Chapter 10-

Allison's Revenge

As soon as Derek and Peter were out of sight, Stiles was pulling Penelope by her arm out of the building. "No! Derek was really hurt, we can't just leave him!" She shouted, pulling against his grip.

"You think he'd come back for us?" Stiles reasons, and she immediately nods, a gut feeling telling her that he wouldn't just abandon them for dead, would he?

"Just- okay, we can't go in there! Peter is insane, and has literal Alpha strength, you saw how easily he beat up Derek," he takes her hand in his, slowly walking them to the Jeep the whole time he was talking. "We'll wait here and see if they come out."

She hesitantly gets into the passenger seat, staring at the front door to the building they had just exited, until, just a few minutes later they were opening. Derek stepped out first, seemingly fine, and she shared a smile with Stiles, then they saw Peter walking behind him towards Derek's Camaro.

"What the fuck? What the fuck!" Stiles says from beside her, slamming his hand on the steering wheel. Penelope takes his hand again, in order to stop him from hurting himself. Then she gasps, remembering Scott, and she dives into her bag looking for her cell phone. When she can't find it she groans in exasperation.

"Hey, what's wrong?" She hears from the driver's seat, a hand rubbing her back where she's bent over towards the floor of the car.

"Where's your phone?" Penelope asks him urgently, and he pats his pockets in search of it. "It- it must have fallen out of my pocket inside," he tells her, his face going pale.

Penelope is out of the car in a second, sprinting towards the doors as she sees the Camaro speed away. Stiles shouts her name from behind her, and she can hear his thumping footsteps on the pavement. When she enters she scans the room, searching for the boy's phone. Thirty seconds pass and the door opens again, a wheezing Stiles with his hands on his hips. "You- have- to- slow down," he says in between heavy breaths.

"Do you see it?" She asks, still searching for the phone, "There!" She lunges for the device that had been sitting beside the partition that they were hiding behind earlier. "We need to call Scott," Nelly said shakily as she attempted to push the buttons on his phone, only to find that the phone was dead.

Stiles placed his hands on the sides of her arms, making her look at him, "He's gonna be okay, he's at the game, we can head there now."

She nods, tears welling up in her eyes from the panic she had just gone through. Stiles gently rubbed her arms, leading her back to the Jeep and into the passenger seat again. When he got in the car, he immediately peeled out of the parking lot, headed straight for the school.

The ride was silent, both of them too anxious to voice their concerns over Scott. But their hands naturally found each other, holding tight the whole way. She hadn't even noticed they were holding hands until they pulled up into the lot by the lacrosse field. The field was empty, besides a few lingering students and parents.

"Come on, he must be in the locker room," Stiles said, and together they ran to the locker room, with her mind racing. What if they were too late? What if something horrible had happened to him? Peter seemed like no joke, especially with the way he threw around Derek like it was nothing.

Tearing around the corner, they finally spot Scott sitting on a bench by the door, shirtless. He turns to look at them as soon as they enter, quickly standing and gathering the two of them in a tight hug. "I was so worried when neither of you answered my calls," he mumbled into Penelope's hair, rubbing circles on Stiles' shoulder.

"Scott, we've got a problem," Stiles finally said when they pulled apart.

"I know," Scott said seriously, a dark look in his eyes.

They talked to Scott's mother, who was still waiting at the field for her son, and he told her he was going to stay at Stiles' for the night. Stiles found his dad and told him he'd be at Scott's for the night, after enduring a scathing lecture on why he missed the game. Then the three of them piled into the Jeep yet again, and headed for Penelope's house.

"So he's gonna go after Nelly?" Stiles asked incredulously after listening to Scott's explanation of what had happened earlier.

"He didn't say that outright, but yeah, I think so," he said glumly.

"I mean it makes sense, all things considered, he did already go after her once," the other boy replied.

"Well he's not 'getting me' or whatever he thinks is gonna happen," she piped up from the backseat.

Scott turned to look at her, his eyes wide, "Of course he isn't. I'm going to protect you."

"We," Stiles coughed from the driver's seat.

"Yeah, my two strong boys, nothing bad will happen to me as long as I have you," Penelope smiled, a dreamy look on her face.

When they got to Penelope's house, they made a beeline for her room, jackets and shoes being shed. Scott gripped her hip, pulling her down beside him on the bed, and Stiles scooted close on her other side. Together they laid side by side, their arms around each other, breaths mingling. Scott made the first move, because of course he did, leaning in and capturing her lips with his own. It was soft, gentle, and full of care and adoration. He had been worried about the two of them, and she wanted to show him they were alright. Her hands went up to his hair, and she felt another set of hands rub up and down the side of her torso, following the curves of her waist and shoulder, then back down to her hip. She couldn't help the small moan that left her mouth and entered Scott's.

Scott pulled away and pushed at her shoulder to get her to turn over, mouth traveling to her neck. She met eyes with Stiles now, who had an open mouthed look of awe on his face. She blushed, looking down, feeling shy now, especially with Scott sucking marks on her lower neck. He brought his hand up to move the hair out of his face, leaning in before stopping, "Is this okay?"

"Kiss me, Stiles," she nodded. And he needed no more direction, kissing her hard. It wasn't like Scott's kisses, which were either soft and gentle or hard and passionate. Stiles' were full of need, like he wouldn't be able to breathe without her. He was just as inexperienced as she was, but they seemed to fit together seamlessly. Scott was moving his hand up her stomach and she shivered at the thought of where he was going. When his hand clasped her breast through her shirt, she gasped into Stiles' mouth. He looked at her to see what had happened, and saw Scott's hand, a fire growing in his eyes as he took her mouth again in another hard kiss, their tongues meeting, tangling around each other.

Minutes passed but it felt like hours, the three of them lying together made her feel powerful, like she could take on anything. When the kissing stopped, she was cuddled in between the two boys.

"When will your mom be home?" Scott asked, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

"Not until like 8 am, so as long as we get up early we should be good," she sighed, wrapping her arm around Stiles who laid in front of her.

Stiles kissed her forehead, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Lydia invited Allison and I to go dress shopping, so I guess the mall," she replied while stretching her legs.

"Speaking of the formal," Scott grimaced, "I can't go. Academic probation."

"What?" She shot up in bed, "How many classes are you failing?"

"Just two," he replied sheepishly.

"Two?! We need to start studying in between all this werewolf crap," she said sternly, and he nodded.

"Now come back to bed," he pulled her back down in between them.

Through a mist-shrouded trail, a shivering Lydia and Penelope reluctantly follow Allison into the woods. Penelope pulls at the sleeves of her maroon cable-knit sweater, then pulls the turtleneck higher; she had never been able to handle the cold well.

As Lydia and her trailed behind, the redhead called out, "Allison, when you said you need to stop for an errand before we went shopping, a five mile hike in the woods wasn't what I was expecting."

"It won't take long," was all they got in return.

"Can you at least tell me what we're doing?" Lydia asked, still huffing to try to keep up in her heels.

Allison answers, "You'll see." She shifts a heavy black bag on her shoulder as she trudged up the path.

"You know, the human body only has to drop to 95 degrees to be hypothermic," Lydia complains and then Allison quickly says, "Before I forget, I wanted to ask you if you're okay with something."

"I'll say yes to anything if it includes getting out of here."

"Jackson and Penelope are going to the formal together, they both needed dates," the brunette says with a hint of edge to her voice. Lydia blinks. Any real reaction remains imperceptible. Penelope on the other hand begins sputtering and waving her hands.

"I was going to go with… friends," she says weakly.

Allison smiles, "Don't worry, it'll be just as friends. But I wanted to see if Lydia was okay with it first." Any emotional reaction is still imperceptible, then Lydia smiles.

"Sure. As long as it's just friends."

Allison laughs, "Well yeah, I mean, it's not like I would take him into Coach's office during lacrosse practice to make out with him or anything."

Now it's perceptible, except not on Lydia, but Penelope. "Allison," the blonde girl tries weakly, "About that…" Allison drops the bag and unzips it.

"We should be good here. It's isolated enough." Inside the bag she reveals a bow and quiver of arrows. Penelope looks down at it then looks around to see the three of them are indeed completely isolated, then gives a nervous laugh.

Lydia and Penelope watch Allison take a normal arrow and twist off the bullet point. She replaces it with a cone-shaped bolt. "What does that do?" Lydia asks.

"We're about to find out," she takes a firing position in front of a target pegged to a tree in the distance. Setting the arrow just under the sight, she expertly pulls back on the nocking point of the bowstring. The other girls tense up as Allison aims, then lets the bolt soar. It explodes against the tree with a brilliant flash, strange whorls of light spinning into the air.

"What the hell was that?" Lydia asks. But Penelope, who was standing slightly behind her, recognized it instantly from the night in the Iron Works. Lowering the bow, Allison gazes at the smoking, scorched target on the tree and shakes her head, "I don't know."

When Penelope gets home that night, it's with two arms full of bags of things Lydia had made her get, but no formal dress. They had decided to go out again tomorrow. The first thing she notices is how quiet it is, even though her mothers car is in the driveway. Normally she waited up for her daughter, but tonight it was silent and dark in the house, when she knew her mom had just gotten off work, or was supposed to. Alarms raised in her mind for some reason, afraid now that maybe someone had broken in. She quietly lowered the bags to the floor, reaching in her pocket for her keys to use as a weapon.

That's when she saw the pill bottle on the counter. Walking closer, she hoped they weren't what she thought they were. But then she read the label and she knew: sleeping pills. Her mom had a huge problem with them when her dad had left them, but she got clean, went to therapy, and raised Penelope faithfully. But her mom was never the same. The kind carefree woman Penelope knew until she was 12 was gone. The woman she knew now was distant, moody, and extremely overbearing. Most of the time she didn't have to deal with it, due to her mother's work schedule. But when she did it was taxing on her.

Now her mom was apparently taking the pills again, her final coping mechanism. She peeked around the corner to see her mom's door ajar, and the woman passed out on the bed. Penelope breathes a sigh of relief before grabbing the bags and going to her room on autopilot.

An hour later, she's just drifting off to sleep when it feels like she's being pulled into slumber, and it's terrifying and hard to explain- almost like something was holding her very soul and pulling on it. When she closes her eyes for the last time in her room, she opens them again to see the woods, and the Hale house. Past her she sees a figure running from the house, hunched over in pain. Recognition clicks in her brain- Scott.

Penelope bolts up in bed, suddenly wide awake. All she knew was she had to get to the Hale house, and fast. Grabbing her phone and putting on her shoes, she ran as quietly as she could down the stairs and out the door. The drive there is quick, only a few minutes, and she parks her car at a path nearby, going in the woods toward the direction Scott was running in her dream. It should be dark, but she realizes with a shock that she can see clear as day.

With her night vision- which sounds insane to her and she can hardly process it- she spots Scott after a few minutes of searching and running through the woods. She scrambles to him, dropping on her knees beside him. Black liquid had begun coming out of his mouth, staining his lips. The bullet wound on his torso was a clear indication of the bullet used, due to the blue smoke exiting the hole.

"Penelope," he groaned weakly before passing out.

"No!" She shouts before realizing hunters may still be near them. Her numb fingers pull out her phone, starting to dial for help when she hears leaves crunching. She stills, even her breathing had stopped, looking around for the direction of the footsteps. But when Dr. Deaton emerged from the mist, his usual smile on his face, she was shocked.

"Dr. Deaton? Wh-what are you doing here?" She sniffles, not even realizing until now that she had been crying.

"I seem to have a patient needing my attention," he smirks knowingly, and for some reason that's all it takes for Penelope to trust him.

He carries Scott through the woods, until they get to his car and she says she'll meet him at the Animal Hospital, and begins sprinting back to her car. When she gets there she takes a shaky breath, evening out her hand in order to insert the key in the ignition. After calming herself, she reverses and makes the drive to the vet's in less than 3 minutes.

Scott is just trying to sit up when she enters, but is stopped by Dr. Deaton. He had just removed the bullet, but it was still a nasty wound.

"Scott, just lay down," she says, going to his side.

His eyes find hers, relief washing over his face and his eyes soften, "Penelope." Then he looks to the doctor again, confusion settling in.

"You're fine. And I've given you something that should speed up the healing process," he tells Scott.

"But... you're a vet," the boy replies.

"Very true. And ninety percent of the time I'm mostly treating cats and dogs."

"Mostly?" The two teenagers ask in unison.

Deaton turns to them with a knowing smile, "Mostly."