"Hey I'm sorry Harris literally just let me out. Literally. And he had my phone." Stiles said as Allison filled him in on what was happening with the full moon and Isaac. And what they were going to do.
"Scott's with Derek." She told him.
"Of course he is." Stiles said with a sigh. It was as he threw his school bag in anger at how his friend got to leave when he had to attend detention that he thought of something. "Do you think we should get Violeta involved?"
"Violeta Rodriguez?"
"Yeah. She definitely knows stuff. I wouldn't be surprised if she knows that Scott's a werewolf." Stiles said. "But I think she's even more connected than we think."
"I think we should just figure it out ourselves and then discuss Violeta later."
"Okay." Stiles relented.
"Especially since Scott told me Derek's getting his own reinforcements. I don't think getting too many unknown... variables is a good idea right now." Allison said, Stiles getting more agitated at the fact that Derek was bringing 'reinforcements' in. This could get ugly very, very, very quickly. "But I definitely agree with you. She... she knows things." Allison brought his mind back to the Spanish girl.
"But like you said, we'll discuss her later." Stiles said. "Look, you slow down the guy with the wolfsbane. I'm going to the station right now." After getting acknowledgement from Allison, Stiles hung up and started his Jeep. As he began driving he caught himself humming the theme to the Batman.
-
She arrived at the Beacon Hills Country Office to see the blue Jeep. Violeta took a moment before dashing in. She saw Derek talking to one of the officers, a nice lady by the name of Sarah, when the alarms went off. Violeta brought her hand up and recounted the words under her breath as Sarah fell to the ground, unconscious. Derek snapped his head at her, able to make the connection that Violeta had just spelled the officer asleep.
Violeta didn't have time to explain, rushing off to find Stiles.
When she did, he was being dragged by a man in uniform. She didn't recognise him and thus swiftly pulled out Rico's handgun from where it was tucked into the waist of her jeans. She held it up and aimed it square at the officer.
"Let him go." She said calmly. The officer didn't listen to her, opting to pull Stiles directly in front of him as a shield. Stiles began freaking out at having a gun pointed at him so she lowered it. However, the officer then pulled out his own gun and pointed it at Stiles' head.
"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." Was the repeated phrase coming out of one panicked Stiles. Violeta kept her calm as she brought up her hands in defat, the gun falling aimlessly and only held up from the trigger looping around a finger.
"Let him go." She repeated.
A roar interrupted everything.
The officer all but dropped Stiles and dashed to where the holding cells were. Violeta ran after him, jumping over Stiles who was still on the ground. She heard the sounds of his sneakers coming after her as the duo found the officer fighting with one fully turned Isaac.
She rushed and grabbed Isaac by the shoulders and pulled him off, throwing him across. However, the officer didn't relent and stepped forward. Isaac noted the syringe and thus, the officer became the number one target. He leaped across the room and slammed the officer's head against the wall, effectively knocking him out.
He then turned around to see Stiles on the ground, trying to hide behind a desk. Isaac stalked forward and Violeta took a step, blocking him. He tilted his head and she knew he wouldn't attack, his instincts telling him that she was not a threat. Even though she threw him across the room... no matter what she did, a wolf knew that she was no harm and not to be harmed.
He took another step forward and then she held a hand up, ready to defend the human boy behind her.
Luckily, Derek decided to come in and shut Isaac down. The wolf all but scampered under Derek's roar and Isaac crouched on the ground, shielding his head under his arm. Violeta immediately went to him, ignoring the screams from Stiles. She pulled Isaac's hand away to see his human face.
"You're okay..." She cooed, having seen the fear in Isaac's eyes a million times before. "You're going to be okay. No one's going to hurt you." She stroked his hair back. His eyes scanned the room, darting around rapidly. "Hey, hey." She said, "Look at me. You're fine."
"I'm okay?" He asked, voice full of breath.
"You're okay." She reassured and added a smile for good measure.
"We need to leave." Derek said behind her. Violeta nodded, knowing that was the obvious next cause of action. Knowing this would only cause more strife in her social dilemmas, she still kissed Isaac on the head. She knew, better than most, that when you're in this position, this is what you need.
She helped Isaac up and dusted his shoulders. She looked at Derek who nodded at her. Isaac left her arms and walked to his alpha. Once Derek lead Isaac out of the holding cell, she finally met Stiles' eyes.
Oh, how the questions just radiated from him.
-
Stiles Stilinksi was not stupid.
You need only look at his report card to see the straight A's from the Adderall-infused teenage boy to get a suspicion of his above average intellect. Yes, he was clumsy. Yes, he was awkward. Yes, he often found himself as the witty, comical one who gave the one-liners. But he wasn't stupid. He was smart. Smart that he was the one who realised Scott McCall was a werewolf before the boy wonder himself did. Smart that he could tell you what was going on in the Beacon Hills County Office and the police's latest investigations — despite his father's extra use of extra codewords and codenames.
Stiles Stilinksi was not stupid.
But he still marched up to Violeta's table at Kenny's café and promptly sat down without invitation. Before he even sat down on the cushion of the red booth, he felt himself being lifted, a pulling sensation from his shirt collar behind his neck. "Okay, okay, okay." He muttered as several dudes somehow appeared around Violeta. The girl in question had a cappuccino in front of her, reading over some notebook. She blinked, eyes wide as she obviously hadn't realised what had happened.
Stiles felt himself thrown back and about four guys formed a bridge in front of Violeta. He recognised two of them from school, being a part of Violeta's... clique. He placed the name of one, Rico, but couldn't think of the other name. He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking he'd utterly screwed this one up.
Especially since the Rico guy made of a show of cracking his knuckles.
"Oh, hey guys. How you going? It's nice a day, huh." Stiles said, mouth running away from him. "Say, how do you know Kenny?"
Stiles heard some Spanish behind them. Stiles blinked and after a very long and very tense moment, they slowly moved aside and she was sitting there, looking very small. For a moment, Stiles felt disbelief. Disbelief that he was currently here, crossing the unspoken line in Kenny's separating the random geeks that came in and the gang members who frequented the "spot." The faces surrounding him were faces he'd only briefly seen in school or, more often, in the mugshots of the files he snooped around in his dad's office when he was bored.
The disbelief then turned into shock as Stiles took in Violeta, the oversized black t-shirt with the yellow painted on top. Violeta, with a cappuccino in her two hands, looking at him patiently. This Violeta, the girl who right now seemed as normal as a teenager could get, this girl had just ordered thugs to leave him alone. That Violeta Rodriguez was this girl wearing a Batman t-shirt, drinking coffee in a comic book shop and yet had such authority in the streets.
"Hi Stiles." She greeted. "How are you feeling?"
Stiles nodded, not ready to speak. He filled the silence with the action of taking a seat in the booth, ignoring the looks everyone gave him. Violeta noted this and muttered something in Spanish again. The disbelief came again as they all began to wander off. Everyone but Rico who opted to go up to the bar Kenny was currently at, cleaning glasses with a towel.
"My grandfather bought this place." Violeta spoke. "He wanted a place where he could have all the things he loved... coffee, comics, a bit of arcade games." She looked around and Stiles blinked at the information she had just told him. He finally looked around and noted the slight Spanish lilt of the interior with the light colours, wooden furniture and the lamps. His eyes came down to the coffee cup Violeta brought up to drink from. He noted the red and white china design. How it did have some ethnic design to it all that he had never really paid attention to before.
"Kenny's Spanish?"
"Colombian." Violeta answered. "His Spanish is a different dialect from mine and to be quite honest with you, I sometimes have to nod and pretend like I know what he's saying." Stiles laughed once and cleared his throat, bringing his hands to rest on the table. "Mae, the barista, is from Argentina. She's the one always wearing the Messi football jersey."
Stiles didn't know what to do with that information but a fond smile came on Violeta's face. Stiles realised it was the first time he had ever actually seen her smile.
"So..." He began, trying to get over the dimples he noticed from her grin.
"I'm guessing this isn't a social visit in which you want to come and discuss comics. Or Chemistry." She said and Stiles hated that he had prompted her to drop the smile.
"No, actually," The last word brought up something he'd spent more time than he should've dwelling upon. Violeta and that one Chemistry class, "why did you do what you did? I mean, I'm grateful!" He quickly added upon seeing her frown, "I just, confused is all."
Violeta set her cup down and gave him a sad smile. "Let's just say that it's sort of my... obligation to look out for the vulnerable ones."
"Vulnerable?" Stiles asked, getting slightly offended. "You think—"
"That you're a very capable human being. But Harris is still a dick who needed to be put in his place." Violeta said. "Also, don't get so pissy. Everyone gets vulnerable. Some day, some shit happens that will tip you off the edge and you're deluding yourself if you think you can overcome shit by yourself."
Stiles pulled his hands back from the table to place them in his lap. He stared at her, mouth slightly open as he tried to think of something- anything to say. But he couldn't. What are you supposed to say to that? That? He'd basically just been told by the most intimidating person in all of Beacon Hills that it was... okay to be vulnerable? What? Stiles frowned, not really sure how they came here. He didn't mean to talk about this when he walked into Kenny's and stupidly marched up to her table.
Yet, here he was.
And it was stupid to think there wasn't a double meaning in her words. But Stiles was smart.
"Okay, look, is this anything to do with Scott?"
"Scott McCall?"
"Yes."
"Why would it have anything to do with Scott?"
Stiles frowned, not appreciating this. She knew. Of course she did. Talk about being stronger together and giving him looks during lacrosse training and the general 'shiftiness' of every interaction they had ever had (except for detention but he wasn't going to talk about that right now) He had come here to get answers and he would get them, damn it.
"You know." Stiles with narrowed eyes... which he quickly righted when Rico loudly coughed.
Violeta just laughed into her cup and rolled her own. She licked her lips and then placed the cup down. She brought her elbows to rest on the surface of the table and then looked at him. "I know that I'm surprised all of Beacon Hills High doesn't know about your best friend's extra co-curricular activities since you and him never shut about it." The shock was clear on his face. "What? You're surprised? Tell me, has anyone told you about this thing called subtlety."
"Did you overhear?!?" The panic evident as he leaned forward. Stiles began running though every time he and Scott discussed Supernatural Stuff at school which, albeit, there were a lot. Now, when would Violeta Rodriguez have overheard? Chemistry? She sits pretty far and would need enhanced hearing— "Wait! Are you a werewolf?!"
She leaned back, crossed her arms and stared at him dead-panningly. "See. This is the shit I'm talking about."
Stiles leaned back in his own seat and cleared his throat, showing obvious awkwardness. Especially since she hadn't stopped staring at him like he was an idiot.
"So, uh, are you?"
Her lips twitched and she fought to keep her face straight. Whilst she didn't let herself smile, she uncrossed her arms and brought a knee up to get more comfortable and more casual in her seat. "No. I'm not."
"So, how do you know?"
"How do you know?"
Stiles frowned. "Scott's-"
"And did Scott McCall come out and tell you himself that he was one?" She challenged.
"Well, no. I read and researched-"
"Et voila!" She said, outstretching her hands dramatically as if to say and there you go. Which, she sort of did. Just in French. Wait—
"You speak French?" Stiles blurted. It was only two words but she said with a - well, what sounded like - a perfect French accent.
This time, she was the one surprised and taken aback. "Uh, yeah." She said, getting her bearings back. "I'm doing it at school."
"Oh! Me too!" Stiles said. "How come you're not in my class?"
"I'm, uh, doing AP French." She muttered in a low voice, obviously not liking to show that she was--
"Smart." Stiles once again blurted. "You're, uh, really smart." He said, surprise evident in his voice. "Like, the only other person I know doing AP French is Lydia—"
"She's doing AP Italian." Violeta corrected, unimpressed and sounding mildly pissed.
"Really? You sure?" Stiles said, running off as he thought about Lydia, "I could've sworn it was French because she's—"
"I think I would know since she's in my class." Violeta said.
Stiles then paused.
"But you just said you're doing AP French."
"I am."
"So how can Lydia be in your AP Italian class if you're doing AP French?" Stiles asked, the answer dawning on him as he finished this thought. Stiles adjusted himself in the seat, feeling more and more awkward and how stupid he'd just portrayed himself to be.
But now he got why she was telling him about the barista who liked soccer who was from Argentina which spoke a different dialect of Spanish - Violeta Rodriguez was interested in and liked languages.
"So you like languages?" He asked the same way she interrupted and asked what he wanted. "Huh? Me? I... uh. Want to... Talk. To you."
"Scott's a werewolf. Derek is also. He's actually now an alpha after killing his uncle Peter who bit Lydia. She ran through the forest naked for a day and no one really knows anything. Derek's turned Jackson and Isaac, the last who's now a fugitive after escaping jail for being a suspect in the death of his father who was killed by an animal. Except Isaac didn't kill him. Allison's from a family of hunters, one of which killed Derek's entire family because he couldn't keep it in his pants."
She blew a raspberry.
"Did I miss anything?"
"Just, uh, how you know all of this." Stiles said, gulping as how much this girl knew was beginning to dawn on him. Along with the fact that there was no way she could've just merely overheard all this at school from him and Scott.
"I'm observant."
"I think it's more than that."
"It's good to think things."
"Look," Stiles heaved a sigh of breath, "does anyone... else know?" His eyes darting to Rico.
At his words, the smirk on Violeta's voice fell. She shook her head. "Nothing about you guys."
"Well... are you going to help us?"
That was the question. That was the question Stiles had come here to find out. More than if she knew about Scott and everyone else - he already would've bet his Jeep that she did - and more than whether or not she was supernatural herself. Whatever she could be. He had thought werewolf and even, for a split second, had the idea of vampire since she was so... mysterious. And always wore black. And radiated authority.
But that was stupid.
But it also didn't matter.
What did was the fact that she knew and Stiles wanted to know if she would help.
Not knowing that this was the question she asked herself every waking minute. Would she help them? Would she? That was sort of her destiny, apparently: to help others. She'd been doing it for the kids and others on the streets with the sheriff and now, apparently, she was going to go deeper into the night with abilities and responsibilities she didn't want. So Violeta was quiet. How could she respond. There was no way she could be ambiguous. If she said I don't think I can, it would be a lie; she has more strength than the wolves combined and far, far, far more expertise than that Deaton fellow could ever attain. Violeta could also say she couldn't because she can. Moreso, she should.
"Well?" Stiles asked.
"Do you want me to help?"
"Yes." There was no hesitance in his voice. It was like he'd been waiting for her to ask the question. That he'd been expecting this.
"Okay then."
And just like that, it happened.