Allison stays with Scott for his first full moon. He's chained to a radiator in his own home, but he needs more than that. He needs backup. He needs his anchor.

They talk well into the night.

Regan welcomes her granddad with open arms, and a slight hidden apprehension. They've been anticipating this for a while now, but the fact it's happening so soon... it's daunting. But she has been trained on how to keep her thoughts to herself and she does exactly that.

She spends the full moon sitting cross legged on Scott's bed meditating. It's a great exercise in control, especially with another alpha's beta struggling across from her. It's a huge success for her, actually. She manages to stay completely human and does not rip the betas head off when he got too rowdy.

The beta appreciates that.

He and Allison spend as much of the next week together as they can. It's fine when they're just talking, but whenever he smiles at her she has to remind herself why she's doing this. This is for her family, not for her.

School is...fine. At Allison's urging, Scott quits the team. He doesn't need to lose control when the stakes are the lives of dozens of teenagers. He and Stiles argue about her a lot.

Stiles doesn't tell Scott that he's trying to figure out where the Argents came from. The research doesn't yield immediate results, anyway. Instead, he just tells Scott not to get carried away.

With the town cleared of all other werewolves, they get to work trying to track down the alpha. Her parents work on that while Allison works on Scott. When he confides in her, scared and gentle and so worried about what he's capable of, that he thinks he killed the bus driver, Allison tells her parents. She reminds them that alphas are supposed to be able to control their betas. It's not Scott's fault, she's sure of it.

Well. If she's sure.

They tell Regan to investigate, and he and Victoria agree not to tell his father.

Regan can do that. She is a one werewolf investigating machine. She heads over to the crime scene that night. Hopefully, they haven't cleared everything out by now and she can dodge any cops that are still around.

The bus still smells of death- it entices the wolf as much as it disgusts the human. The tape around it is easy enough to cross.

Helpful. No need for werewolf acrobatics tonight.

The smell of death is... a lot. But she needs to put it aside and clear her mind. What else can she smell?

She can identify the scent of werewolves, easily, though distinguishing between them is more difficult. One seems younger, and so it stands out, but she can't tell what the remaining scents might be. If she faced any of them, she would stand a chance of recognizing them, at least.

She recognizes the young wolf as Scott, she's spent enough time with him by now that she can pick him out of a crowd. But she takes the time to fully familiarise herself with the other scents. If she has any chance of catching this alpha, she needs to know them intimately.

Then, into the bus proper. She can't actually remember the last time she was on a school bus.

The bus appears to be a bus. Also there's a liberal coating of dried blood over everything.

Okay, it's likely that the police went over everything already, but they don't have an alpha werewolves senses. She'll spend a bit of time here going over everything just in case.

She can learn a bit more about the victim- fond of spicy food, low on testosterone- but not much else about how he died.

Super helpful. Fine. She jumps out of the bus and takes a deep breath. Any scent tracks or otherwise?

No. A day after the attack, there is nothing left to identify in the open air.

What about normal tracking? Even werewolves can't avoid leaving physical traces of their presence.

She can find something of a trail. The human police, with their inferior senses, must have missed the signs. She can follow it into the woods, but eventually it's muddled as she goes deeper into the preserve. Animal activity.

She can safely assume that this werewolf was headed for downtown, though.

Regan sighs in frustration. She hates coming home empty-handed. They're supposed to protect the humans from the supernatural. This whole thing is a failure on their part. They - she needs to do better.

Home it is! They've started having dinner without her.

Her mother hasn't started eating yet, because she's not an animal, but she's indulgently listening to Gerard and Chris talk about his college days.

"Dad, come on, I don't need to be thinking about that! Just because- oh, hi, Regan! Dad is embarrassing himself and me, as some kind of sick punishment for daring to 'date' someone."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" she teases as she sheds her jacket and sits down at the table.