3.
"Anything else?" Scott asks, arching his back and stretching his arms up over his head. Prada jumps up on to the couch cushion beside him and then climbs over into his lap. He reaches down to pet her tiny head. Prada rolls over showing him her belly and going pliant under his hands. He smiles at her indulgently, and his fingers automatically start checking her over. His two years as a veterinary assistant in training never forgotten.
"No, that's it for the moment," Lydia frowns. Scott checks Prada's back legs, stopping to rub her across the tummy before letting her snuggle into the space between him and Lydia.
"You can say it. You know I'd never get mad at you for saying what's on your mind," Scott says quietly. Lydia stills taking a deep breath beside him before relaxing. She slumps over, threading her arm through his, and resting her head on his shoulder. Prada wiggles free from between them and jumps down. Scott waits.
"You're working too hard. You need to take more time for yourself. Doing two shifts on patrol this often is too much. I know you think it's necessary but you're going to burn out if you don't get more rest," she says softly, voice still a touch scratchy. Scott shifts but doesn't pull away from her.
"We can't make the patrols any longer than they already are. And with Stiles and Derek heading into Town every few days, I can't ask them to come back and take their usual turns. That's hardly fair with everything they face while they're gone. Someone has to cover for them." Lydia nods in understanding.
"You're not the only one who can cover those shifts. Allison, Isaac, Kira, John. They're all worried about you. They're all willing to take the extra shifts. You just have to let them," she tightens her grip on his elbow, hugging it to her side. Scott turns to look at her.
"We can come up with a rotating schedule maybe?" he offers. She grins at him hugely, eyes lighting up.
"Yes, one where every few days people pull a double, and then get a little extra time off the next day. Excellent plan," she agrees. "I'll start working on it now." She releases his arm and reaches for the notebook, already filling in times and names, at a speed that makes Scott think this entire thing has gone exactly like she expected it to, how she'd planned it to. He shakes his head in tired amusement.
Allison hops down the steps, practically bouncing as she adjusts the strap on her quiver. Scott looks toward the landing and finds Isaac's heartbeat, slow and even with sleep, behind the bedroom door. He shares a look with Lydia, who smirks, mouth pursing with amusement.
"Kira should be back in about ten minutes," Lydia says, standing from the couch, and stretching. She scoops up Prada, taking her into the kitchen as Allison finally reaches the ground floor.
"You ready Mr. S?" Allison asks. She checks the tension on her bow and smiles at him. John nods from his seat, he's leaning over and tightening the laces of his boots. Allison turns to Scott. "Isaac said four East side?" Scott nods standing up and walking to the dining room table. They have a map of the area laid out there, their cabin marked with a blue square. He points to the area where the dead seemed to be congregating.
"They seem to like it here. We're not sure why. Kira was going to scope out this side over here a little more fully." He points to the North, where they usually did their game hunting. "She thinks there might be a freshwater spring coming down out of the mountains. We might need another source of drinkable water in case the well runs dry. Mom says the lake water is not safe, and Lydia wants to try and save the water purification tabs until we absolutely need them." Allison nods, studying the map more carefully.
"We can head up this way," she motions to a section of the map. "Maybe we can snag a deer while we're out. We haven't had venison in a while. Do you want me to take THEM out if I can?" Scott frowns considering.
"Only if you can do it safely and from a distance." She nods in agreement and glances up over Scott's shoulder and catches sight of John leaning down to press a chaste kiss to Melissa's upturned mouth. She looks away quickly, biting back a smile.
"If you're gonna kiss my mom goodbye, you can at least make it a good one," Scott says, not bothering to even glance over his shoulder. Allison watches Melissa freeze, her face going oddly pink and white at the same time. Allison fights not to giggle. Scott turns around, leaning his butt against the edge of the table and going for casual nonchalance. John squares his shoulders, standing a touch taller, and frowning. Melissa stands up from the couch, reaching for his hand and looking like she's gearing up for a fight.
"Scott," she starts. Scott grins as he interrupts her.
"Come on, Mom. I'm a werewolf. Enhanced senses. You guys might want to tell Stiles soon though. He doesn't have my supernatural advantage." He steps toward them, and pulls his mom into a hug.
"You're not upset. I mean, with your Dad and…" She says softly, voice trailing off. Scott shakes his head.
"Dad left a long time ago, and yeah, things are better with him after he came back, but… he left again. You deserve to be with someone you can depend on, who will treat you right, and love you and respect you. John," he shrugs. "He's one of the greatest guys I've ever met, and he and Stiles were already family." She beams up at him.
"Good, because you don't get a say in who I date. You've never gotten a say." She pulls out of the hug, going for motherly and firm and mostly failing. Scott just shakes his head, and rolls his eyes, tempted to bring up Peter Hale, but deciding not to. He looks toward John, holding out a hand. John takes it, shaking it once before pulling him into a hug.
"You don't need my permission, I know that, but I'm happy for her and for you. We all deserve something good after all we've been through," Scott says. John nods.
"I appreciate the blessing. I just hope Stiles takes it so well," John replies. Scott laughs.
"I hate to break it to you, but we sort of had it all planned out to end up this way since like back in 8th grade," Scott says watching delight and shock battle for prominence on both their faces. He and Stiles had been 13 years old and had decided that they really should be brothers, and since Mrs. McCall's divorce had been final for a few years, and some of the immediate pain of losing Stiles' mother had slowly started to dissipate in the 3 years since it had happened, well what better way to make themselves brothers then by setting up their parents? They could never quite figure out how to make it happen though.
The smile drops of Scott's face when he hears the sound of swiftly running feet. He has the door open before Kira gets there, eyes searching her for injuries or any sign of a fight. Her face is a little sweaty, her hair a little wild, but she's uninjured, no blood or gunk or even mud on her clothing. She smells like the forest, like tree sap and leaves, and the ever present tinge of ozone.
"What is it?" he asks. "What's wrong?" She takes a deep breath.
"Derek and Stiles are coming back, and they're coming back fast!" she says. She turns to look up the road, where the Toyota could just be seen coming toward the cabin.
"It's too early. Something must be wrong," Scott says. He focuses, letting his eyes turn red and his hearing enhance. "They have someone with them!" he says. By then, Allison, John, and Melissa have followed him outside, all watching the approaching car. "Ally, get Isaac," Scott says, he doesn't ever turn his attention away from the approaching car for even a second.
"Allison?" the sound of Lydia's voice calling from the door way, the heartbroken tone of it, is enough to finally snare Scott's attention, and stop Allison's forward momentum in its tracks. Lydia's standing there, eyes teary, face pale, and forehead furrowed. Allison focuses her attention on Lydia, horror slowly coming over her expression.
"No! No. No. No…" she says desperately, tears springing to her eyes too. The car skids to a stop in the dirt in front of the cabin, Stiles flinging himself out of the driver's seat.
"We need help! He's been bitten!"