Four fics in one night is quite a record, and it's all because of this episode, it's literally tearing my brain to pieces.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. I own my tears.
She nocks an arrow; draws the bow string taut to her cheek. Aims.
The Oni's blank mask stares her down.
She fires. The arrow finds her target, slices through fabric and flesh, the silver tip piercing deep.
She feels a brief flare of triumph. It is promptly extinguished as pain tears, rips, shreds through her abdomen, and she draws a surprised, pained breath as she looks down and sees the tip(more than the tip, actually) of a sword protruding from her stomach. She vaguely hears gasps and shouts; Isaac and Scott, she thinks to herself.
Her knees go weak(numb?), and she falls, doesn't even try to stop it, knows that there is an incredibly slim chance of her living, and if she does, it won't be a pleasant existence.
She knows this because she can't feel her lower half anymore.
Her legs are lax and unmoving in her boots, and she dimly thinks she'd quite like to move them, when Scott's arms wrap around her. Warm, solid, dependable Scott. She loves him more than ever, thinks she never stopped, really.
He says something, and she replies, gasping jerkily and coughing a little. Her hands are red.
Is my blood really that red?
She actually can't feel much at all, and when Scott tries to take her pain, she just explains to him in a whisper that it doesn't hurt. Somewhere Lydia is screaming, shrill and piercing, even wherever she is. She'll be fine. They all will be, after this. They will stop the Nogitsune, and save Stiles.
But they will have to do it without her.
She remembers her father suddenly, and stutters out a sentence to Scott. He nods, tears building in his stupidly pretty eyes as he agrees. Something else important is pressing at the corner of her mind, not quite tangible just yet, as the edges of her vision begin to blur, and sharp copper coats her tongue thickly. As she gets weaker and weaker, her heartbeat slowing uncomfortably, breathing skipping and hitching, she manages to force out one last, inexorably important, short sentance.
"I love you."
As she dies, she manages to think one final thought.
Cold.
Allison Argent dies without fanfare, in the arms of her first love, and goes cold while he weeps.
