Crossover Series: Part 1

Title: Lingering at the Start

Pairing: Allison/Scott (past relationship), Allison/Isaac, Scott/Kira, Stiles/Derek (preslash and building)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Canon typical violence for both Teen Wolf and The Walking Dead. Blood and Gore. Not everyone is going to survive.

Summary: Teen Wolf/Walking Dead Crossover - Having survived their Junior year, the McCall Pack has just enjoyed some well-deserved R&R, a nice little uninterrupted camping trip away from the supernatural turmoil of Beacon Hills, CA. They don't know that things have been happening in town, that things have been happening everywhere. Their first warning is the phone call. Their second is Lydia's voice, rising up and echoing out in every direction. The dead are walking and no one is safe.

Author's Note: This is going to be a multi-story saga, that ends with a full crossover between the two shows. The first story is completed and I am currently writing story 2.

Ch. 1.

Lydia is laughing in the backseat with Kira, debating about the best way to wear your hair in a crisis. Allison is turned around in her seat beside Stiles, laughing and arguing for the benefits of a bun ("It keeps your hair out of the way, but it's harder for an enemy to grab onto than a ponytail!"), while Stiles fights not to roll his eyes. The four of them are crammed into Stiles' jeep, because Scott had commandeered Derek's Soccer Mom car for a werewolf only boys club meeting. No humans, kitsune's or banshees allowed. Stiles had tried not to feel paranoid about being regulated to the chick car. Allison had smirked at him, and smooched him on the cheek before dragging him over toward his jeep.

"C'mon, Stiles. We're way more fun than them anyway. Let them talk about their manly wolfy business. We have plotting to do." She had wiggled her eyebrows at him and claimed shotgun, running around the jeep to the passenger side. Lydia had sighed audibly, rolling her eyes and climbed into the back with Kira. The discussion had started about the proper footwear to wear to a gunfight. Kira had advocated combat boots. Allison had argued that any kind of boots worked really. Lydia had chimed in with argument for sensible flats that could be kicked off easily. She'd smacked Stiles in the back of the head to get him to answer. "Sneakers, obviously," he had replied, scrubbing at the back of his head. "And no I'm not going to get into a debate about Nike's vs Reeboks." Their laughter had been loud, and sort of heartwarming.

They were returning from a camping trip. A post-Junior-year-everyone-survived-spring-semester pack celebration which had culminated in the 7 of them having spent a week in the woods on the far side of the nearest National Park. They'd wanted to get away from everything. Everyone leaving their electronics locked in the trunk of the Derek's car, only Stiles cellphone turned on in case there was an emergency back home.

Allison's dad had dropped a hard black gun case in the back of Stiles' jeep as they were saying goodbye, sliding it in under a couple of sleeping bags before kissing Allison on the forehead. "Be safe," he had said, voice weighed down and a bit weary. Allison had looked down at the hidden gun case and raised an eyebrow at him. "You never know," he had said with a half joking smirk. "Just take it. It'll make me feel better." She'd nodded.

"It's only for a week," she'd replied.

"A lot can happen in a week. I think the last year and a half has proven that, more than once." His eyes were sad and the smile had dropped off Allison's face. She'd hugged him tightly.

"Still heading up North?" she had asked. He'd nodded, releasing her from the hug.

"Yes, I'll be back before you are. Call me when you get home," he had ordered, climbing into his SUV. She had waved goodbye, turning to help Scott finish loading the cars. The gun case was still in the back of the jeep. Allison hadn't so much as touched it since her father put it there.

Stiles isn't thinking about the gun now, in this moment, watching trees fly by the window as they take the back roads heading toward home. It had been a good trip. They'd had fun. The wolves had chased each other through the woods. The entire pack had shared stories, gone hiking, and swimming in the river. They'd eaten trail mix and roasted hotdogs and made s'mores. Much bonding had taken place but now Stiles is looking forward to sleeping in his own bed tonight, to a summer of x-box and youtube videos, and probably some research. He wants a summer like last year, mostly quiet and restful and fun. A summer designed to help them gear up for their senior year starting in the fall.

"Well, I prefer braids," Lydia says, joining in the debate on combat ready hairstyles. It should really bother Stiles that the entire ride so far had centered around fashion for the girl who can kick ass, (with one minor detour into proper blade sharpening and care) but he's sort of enjoying this look into the minds of the girls he admires. It's like free insider information. "Seriously," Lydia continues. "Think about it. Braids are fun, they can be fancy, or utilitarian. They keep your hair out of your eyes, and if you pin them in place, they're much harder to grab than a ponytail or say a big. Messy. Bun." She looks pointedly in Allison's direction. Allison laughs, turning to look at Lydia with a huge grin, and any of Stiles lingering resentment about being in the chick car flies right out the open window and the sight of her epically deep dimples. It's really no wonder both Scott and Isaac had fallen head over heels for the girl. Don't even get Stiles started on her heart or her brain or her kick ass and amazingly varied weaponry skills.

"I don't know. I think my buzzcut worked pretty well at avoiding gripping fingers," he throws in just to hear them all laugh again.

"Buzzcut?!" Kira asks, eyes wide and astonished. She looks at Lydia. "You didn't seriously let him have a buzzcut did you?" Lydia smirks.

"I had nothing to do with it. That was back when Stiles was the strange flailing little puppy who liked to follow me around all the time. So glad he grew out of that," she teases. Stiles smirks, shaking his head, glad they have reached a point in their friendship, actual friendship!, where they can joke about it. "Sometimes I kind of miss it," Lydia says almost fondly.

"The puppy-like devotion or the buzzcut?" Kira asks, spurring them into a fresh wave of laughter. Stiles feels his face and ears heat.

"Ha Ha Ha. You all wish you had someone as dedicated to worshiping you as I was to Lydia!" he says over their laughter.

"Was?" Allison teases.

His phone rings then, before he can reply to the good-natured ribbing. He checks the ID, answering it, and hitting speaker.

"Hey, Dad. I'm driving right now, and before you say anything, yes I have you on speaker and," he reaches for Allison's hand puts the phone in it, "Allison is holding it up for me. So no lectures!" he jokes.

"Stiles, where are you?" the line is staticky, but Stiles can hear the edge in his father's voice. Not anger, but fear, but panic.

"We're on our way back. Dad, what's wrong?" he asks. Darting a look at Allison's concerned voice before turning back to the road. He honks twice, and throws on his turn signal, pulling over to the side of the road. He watches Derek do the same, a few yards ahead of them. "Dad?"

"Something's happening. Listen carefully… straight here. Don't stop.. Don…. Home… Sheriff's station. Hurry. Don't argue. Come straight….ere."

"Dad?" he asks, panic clawing at his throat.

"Stiles… attacking… come to the station… now!" and then the call ends. Stiles forces himself to take two deep breaths, and grabs the phone from Allison's slack fingers. He checks the screen 'call dropped.' He redials, but gets a shrewd beeping in his ear, and a message about overloaded phone lines, and directions to try again later. Stiles flings open his door, throwing himself toward Derek's car, where the werewolves in the pack are quickly getting out with concerned faces.

"Stiles!?" Scott calls.

"Phones! Get out the phones!" Stiles yells. Isaac turns to the trunk of Derek's car, and scrambles around for the bag holding everyone else's phones.

"What the hell is going on? Stiles talk to me!? Allison?" Scott asks, watching her jog up behind Stiles.

"We got a call from the Sheriff. He sounded…" She makes a face trailing off, concerned eyes staying on Stiles. Stiles tries dialing again, gets another error message.

"Scared out of his freaking mind!" Lydia finishes. "He sounded terrified." She says catches up to them with Kira in tow.

"It still won't go through!" Stiles says, frustrated and gripping his cellphone in one tight fist.

"He said to come to the Station. Not to go home. Not to stop. And something about attacking," Kira says, looking confused. Scott steps closer to her automatically, protectively, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Ok, Stiles just take a breath. I'm sure he's fine. We'll head straight there," Scott says. Isaac finds the bag with all their cellphones and starts to hand them out. "Everyone try to get through. Isaac, I want you and Allison with Derek, I'll go in Stiles' jeep with Kira and Lydia. We'll keep the cars close enough to hear a shout. If you get through let us know. No stopping until we reach the station. Ok?" Everyone nods, Stiles is already redialing, even as he heads for the jeep.

That's when Lydia starts screaming and screaming and screaming.