that had been knocked over, I think someone's in there, she told the Alpha. 

This time, she didn't walk ahead of the werewolf, in fact, she kept well back as he investigated it, he could smell a strong scent of fear, suggesting that she was right in her assumption, that in the tossing over of the machinery, someone had fallen into an empty grave. Derek kneeled down at the side of the backhoe, using his new Alpha level of strength as he began lifting it from the floor, needing no help from the blonde as she stared in awe, watching him put it back on its wheels. As though it weighed nothing to him. It was no surprise that she was the only one who was in awe of the man's strength. 

The two peered into the empty grave to find it wasn't so empty after all, a teenage boy was in the corner, cowering as he looked up at the two of them, concerned at how the man had lifted up an entire backhoe, or why the two of them were on a casual stroll through a graveyard. Honey held a hand out for the boy, trying to be as friendly as possible, she could understand the fear he may have felt after seeing Derek's display of strength, being placed in an empty grave, and hearing a loud growl. Despite his fear, the teenager pulled himself off of the dirt, taking the hand that the girl had extended for him, pulling him out with the help of the Alpha. 

"You okay?" Honey asked, watching the tall boy shake as he looked around, frankly, he seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at the two of them. The boy nodded, mumbling an answer as Honey and Derek shared a concerned look, something was off about the boy, they just couldn't quite put their figure on it. "Do I recognize you?" She asked. "You just look really familiar." The blonde questioned him, analyzing him with a furrowed brow, from the boy's large stature down to the shiner he displayed on his face.

"Isaac." The boy muttered beneath his voice. "Lahey." He added. Honey didn't recognize either his first or last name, she wasn't sure how she recognized the boy at all, but the girl didn't dwell on it for too long as she introduced herself, it was clear Derek wasn't going to make an effort to put the boy at ease as he stood staring at him, only intimidating Isaac more. Someone needed to make it clear they weren't going to kill the poor boy. Honey Carter, she introduced herself with a hand out once again, Isaac didn't take it, instead he looked at her as though she had two heads. This was it, she thought, the first person to ask her about her father, the man who was killed by a psychotic arsonist who happened to be his girlfriend. At least that was the story she had created with the help of Derek. "Carter?" He repeated, swallowing thickly as he turned back to the grave they had just saved him from, reading the tombstone that was already in place. Jude Carter, she read. 1976-2011. He turned back to her, hoping that there was no correlation between the two of them, perhaps a simple, creepy coincidence. Unfortunately for them both it wasn't. 

"That's my father." She told him plainly, never did she think she would have to say that while she stood at the foot of a grave. 

"I'm- I'm sorry," Isaac mumbled in a panic, taking a step away from the grave, overwhelmed with guilt for the fact that a few minutes ago he had been lay in it. 

"Hey, at least he's not in there yet, right?" She shrugged it off with a joke, taking the poor boy by surprise. Dark humor wasn't for everyone. 

As the conversation fell quiet and Honey looked at the Alpha for help, Derek pointed out Isaac's black eye, the best he could do at making conversation. Lacrosse, the boy told him, making the blonde finally remember how she knew him, with all the practices she had been to since moving to Beacon Hills, the team had become quite familiar to her, and he was one of them. Only Honey knew that she hadn't seen him on the field, but on the bench, and there was no way that shiner had come from practice. He was lying. She entertained it anyway, questioning if Greenberg had caused it, to which he quickly agreed, choosing that as the story he would go with. 

The Alpha heard the jump in his heartbeat as he agreed, indicating the lie, and if that wasn't all the evidence he needed, he could see the puzzled look on the blonde, she was as good at seeing a lie for what it truly was as he was. Only she didn't need enhanced hearing to do it. 

·❥·

On the morning of her father's funeral, Honey Carter sat on the end of her bed in her black dress, the same one she had worn to her mother's funeral three months ago. Three months. That's all it had been, she had gone from a girl who had avoided death for sixteen years to a girl having to go to two in the space of three months. Her own parent's funerals too. She sat fiddling with a piece of paper that she had attempted to write her eulogy on, there were only a few scribbled lines on it, she hadn't quite had the time to prepare more, given that he had died all of three days ago, or the fact she had spent last night searching for Lydia, who was yet to turn up. 

Even if her mind had been in the right place, she wasn't sure she would know what to say, she'd escaped having to do this with her mother, her father had been there to give a eulogy. But now, she was the only one left. Abigail didn't know the man well enough to speak on his behalf, they hardly liked each other, perhaps all the woman could do was confess the truth at his funeral, to give her all the answers she needed, allowing the man to be buried on a clean slate, knowing he had gone into the ground with all of his secrets exposed. But she doubted Abigail would agree to her suggestion. 

The older blonde knocked on the door, a faint smile across her face, a forced one, it was time to leave, she told the teenage girl. It was now or never. Abigail looked at the piece of paper the girl held in her hand, questioning if that was her eulogy, the teenager nodded, her poor attempt of a eulogy at least. Abigail tutted, sighing slightly as she perched herself in the space beside the girl. She recalled having to speak at her own parent's funeral, she knew how hard it could be, how all of the words never seemed right, how stupid it seemed to talk to someone who couldn't hear. It was a tradition she had never quite understood. 

"About what you asked me yesterday..." Abigail paused, second-guessing whether she wanted to talk about it, but Honey's head had already shot up. "No. I'm not." She shook her head. "At least, not anymore." She told her truthfully. "There was a time I was, a time when it seemed right to do what I was told. To follow the code my father taught me. He eventually saw how wrong it was as well, but it was a little too late to redeem him." 

"What changed?" Honey questioned the woman.

"Sometimes something happens, one thing that changes your perspective of everything," Abby explained, her answer vague, whatever the something was, she wasn't quite ready to talk about it yet. "Are you ready?" Abigail asked, quickly standing up from the bed, making it obvious that their conversation was over, only for now, the teenage girl hoped as she stood up. 

The two blondes approached the graveyard where a police line had been drawn, deputies stood guard while Sheriff Stilinski personally escorted the two of them past the sea of news reporters, all of them were feral, like wild animals craving the blood of a grieving teenage girl. Eager to get a piece of gossip to splash across a headline. Stilinski shoved his way through the vultures while his arm shielded Honey's head, ensuring that she wouldn't wake up to her face on every paper in the morning, she was just one teenager who had risen to an unfortunate name of fame since the weekend had begun, Allison Argent being the other. All weekend he'd heard the two teenagers' names be mentioned, even in his own bullpen, talking about how unfortunate it was for them to experience such things at such a young age, or how strange it was that the two newest families in Beacon Hills had been connected, involved in the same incident. 

Soon enough Honey found herself sitting at the grave she had been stood at just last night, her father's name still staring at her, making her feel nauseous, almost as nauseous as the name on the tombstone next to it. Kate's. She still couldn't believe she had agreed to a joint funeral, but the Argents had made quite the offer, with one funeral, it would all be over with sooner, and the sooner she could be through with this, the better. 

The Argents arrived moments after the two blondes, harassed by the vultures just like they had been, Stilinski tried his best to shield them too, but they all knew there would be someone in a crowd like that who managed to get that image they wanted. Abigail stood up to greet the other family, shaking their hands, trying to put on a friendly face despite knowing what their sister and aunt had done, and what pain their family had caused her own family. Allison immediately took the opportunity to escape her father's side, placing herself beside the blonde girl who she had heard nothing from over the weekend, despite her text messages. She couldn't blame Honey for being absent in their lives, she was grieving, and unlike Kate, her father deserved the grief. They both exchanged forced smiles, acting as though any of this was fine.

"I knew this was a bad idea." Honey heard the Argent man whisper to his wife who had suddenly become defensive, reminding him that this wasn't his idea, neither of them agreed that funerals were necessary, at least not for Kate. For Jude, the two couldn't comment. Either way, they had had to agree with the idea, they'd had no choice. "I tried telling him, but he insisted on making a point of it." Chris continued as he turned to the blonde girl, smiling at her weakly, pausing their conversation, conscious of her prying ears.

Honey turned to the brunette beside her who stared at her feet. "Who are they talking about?" She asked the girl, but Allison shrugged, they wouldn't tell her either. Whoever the man was, it was someone who had dictation of even the head hunter, someone who must have incited an ounce of fear in the Argent man. Curious, Honey turned back to the conversation between the husband and wife. 

"Well, if he insisted, then he can deal with this when he gets here." Victoria scoffed, nodding at a still eager sea of reporters who continued to shout their questions from across the graveyard, all of them fighting to slip past the barricade of deputies. 

Honey then turned to her aunt who sat on the opposite side of Allison, Abigail must have known what was coming, what her niece wanted to ask, because before Honey could even spit out the words Abby shook her head, making it clear not to ask any questions, even she was reluctant to speak about the man they awaited. All of the clamoring at the barricade had come to an abrupt end, during the attention of the two families as they all looked at an old man whose hand held a camera lens, stopping the reporter who had snuck across the barrier from taking more pictures of his family than he already had. An awfully young-looking reporter, Honey noticed too. He had seemed no older than she or Allison. 

The two teenagers looked at one another, exchanging curious looks, wondering if that was him, the man that had incited fear into the three adults. It had to be. Who else came to a funeral with a pair of bodyguards accompanying him? This was the man that was meant to be feared. Honey and Allison watched as the unfamiliar man snapped the camera's memory card between his two fingers, leaving not only them, but the vultures outside stunned while he carelessly walked away with his head held high and a cruel grin. 

"Christopher." The man greeted as he opened his arms to Chris, the Argent man quickly standing up to greet him, welcoming the hug. Gerard, he called him. The man continued to greet Victoria, a kiss to each cheek, before she apologized for the man's loss. As confused as ever, Honey kept a close eye on the man, inspecting his face, wondering if she'd ever heard of him before, or if she'd ever seen him. Whoever the stranger was he walked past her the two teenagers, focusing on the other adult, Abigail, it seemed to be common knowledge to stand up when the man approached them, as the blonde had been fast to rise to her feet. "Abigail. Nice to see you again." 

Even as Abigail hugged him she found it hard to hide the uncomfortable look on her face, even a smile couldn't hide her discomfort. Despite never meeting the man, that uneasiness had spread to Honey as the man turned to her and Allison, smiling down at the two of them. 

"Do you remember me?" Gerard asked the brunette girl who nodded timidly, it appeared that it had finally occurred to her who the man was, perhaps it was the mention of his name that made her remember who he was and why he was to be feared. "Considering I haven't seen you since you were three, I don't suppose I can assume either of you'd call me Grandpa," Gerard said while Allison continued to smile politely, finally giving Honey the answer as to who he was. She should have known he was an Argent, they all had the same terrifying look in their eye, all except Allison who was yet to possess the look. "So if it's comfortable, call me Gerard for the time being. But I'd prefer Grandpa." He smiled, and then came the moment she dreaded.

Honey, the man spoke, holding out a hand for the young girl as she hesitantly shook it, she had no idea how or why the man knew her name, but she didn't like it. Gerard Argent, he'd formally introduced himself. "I look forward to getting to know the daughter of Emily Brown better." The man said, Honey nervously looked at her aunt who swallowed thickly while the man sat down at her right side. Too close for comfort. 

But she supposed she had better get used to that, something told her that Gerard hadn't come to town just for his daughter's funeral, he seemed like a man prepared to stay, one who would shake up the town more than the other any of the other hunters had. Gerard would be a force to be reckoned with. That she was sure of.

Honey Carter walked into her new home, taking a relieved sigh as she and Abby placed their sets of keys in the small dish near the front door, both glad to have the day over with. Playing a game of happy families with the Argents had exhausted them both, neither of the blondes wanted it to happen again any time soon, but they knew better than to think things would work out the way they wanted. Abigail moped towards her room, wishing the girl a good night at only 9 pm, Honey couldn't blame her for that, she'd had as hectic of a few days as she had. On Friday she was just a twenty-two-year-old free to live their own life, now she was the guardian of a sixteen-year-old, having to pick up the pieces of what her sister had left behind.

As she was welcomed by Bee it occurred to the blonde that this house still didn't quite feel like a home, in fact, nor did the old house, neither house had had a chance to become homely. Today was only her second day living here with Abigail, and she had only lived with her father for three weeks in the other home. The closest she had come to a homely feel since moving here was the time she had spent living with the Stilinskis, a real family.

She wondered whether she would ever come close to something like that, with a woman only in her early 20s as her guardian, she wasn't sure it was even possible. Her aunt didn't seem like the disciplinary type, which even she could admit she needed, but Abby seemed more of the fun big sister type. She hoped that would play in her favor when she finally had the energy to ask all the questions that she needed to about Gerard Argent. Why he was here? How did Abigail know him? Did she need to be as scared as the woman seemed?

The blonde walked into her bedroom, flicking on the lightswitch to reveal a buzzcut-haired boy sitting on her bed in his favorite "supporting single mothers" shirt, even he had been startled by the girl, immediately dropping the eyelash curler he had been trying to figure out while waiting for her. Honey was flabbergasted, looking around to see her bedroom window was wide open, making it clear that was how he had gotten in, in the single day she had lived here the boy had already scoped out a way to enter her house. By next week, he would have a key.

"Stiles, what are you-" Honey paused, quickly lowering her voice as she peered behind her with the hopes that Abigail wouldn't be standing there, with the coast clear, the blonde stepped into her room, shutting the door behind her, pressing her back against it. "What are you doing here?"

"An ambulance was attacked on the way to the hospital. We think it might be Lydia." He said as he stood up, bouncing with excitement while the girl continued to stare at him with wide eyes. "Why aren't you excited?"

"Stiles. If Lydia is attacking ambulances, why are you in my bedroom?" She deadpanned. "Don't you think you should be... Oh, I don't know, stopping her?" The girl raised her voice slightly, her back pressing harder against her bedroom door, hoping that the pressure would block out their voices enough for it to go over Abigail's head.

"Oh." He mumbled, chuckling slightly. He can see how his priorities had been slightly warped by the excitement of supernatural happenings. "Uh, wanna come?" He asked.

"Obviously." The girl deadpanned, throwing off her shoes to get changed into something a little more new-lunatic-werewolf-chasing appropriate. The blonde didn't think as she pulled off her black funeral dress right in front of the boy, causing him to flail as he rushed to cover his eyes, a loud sound escaping his mouth as he tried not to look at her undressed body. Honey pulled her closest hoodie over her head and a pair of jeans, telling the boy to shut up before Abigail heard him and stopped their fun little mission. "God, your such a virgin sometimes, Stilinski," Honey complained as she shoved him toward the window as their way out.

"You could have given me a little warning." Stiles defended himself. "I don't go stripping off in front of you."

"Well, I don't sneak through your bedroom window uninvited." She argued back as the two of them slowly began climbing onto the small part of roof that helpfully was placed outside of her bedroom window, perhaps the biggest perk of her new bedroom along with the lattice that had acted as a perfect ladder "Now go before you get us both caught." She insisted, pushing the boy until he thudded to the ground below. "Sorry!"

The two teenagers snuck through the woods, sneaking up on Scott who kept his distance while he watched the ambulance, still waiting for a sign that Lydia was the one who had attacked the staff and patient aboard it. Stiles had explained how he had come to hear about it all, how both he and Scott were at the funeral, watching over her and Allison when his father caught them, it was while they sat in the back of the cruiser that the call had come through on the radio, and in true Scott and Stiles fashion, the two of them had jumped at the opportunity to see what Lydia had done for themselves. Even with as bad as it had sounded on the radio, none of them quite anticipated the horror of what the redhead had done.

Blood was splattered around the ambulance, the man inside dead on a gurney, there had been no saving him. If this was Lydia, she was much different to how Scott had been. He wasn't sure if it was Allison that had kept him from being like this, but he sure hoped it was. They all did. They hadn't considered that not everyone might be the same, they had been using Scott's experience as the same case, expecting that Lydia would follow in his footsteps, that like he had Allison, she would have her own anchor. Someone to stop her running around town killing people, stealing a dead body's liver, and who knew what else.

As Honey stared at the bloody man, she still couldn't help but think that it should have been her, she should have been the one that was running rabid around town, she should have been on the field for Peter to bite. Perhaps if it had worked out that way Lydia wouldn't be the only one safe. Maybe her father could have been too. Peter would have had his revenge, turning the daughter of a hunter into the very thing they hunted. Her dad could have lived knowing that. If things had been just a little different that night, everything now could be different.

Scott caught the scent he needed to search for Lydia, prepared to head off before the blonde girl grabbed his jacket, holding him back for a moment. "Scott, I need you to find her." She asked of the wolf, a desperate look in her eyes that surprised both him and Stiles. "I just really need you to find her." Honey pleaded, the wolf nodded, promising her he would as he rushed off to do just that, leaving the blonde and Stiles behind to continue scoping out the ambulance, hoping they'd find more clues as to what was going on with Lydia.

"So, uh... your aunt" Stiles cleared his throat, their eyes remaining on the ambulance. "Is she... Does she, uh..."

"Hunt and kill werewolves?" Honey finished his sentence for him, putting it in the blunt way that he had tried to avoid, unsure how well she'd been coping with it all, the two hadn't had much of a chance to talk about it before she moved in with her aunt. "No. Not anymore, at least." The girl shrugged, he could tell by her tone that there was something deeper, a hint of curiosity she had about the woman she called her aunt. "She acts like she doesn't know a lot. But I think that she knows more than anyone. I think Abby is the answer to every question I have about my parents."