The girl sits with her hands resting in her lap, fingers twitching every once in a while. Her handbag pressed up against her thigh, and her toes tapping out a very soft beat. She had been sitting in the same place for half an hour and had not said a single word.
"Allison." The older woman said with a strong voice.
The young girl's head snaps up, as if she had forgotten where she was.
"Yes?" Her voice was small. Child like, almost. The woman smiles.
"Do you know why you're here?"
Allison looks at her, eyes gliding over the woman's office, framed certificates of all sorts lined the walls along with small family photos. The walls wore a very relaxing shade of blue. The glass doors that led out to a patio offered a captivating view. Allison stared out the window before her attention was drawn back to the lady, clearing her throat.
She looked at the woman again, holding her gaze.
"Why are you here?" The woman prods.
"He's... My boyfriend is dead and my dad thinks I need help...closure." Allison cracks her knuckles, the sound echoes through the room.
"Tell me about him."
Allison closes her eyes, squeezes them shut. In her head she sees him. His cheeks flushed pink, his tall lanky body, leaning against her bedroom door. His smile creating small hollows on either side of his face. Freckles and light brown spots littering his face, eyes like a furnace of melted gold.
When she opened her eyes, she realized she had been talking. Thinking of Stiles brought her to that place. He was too amazing to keep to herself, so whenever she started to talk about him, it would go on for days if someone didn't stop her. But under these circumstances, she managed to do that herself.
"... and he had the softest touch." Allison's hands began to shake. "I'll never have that again. No one will."
The therapist wrote on the notepad she held in her hands. Allison watched her scribble and wondered what she was writing.
The woman looked up, "How do you deal with that?"
Allison thought about it. She really did.
"I don't." Therapy was a last resort. Forced on her really. Allison had tried everything. Pottery, running, archery, hiking, hunting...beer. She hated beer. But she tried anything she could to help with the pain.
Even 5 months after the funeral Allison can hear Sheriff Stilinski say to her, "You'll never really stop feeling the loss."
And every time it brings tears to her eyes. Allison wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. She doesn't have to worry about smearing her make up, because she hasn't worn any in a long time. There's no reason to when she has herself condemned to her room. Surrounding herself with every memory of him that she can hold close. His red hoodie stuffed under her pillow, the notes he wrote to her spread across her work desk.
"You don't have to deal with it yet. But are you ready to talk about it?"
"Yes. Five months ago, Stiles Stilinski was the love of my life, still is."
Allison bounds down the stairs and into Stiles' arms. She noses his face and moves her lips to his, she feels his warm breath spread across her face. It wasn't harsh, just comforting and inviting. She feels herself smile, happy because she's holding this beautiful boy and he's hers. Nothing else matters.
"Hey," he whispers.
"Hi." she whispers back, not knowing why, but wanting to keep it between them.
Stiles takes her hand in his and pulls her to the door. He moves his other hand about as he talks, "What if... I'm just saying what if I were to propose to you?"
Allison opened to the door to his jeep and jumped inside. She laughed as he started the engine, the sound rumbling in her. "Are you serious?"
He cranes his neck to look at her. "Deadly."
She puts a finger to her lips and looks up at him through her lashes, "Isn't it a little early for that? I know we've been dating for three years, but I just don't know yet."
"I'm not saying we'd have to get married right away." Stiles pulls away from the house and heads for Lydia's.
Allison doesn't answer, she puts her hand on top of his where it rests on her leg. She traces each of his long, slender fingers with her finger tips. She picks his hand up and kisses it. She smiles at him and he smiles back.
"I'm sorry I asked." He brushes it off as if he had just asked her if she wanted a chocolate bar and she declined it. But Allison knew him better than that, she knew it would be on his mind. And she knew she couldn't just leave the question hanging. She'd answer him the next day, sleep on it that night.
"Did you want to be engaged to Stiles?"
"Of course. But I'll get there."
Now that they were all in college, they had plenty more time to spend with each other compared to senior year when they almost got separated because of different interests and problems. More time to have pack dinners and such.
Allison and Stiles walked into a house that smelled of cinnamon and vanilla candles. The warm smell of thanksgiving all around. Lydia decided not to cancel her thanksgiving party, just cut the numbers down a bit. Down to just the members of the pack and the humans. Stiles sets the gifts on the table and joins everyone in the living room. Derek and Jackson sat on the floor playing video games, Lydia and Erica bustled about in the kitchen where Allison dropped Stiles' hand to join them.
Boyd and Isaac sat on the couch cross legged, betting on who would win the game Jackson and Derek were neck to neck on. Stiles searched the room for Scott and found him half hidden by Isaac, Scott had his hand firmly planted in Isaac's curls and he smiled widely at Stiles as he crossed the room.
"STILES! How about you not walk infront of the tv?" Jackson snarls without taking his eyes from the screen. Stiles laughs because he gets joy from being an ass to Jackson.
"Jackson! Would you like to sit outside for dinner?" Lydia chastises him from the kitchen.
Jackson mumbles under his breath. Allison watches Stiles sit on the arm of the couch, she finds herself smiling and immediately stops. He was so beautiful and she didn't know how she managed to score such a brilliant person. Someone who wanted to propose to her! She shooed the thought from her head to keep herself from feeling guilty for not saying yes.
"What's your relationship with everyone else like now?"
"They never talk about him around me anymore."
"An untouched subject?" The woman takes notes again.
"Yea." Allison pulls a tissue from the box conveniently place within arms reach. She doesn't use it though, she only balls in up in her fist.
"Dinner is ready!" Erica calls from the dining table. The boys rush from the other room. Isaac reaches for a roll on the table and Allison smacks his hand away.
"Wash your filthy hands. All of you." The boys comply and gather at the sink to soap and rinse. When everyone is seated and clean, Stiles clears his throat.
"I'd like to thank the gods... and Lydia and Erica, for this meal. For the people sitting here tonight." Jackson snorts and Allison peeks out of one eye to see Derek elbow him in the ribs. "For bringing us together, giving us all a place we can call home and people we love and can call family." Allison opens her eyes and finds that Stiles has his eyes open too and is watching her. She smiles and his cheeks turn pink. "... The end?"
There is chatter at the table, talking across the table, feet banging against each other under the table. Arms rubbing and hands touching.
Allison looks out behind the woman. Out at the skyline., "There was a knock at the door, and that's when Matt showed up."
"Matt?"
"Matt Daehler, the one with the gun. The one that kill-. He had the gun."
"What happened next?"
"He pushed his way inside, because no one would fight with him when he's holding a gun in his hand right? So he came in and he sits down. Everyone's gone quiet and there's just a bunch of tension in the house."
"I bet you guys weren't expecting me huh?"
No one answered. Matt laughs and rises from the chair. He points the gun at every person in turns. Landing on Allison. She steps back.
Stiles steps forward. "What do you want Matt?"
Matt keeps the gun pointed at the girl and looks to Stiles, "Her." He shakes the gun at Allison.
Stiles frowns. "Come on man. Let that go. Just get out of here."
"This isn't the time to be hero Stiles. I will shoot you." Matt licks his lips hungrily.
And all of a sudden, everyone is talking at the same time. Their voices raising to be heard over the other.
"Everybody shut up." Matt's hand is shaking.
"Allison."
Allison stops and looks at the woman across from her. "Hmm?"
"You're shaking. We can continue this tomorrow."
Allison looks up at the clock. "My time isn't finished."
She smiles politely, "... Very well then."
Derek advances on him, "You wouldn't shoot the Sheriffs son now would you?"
Something dark clouds Matt's eyes and he applies pressure on the trigger. Releasing a bullet. There is a moment of shock, where everyone hears the gunshot but no one knows where it goes.
Until Stiles is on the floor, his eyes overflowing with tears, his breaths forced and choppy. And Matt is no longer in the room.
Allison takes a deep breath and lets out a very shaky one. She tries to steady her heartbeat.
"I couldn't move. They all rushed to him, he lay on the floor, his fingers were red, covering the wound. Jackson took his jacket off and pressed it under Stiles' hands. I couldn't let myself feel anything. And I know, this will sound weird. Trust me, I never believed in it until it happened to me. But I was outside of my body watching everything happen. I saw myself standing, my eyes empty, looking down at Stiles, while he reached for me, his blood covered hand reaching for mine. His face slowly draining of all it's color."
"Allison."
"Allison move!"
"Don't just stand there Allison."
"You're letting him die."
"That's the one that got me, Derek said to me, 'You're letting him die.'" Allison covers her eyes with her hands and pauses.
"That's all our time for today. I believe we made some progress. You definitely talked more than you have in the two weeks I've been seeing you."
Allison feels the tears on the brim of her eyes. She looks up until they no longer threaten to fall. Putting her handbag over her shoulder, Allison stands and walks to the door.
"Thank you."
"I'll be seeing you at 2:30 tomorrow, yes?" The therapist swivels in the chair and watches Allison nod and walk out the door.
Allison sits in her car, the windows down and his house in view. She watches the curtains blow out the window of his room. The blue faded out of it because she can only imagine that the Sheriff hasn't been in that room since then. Not even to close the window on a cold night.
She pulls the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers and rings the doorbell. She waits.
When the Sheriff opens the door, he isn't the same man she met when Stiles invited her over for dinner when they began dating. This man was completely different in every way.
His eyes red and raw, glassy and sad. Bags forming under his eyes, showing that he barely slept. Allison is surprised when he pulls her into a firm hug. She reaches around and lays her hands on his back, rubbing up and down. She immediately regrets waiting until now to stop by. She evidently wasn't the only one who was suffering from the loss.
"Come inside." His voice, it broke her heart. It sounded weak, raspy, as if he talked through grinded up glass in his throat.
Allison steps inside the house and looks around. It feels the same, but under it there is an air or emptiness, and eerie silence. Television sounds are soft coming from the living room. She walks past into the kitchen with the man.
He offers her a seat and she takes it, along with a glass of water that he insists she drink.
"How are you?" She asks. He looks up at her and rubs his face.
"Taking it one day at a time." He looks down at the table. "The county let me go, kept messing up and making silly mistakes. Couldn't keep myself up on the job."
Allison swallows hard. The water not helping to clear the pins in her throat. She reaches across the table, but pulls her hand back.
"Everything will be fine. Don't worry. He wouldn't want you to and you know that."
The man sighs and nods. "How have you been doing Allison?"
"Better. Not much, but I think the therapy is helping." She fidgets with a thread on her sleeve.
"Good. That's good to hear." He looks at her, and asks, "Did you want to go up?"
Allison's eyes widen, "Are you sure?"
"Yea. I haven't been up there." Just as she suspected. "But the door is unlocked. Just close it behind you when you leave okay?"
She gets up from the table slowly, "Thank you."
When Allison gets the the top of the stairs, she stops for a while. Just looking at the door, not locked completely. Just open enough to see a slither of light coming from the room.
She takes a few deep breaths before pushing the door open and stepping inside. She pushes it close and stands where she is. She closes her eyes for a second to collect herself. It's hard for Allison to look around the room, the very room that he breathed and slept in. She looks at the wall of posters, and drawings. Books spread messily across the desk. But the bed perfectly made. She sits on the edge of the bed and exhales.
A pale yellow envelope sticks out from between two books. She gets up and pulls it out between her fingers. She turns it over in her hand and sees her name written in neat letters on the front.
She contemplates taking it home, or opening it right there where she found it. She decided to stay there. Her finger slid under the slit and ripped the top open. She unfolds the note waiting inside and prepares to read it.
Allison,
I've loved you from the moment I lay eyes on you. I might not have known it myself, but I did. I've loved you for three years, two months, seven days and twenty one minutes. I'll love you for another century, another twenty decades. I'll love you even if you stop loving me. I hope you won't, because I only see myself with you...
A small drop of water falls onto the paper she held in her hand, she goes to wipe her eyes but inside the envelope something moved around. Allison held her palm up and shook the envelope over it. Into her palm fell a small ring. She looks back to the note, her mouth hanging open.
… sitting on a porch, old and in love.
So with this ring, here, I ask you Allison Argent to marry me. Help me make my porch dreams come true.
-Stiles.
By now Allison has erupted into tears, she cups her hand over her mouth because the last thing she wants is for his dad to hear her crying. She pushes the note, ring and all into her purse, uses the hem of her sweater to wipe her face and leaves the room. She stops on her way out to give him a hug and thank him once more.
"Don't be a stranger now." He smiles down at her.
Allison couldn't say no, she couldn't say it's too painful to see him this way, so she doesn't. "I won't." She smiles back at him, and little does she know that's the first time either of them have smiled in a while.
After a night of not much sleep -not the least bit surprising to her when she opened her eyes and realized that she had been twisting and turning all night- Allison gets dressed and goes down to the kitchen where her father is nursing a cup of coffee.
"Morning Dad," Allison mumbles. She notices he's shaved and wearing nice clothes.
"It's 1:30 Allison." He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes.
"You look nice." She allows herself to fall against his body.
He wraps his arms around her and she nestles into his neck. Chris rubs her back gently and talks over her head, "I was thinking I would take you to therapy today. If that's okay with you. You haven't been sleeping and I don't want you on the road like this." He puts his fingers under her chin and lifts her head to study her face.
"Alright. But you don't have to wait for me."
Chris nods and kisses her head. "Get something to eat before you leave."
The ride to the the therapist is silent but not uncomfortable. The rain started to pour as soon as they left the house. Allison watched the wipers push the drops of water to the side and back again. Her head lazily follows the movement, and she doesn't know when she falls asleep. Twenty five minutes later Chris gently shakes her awake.
She offers him a peck on the cheek before stepping out of the SUV and running inside to avoid getting soaked.
Allison rides the elevator alone to the 5th floor and takes a deep breath before knocking on the glass door. It's opened by the doctor, whose name Allison still does not know. Walking to the sofa, she peers at a certificate hanging from the wall. The name on it says Megan Ellison.
Dr. Ellison, says the nameplate on the desk.
"Good Morning Allison, how are you feeling?" She smiles.
"I'm okay." Allison notices that Dr. Ellison has a very comforting smile and a nice, pleasing face. Her red hair reminded Allison of Lydia, except that hers was naturally straight, and she wore it in a ponytail.
After a few questions and digging around, Dr. Ellison finally got down to it.
"Shall we begin then?"
After a few seconds of Derek's voice ringing in Allison's ear - "You're letting him die!" - she dropped to her knees and pulled Stiles' cold hand in hers. His fingers clammy and soft, she kissed each one individually and murmured his name over and over again.
A horn sounded outside immediately after the screeching of tires. Someone had gone out and brought the car around to the side of the house, making it easier to get Stiles out of the house. Isaac and Boyd hoisted him off the floor and carried him out the door. Erica followed, holding the door open.
Allison stared at the pool of blood before her, thoughts swimming through her head, wondering what the hell had just happened. Lydia lay her hand on Allison's shoulder.
"Honey, stand up." Allison shook her head slowly. Not quite sure how to say she couldn't...didn't know how.
"Jackson, Scott. Clean this blood up, will you? Put a cloth in some warm water, wipe it up and dry the floor with some hand towels. And hurry, we need to get to the hospital."
Lydia focused her attention on trying to help Allison move from the floor to the sofa, where the girl sat heavily and blinked a few times before standing up, taking her bag and heading towards the door.
"Allison! Wait. What are you doing?"
"Didn't you just see my boyfriend get shot?" Allison looked at the red head, bewildered.
"Jackson will drive us." Lydia looks back at the boys just as they've finished drying the floor. Jackson walks past them and starts the car outside, Lydia looks in the living room to make sure no one is left behind, closes the door and in fifteen minutes, they're rushing through the emergency doors.
Scott approaches a nurse sitting behind the front desk and asks her if Stiles has been admitted.
"Stiles Stilinksi?"
"Yes..."
The woman nods and types on her computer, "Down the hall to the elevators, take it to the 3rd floor, go left and take the second right."
Scott thanks her and leads the group to the room. A small group has already gathered outside his doors and Allison feels herself become very anxious.
The sheriff sits in the waiting area with his head in his hands, Derek perched on the arm of the sofa next to him. Every one else in the pack loiters, pacing back and forth or standing still with red, puffy eyes.
Allison goes straight up to the door, looks in and starts to cry. He's not there.
"They took him straight into surgery." A familiar voice says behind her. Melissa McCall stands behind her.
"Will he be okay?" Allison asks, no hope in her voice, yet not completely lost.
Melissa smiles. "I won't lie to you. It's pretty bad, but we're trying our best." She wrings her hands.
Allison nods and looks away. She sits with everyone else.
"Did it cross your mind that he was already dead?"
"Honestly, it did. We waited for three hours before anyone gave us information."
The doctor walked into the area and looked at everyone, some sleeping and others barely awake. But once the doctor began to talk to the only person awake which was Allison, each person was awake.
"We've managed to remove the bullet from Stiles' stomach, he is in stable condition and visiting hours for him will be open tomorrow at 9. I suggest you all go home and get some proper rest."
Thanks you's went out to the man and he left the group to chatter amongst themselves.
Derek took Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Scott home. Lydia and Jackson left a while later. The Sheriff stayed with Allison for an hour before he got up and stretched.
"Do you have a ride home?"
Allison said no. Her father didn't know and she didn't know how to tell him. The sheriff lead her down and out to the parking lot. They rode in silence the entire ride to the Argent house.
"Thank you Mr. Stilinksi." Her words stuttered around his name and she left the car with her head hanging.
Inside the house Allison made a cup of tea - two different kettles of water later because she spaced out and all the water evaporated- and told her father what had happened. Chris was visibly upset and vowed to personally destroy Matt.
Allison persuaded him to relax and sleep it off.
The next day at 2 pm, Allison sat next to Stiles on a small stool. She was the only one left, everyone had already come and gone. His father had been there an hour before Allison, just talking to Stiles' unconcious body. Lydia had brought flowers, so did Erica. Boyd, Jackson and Isaac brought him video games and a card that everyone had signed. Scott brought Stiles' favorite hoodie and put it under his arm. Derek stood by the door and looked at him, before he left he entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He rubbed his eyes and whispered something to Stiles, Allison couldn't hear him from outside the windows. But Derek left with puffy eyes and a wet spot on his face.
For the rest of the day Allison slipped in and out of sleep, she played games on her phone, she talked to Stiles about nothing in particular, long moments of silence passing between them. But she never left his side.
Until visiting hours were over and she drove herself home. Home to an empty house, her father no where to be found, until he sent her a text three hours later saying he was at the cemetery and he'd be home soon.
She never heard him come in though because she fell asleep with her clothes on and her shoes still on her feet. Her mind was scattered and her body felt rough around the edges. The only thing left for her to do was sleep. God knows she hadn't gotten any in the past three or so days.
"What was it like seeing him for the last time?"
"I didn't know." Allison shakes her head. "He's connected to all these wires, machines, and there's this constant... beeping. And you know, they kept reassuring me he'd be fine." She breathes out a cynical laugh. "And he wasn't, he wasn't fine."
So after spending too long in the bathroom doing nothing, Allison puts on an old t shirt and shorts and leaves for the hospital again. It's been her home since that night. She grabs her bag and leaves, picking up Lydia on the way there.
"How are you holding up?" Lydia asks, concerned.
Allison taps her thumb on the steering wheel and shrugs. "I'm fine." She eases to a stop before the light turns to red.
She looks over at Lydia and the girl moves her to face the mirror. Allison looks back at herself, bags starting to form under her eyes. "You're fine right? When's the last time you got a full nights sleep?"
Allison thinks back, "Wednesday?" She had spent the night at Stiles' on Thursday, meaning they had no sleep at all. Then Friday night was the dinner, and she spent all her time at the hospital over the weekend.
"Allison! It's Sunday, you've barely slept in three days."
"I'll sleep when Stiles is back home."
Lydia nods and drops the subject. Now focusing on the last time Allison ate.
They ended up stopping by a restaurant on the way to get food Allison felt herself begin to feel better after and silently thanked the heavens that Lydia was her best friend.
At the hospital they both sat in Stiles' room, chatting about any and everything. After what feels like 3 hours, Allison is shaken awake by Lydia.
"Hey, you literally just fell asleep mid-sentence. Let's get you home."
"I, -I can't leave yet."
"You can come back later. Just get at least a couple hours of sleep." Lydia looked at her with a face that said she wasn't giving up until Allison was at home and under the sheets in her bed.
So Allison pushed herself up, planted a kiss on Stiles' warm forehead and whispered, "See you later, love." She then left with Lydia.
By the time Allison has entered her room, her eyelids feel like bricks, she gives in and kicks her shoes off, flopping onto the bed and pulling the covers over herself. She sleeps for 5 hours. Not feeling rested when she wakes up, but knowing visiting hours end at 8 and it was now a little after 6.
Allison called her father on the way and when she got an answer, Chris' voice was shaken, "I'm at the hospital."
She drives a bit faster, getting to the hospital in half the time. She gets in the elevator and the ride up feels like ages. The door opens and her father is standing before her, his face completely pale. Around him, her friends huddle in groups.
"No." Allison points at her father.
"I'm sorry," he holds his hand out.
"You better tell me... you better tell me." She hits his arm.
"No. I'm so sorry Allison."
Her voice breaks and her eyes sting with tears as they roll down her face. She brings her hand up to her mouth and struggles to breath. Her vision goes wild and her head feels constricted.
"What happened- what happened?"
She falls into her father's arms, but tries to keep herself up, eventually her body can't fight anymore and she goes loose. Crying into his shoulder, she looks behind him through the glass and open blinds. A body lay covered on a bed.
"No." She whispers through her tears.
Allison wipes newly forming tears from her eyes and looks at the therapist.
"They had one job, keep him alive. For me, for his dad, for his friends. And they fucked it up. They told me he would be fine, released in a day or two. How wrong were they huh?"
She grits her teeth and swallows thickly, "Anyways..."
The week that followed Stiles' death was a tough one for Allison, she didn't show up for any of her classes, she declined every phone call and ignored every text.
Monday Allison was in a dream like state, she refused to believe Stiles was dead. She texted his phone, not realizing that he wouldn't answer. She went to the hospital, parked outside and then went back home, convincing herself she left something she needed. Only to end up staying home and staring off at nothing.
Tuesday was just as bad, because Lydia and Erica stopped by unexpectedly after school, trying to see if she was okay. She wasn't, not by a long shot. But she put on a brave face and sat infront of the tv with them and drank hot chocolate. They watched three different movies and ran through five bags of pita chips.
Wednesday Allison woke up at 6:30 am. She lay in bed thinking maybe she would get out of the house. "I'm definitely not going to school." She said to herself. So instead of getting dressed for school, she put on some old jeans, a warm jacket, boots and a scarf. Allison walked behind her house and into the woods, the sun was just starting to come out and it was really beautiful. She tugged her sleeves down over her fingers and tucked them under her arm pits. Trying to keep herself as warm as possible from the brisk wind blowing. She ventured deeper into the woods, approaching the Beacon Hills county border. When she reached it, there was a small lake where she sat. She lay spread out on a few rocks where she fell asleep, woken up by the sudden rushing of the water. She treks back home and takes a long shower, washing the leaves from her hair and the dirt from under her nails.
Thursday was horrible. It finally hit her that Stiles was never going to call her at three in the morning to tell her that he had just found another online gaming community of mythical creatures. He would never bring her flowers when he didn't have to, stay with her when she caught the flu, stay on the phone with her until she fell asleep, drive her around when she had nothing else to do. All of that was gone and Allison was just beginning to realize that. She cried for the entire day. From light sobbing to heaving in a matter of seconds.
Friday she got the news that the funeral would be held on Saturday morning. And that's when it all went downhill. An angry scream rang through the Argent house, causing Chris to run to Allison's bedroom. She was still screaming when he opened her door. Her throat went dry and scratchy and her lungs were desperate for air. She took in a deep breath when she saw him and her body slumped, she didn't sit or fall to the floor, she just stood there.
"I wasn't even there." She balls her hands into fists. "Dad, he died, and I wasn't there."
Chris sighed audibly, "Allison, this isn't your fault, there's no way you could have prevented it from happening."
"But I could have been there for him, you know. Just to hold his hand, and let him know that I love him. The last thing I said to him was 'See you later.'
Saturday morning came all too soon. Allison found the black dress in her closet and lay it out on her bed, she straightened the folds with her fingers and looked at how much it resembled the dress she wore to her mother's funeral. A tear fell on the sleeve of the dress when Allison thought about the fact that this was the third funeral she would be attending in 2 years.
Kate.
Her Mother.
And now Stiles.
She never thought the last one would be happening right now. But it was.
And it was one of the hardest things she had to do. She had only known him for so long, but there was an instant connection. Both of them not having their mom around, being broken and not feeling like they're enough. They found it in each other, with Stiles, Allison could be herself, she could be strong and not have to depend on him. But know that he was right there when she needed him.
Allison took a deep, focused breath before she walked into the church. Just beyond the door, Sheriff Stilinski stood, accepting condolences with a small fake smile plastered on his face. Allison hesitates before approaching him, she extends her hand to him and he takes it. He holds on tight and they exchange a look that says, 'I know your loss and I'm sorry.' Allison sees his facade waver slightly and she tries her hardest to be strong for him, if only for just that one moment. She hugs him and walks away. Just as she turns her head, a few tears roll down her face and she wipes them away before anyone can see.
Three rows from the front, her group of friends sit. They all turn to look at her as she walks to them. They scoot back in the pew to give her way to the middle. She sits quietly and smiles at everyone. She offers a small 'Hi." to them. She feels somewhat guilty for abandoning them, because she's sure they've been feeling the same pain over losing Stiles. Because who wouldn't. He was so sweet and he did right by everyone and he didn't deserve this at all. Allison lifts her head and looks around, everyone was wearing black, not one person wore a pinch of color and Allison swallowed thickly.
Scott's mom sits with the Sheriff, holding his hand and rubbing it gently.
It only gets worse when people start to speak. Lydia and Erica go up together to talk about the years before high school with Stiles. Erica picks up where Lydia left off when she started to cry delicately into her hand.
Scott's speech was perhaps one of the most heartbreaking ones of the morning. He read through the tears and sniffles. His pain was so audible and Allison felt so much for him, because that was his best friend, his brother. She dipped her head when she felt her eyes swell with water. She couldn't look at him, her eyes swept over the program that she clutched in her hand and she realized she was to speak next.
When she stood her knees buckled slightly and Isaac grabs her wrist and waist before she falls. He guides her up to the platform and tries to let go, but Allison holds him still, silently asking him to stay.
He does.
Allison unfolds a piece of paper that she had written everything on, the crisp sounds of the paper echoes through the church, everyone had fallen silent. She looks up and out at everyone sitting before her.
"Uhm, I...' Allison looked down and her breath catches when she sees Stiles' pale face in the open casket below her. She raises her hand to her mouth and breathes in and out slowly.
"I know everyone here knew Stiles on some level. But he meant everything to me, he helped me through some of the darkest times in my life. And I don't know how I'll live without him, I mean I will. I'll learn, but he can never be replaced and it's tough, you know? Knowing that this is the last time I'll see him."
Allison runs the back of her hand across her face and leans into Isaac's hand resting on her back.
"I love you Stiles." Allison can't control it because her hands are shaking and this time he won't be saying, 'I love you more.'
She starts to cry right there infront of the entire town, uncontrollable sobs and Isaac leads her away from the stage and towards her seat. He wraps his arm around her and lets her tears soak though his shirt. Lydia sits on her other side and holds her hand.
Allison sits up with blood shot eyes when the Sheriff goes up and her tears swell and fall faster when he talks of how he's lost the two most important people in his life. He leans against the podium and runs his hand through his hair. He shrugs, defeated. He nods and whispers, "I'm really gonna miss my son."
At the burial ground, only the people closest to Stiles remained. Eleven people stood around his graves as they lowered the casket.
Allison was clean out of tears to cry. She had put a small envelope in the casket with him, tucked into the breast pocket of his suit.
The letter in it read,
I do.
That night when Allison was under her sheets and almost ready to fall into a deep, deep sleep. She heard the cry of the five wolves. Loud and clear through the night.
"And what happened to Matt?" Dr. Ellison tilts her head.
"Oh Matt, he was found in the woods, ripped apart...by wolves." Allison watches the woman's face.
"You know there are no wolves in this part of California right?"
Allison narrows her eyes, "Mountain lions."