Do Not Grieve

Summary: Set after the aftermath of the 5a finale, Allison visits and comforts a grieving Stiles in order to help him to come to terms with her death. (Written as a birthday drabble for tinny-tin on Tumblr on 1/19.)

The wails of an ambulance neared closer and closer to Beacon Hills Memorial. Then Melissa was beside Stiles, mouth moving but he could not concentrate.

His father was dying below him.

All because of Theo motherfucking Raeken.

He had found his father at an abandoned building, lying on the floor, begging, pleading, wishing . . . hoping that he wouldn't die.

Stiles couldn't bear the loss his father if it –

No. His dad was strong. He would make it through this.

But he had serious injuries that needed attending to and the next thing Stiles knew, Melissa was holding him back to prevent him from entering the operating room.

Several people watched and turned to Stiles as he sat down into an empty chair. Whispers were floating around – the Sheriff had been attacked. And also, the Sheriff's son was here.

Stiles wrung his hands around, foot tapping impatiently as he waited and sought to hear the news of his father's condition. He couldn't even fathom the thought of his father dying. He could not – would not – allow it.

He prayed desperately to whoever was listening that his father would not die. Not after what had happened with his mother, Claudia.

Not after –

"Stiles."

Melissa's voice broke through his thoughts and he jerked his head up to find Melissa standing in front of him. She had tears in her eyes.

Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. His chest felt like constricting and collapsing into his lungs.

But Melissa said, "He's alive. He's okay. He's okay, Stiles."

And then she was hugging him and Stiles didn't know what would happen if she hadn't been there. He would've probably collapsed onto the floor in relief.

He's alive, Stiles thought repeatedly, sticking it into his brain. Dad's alive. He's . . . alive.

"Can I see him?"

_oOo_

Melissa nodded. They stepped into the elevator and Melissa pressed a button. The doors slid close, reflecting his tired, solemn face staring back at him. He was met with a sense of deja vu, turning his head to look behind him. No one was there, of course, but he couldn't help but remember that the last time he'd stepped foot into this elevator, he'd lied to his dad about his Student ID card and had seen a hallucination of his mom standing behind him. After what seemed like years, the elevator finally halted and opened upon reaching the 3rd floor.

Stiles burst through the doors and raced into the room to where his father was currently resting. He froze for a minute before he steeled himself and entered.

His father laid there on the hospital bed, pale, eyes closed, with white wrappings wrapped around his neck. A breathing tube was stuck up in his nose while the machine beside him clicked, beeped, and whirred continuously per second with each heartbeat. Stiles crossed into the room, blinking back tears. He sat down into the chair placed by the hospital bed, staring at his father's almost still form, his chest rising and falling weakly.

It almost reminded him painstakingly of his mother – right before she had died and left him alone.

Stiles knew that if he ever crossed Theo Raeken again, he was going to kill him. And he didn't care if there were consequences. Hell, he already had blood on his hands.

Allison.

Aiden.

Donovan.

And countless of others. The people he'd slaughtered here at Beacon Memorial with the Oni.

Stiles wanted to stay awake for as long as he could. Melissa had promised to wake him when there were any changes, but Stiles relented, telling her that if his father died while he was asleep, then he wouldn't forgive himself.

His eyes and body betrayed him; the next thing he knew, his head was lolling back against the chair and his eyelids felt heavier than usual. He realized he didn't know the last time he'd gotten a proper good night's sleep.

_oOo_

"Stiles …"

It was a whisper. A very familiar whisper. Which came from a voice he hadn't heard in over a year.

He blinked himself awake. The blurry view in front of him sharpened, clearing into focus like a camera.

There was whiteness all around him.

Stiles began to panic. He bolted up and scrambled to his feet. He looked around wildly, realizing where he was.

He was in the White Room. Stiles remembered that the last time he'd been here, he'd sacrificed himself in a bathtub in exchange for his father and died. Then in the very, very last time Stiles had been here, he'd played a game of Go with the Nogitsune while Scott and Lydia came to rescue him.

In front of him was the Nemeton, the white tiles underneath it cracked and broken as the huge roots poked through the floor. Except …

Was it his imagination or was the stump growing?

No, it really was growing. The stump grew steadily, branches materializing as it reached its full height. The gigantic tree loomed over him. Stiles somewhat figured that this is what the Nemeton must've looked like before it had been cut down. A flow of warmth spread through him, unlike the previous darkness and evil he was met with the last time he came across it. He gaped at the tree and briefly wondered if this was what Noshiko had come across during her time in 1929.

The White Room shimmered and then, soon was replaced with the forest of Beacon Hills Preserve. Sunlight peeked through the forest, a bright blue sky hovering above him. Birds chirped and owls hooted.

It was the first time Stiles could actually remember the Nemeton being alive and the animals willingly wanting to be around it.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

He turned and froze. He almost wanted to cry. Because when he turned, he was met with a familiar face.

Bright dark brown eyes stared back at him. Her lips were curved into a soft smile. She wore the same clothes she'd been in when she died except for the large gaping wound pouring through her body.

Stiles moved his mouth, unable to speak. He looked at her, tears welling in his eyes and he forced himself to blink tears back.

"Allison," he breathed out. Without noticing, his arms were around her slender, athletic body. Her arms wrapped around his, embracing Stiles back.

"Stiles." Allison held him and then she pulled back, smiling. "It's been a while."

Stiles stared at Allison for a moment. "Is this another trick?"

She watched him as she spoke, shaking her head. "It's not a trick, Stiles. The Nogitsune is gone. This isn't another one of his games, I promise. I'm really here. Well … . as real as I can be in your dream."

Stiles thought for a moment, taking in Allison's words. He tried not to think about the last time he'd seen Allison, but nonetheless it had popped back into his head. The Nogitsune had used Allison and Aiden's deaths to push him over the edge, all the while threatening to kill Scott, Lydia and the rest if he didn't let him in. The hallucination of Allison blamed Stiles for letting her die, saying that it was his fault that she –

It's not my fault.

But Stiles knew that it was. It was his fault. Because if he'd hadn't been so weak … if he'd never let the Nogitsune in and became Void …

Allison wouldn't have died. She would still been with the Pack today. Isaac would've stayed and not disappeared to France. Kira would've made a new best friend and have training practice with Allison with their weapons. Allison probably would've dealt with Scott biting Liam a whole lot better than they did. Lydia wouldn't have become withdrawn and so distant from the Pack following Allison and Aiden's deaths.

There was a whole lot of other things Stiles could have listed that Allison would have fixed just by being there.

"I've missed you," he said finally.

She smiled sadly. "I've missed you, too. All of you." Allison looped her arm around Stiles and together, the two began to walk. He wasn't so sure where they were walking to, but he didn't care.

A question nagged in Stiles' mind as he hesitated to ask it. "Are you …"

"A ghost?" Allison chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm just a figment in your head. Only you can figure it out."

Stiles stopped in his tracks as he turned his head toward Allison. She looked back at him, waiting, watching as he studied her.

If Stiles looked and concentrated hard enough, he saw that Allison somewhat became corporeal, see through as if she was a ghost.

"You're really here. H-How?"

Allison frowned, her thick eyebrows curving. "I'm not so sure. One minute I was there … and the next thing I know, I'm here. Being pulled into your dream. I guess you were thinking of me subconsciously."

They had taken up walking again.

"When you said 'you were there', what did you mean by that? Is this limbo or something?" Stiles asked.

Allison sighed. "In a way. I guess, this is limbo, but you know, it's somehow connected to dreams. Because dreams can be part of both the life and the death. And where I was before I came here … I was with Isaac."

"Isaac?" Stiles asked, bewildered. "But he's … He's not –"

Allison, upon realizing what she had said, quickly corrected herself. "No, no. He's not dead. He's doing good. Okay, I guess … A little bit better. Still saving the world over in France, honoring my code."

"'We protect those who cannot protect themselves,'" Stiles quoted, remembering.

Allison smiled genuinely. She nodded, a short dark brown curl falling over one shoulder. "Yeah. He ran into Cora sometime last year, around the time you guys went into Mexico to save Derek. They're dating now."

Stiles was quiet. "Huh. Wow, Isaac and Cora. Who would've thought? Bet you Derek won't be happy about this once he comes back."

They paused in their steps. And Stiles realized that Allison was holding her bow in her hands.

"Allison," he began. "I'm –"

"It wasn't your fault, Stiles," Allison told him, lowering her bow, shifting it to one hand while she used the other to place it on Stiles's own hand. "I've seen the way you've been acting ever since my death. It wasn't your fault. It was the Nogitsune. Not you."

"But it's still my fault. I have your blood on my hands," Stiles continued. "If I'd just never let him in … Look, Ally, I might've not triggered the Oni, but the Nogitsune was wearing my face, my body. He had my mind, he knew all of my thoughts … My weaknesses. It might've not been me that triggered that Oni, but it might as well have."

Allison closed her eyes. "Stiles …" She took a deep breath, her eyes opening as they met his. "I want you to listen to me and I want you to listen close."

Her hand gripped his as she squeezed it for reassurance – but mostly to get Stiles to understand what she was trying to tell him.

"Part of the reason why I'm still here is because of you. You won't forgive yourself. I need you to understand that my death wasn't your fault. I died because I chose to protect you. I chose to stay and protect my friends. I chose to stay and I tried to help you defeat the Nogitsune. I could've left at anytime. But I didn't because you're my friend. All of you were – are – my friends. Nothing will ever change that in here – death – or life. None of this was your fault. And I know it probably isn't enough to convince you that you had no part in my death … But I would never blame my death on you in any circumstances – life or death."

Stiles was quiet as he listened to Allison as she gave her speech. Actually hearing her voice in person for the first time in over a year, made him think. Was she right and he wrong? Or was it all a lie and the Nogitsune was just messing with him again?

But the more Stiles thought about it, the more he began to realize that she was right. He did need to forgive himself. It wasn't doing himself any good. He thought about the year before school had started, right up until the Benefactor ordeal.

How he'd took Malia on as his girlfriend without them really talking about what happened in Eichen House. How he realized that when she said it didn't matter if he'd killed Donovan - and it did matter – that they never understood each other's emotional needs. Their relationship was built on lust and sex.

How Stiles had saved Scott at the haunted motel and now, somewhat in that same situation, Scott wouldn't believe him. And now he realized that Theo must've done something, switched all the words around so he made it seem that Stiles was the bad guy. But he couldn't understand why Scott would believe an old childhood friend – who he hadn't seen in years by the way – over someone that he knew almost his entire life.

He thought about Lydia and how everything seemed to impact her. How she went from the most popular girl in school to a likable woman who had the power to find death and dead bodies. How the night when Tracy had attacked her with her Kanima tail that Stiles couldn't breathe. How he saw her lying there on the floor in pain and he couldn't do anything about it. How she'd seen him and saw him about to have a panic attack. She had stopped it with her smile even though she must've been in agony. He didn't want to leave her and well …

He took a shuddering breath and looked toward Allison. "Scott hates me. He doesn't know Theo twisted up the whole Donovan ordeal. He won't want me back," he said bitterly. "He trusted Theo Raeken over me."

"I know. But Scott's going to need you. Something worse is coming, worse than Theo and the Dread Doctors. You'll need to bring the whole Pack together again. Or you'll die. And I can't have that. Find Isaac and Cora and Jackson and Braeden and Derek. Protect those who cannot protect themselves."

The air around them seemed to get colder and Allison drew her bow, notching an silver arrow. Stiles didn't understand what was happening but heard the sound of gears clicking. "You need to go. Save Lydia," she rushed out, grabbing his arm, leading them back to the Nemeton. "She's the key to bringing the Dread Doctors. I'm so sorry I have to do this."

Allison gave him another fierce hug and pulled back, her dark brown eyes wandering over his face. She kissed his cheek gently. "Tell everyone I love them. Remember what I said."

"Allison!" The dream began to crumble and Stiles jolted awake, the last image of Allison smiling at him seared in his brain. He took a few minutes to adjust to his surroundings in his father's hospital room. He sat there, Allison's words coming back to him.

Scott's going to need you. Something worse is coming, worse than Theo and the Dread Doctors. You'll need to bring the whole Pack together again. Or you'll die. And I can't have that. Find Isaac and Cora and Jackson and Braeden and Derek. Protect those who cannot protect themselves.

I will, Ally. I promise.

- FIN. Leave a comment to let me know what you thought :)