A/N: This story was written for the Teen Wolf ficathon hosted by portions_forfox on LJ in response to the prompt: Danny/Scott, past Scott/Allison, this is the skin I live in. This is not related to any of my previous stories. Thanks always for reading and commenting.

The full story is three chapters and features no content more titillating than a kiss.

Thistle and Down

by LadySilver

Allison came to sit with Scott in the hospital, a fact which surprised him because he expected her to be jealous or bitter or angry, and all he saw was concern. She'd gotten tougher over the past couple months, trading in more of her insecurity for a straighter posture and a stronger step, and there were times he didn't recognize her. Yet, when she pulled a chair up next to his and sat down across from Danny's bed as if she belonged there too, Scott had to swallow down a sudden lump in his throat.

She wore a loose dark pink sundress with white flowers scattered across it and pink flip-flops in deference to the summer heat, and she looked so casual and carefree that if it weren't for how she held herself, Scott could almost believe that no darkness had ever touched her life. She smoothed her skirt across her lap when she sat down, then crossed her legs and settled back. They sat together for a long time, their hands slowly creeping closer until they locked together with entwined fingers.

As if that was the signal she'd been waiting for, Allison gave Scott's hand a tight squeeze. "He's going to be OK," she assured him. "I overheard the nurses talking.

Scott nodded dumbly, sure that she was telling the truth—he'd overheard the nurses too-, but not ready to believe it until Danny said so himself. His boyfriend lay on the hospital bed, as he had for the last day. No one was sure why he wasn't waking up. He'd suffered no more than minor scrapes in the attack, and the MRI had turned up no signs of a head injury or any other internal injury. The doctors had no medical reason they were sharing for Danny's coma, and that only made it all worse because no reason meant that any attempt at a treatment was, at best, random.

The worst part, Scott thought, was that he couldn't tell the doctors or police what really happened.

"Was it a werewolf?" Allison prompted, breaking into the whirlwind of what ifs spinning through his mind. She leaned closer to him, tilting their heads together so they wouldn't have to speak so loudly. Though there was constant activity outside the room door—footsteps and fading conversations and the squeaking wheels of so many carts—it was all muted as if it belonged to some other world. "Is there a new Alpha in town? A new pack?"

Scott dragged a hand through his already mussed brown hair, trying to make sense of what had happened. In defiance of his efforts, his hair promptly flopped back into his face. He'd told a version of the story a couple times, modifying details as necessary depending on whom he was talking to. Telling the truth at last felt weird, like this was the story he was making up; he had to force himself not to pare out the details.

"Not a werewolf," he said with a shake of his head. "We were swimming at the old quarry, a-and it came up out of the water, and it—" He had to stop to compose himself, Allison's tightened grip on his hand helping as it always had.

Scott closed his eyes. He could picture the moment perfectly. He and Danny had gone swimming, seeking relief from both the sweltering heatwave that had hit Northern California and the curious eyes of friends who knew both too much and too little about the boys and their histories. They had been taking turns dunking each other and the walls of the quarry rang with their laughter.

Danny stood up, his tanned skin wet and glistening. Under sunlight filtered through a fine cloud layer, Scott had been struck by a moment of surrealness, that this was who he was and this was who he loved. That everything that had happened in his life had brought him here. A mere six months before, Danny had been little more than jerk-Jackson's jerk friend, and Scott had been certain that he'd be stuck going to Senior prom with Stiles. Then there'd been werewolves and Allison, and his life had spun so far out of control one direction, that when it went careening back the other he'd stopped trying to make sense of things and just gone along for the ride. So, seeing Danny standing there waist deep in the water, caught half way through a laugh had stunned him.

He'd been so enraptured in that moment that he hadn't heard the thing rushing through the water. His first warning was Danny's eyes widening in horror. His second was the change in water pressure on his chest and legs as the thing reared up behind him. His third was a slam of hatred that rocked him forward. They'd all happened on top of each other, and he'd only pulled the sequence apart because of how often he'd played that scene over while listening to Danny's steady, unwaking breaths.

"He was trying to save me," Scott continued, unbelieving. "H-he knocked me out of the way. It grabbed him and pulled him under. By the time I got to him…." He trailed off, the rest of the story evidenced right in front of them. He'd yanked Danny from the monster's limbs and dragged him out of the water. The gray rocks were sun-warmed, crumbling and chipping to make for unsteady footing. Scott had gotten Danny deposited onto the blanket they'd spread out earlier for a picnic. Danny had been unconscious, laying limp and pallid against the red weave, though breathing just fine. He hadn't inhaled any water nor was he bleeding. Nothing had changed since. "The thing was huge," Scott concluded with a widening of his eyes. "I've never seen anything like it."

He shouldn't have been surprised, Scott thought, that the worlds had collided again. He just wasn't expecting … he dragged his fingers through his hair again… what? For it to happen so soon? He didn't know why, but he kind of thought that he and Danny would get some time to themselves before all hell broke loose. He should have known better.

"Scott, you did everything you could," Allison told him.

"He was trying to protect me," Scott repeated, his vision fixed on nothing, the words ones he had to say but couldn't accept. "He thought I was the one in danger."

"Was the thing after you?"

Scott had to think about the answer, untangling the complexities of the emotion he'd felt from the monster. At last he said, "Yeah." He drew a breath, exhaled. "It was. It didn't want me there. I don't think it's going to stop, either. It felt—" he searched for the right word, and finally settled on, "determined."

"Like it's picked you as a target and isn't going to stop until you're dead?" Allison clarified.

"Exactly like that," Scott replied. He didn't add that kids went swimming in the quarry all the time and no one had ever been attacked. Whatever the thing was, it must have targeted him because he was a werewolf. He figured Allison would have already worked that out on her own.

Allison opened her mouth to say something and closed it again, her eyes cutting away. A dot of stray mascara marred the smooth skin next to her nose and her dark brown hair hung loose and straight around her face, like she had been interrupted before she could finish getting ready for the day. When she spoke next, her words were schooled, careful. "Does he know?"

So many things Allison could have meant with that question, Scott thought: Does he know what attacked him? Does he know how much I love him? Does he know that it's time to wake up. Allison could have meant any of those, but she didn't.

Scott shook his head, slumping forward in the seat. "No. I was afraid I'd lose him, too."

"You didn't lose me because you're a werewolf," she pointed out, softly.

He twisted around, raised his eyebrows at her. As far as he was concerned, that was exactly why he'd lost her.

"There was always too much stacked against us," she explained. "The stuff with Peter and Kate and Derek, that would have all happened anyway. Didn't you ever wonder why my family came to Beacon Hills when we did?"

Scott's brow furrowed because it never had occurred to him to wonder. He'd been so in awe of her presence that he'd never thought about the timing. Funny how stupid things that should be obvious could be so easy to miss.

"My family has been Hunters for generations," she continued. "I was always going to be one too, though I think my dad would have liked for me to graduate high school first." She chuckled on the last, a short sound that grated against the ambient noises of the room. With her free hand, she captured the hem of her skirt and began twisting it. "Yeah, the werewolf thing didn't help, but really … it only sped up the inevitable." She tried to offer a smile, but it didn't sit right on her lips.

Scott missed seeing how she would glow when they talked. He regretted that he'd taken that from her. "I'm sorry," he offered.

"For what? Moving on with your life?" She scoffed. "I'm happy that you did. Danny's a lucky guy."

A blush rose in Scott's cheeks. In the short weeks since he and Danny had officially started dating, he'd worried more than once that he was violating some unspoken rules about how to do a second relationship. It wasn't like his first one had gone so smoothly. At least-at least he and Allison had managed to break up without becoming enemies, and it wasn't just his self-preservation speaking. Still, he liked knowing they could both remember their time together fondly; that's how he wanted to remember his first love, not like how his mom remembered her marriage.

"We'll find it," Allison said, returning to the reason she was here at all. She dropped the hem of her skirt and smoothed the twisted material, her hand coming to rest flat and definitive against her thigh. "We'll find it and we'll kill it. But, Scott...?"

"I have to tell him," Scott replied. "I will. When he wakes up." If he wakes up, he thought, his gaze ticking briefly in the direction of the nurses' station where he could hear his mom on the phone with one of the labs, trying to get answers that anyone could work with.

"He needs to know what's going on," Allison pointed out. "And we need to know what he saw. Anything. Any detail he can give. He won't tell you if he thinks you won't believe him."

Scott nodded, frowning. He couldn't deny what Allison was saying, had already started to understand the necessity before her arrival. Hearing it from her only pushed him out of the rut of an internal debate.

In order to keep Danny safe from monsters, he'd have to let him know they were real.