There is no breeze in the air as Scott walks through the graveyard. It seems almost symbolic, like the air can't bear to breathe if the people buried below can't. Scott feels himself holding his own breath and noticed the silence surrounding him. The atmosphere is quiet and almost peaceful. But there is a sadness surrounding the area too. It occurs to Scott that the sadness could be coming from him, as it always does. As a werewolf he is supposed to be able to scent emotions in the air, but his own grief seems to overpower any other scent these days.

Finally he arrives at the same spot as always. Her tombstone is simple. It reads:

"Here lies Allison Argent.

Loving daughter, dedicated friend.

Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes."

The grass has grown a little longer since last week. It leans slightly onto her grave, brushing it gently. The dirt is damp from the rain earlier today and Scott wonders if the rain has sunk low enough in the ground to reach her. It's a morbid thought and he quickly shakes off the worry, focusing on the way the left over rain drops trickle on her tombstone like tears, and the way the dirt has darkened with the rain and how it reminds him of her dark hair.

Scott leans down and places the fresh flowers onto her grave, letting a hand rest on the dirt for a moment. His eyes prickle but he holds the tears back, bowing his head slightly. He is not here to cry. Leaning back, he lets his body slump into a sitting position just next to the tombstone, wet grass ignored. He slings one arm over his knees while his other hand stays placed on the grave. This is the closest he can get to touching her now.

"Hey Ally." His voice is thick already. There is a brief moment where he notices a hint of breeze brushing over his hand, but it's probably just his own breath moving through the air. He clears his throat, a sharp grunt before he powers on.

"So, it's been just over four months now. Which is crazy because I can still remember every detail like it was yesterday. I guess the constant nightmares are the cause of that. Mom wanted to send me to another psychologist to see if that helps, but it's kind of hard when I can't really give them the full story. And I'm not going to Eichen House for help. I can't go back there, I can't risk walking through those gates again when all it does is remind me of you on the other side…falling down…"

Scott pauses, shaking his head as the tears resurface.

"Sorry, I didn't come here to cry or anything. I came here because...Well because talking to you has always kept me sane. You always kept me sane. "

Another pause. Scott hand's slowly trace a small circle in the dirt. Allison has always been his anchor. It was her existence that stopped Scott from spiralling into the dark, tethering him to the good that everyone needed him to be. She's gone now, and Scott feels the darkness every day, pushing its way into him inch by inch. Everyone keeps telling him that coming here every week as he does isn't healthy. That it will only make him stuck, unable to truly grieve and move on. But Scott doesn't want to move on. Moving on is terrifying. Moving on means giving up the one part of him that he needs right now. It means admitting that he lost her.

"I guess I should update you, as usual. Nothing major has happened since last week, which is a relief. I don't think I could handle round two of that omega wolf. Remember I told you about that last week right? The one that just arrived and started attacking everyone in Beacon Hills basically and then tried to attack the pack. Just when we thought things were safe for a while. I mean we made it a whole two weeks without any drama, even when I knew there was a new werewolf nearby. I thought omegas were meant to be weaker, but that girl was almost completely inhuman. Malia says the girl must have been on her own for a long time to get that savage. I guess Malia would know. She was the only one able to get through to that girl, so we were all pretty lucky there. I'm definitely glad we found Malia when we did because honestly she's is the coolest.

She and Stiles are still a thing, I guess? I don't really know. Their whole relationship is a bit weird but it seems stable enough. Stiles doesn't really talk about her much but they're always together and when she smiles at him it makes me think of you. So that must mean something good."

Scott cuts off. The words bring back a flood of memories, all of Allison; her gaze on his, a deadly weapon in each hand as she stood by his side, always fighting for him. He breathes in and out, mind deep in thought before he collects himself enough to resume.

"Right. So. Uh. I should say this but it feels weird. I mean you already kind of knew it but we never talked about it properly. And I should have mentioned this ages ago but it just felt like too much to say out-loud. But I'll say it now. So. Right. Well Kira and I have been sort of dating. I mean we were. We tried. I tried so hard. I tried having a fresh start, a new chance. I mean things had sort of started between us before...before you..."

Another halt. Four months on and he still can't say it without choking.

"Before you died. I remember the disco at Derek's loft. I remember seeing you walk in. I remember holding Kira's hand and then seeing your face and it was weird but it was okay. I wanted it to still be okay after you died but it was too much. I know you'd want me to be happy, to be with someone and to love someone again. But I meant it when I said I'd wait for you, I just thought we had more time. I thought we were making our way back to each other. Sure, there was Kira and you had Isaac, but I thought it was you and me. It was supposed to be you and me. You told me you loved me, and then you stopped breathing and I didn't get to say it back. I didn't get to tell you that I love you. "

Scott's throat closes up, cutting off his rant. There is a long silence. The air remains still, holding its breath as Scott tries to slow his own breathing down. His hand slowly traces a larger circle in the dirt around the first.

"I do love you. Kira has been great about it. We talked about it when she sensed I wasn't really into it I guess. She said I could take my time and if nothing happens, that's cool too. It must be a bit rough for her but she's been really supportive. I wanted to move on, give her a chance, but it's nice having a friend too. It's nice to have someone to talk to when Stiles isn't around, or when our plans fall apart, or when I miss you."

Scott takes another breath in and out. He realises that having to remind himself to breathe probably isn't a great sign of sanity, but it's the only real option sometimes. It feels strange to breathe out when the air is so still around him. His own breath feels out of place, a harsh reminder of where he is.

"I guess that's all there is to say this week. I just needed to tell you that. Nothing else really to report. It's been kind of nice to have a quiet week amongst the chaos. It's rare so I'll take it. I mostly just played video games with Stiles and worked with Liam on his transformations. He's getting even better so I'm pretty sure he'll be fine with the full moon next month. But other than that I guess nothing else happened."

Scott bites his lip, trying to think of something, anything else to say to keep himself here. But the sky is darkening already, his cue to head back home. He stands, brushing the grass from his pants. Before he can fully stretch his legs, he is crouching down again, unable to truly keep his distance from her, even now.

"Allison, I miss you. I just really really miss you. I need you even more than I did before. Look, I know things are quiet but it's the calm before the storm. And I don't know how to get through these storms without you. I've got the pack but I miss you."

A long sigh escapes his lips before he finally stands up fully.

"I'll be back next week. I love you, Allison Argent."

He whispers his goodbye, his eyes lingering on the two circles he has carved into the dirt of her grave, a replica of the open wound on his own arm.

As Scott stands, he is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice the soft breeze passing over him.