It wasn't that they never figured things out ever since she was gone.
It's just that it was much harder without a selfless best friend by Lydia's side; without a reason to smile for Chris, who goes home to an empty, soundless, and, in the worst way, serene apartment; without an anchor for Scott, who was more prone to shifting; without a fearless—although she denied it countless times—hunter in the pack.
Lydia hated how her best friend died. The hunter was killed attempting to find the banshee, although Lydia was quite sure she tried to stop all of them from coming. But it was her stubborn, loyal best friend- the person who you can't argue with when it comes to saving the people she loves.
"Nous protegeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se proteger eux-memes." All Lydia thought was that the huntress, the one who Lydia never expected to love this much, died living by her code.
It almost killed him when Victoria died, and now, Chris is all alone. But he can't just sit around and mope, right? He still has a code to live by, no matter what happens. Sometimes Chris needed to help out with the pack, which counts negotiations-turned-violent-battles with people. Most of the time, he'd need some help, and he'd nonchalantly look for his daughter, long gone.
"Sweetheart, please take the—" he'd say, only to realize that she wasn't there. She wasn't there to take the man's gun; she wasn't there to scheme plans; she just wasn't there. Those were the days Chris went home bloodied and bruised, all because of longing for the daughter who would never come back.
The time came when the Nogitsune finally wanted to end it all through a fight. All of them saw it coming; all of them knew that somehow they'd have to face it. Scott was prepared, Derek took the lead, Kira was there to help out and Isaac insisted on coming, although he wasn't that good in combat.
They fought for hours, and with the Oni controlled by the Nogitsune around, it was nearly impossible for them to have the upper hand.
And when Isaac took his final breath, injured and nearly consumed by darkness, all he heard from Scott was a final favor, and not one too difficult. A silent agreement, and both of them knew what— or, more appropriately, who— Scott was talking about.
"Take care of her for me. Please."
Because things were much harder without her, and Scott wanted to make sure that somehow, the girl who thought of others before herself, even when she was dying, was okay, even if they weren't. Somehow Scott knew that she wasn't scared of whatever waited for her. And that the fearless warrior would tell all of them not to blame themselves; would tell all of them to carry on. That it would be okay. That's what kept him going.
Allison.