The human monster of teen wolf

After dealing with Isaac's dad, I went straight home. I wasn't in the mood for anything else.

The whole day had been exhausting, and all I wanted to do was relax. I walked inside, locked the door behind me, and dropped my bag on the floor. Without bothering to turn on the lights, I went straight to my room and collapsed onto my bed.

I stared at the ceiling, letting out a deep sigh. Everything was getting more complicated—Scott's problems with Jackson, the Alpha still running around, and now Isaac's situation. I knew I couldn't fix everything, but I sure as hell wasn't going to sit around and do nothing.

I needed a plan. But for now, I just needed rest. 

When I woke up, my phone was flooded with missed calls and messages from Scott and Stiles. They were freaking out, saying they had finally figured out that Peter was the Alpha and that Jackson wanted to become a werewolf.

I already knew about Peter, so that wasn't news to me. As for Jackson? I wasn't too concerned. He thought he'd become a werewolf, but I knew better—he was going to be the Kanima. That wasn't my problem. At least, not yet.

It was the weekend, so I decided to take it easy and let Scott handle Jackson for now. I wasn't too worried about it.

A sudden knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts. I got up and opened it to find Allison standing there.

"I'm guessing you want to talk," I said, stepping aside.

"Yes," she replied, her expression serious.

I nodded and gestured for her to come in. We moved to the living room and sat down. There was a brief silence before I spoke.

"Alright, what's your first question?"

She hesitated for a moment before finally saying, "My family."

"Okay, the Argent family are hunters. They've been hunting the supernatural for a long time—specifically those who prey on the innocent," I explained.

Her eyes widened slightly. "There are more supernatural creatures besides werewolves?"

I nodded. "Yeah, a lot more. I only know a few for sure—werecoyotes, kitsunes, and werejaguars."

She took a deep breath, processing the information. "Okay…" she muttered, clearly shocked. Then she hesitated before asking, "Will my family try to kill Scott?"

"No," I assured her. "He hasn't killed anyone innocent. But… they won't let you two be together."

"Because he a werewolf?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes," I replied simply.

"Is there a way to cure him?" she asked, hope flickering in her voice.

"No. He's stuck like that forever," I said, not sugarcoating it.

She took a moment to process that before looking at me suspiciously. "Okay… then what about you? Are you a werewolf? Is that how you knew all of this and fought the Alpha while we ran?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm human. But… different. I'm faster, stronger, and my senses are sharper than any werewolf."

"How's that possible?" she asked, clearly confused.

"I don't know. I was born like this, I guess," I said with a shrug.

She hesitated before asking, "Do you have a family? Because I know you live by yourself… no parents."

"Not that I know of. The last family I had was my grandpa, and he passed away," I admitted.

Her expression softened. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," I said, brushing it off. "It was a long time ago."

"Can you help me get stronger? Teach me how to defend myself against supernatural creatures? I don't want to feel helpless again," she said, determination in her eyes.

"I can teach you hand-to-hand combat, but when it comes to the bow… that's not my expertise," I admitted.

"That's okay. I can learn that on my own," she said confidently.

"Good. Let's head to the basement," I said, leading the way.

When we stepped inside, her eyes widened as she took in the gym setup. "Wow… this is impressive."

"Thanks. Now let's get started. I'm going to teach you boxing, Judo, and knife-throwing," I said.

"Okay, let's do this," she replied, determination clear in her voice.

We trained for almost two hours. She was impressive—quick to learn, but still human. She picked up the basics of boxing fast, but she needed more practice with Judo. Knife-throwing was tricky for her at first, but she was improving. After an intense session, we took a break, sitting down to catch our breath.

As we rested, she turned to me. "Do you know anything about your family? Any clues that might help you find out more about them?"

I paused, thinking for a moment. "I might have a clue..." My mind drifted back to Deaton. The way he looked at me—like he knew me—stood out. Maybe he had answers.

We got back to training for another hour before she finally decided to head home. Before she left, I gave her one last warning.

"Your aunt is manipulative, and she doesn't care about killing. Be careful around her," I said firmly.

She nodded, taking my words seriously, then left.

When she left, I took a quick shower and changed into fresh clothes, preparing to head out.

I made my way to Deaton's Clinic, which was still open. As I stepped inside, the familiar scent of antiseptic and animals filled my nose. The place was quiet, the soft hum of equipment and the occasional rustling of caged animals the only sounds.

Deaton looked up from the counter, his expression calm as always. His eyes met mine, unreadable yet knowing, like he had been expecting me.

"Hi, Deaton, my name is K—" I started, but he cut me off.

"Kai, I know," Deaton said calmly.

I frowned. "How do you know my name? We've never met before."

"We have, but you were too young to remember me," he said, his voice steady.

I frowned, trying to piece together what he meant. "What do you mean? How do you know me?"

Deaton exhaled softly, setting down the clipboard he was holding. "Your parents brought you to me when you were a baby."

My body tensed at his words. "You knew my parents?" I asked, my voice quieter now.

"Yes, I did. I knew your parents for a long time," he said.

I felt my chest tighten. "Can you tell me who they are?" I asked, my voice steady but eager.

Deaton sighed, his expression unreadable. "Not yet. It's not the right time."

"Can you at least tell me if they're alive or not?" I asked, my voice firmer this time.

Deaton's gaze softened slightly. "Your mother is," he said.

My stomach twisted. If my mother was alive… "So my dad is dead?" I muttered, already bracing for the answer.

Deaton gave a slow nod. "Yes. He died protecting you… from him."

I narrowed my eyes. "From who?"

"Someone who lost their way," he said cryptically.

I let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not a big fan of riddles, Deaton."

He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "I'll tell you when the time is right. For now, you need to focus on dealing with the Alpha."

I crossed my arms. "We already know it's Peter. I'm guessing he killed the people involved in the Hale fire?"

"Yes, he is," Deaton confirmed. "But he's not going to stop there."

I clenched my jaw. I remembered why Peter went crazy—his body had been struggling to heal from the wounds he got in the fire. The pain, the rage, it all consumed him. If he wasn't stopped, he'd go after the entire Argent family next.

I had gotten the information I was looking for, even if it wasn't much. With that, I left the clinic and headed home, my mind already racing with what to do next.

I kept forgetting important details about the show—but that was a problem for later. Right now, I had more immediate issues to handle.

Peter was dangerous, and I needed to make sure he didn't go after Chris or Allison. His main target was Kate, and if things didn't follow the story, Allison might end up dead. That meant I had a choice to make—let Kate live and go to jail or let her die and come back as a Werejaguar.

And then there was Peter.

In the original story, he came back—but did I really want that to happen? Letting him stay dead would solve a lot of problems, but keeping him around could also be useful. He was dangerous, but he knew things, things that could help me in the long run.

I had to decide—should Peter stay dead permanently, or should I let him come back?

Yeah, a decision like that needed a clear head. No point in overthinking it when I was already exhausted. I climbed into bed, letting my thoughts drift as sleep slowly took over.

Tomorrow, I'd figure it out.