Srry for not updating until like 2012! I finally got back my laptop, although its still in the office. I can touch it, I can type on it, but I can't take it in my room. =( Not to mention, I had serious writer's block.
Despite all the drama involving Brody, her parents, and the accident, today Allison was still…well Allison; as happy and bubbly as ever. As of now, she had just finished her fourth cup of chocolate pudding, happily shoving spoonful after spoonful after spoonful into her hungry mouth.
Seated by her side on a stool, Melissa jotted down the progress and condition of her son's girlfriend, smirking at the bubbly young 17-year-old as she licked her spoon clean of pudding.
"Oh my gosh… that was the best pudding I've ever had in my life!" Allison placed the spoon on the tray, which a nurse came in and took away.
"Oh, don't worry. There will be plenty more from where that's coming," Melissa placed her clipboard over her chest, "Now that you're alive and well, we'd all like to spoil you rotten up until you leave." The mother smiled sweetly.
Allison giggled lightly, tilting her head. "That would be the best thing to happen, since my parents don't even try anymore."
The younger and older women both threw back their heads, allowing their laughter to mix into the room together. For a moment, everything seemed to be going back into place for Melissa, but deep down she knew that from this point on there would be some major changes in Allison and her son's life.
"Now you're making me feel guilty about gobbling up all the yummy pudding here. I'm already becoming a pig." Allison crossed her arms over her bump rubbing it, to which Melissa caught onto.
Melissa cleared her throat. "I wouldn't really call it that Allison." She spilled out in a serious manner, looking anywhere but the teen's gaze.
"Melissa?"
Flipping the clipboard onto her lap, the dark haired woman solemnly stared at the confused and frightened teenager, catching her dark eyes darting back and forth at her.
"Allison…" Melissa nearly spoke out, but was abruptly cut off when the door flew open, revealing Beacon Hills police. Sheriff Stilinski was the first to enter the room.
"Allison. I know this is a bit soon, but as you realize, you're the victim of a heinous crime. And it's very important that these men find the boy responsible for putting you here. We'll begin by asking you some questions." Deputy Hawkins finished, pulling out her notepad.
"Sheriff," the mother motioned for the cop to follow her, pushing and holding the door open while the decorated officer lead himself out. Melissa made absolutely sure that the door had been shut all the way before she gave her piece of mind to Officer Stilinski.
"Unbelievable Stephen. She's barely beginning to eat solid food and your officers are already swarming her like ants." Melissa harshly shot, clutching the clipboard even tighter since she couldn't risk her job by smacking the sheriff.
The sheriff rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. "I know and I couldn't agree with you more. But, for the sake of the investigation…"
"Well you know what, fuck your investigation! Allison has already been through enough! And believe me, the worst has yet to come." She solemnly looked back at the room containing the mother of her unborn grandchild.
Melissa may have been angry, or more like pissed off, but she knew when it was necessary to keep her voice at a reasonable level whenever a nurse, doctor, or patient strolled by.
"Melissa… believe me or not, I don't want to cause Allison any grief. That is the last thing I want to do after all she's been through," he pointed his index finger at the thick wooden door. "But I will not allow that son of a bitch to run free after what he's done to her and all those other girls."
Melissa took a deep and frustated breath. "Alright. Make it quick then."
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Seated on a tall stool in his kitchen was Chris, coffee in hand, reading through the newspaper. Standing by the stove, Linda quickly whipped up some eggs, bacon, and oatmeal for the entire family, even Kate after their big blow out at the hospital.
"Here you go honey." Linda placed her husband a plate of hot steaming food in front of him.
"Thanks. But, no thanks." He gruffly said, slowly pushing away at his plate, much rather preferring his coffee over real food.
"Really Chris? Would it kill you to show some enthusiasm this morning? I mean, our daughter's woken up from her coma with no major injuries. She'll be home tomorrow." Linda placed her hands on her hips.
"Our pregnant daughter. Let's not forget she's bringing another mouth to feed into this house."
"And let's not forget we're going to have that taken care of that once she gets here." Linda said matter-of-factly.
Kate walked through the kitchen, hair in loose curls and prescription glasses being pulled over her eyes. "And let's not forget how messed up in the head you both are." She shoved a vacant hand into her purse and pulled out a pack of Camels.
Throwing down his newspaper with attitude, Chris shot an icy glare at his sister. "Don't even try to start with me today."
"Or what," Kate threw her purse over her shoulder before crossing her arms as she shot the nastiest of glares at her sibling. "You gonna shoot me?"
"I wouldn't have a problem at all doing that." Chris growled, slamming his cup down hard on the granite counter top. "I strongly recommend you leave before I get my pistol... sis." he put heavy emphasis on the last word.
"Gladly...brother."
"Nevermind that. I have my rifle in the garage." Linda said, firm hand on hip.
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Scott was in the kitchen, holding his breath as he prepared for the burning metal pan to scorch his skin before he set it on the stove. Derek rummaged through the pantry for tubberware big enough to contain over a dozen cookies.
Stiles had whipped up a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich quick enough to satisfy his hunger; he couldn't wait a second longer since he was already licking the knife.
Scott had received the phone call earlier in the ripe hours of the morning, the wonderful news of Allison finally awaking from her coma. He was ecstatic! So happy, he hopped on his bike in his pajamas and pedaled down over to the hospital.
Today, he was going to drop her off a little gift: some of her missed homework assignments and a container of peanut butter cookies, her favorite.
According to doctors, she would be out tomorrow.
"Come on, Derek! Just grab anything you can get so we can go!" Scott quickly fanned at the cooling cookies.
""Well I'd have it by now if there wasn't two tops in this cabinet," he threw his hands out to the pantry in front of him, "Three in that one and two in the other one." He explained as he pointed out various cabinets, easily becoming exhausted and annoyed.
"I quit!" he leaned by the sink, shortly joined by Stiles, peanut butter covered knife in hand, still licking away. Moments later, Scott joined them right as he was pulling his mitts off; he quickly shoved them in the appropriate drawer.
"Quitters never win man." Stiles announced, licking at the peanut butter on the corner of his mouth.
Now that the knife had been licked clean, Stiles happily disposed of it… pulling open the cabinet drawer containing the clean eating utensils and tossed it right back in there before retreating back to his sand which.
Derek's nose wrinkled and Scott's eyes got huge at the teenager's unbelievably repulsive behavior.
Didn't Stiles ever have anyone teach him manners and the proper rules of etiquette?
The pair continued to eyeball Stiles then turned to the cabinet then turned to face each other. Scott cautiously pulled open the drawer, acting as if it were the plague, disgust written all over his face.
Derek began popping his knuckles.
The older boy took a careful finger to point out the tainted knife, hoping to place it where it needed to be. But he didn't want Scott or his mother to take such a great risk.
He immediately scooped up the entire utensil holder and threw open the dishwasher, tossing the entire thing in there and slammed the door shut.
Might as well wash them all for safety precautions.
"Look at him."Derek half whispered to Scott, fighting the hard urge to puke his guts out. "I don't even think he fits under the category with humans."
Lips smacking, licking at his fingers, and he even had some of the crust dangling out of his mouth.
It wasn't until he made it half way did he finally catch on that he was being watched. "What?" he questioned with a mouth full.
Derek slowly shook his head, smoky grey eyes evilly eying Stiles. "You're disgusting." He said, nose still wrinkled. "Has it ever crossed your mind as to why you don't have a girlfriend?"
"I don't know… never really figured it out." Stiles loudly smacked away, fishing for the reason swimming in his head. "Maybe girls are just shy around me." He chirped.
"Or scared." Derek added.
"Shut up Derek. Scott, you're my best friend, right?" Stiles questioned mouth full.
"Yeah." The teen wolf simply replied.
"And you'd never lie to me, right?"
"Right." Scott packed another cookie into the tubberware.
"…Do you find me repulsive?"
"…You really want me to answer that question honestly?" Scott, sealed up the cookies.
"Yeah. Why else wouldn't I ask you?"
"Stiles... you might want to think about checking into charm school."
"What?" Stiles wrinkled his nose. "But... aren't those for girls."
"Yeah, but that's not the point. Sorry." Scott gave a simple shrug.
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"Turn so that your right side is facing me." Instructed the blonde-haired female, Officer Stephanie Ricconi, camera in hand. "Move your hair."
Allison calmly did what she was told, pulling her hair off to the side so that the bruise on her neck was visible. The officer snapped a shot of that as evidence.
She blinked rapidly at the sudden flash of light. "Are we almost done? Please, can we stop?" she asked through a very low level of voice.
"Yes," the woman politely retorted. "Just a couple more shots of your belly, and we'll wrap this up." The female officer adjusted her gloves.
Pulling her hospital gown off to the side, Allison squirmed at the feeling of the thin fabric slide against her bruised bump. "God, I'm like a freaking hippo." She sighed.
The officer snapped another shot. "I know how you feel." She giggled. "When I was expecting my first, I felt bloated twenty-four seven."
Allison's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, right by her bellybutton. Her breath caught in her throat, practically constricting her of oxygen. And her eyes were huge.
"…Wha-What did you say?" Allison's lips trembled. She nearly tripped over her own feet, but reacted quick enough to grab the hospital bed's railing. "Are you saying I'm…?"
Stephanie must've realized her mistake as she took notice of the teenager's reaction to her little joke.
"Allison… here let's take a seat." She walked over towards the youngster, helping her up on the bed.
Panic began to set it. The breaths she took became shorter and quicker, almost mirroring that of a panic attack. Allison's world was now crashing down.
"Th-This has to be a mistake. I-I'm only seventeen; I can't be having a baby." Allison barely squeezed out, fighting back tears.
"Sweetheart, I understand, but you're going to have to stay ca-"
"Calm? How the hell can I be calm?" she ran a rough hand through her hair, likely enough to pull some out. Her lips began trembling and tears ran freely down her face.
Stephanie kindly attempted to rub her back for emotional support. "Allison, please, you need to relax. You've had a bit of a shock, but you'll need to stay strong I guarantee it."
"Get out. Just leave me alone." Allison turned her body to where she was now facing the window.
Respecting the teenager's wishes, Stephanie pulled herself off the bed and let herself out of the room.
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"I hope he gets a ticket." Stiles mumbled, watching the black Camaro pull out of the stall.
"That's kinda harsh dude." Scott said.
Warm tubberware in hand, Scott walked past the hospital's sliding doors with Stiles in tow. He wanted to laugh, but at the same time disagree with Stiles.
In the months following the events after Peter was killed, Scott wasn't exactly sure as to classify Derek as a friend, mentor, or just a common associate. Out of the circle of friends, Derek Hale was the person he least knew anything about, other than his family heritage and their demise.
"He's harsh! If he's not trying to beat me up, threaten me, or kill me then he's always bringing my love life into the conversation."
Derek was only absent because he had been foolish enough to take up two parking stalls and think he could actually pull it off without being noticed.
They signed in as visitors. The two friends then hitched a ride from the hospital elevator.
"No offense Stiles, but... you have no love life."
"Not quite yet my friend. My game is just beginning to spark." he said matter-of-factly.
The bright lights on the elevator numbers stopped once it reached the third floor. The steel doors peeled apart, allowing the boys out.
"But... you have no game." Scott replied. They walked down the crowded hall way.
"Can you stop doing that! It drives me crazy." Stiles shot his serious face.
"Oh, so now you're trusting that Lydia will actually acknowledge your presence when we all get back to school. I don't know if it's just me, but she was wrapped around you the most when Jackson was near."
"It's just you." Stiles stopped dead in his tracks. He grabbed a pinchful of Scott's shirt, stopping him from going any farther. "Woah."
They stopped dead in their tracks, almost as if they were staring death himself in the face. And that form of death was Chris Argent, standing before the sheriff.
Stephanie stood before Stephen, clearly explaining her reckless mistake. "I'm so sorry sir, it just slipped out."
"Damn it Ricconi." Stephen sighed rubbing his temple. "This was not the right time to break the news to her."
"So what happens now?" she asked.
"We'll continue with the investigation. Try and nab Brody before he gets a chance to go too far."
"Dad?" Stiles asked, both he and Scott approached with caution; they'd obviously caught onto Chris's evil eyes he was giving them.
"Son? What are you..." the sheriff began to question. Chris however, jumped before him jabbing at finger at Scott.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he shot through gritted teeth.
Scott boldly stood his ground. No way was he going to let this man make him bow or retreat in any sort of way. "I'm here to see my girlfriend."
"I don't think so. You are to stay away from Allison at all costs McCall. Even after she gets it taken care of."
Scott's heart sank to the pit of his stomach, directly by his belly button. Did he mean what he was insuating? "...What are you talking about?" Stiles asked, feeling sick to his stomach.
Stephen did what was necessary and stepped in between the teenage boys and the adult. He did not want to witness an altercation that could easily be prevented, so he did what was best and pulled Chris away towards the corner of the wall. "You need to get ahold of yourself. You are about a finger away from being charger with assualt; and on a minor."
The sting of the tears hit him hard. His breathing almost slowed and he felt like he couldn't move. Was Allison really going to go through that? Scott quickly rushed into her room, pushing past Chris and Stephen. Allison queitly lay on they bed, only the sniffles could be heard from her frail form.
"Allison..."
"Go away Scott. Just go."
"Is it true what your dad says? You're not about to go through with... an abortion?" Scott barely squeezed out.
Allison turned over from her position. "Scott... I can't be a mom yet. I just can't. My life is already over as it is."
Scott sat on the end of the bed, careful not to harm her or the baby. "We can get through this together. I'l be there for you every step of the way. I'll go to all your doctor's appointments, I'll help pay for what we need, I already have a job, I just need more hours..."
Allison shook her head, making a single tear fall from her eye. "No. You don't have to. There will be no baby. I'm not doing it."
Scott felt a flood of emotions evade his core. Anger. Hurt. Disgust. It was much too unbearale to even talk to her right now. He leaned in real close, and only prayed she got this clear. "Fine. Just remember to never speak to me again after you murder your baby. Our baby."
Allison lowered her head, unable to look him in the eye any longer. Her body was then racked with sobs. "You are nothing like the girl I fell in love with. I don't even know you anymore."
Scott couldn't do it anymore. The tears just fell from his face, streaking his cheeks. Without any hesitation he threw down the cookies and papers and rushed out of the room.
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The darkness engulfed the small town of Beacon Hills, sleep coming in and taking over its residents. Seated in a dull part of town was a lone conveinent store, a well lit Exxon, remaining open for its twenty four hour extent. The store's clerk, a young blonde haired woman, leaned against the hard counter much too engulfed in her Seventeen magazine. She placidly flipped another page to the clothing section as she heard the door chime, signalling a new customer.
"Hello, how are you?" she said never taking her eyes off the magazine.
The silent figure wordlessly walked towards the snack aisle, hoodie pulled over their head as if to shield their identity away from the public.
"Hey, I said hello." the bored and aggitated clerk tried peering over the tall shelves. "Weirdo. I don't get paid enough for this job." she flipped the next page even harder.
Unbeknownst to her, there was danger looming close by. It was in her presence, but she carelessly ignored it. Her attention focused on the latest hairstlyes for summer was broken when the sound of a glass bottle shattering on the dirty floor earned her well given attention. It was then followed by the rustling sound of plastic being torn open.
"Hey! You're supposed to pay for that!" she yelled closing her magazine, coming from behind the safety of the counter to get a closer view of the odd individual. "I'm about a millasecond from kicking your ass!"
Whoever it was, they were on their hands and knees, lapping up the red liquid spreading freely on the floor. As much as the clerk yelled, they continued to lap at the spilled beverage, hungrily as if it were a life line.
"Did you hear me asshole? You pay or get out before I call the cops." she shoved her hand into her pocket much too rough and pulled out her Galaxy, dialing in the three numbers.
"Get away from me." whispered the person. "Please." the voice only got deeper.
"Nope. You had your chance and you blew it. You can weep and groan all you want to the cops." she pressed dial, setting the phone to her ear.
A low growl escaped the figure's lips. They then turned to face her, face still concealed yet the bright yellow eyes gave her the sense that she needed to get away and fast. The woman let out an ear piercing scream, dropping her phone before she retreated back to the safety of the counter. She repeatedly pressed the silent alarm; next, she retreived the hand gun kept beneath the register for safety purposes only. Once the safety was clicked off, she raised the gun to eye level.
Sadly, she never even had the chance to pull the trigger. The hooded figure rushed the counter, knocking the gun out of her grasp and scratching her fore arm in the process. She could only watch in agony as the crimson red ran down her arm, dripping on the floor. The figure reached a blood covered hand equipped with claws as far over the counter as they could get; their victim instantly flung herself as far away as possible, violently bumping into the cigarettes.
Another approaching customer, an elderly woman and her grandson, just exited her car. "I want some chips and candy mee maw." the little boy huffed.
"Careful now Randy. We don't want to ruin your supper."
"Gee. Thanks mee maw."
The hooded figure quickly bursted through the glass door and landed on the hood of the older woman's car. They turned half way and growled at the two of them before leaping off on all fours and taking off into the night.
Randy's mouth hung open in awe, his two missing front teeth in clear view. "Woah! Cool! Didya see that mee maw." he picked himself off the floor carefully stepping over the glass as he walked over to his grandmother.
"Oh my." she slowly adjusted her glasses, taking in the scenery of the wrecked car. The left car mirror finally gave way and fell off. "I'd better call the insurance company."