Previously on Part 1...

She closed the door behind her and maneuvered around her car, buttoning up her upper buttons of her coat as the wind grew a sudden strength and all but blew her back. Her hair was blown around and momentarily blinded her as she approached the stone steps. She stopped abruptly right before the door, hesitant to knock but found it wasn't necessary when it was pried open, revealing Madison herself in a golden glory. Allison was taken aback by the brightness of her apparel, not used to the yellow adorning her torso but found it only worked with her dark hair that she hadn't even imagined her with.

"Uh," Allison stumbled over words before setting a strict smile on her face. "I like your hair."

"Thank you," Madison replied promptly with colder, darker eyes Allison also hadn't picture. Surely, with darker hair, Madison's eyes should lighter, although Allison couldn't even imagine Madison's eye being possibly icier than they had before? Perhaps with was because of the previous events, when Madison had relinquished her grief and anger, perhaps she was starting to return to…normal? Still…Allison couldn't get over the new image Madison presented, proudly, she might add, as Madison stood straight and almost –nope, correction –very intimidating. "While you're there gawking," Madison interrupted, tilting her head while stepping aside, "why don't you step in, since it'd be rude of me to leave a guest out in the cold," she coldly said, allowing a reddened Allison inside.


"So you're all right," Allison announced, fumbling over her speech while under Madison's intense gaze.

"Yes I am," Madison bluntly replied. "And to be honest, you better come straight out and say something, because both you and that mutt Derek visited for more than just assurance of my physical health. I won't guarantee I can or will answer it but since you came all the way here, might as well sling it."

"Uh," Allison stuttered. "I guess it can wait…" she prolonged, avoiding Madison's intense stare.

"Really, you came here at nine o'clock at night for something that 'can wait.' My God Allison, grow a pair," Madison berated before turning her back towards her, returning back into the kitchen to finish her snack –a warm, fudged decadent dark chocolate brownie –gourmet made, of course, by the looks of the presentation. Madison dipped with a fork at one of the corner, quickly placing the warm desert into her mouth where it immediately melted on her tongue.

Allison intruded into her peaceful French space, eyeing the white, vintage wooding and glimmering marble countertops. It was definitely different from her kitchen, having a unique persona of history and hospitality, almost as if it was alive, and the various brightly colored floral decorations added to that sense. Allison –despite Madison's cold shoulder –felt welcomed as she stepped into the brightly lit room.

"What are you still doing here?" Madison demanded, holding her fork in a fist. Allison kept her distance but held a brave face as she stared at Madison directly, trembling under Madison's cold, unwavering stare. She immediately thought of her father's advice to never stare a dog in the eyes, but then again, to compare Madison to a dog, that'd be stupid of her. Sure, Madison could be a bitch but to announce it, well…that was suicide, to here at least. Allison had to tread lightly.

"Do you remember who pushed you off the bannister?" Allison blurted. Madison snarled loudly, eyes shifting from the darkest of blues to the brightest of reds before she recomposed her face into a human expression, reverting back to her cool, celestial eyes. Allison swallowed a bitter lump in her throat, petrified of the short-lived terror, standing in complete stillness. Madison observed her frantic heart pitter and patter, comparing it to her face. "Nice poker face," Madison chided before returning to her desert, forking another bite from the warm chocolate. "And no, I don't remember anything. I can't recall a single event from the past month and a half."

"Is there a chance you'll ever recover it?" Allison asked again.

Madison groaned in irritation. "The doctor's aren't sure. It's inconclusive. Why are you so curious anyways? Did you do something you don't want me knowing? Is that why you're glad I fell and hit my head? Actually, could it be possible, you were the one to throw me over the railing?" She accused but Allison missed the mild, underlining playful tone Madison slyly slipped out.

"No!" Allison objected. "I didn't do anything! I didn't push you off the banner! I couldn't! I just mean…why, how could you not be interested in someone who tried to kill you?"

"Well," Madison answered, "if he or she was too much of a coward to finish the job when I was the most vulnerable at the hospital, the chances of them coming after me now is very slim, so I don't have to worry about it. They're long gone."

"Don't you want answers or revenge? I'd be pretty upset if someone tried to kill me and got away with it!"

"That's you," Madison retorted, "not me, at least, not anymore. Why bother scraping up old wounds? I'm not going to look for trouble. Until they resurface –which I highly doubt –I'm not going to start up another war, especially in my condition now."

Allison was immediately skeptical. This was not the Madison she knew –not that she knew her very much anyways –but she experienced Madison's wrath enough to know those words were all bullshit. Allison acted on her emotions and spoke out angrily.

"That's bullshit and you know it," Allison accused. Madison was taken aback by her break of persona, alarmed by Allison's stunning anger. Slightly entertained by her tantrum, Madison set her head in her palms, suppressing a grin as she observed Allison's wild hand gestures and accusing fingers. "You'd go after me for something my family had done, just to hurt him because you're a cunning, manipulative bitch," Madison was a little alarmed by vulgarity –especially since it was directed at herself, something she had never imagined Allison doing –not after what she had inflicted onto Allison for the past months. "Like hell I'd believe you skip on the chance to hunt down and kill the person who tried to kill you personally."

"Nice theory," Madison pointed out, raising her index finger, "only, have you considered, I don't care for my own safety? Perhaps I don't care for myself in comparison to my family's well-being. I'd gladly dismember and kill those who trespass and harm my family, but perhaps, I don't particular care for those who try to hurt me, because no matter if it's physical or mental, my pride is impenetrable," she added with a condescending grin, "but nice work. You should keep working on those, just in case."

"Oh really," Allison objected, sneering down at the girl. "What about Matt? He didn't hurt your family but you killed him in most brutal way possible! Why did you do that?" She accused.

Madison's eyes tightened but faded away, turning her gaze to the counter as she dug deep into her mind. "I don't remember it," she honestly replied. "I don't remember a Matt, or killing him."

Allison glared at her at first, still skeptical but the ingenuity in her lost blue eyes proved to Allison she was telling the truth, but the moment of empathy was lost as she felt the back of her neck, feeling the faint scars of Madison's claws. She remembered vaguely Madison's "explanation," if it could even be considered one.

Three weeks ago

Allison pushed herself off the soft ground, wiping remnants of mud onto her black pants, smearing an odd brown stain on her thigh. She didn't notice as she re-approached Madison with determined eyes. Madison's were opposite, almost humored at the idea of Allison attacking her.

Suddenly Allison rushed forward, hoping to grab Madison's collar and was suddenly enthralled as she felt the thin fabric in her grasp. The excitement was quickly pushed out of her system as pain jolted through her torso. She looked down briefly as her stomach, seeing Madison's fist embed itself into her abdomen's muscle. Allison collapsed to her knees, gasping for air as the force of Madison's strength sent Allison into a paralyzing state of shock.

After a coughing fit, Allison gazed up at Madison who crouched at her side. "You enjoy this, don't you?" She accused. Madison shook her head.

"You make this too easy, too predictable," Madison explained, extending a hand to help Allison up. Allison stumbled onto her feet but clung to Madison's shoulders as a make-shift crutch. "You need to stop attacking without a plan. What were you going to do after you grabbed hold of my collar? Throw me down? Attempt to strangle me?"

"Why is it that everything I do, you're better than me?" Allison whined. She was tired of Madison's condescending remarks. Nothing was ever good enough in her eyes.

"Practice, motive, physical advantage," Madison offered lightly, "but most importantly of all, I plan mentally, not just one scenario but two or three incase the first one goes awry."

"What was your plan when you attacked me at the Police Station," Allison wondered.

"That was purely spontaneous. You attacked my Beta. Because your narrow sight, you didn't see me, allowing me to disable you."

"YOU SUNK YOUR CLAWS INTO MY NECK!" Allison seethed loudly, glaring at Madison. "You gave me nightmares for weeks, of killing Matt and various people. Don't even get me started on the men you attacked."

Madison laughed deeply, amused by Allison's accusations. "You make me out to be Jack the Ripper. Maybe it was purely your imagination? Anyone could've killed Matt. I certainly don't remember doing so." Madison twisted her words. The night was still blurry and almost nonexistent in Madison's mind. Only Tabitha's recounting of events seemed to give some outline of the sequence of events.

"I remember," Allison steamed. "I remember every single gory detail."

"Do enlighten me with the imagery," Madison taunted.

"I won't feed your inner sadism," Allison objected.

"Me? Sadistic?" Madison mocked.

"Now you really are enjoying this," Allison realized sourly.

"I only enjoy the amusement you provide with your accusations. I never expected you to be so bold and 'brave.' I've always pictured you to be the meek little mouse who wants to be a rat. Too bad I'll always be the snake."

"Because you're sly and conniving," Allison imputed.

"I prefer clever or cunning, but either one works."

"That's not something to be proud of."

"Perhaps not but it's better than being a helpless little rodent."

"Are you calling me a rodent?"

"Your words, not mine."

"But you said it yourself before that! You pictured me as a little mouse. That's a rodent. Then you say you're better than being a little rodent. Did you or did you not say that?"

Madison grinned. "What are you going to do about it?"

Allison sneered but did nothing.

PRESENT

The memory brought about another scenario in her head and she stared directly at Madison with harsh eyes. "'I'll always be the snake,' you said to me. Clever, cunning, sly, conniving…how do I know this isn't another one of your tricks? What if you don't actually have memory loss?"

"Another interesting theory," Madison mused, "But," she pondered, wagging her finger again, "what would I have to gain from pretending to be an Amnesic?

"Luring the person who pushed you into a trap," Allison replied decidedly. Madison raised a brow. "You want them to think you're vulnerable and won't remember who they are, therefore they can walk right past you and you wouldn't notice anything until it's too late and they finish the job, but it wouldn't work out in their favor because you really do know who they are and you'll attack first!"

"That's a mouthful," Madison grumbled. "That's an interesting tactic, and it definitely sounds like something I'd do, but why would I exclude everybody from the plan? Wouldn't I want allies, back-up in case something goes awry?"

"Good point," Allison pondered, too, "but you're an independent person. You don't like a crowd or team effort. You never have, though I'm sure Tabitha has some insight on whatever you're planning. You tell her everything. Maybe she even deceived Stiles at the hospital about her not knowing what you've been up these past few weeks on the down low. She's always put you first."

"Cute," Madison mused. "So many ideas wrapped into this pretty little head," she teased, reaching over to ruffle Allison's hair. "Here's the thing, the hole in this splendid idea of yours. Tabitha has no idea of my activities in the past weeks. If she did, she would've told me, to help me fill up holes. Sorry to say but you can cross that one out. Now, as much as I am entertained by your silly little delusions and skepticisms, I actually have to get to bed soon. It's late and I'm sure your family –well, just your dad now –is worried."

Allison cringed at the verbal sting. She knew it was a hint from Madison she was getting aggravated but Allison reminded herself to unrelenting. There was another reason she came here.

"Yeah, it's just my dad now…" She murmured. "I also need to ask you a personal question," Allison began, fiddling with her fingers. She dared to step forward and lean over the counter top, while suppressing her voice to a whisper. "When you lost your parents…how did you get over it?" Allison asked wholeheartedly. "I meant to ask earlier but I never had the courage…I was afraid you'd be angry with me for intruding onto something so personal…but, I guess, with recent events, I can barely hold myself together. It's gotten so bad…I don't know what to do."

Madison took a long, thoughtful pause as the tension of her face physically melted into a solemn expression. "The sad truth is, it doesn't get better, it won't for a long time," she admitted, dropping her fork onto the plate as she stared up at Allison's face with sincere blue eyes. "It's going to get worse before it can get better. You have to hit rock bottom before you can achieving any type of healing, to fully understand and appreciate or acknowledge your circumstances. If you're looking for a quick fix, it doesn't work like that. That's the sad reality, like it or not. Life isn't quick and it sure as hell isn't easy."

"I know that," Allison objected.

"I don't think you do," Madison called her out, narrowing her eyes, "or else you wouldn't be asking me of all people for help. First of all, if you really want help, go ask your father, he needs the comfort as much as you do, especially since he has to keep the strength of the family to put on a façade for you. You came to me though because you believe my 'experience' in loss makes me more qualified to give advice than others. Here's the truth, nothing I say will ease the hurt. I can describe the emotions but that's as much as I'm limited to. Is that what you want, a narration of my pain so you can foreshadow yours? Because I can do that but it's futile. You'll still crumble and break and there is nothing to break your fall. All I would be doing is predicting your upcoming destruction," she hissed, "but, from the ashes of devastation, I suppose a stronger person can arise. I did, so I suppose so can you…" She sighed and stood up, leaving behind the unfinished desert as she guided Allison towards the hallway.

"I need to show you something," she explained, opening a door. Allison peered down the descending stairs, surprised at the carpeting and oak railings of the furnished basement.

"So it's finished," Allison thought out loud as she followed Madison's figure down the narrow staircase.

"Yes," Madison replied, "Trevor transformed it into the theater room. We rarely use it though because the surround sound system is shocked. From what, we don't know, but we've procrastinated on replacing it. It's stupid to think about the amount of money we spent on something like this," she introduced as they entered the open area. Allison stared in awe, amazed by the bright, warm feel of the large room. The walls were a warm tan and brown, as was the large leather couch, matching ottoman chairs, and overwhelming white screen descending from the ceiling to the floor.

"Is that the kind that comes down or is that like an actual screen, like a big screen TV?" Allison had to ask.

"There's no projector," Madison explained dully, "so yes, it's a big screen," she said in a condescending tone. She passed the larger entertainment area towards the blackened backroom out of the reach of the light above Allison's head. Madison took a deep breath and proceeded opening it, unveiling one of the few unfinished rooms, covered in dust and cob webs. Madison used her superior, inhuman sights to search for a box, locating it towards the back of the dark room and pulled it out of the top shelf with a loud heave. She dragged it back out towards the brightly lit center of the room, pulling open the top flaps violently, unveiling the surprise in.

Next Town Over

Harrison was anxious as he paced outside, shivering in the cold with his thin jacket and worn Red Sox baseball cap. The cold was bitter and nipped at his reddening cheeks while he awaited a guest. Suddenly, out of the blackness emerged low crouched form, with piercing red eyes glaring out like fire, disturbing the neutrality of the night.

"Sloane," Harrison greeted in a rush, eager to meet his long distant companion as he toppled down the three-step stairs of his porch to the dirt-lined walkway. The large wolf raised its head and nodded out of courtesy as its eyes dimmed from red to a light grey that almost blended in with the night like a ghost if it wasn't for the reflecting pupils. "I've been thinking about what you've said since you told me. I still firmly believe that it'd be too risky for you and her to attempt. You know how delicate she is. She's finally getting back on her feet…." He paused as another image was sent from Sloane telepathically. "I'm aware she needs protection but Derek and the others are quite capable of doing that. So far they've been proving it with their constant watch…" he paused again as Sloane interrupted, passionately enough that a loud growl vibrated in his throat. "I understand that but you need a lot of time to recover."

Harrison sighed. "Even if you are one of the strongest Alphas, even you have to admit you aren't invincible. They killed you before, they can kill you again."

The large wolf snarled.

"I know you aren't the revengeful type but I can see it happening. This is out of your control. Once you make that move, the actions are irreversible. Are you prepared for the consequences? You do realize Madison can get hurt all over again? She's just getting accustomed to your absence. Why would you disturb that?"

The wolf stared at Harrison with cold eyes before they blazed into a blood red. Harrison sighed once more.

"I should've known better. You've always had a set mind…" he complied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What do you need me to do?"

Madison's Basement

"Your mom was really beautiful," Allison complimented as she stared at the framed photo of the real Aubrey in her Tropicana dress. Allison instantly knew that's whom Madison inherited her physique from. "Was it true...what you told me in the woods…about her being the kindest woman you know?"

"Every word," Madison replied.

"Did you ever have doubts about her? Did you ever recall any moments that countered her kind image?"

"If you're asking if I had any moments where my 'illusion' of a devoted mother was tainted, by any chance at all, the answer is no. My mother was a saint and I'm not holding onto that because I want to but because it's true. She was. If she was stricter, I was remember her being strict, but every single moment I have in my mind of her has always been consistent, warm and welcoming with a perpetual smile. Even when she died, I still had that image in my mind, because my mother was kind enough to spare me that image…unfortunately, the picture of her gouged head did leave one hell of a scar."

"I try to think of my mom in some good light," Allison confided, "but all I can think about are the times she's limited me. We've never had an open, sharing relationship…not what you and your mom had…"

"Don't start to envy me," Madison warned harshly, causing Allison to cringe under her forceful tone. "Continue," she ordered.

"I feel guilty about all the times we've missed. I should've put an effort… I should've put my mother first instead of Lydia that day…"

"Don't start victimizing yourself," Madison demanded as she picked up another silver frame. The metal was cold against her flesh as she stared intensely at her father's solemn portrait. "That's the first thing people do after tragedy. Somehow, in human nature, I suppose, they turn the situation around to focus on themselves on what they could've done, on what this or that had done to them, and how much their hurting. It's typical behavior but if you want to move on quicker, you better drop that habit now. Here's the reality. Your mother is dead. She killed herself. Yes, she gave you some hints but you didn't pick up on those because you were too dense or too preoccupied. That's okay. That's life. It's hectic and often too demanding, always demanding your attention on too many things at the same time. Allison, you are perfectly human. You're excused from any guilt. You couldn't have seen it coming and even if you did, there would be nothing you could've done. Stop whining about the past and get back to the present. Life is moving ahead of you."

Allison should've expected the tough love, the again, just cross out the love, and just have 'tough' and that would be Madison. There was nothing even remotely affectionate about the now-new-brunette. Allison was secretly wishing she was still blond because of her plentiful array of insults blond related she secretly ranted about in her head. Now, those jokes were ruined….she still should've expected the treatment though, she reminded herself. Madison didn't like her in the least and she sure as hell wasn't going to console her. Allison betted Madison was secretly getting a kick out of this but she couldn't be any more wrong.

"Although I understand on some level," Madison mumbled. Allison turned her head in shock. She was taken aback that Madison was willing to even empathize with the likes of her, understanding and acknowledging Madison's critical stance of her. "I completely understand."

"Of course you do," Allison complied, nodding her head. "Seeing as you lost your parents…" Inside though, Allison felt bitterness on the tip of her tongue and a strange, unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach as she remembered the night Madison tormented her in the woods about their deceased parents, audacious enough to compare them. Madison didn't seem to notice –and if she did, she hid it well –and averted her eyes to the photo in her hand.

"I understand the feeling of the burden," she began, fingering her mother's face, smiling slightly but her bottom lip quivered as her eyes began to fill. "The heavy feeling on your chest and the excruciating ache…" Madison's sight blurred as she stared at the photo while she captured the tender moment in her head. "The anger that swells in you," she seethed lowly, "feeling like the most important thing from you have been stolen, but all that anger and rage is stuck there," she felt her chest, clutching the material of her shirt over her breast, "because you don't have anyone to blame or take it out on. When my mom was murdered," she confided, surprising Allison, "I was too young to understand the circumstance but even then, as a child, I felt the full brunt of it all, the burdening sadness and loss I felt…" she took in a shaky breath. "I don't know how to completely and thoroughly explain all of the emotions I felt, because they were all very intricate and intense and happening at once, it kind of just knocks the wind out of you and makes you lose all sanity and focus…I couldn't understand it but I felt so much emotional and pain, I could barely stand on my own feet…It was draining, and the depression didn't help. I was a ragdoll for a short while, losing all will to go on. I couldn't see the future. I couldn't continue. It was as if, mind the corniness, as if a large part of me withered and died along with my parents, like a huge part of my heart had been scooped out. I was weak and tired and exhausted. The confusion didn't help. I couldn't make sense of anything, not at that age yet. I felt incomplete, inadequate, and utterly helpless."

All Allison could do was nod in a stunned silence, somehow understanding every bit Madison had put out there. Madison didn't seem to mind the stillness and continued on.

"There was a lot of anger, at who, I don't know, and that was the problem, because I couldn't unleash that rage and frustration on the person who deserved it, so it stayed locked up and along with the depression, it creates a weight, a heaviness within you, not draining all of your energy but your will, too. Sometimes I just…couldn't get up…I stayed limp all day in my bed, crying myself to sleep, only to be awakened by nightmares, God awful nightmares, reliving it all over again, and feeling absolutely terrified and helpless. I tried to cover my ears but I couldn't move and I had to hear my dad crying my mom's name over, and over, and over again, until they put him out of his misery, and then I see those images of his corpse and my mom's…" she broke down. She dropped the photo back into the box and leaned back against the wall, clutching her throat as if she was choking on her own sob. She heaved as her heart painfully beat against her rib cage.

"That's why I could never inflict those kinds of injuries on anybody, because every time I saw blood, I'm reminded of their carnage smeared across the kitchen floor," she trembled out. Allison crawled over, compelled to help, and boldly embraced the pitiful girl, holding her tightly as her own tears shed, feeling every ounce of empathy she could produce in her being. Madison didn't reject her hold but did not accept it either, keeping still.

"Although your mom perished by suicide I bet your sentiments share similarities to mine," Madison accused, escaping Allison's grip. She distanced herself and regained some composure, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve, gathering slight pink blush and bronze residue on the delicate white fabric. "I'm not sure if I can provide much help, seeing as I barely passed the first few stages of grief, but I can definitely explain them to you if you are still confused."

Allison immediately bit at the opportunity. "How did you get over it? What I mean," she corrected herself when she realized Madison wasn't truly over it and barely surpassed the first stage of anger. "You concealed it so well. How did you burry it?"

"I didn't," Madison answered. "I just didn't talk about it much. I could talk about it and some cases, I did, like with Scott and Stiles and my parents –Trevor and Frank I mean. It took a lot of effort not to burst out in tears though. I was so close to breaking each time the topic was brought up, I'd shoot it down in an instant. As long as I didn't have to talk about it, I seemed fine. You'll see that with Tabitha, too, and how she glares as anyone who mentions Todd –her brother. It's not something we want to dwell on but the secret to truly moving on is to accept the circumstances, as painful as they may be, to get it out in the open so it's not as much as an awkward or taboo subject. The first thing you want to do when you get home if go talk to your dad…God forbid you might lose him one day…and you won't get to say I love for that last time…the moment, it seems like you have forever, like it doesn't matter when he leaves the doorway but you never know outside that door could be a killer, and within that second, a gunshot, a scream perhaps, if he had time, but when you investigate, he's…not there anymore, he there but the life in his eyes are dead, just like him," she croaked.

Allison trembled, visibly upset at Madison's advice. Without a word, she received Madison's emotional hint and stood up, shaking. She grabbed the railing as soon as she stumbled towards the stairs, glancing at Madison's yellow clad back and dark brown curls, with peaks of soft, delicate flesh between some stray strands.

Madison glanced at Allison's retreating figure from over her shoulder, hearing the door clicked behind Allison's soft steps. Madison returned her gaze from the stairs back to the photos in her hand.

During her prolonged phases of grief, Frank had to hide many of these to avoid another "scene" from Madison who'd scream violently at just the reminder of her parents. It hurt him to pack them away but he was willing sacrifice his own emotional needs to satisfy hers. Now, she realized with a new almost healing sense of relief, it was time for Mom and Dad to make their debut again in the Lundgren-Dubolazov household. She unpacked the box, laying out the framed memories, preparing to wipe off the thick layer of dust on the glass. Underneath, she found some more memorabilia, including some hand paintings –not the best, she may add. She choked on a hoarse laugh as she tried to think of the victorious face she might've had as a two or three year old, splattered with all assortments of colors. Her mother must've been chastising her constantly. "Madison, look at you, baby. You're a mess! I bet you get this from your father. First you ruin your room and now you got your brand new clothes all dirty!" She would tenderly wipe a wet towel over her rosy cheeks to scrub off the bright yellows and greens she must've been using for the picture.

"I can't believe I hid you guys for so long," she murmured, caressing the poorly drawn triangle dress most likely depicting her mother. "I'm really sorry. I promise it will get better now."