Disclaimer: I own nothing of Teen Wolf, but I do have a desktop shot! Oh, my...
A/N: Hey, this is just my playing with the season finale based off the look Scott gave Allison at the end of Episode 11 and the teases we'd gotten in the previews. It kind of became a writing prompt which wouldn't leave me alone! I wanted to post this earlier, but also wanted to see what happened, and of course, I was way, way off! I'm only focusing on the Argents and the werewolves and a little Stiles in this. So a bit of AU happening...NO slash involved!
End of the Formal
Scott frowned into the headlights at the front of the bus, his eyes aching as they tried to adjust. His heart leapt, creating that familiar tingle along his skin which served as the warning that he'd best get his emotions in check. His first thought was that Coach Finstock had tracked him down, which would just about be his luck, wouldn't it? He'd finally made up with Allison only to be dragged away from the dance right in front of her.
But then he saw the shift of light move along the side of the bus and heard grinding pavement at his back. He turned towards the second car, cocking his head. The man behind the wheel grinned at him, eagerly.
I know things now, Allison's voice whispered to him.
He looked back to the first car.
Things are different.
Christopher Argent stared through the windshield, grim-faced.
A flash of a battered book winked behind Scott's eyes. Allison's handwritten notes in the margins. Two words circled so hard the page had been indented: Loup Garou.
Werewolf.
I know things now.
Hunters. Hunters who knew. His stomach fell as he took an uneasy step back. The second car's engine let out an ear-splitting roar as the stranger revved it.
Just trust me.
His brow furrowed and he looked up into the bus window, to the shadowed face of the girl he loved. Allison was looking between the vehicles. She knew things now? She had brought him out here. She had secluded him from the dance; from witnesses. Their eyes locked. Pain and confusion sliced through his while she gazed down in startled confusion
Then, tires were squealing and both cars sprang forward. Sparks flew as they forced themselves between the buses. The scream of metal on metal drove all thought from Scott's mind. Adrenaline shot down his spine and he reacted as no human ever could.
He jumped.
The cars stopped, their bumpers inches from one another. Anything unfortunate enough to be caught between them would have been crushed beyond survival. At least, as far as Allison believed. However, her terror at seeing both her father and a family friend attempting to murder her boyfriend was wiped away in sudden mind-numbing bewilderment. Because the cars never touched Scott.
Instead, their prey now crouched with one foot planted firmly on each hood. His breath was visible in the light shining from beneath him.
Allison knelt upon the bus seat, both hands clamped over her mouth. Her eyes were huge above her fingers. Her jaw trembled against her palms as the thing which had been her boyfriend only seconds earlier raised its head. Gleaming gold struck frightened brown and her breath caught in her throat.
That look...she'd seen it before. In the abandoned building where Kate had brought her. She had seen it in the wild blue eyes of a creature named Derek Hale as he stood chained and helpless before her aunt's teasing. She hadn't been able to recognize it at the time, so new to the features of a werewolf's face. But it struck her full force through the grimy bus window from a set of eyes so different and so horrifically the same.
Betrayal.
It turned to its left and then to the right, taking in the two men now trapped within their cars. Fangs distended, glistening in the harsh headlights. Chris Argent regarded him, coldly, lifting his chin in answer to a withering scowl. Allison looked between them, her reality falling in shreds around her as she realized:
The two men she loved most in this world...were strangers to her.
Movement came from her right and she looked to the other car. Terror spiked fresh as Jeff (Happy-go-lucky, Jeff. Hysterical Jeff. Jeff with the wildest stories of his youth) leveled a pistol at the back of Scott's head. An inarticulate squeak spat through her teeth. Scott's pointed ear flicked as the hammer cocked and she saw tension coil through his legs.
Both windshields were blown out in the deafening gunfire. Allsion screamed as shattered pieces tinkled over the roof of her sanctuary and rained down to the dark pavement. She jumped to her feet, pausing just long enough to see her father peek over his steering wheel and begin shouting at his friend.
Scott was gone.
She slammed her hips off the seats as she made her way down the narrow aisle to the front. The heel of her stilettos twisted beneath her and she pitched forward, slapping her palms against the glass. Fingers stinging, she pushed herself upright only to realize she was trapped. The rear of her family's SUV was pinned tight against the exit. She drove her fists against the window, panic squeezing tiny noises from her throat. Chris turned in his seat.
"Dad!" she cried. "Dad, let me out!"
Something she couldn't decipher flashed over his face and then Chris Argent turned his back on his daughter. Her fingers spread over the glass in disbelief. He was shouting instructions over to Jeff, who nodded and threw his car into reverse. The whole bus shook and moaned as the car ground its way free. Jeff turned out of sight and roared from the parking lot.
Her world wobbled again as the SUV slowly moved backward. Allison sat in cold shock on the top step until her father was able to kick his door open. He walked to her, calmly brushing glinting shards from his coat as if nothing out of the oridinary had just happened. They faced each other with only the thin and slightly bent door between them.
"Allison. Get out of the bus."
Scott's feet had barely touch the roof of the second bus before he took off again. He shot down the length of the vehicle and leaped to a low overhang jutting from the school. Up he went, jumping from vents and A/C units and kicking off piping until he rolled over the ledge to the second story roof. He bolted across the open space, one thought driving everything out of his mind for the time being.
Survival.
Vibrations shivered up his legs as he passed over the gym. In some distant corner of his mind that was still connected to this world, he thought he recognized it as the bass of a song. A good one. One he should have been dancing to with his girlfriend. Just like those beneath him were doing.
His vision flickered, calling up the images he had seen throughout the evening. They were innocent enough observations when taken in by the eyes of a teenage boy. The decorations, the music, the loners lounging among the bleacher seats. But through the eyes of the predator who shared his blood, things became far more heinous.
He saw the flash of pale throats in the strobing light. He'd listened to the elated heart rates which created a rhythm more enticing than the DJ's mix. He inhaled the rush of emotions that rolled from his classmates. Nervousness and joy and apprehension and fear. All fueled by the fainter, seductive thrum of blood whooshing through their veins.
Scott's jaws snapped against the night as his human side caught up with the analysis. He pushed the intrigue down, fighting to keep the wolf on course. Trying so hard not to obsess on the prey beneath his feet. But they were not the wolf's priority at the moment.
He'd been attacked, shot at, and had escaped. Any plans it might have had for the young ones below were irrelevant now. All that mattered to it was to continue the escape.
And Scott could agree to that.
He reached the edge of the building and kept going, launching himself into the air. His arms windmilled once for balance and he drew up his knees for his landing. The impact drove a hot lance up his spine, but it was already fading as he surged forward. He blew across this parking lot, hopped the fence, and then he was running beneath the cool cover of trees.
He felt the confines of town slipping away and with them went everything which had defined a young man named Scott McCall. His homework, his schedule, his job, lacrosse...Stiles...his mother. One by one, his ties to the life he knew fell discarded at every property line he passed. Until finally, all that lay before him was national forest.
He kept going until a sense wound through him that he had passed that unofficial boundary which separated well tread paths from trees in which humans should never play. Those wild, untamed trees which hid dangers of the night. The predators, the real hunters, and those creatures of nightmares.
Like himself.
It was there, beyond the reach of prying eyes, that he finally slowed. The pain which had been shoved down in a moment of self-preservation came roaring to the surface in full fury. He dropped to his knees, sliding as his momentum continued onward, and caught himself on his elbows. Stones and pine needles dug into his skin, which was okay he supposed, as his claws bit right back into the soil.
Growls faded into shuddering gasps. He stared at the dark ground between his arms, not even noticing when his fingers lessened and his claws retracted. The power in his shoulders and back dwindled. The discomfort of his too-large cuspids ebbed away. A slight tickle along his cheeks and forehead signaled the departure of his more canine features.
His shoulders heaved against the dark and he slid his legs upward, muddying the knees of his tux. Scott curled in on himself, his fingers pulling clods of dirt to his chest as if gathering the flayed remains of his heart. A sob slipped past clenched teeth.
She knew. She had found out and, like he'd feared, had chosen the other side.
Why wouldn't she? Who would choose a werewolf (one under constant threat of falling to the influence of a serial killer) over their parents? She didn't know that he hadn't been part of the attacks. She couldn't know that he was actually trying to stop the Alpha just like they were...
But she'd known about him.
He thought she had forgiven him.
She had set him up.
He had made her laugh again.
She watched as her father tried to kill him.
He said he loved her.
His cheeks caught fire as embarrassment crawled through his gut. How could he be so stupid? It hadn't been love in her eyes...it had been victory. Only the vivid excitement of a fisherman who'd realized they'd just snagged a trophy mount. He had willingly exposed his heart to her.
She had gladly cut it out.
His back arched, suddenly, as he turned his face towards the sky. A sound of such utter despair tore through him. It was a primal, unchecked howl of agony so great that even in his human skin...he'd never felt more like a monster.
It ripped along the night, stilling animals in their tracks and sending birds into flight. At the outskirts of town, men and women looked up from their novels or televisions with concern. They checked their porches and backyards and called their pets in for the night. Then they locked their doors against him.
Scott's voice wavered into a broken gasp. He panted into the quiet night. His elbows quivered in attempt to keep himself steady. How long he knelt there in the dirt, he could never be sure. His thoughts were scattered and frantic as he searched for something, anything, to pull him back to solid ground. And it seemed an eternity had passed before a voice finally broke through to him.
"Scott?"
He twisted, scrambling backwards half out of surprise and half from instinct. Hollow eyes fell upon the figure framed against the forest. His face full of worry, Peter Hale stepped closer.
"Scott, what's happened to you?"
* Like I said, my guess was off...but it was fun to write! I always appreciate reviews, critiques, suggestions and questions. Part two will be coming soon!
