Note that in this chapter, the italicized paragraph(s) enclosed in linebreaks are flashbacks. This chapter will be kind of like Teen Wolf Season 3A, episode 6 "Motel California" because the plot of the chapter will be heavily influenced by flashbacks.
SUCCUMB
CHAPTER IX - ALLISON
Allison groaned when a beam of light hit her face, opening her eyes to realize that she was not on her bed nor was she inside her room. She was actually sitting on the opposite end of her cream couch inside the apartment's living room. Her father was sitting on a chair, across from her, with dried blood caking his forehead and Allison began wondering how that happened.
Hearing her phone beep, reminding her of school and how she couldn't afford to miss more class, Allison stood up, immediately feeling her feet and legs sore, as if she had been trekking the whole night and strangely enough when she looked down to inspect a lingering uncomfortable feeling, she realized her boots and the carpet was covered with mud, that there was a trail from the door leading up to where she and her father was.
Also, her back ached like she had been thrown against a wall or something.
Something weighed heavy in Allison's stomach, a feeling that refused to fade away. "What happened?" her head swung around to the spot where her father was, sitting up straightly, wincing when his fingers touched the wound on his forehead. The confused expression Allison saw confirmed her thoughts that her father knew just as much as she did about the events last night—little to nothing at all.
Allison wouldn't be surprised if her father didn't anything because if that was the case, he wouldn't be alone. It was like she had no recollection of what happened last night but she knew that there was something missing, something incredibly important that tugged at her stomach, telling her to remember but she couldn't.
Allison thought of Derek, how he told her of when his first love, Paige had died inside the root cellar where her Dad, Stiles' father, and Scott's mother were rounded up to be used by Jennifer as sacrifices. It shouldn't have come to the point where they had a mad goose chase to hunt down Jennifer to find their parents, and things wouldn't have gotten so desperate to teaming up with Deucalion if the Talia Hale never took Derek and Peter's memories.
A part of Allison thought of her memories being stolen from her as her fingers found its way to the back of her neck, checking if there were any marks of claws but there was nothing. She didn't feel any wound that would have told her that she was attacked by some random werewolf to take her memories of last night back when she was at the preserve—
Allison looked at her father, a brow raised and her expression thoughtful. "Dad, were we at the preserve last night?" looking around, she looked at the carpet and at the floor, noting that being in the preserve would have explained why their shoes and pants were covered with mud.
Allison's father had this deep and somewhat troubled look on his face before his hand cupped his chin. "I'm not sure." There was this doubtful expression that made her want to search the entire, to find something. "We were hunting something, weren't we? I think we were hunting someone in the woods. Maybe a violent one, a rogue?" her Dad offered hopefully but there was this doubt in his voice that caused Allison to think that her father was trying to convince himself rather than his daughter who stood in front of him, confused.
And her father didn't make sense, a particular word he said had sparked something in her mind that gave Allison this fuzzy feeling, her mind going all static-y as she stepped out of the living room, staring both ends of the hallway that lead to either the rooms and the study or the kitchen and the elevator. "Not a rogue, but there was violence. I think." Allison said, almost feeling like she was in a daze, a part of her panicking thinking that she was being haunted by her Aunt Kate when something didn't add up.
Like Stiles and Scott, Allison didn't know that she was being haunted by her aunt until she'd see the demonic apparition so she crossed that option out. She wasn't being haunted again because, somehow, she had overcome the effects of re-powering the Nemeton. Allison was sure that whatever she was experiencing, it wasn't because of the Nemeton because whenever she was "visited" by the visions of her Aunt Kate, she felt cold like the temperature suddenly dropped.
Allison's head ached, her hands rushing to her head, her eyes closed with the pain spiking. Like a ghost, she thought to herself.
There was shouting before Allison felt a twig snap under the pressure of her foot as she bolted towards a tree, crouching low as if to take cover from the rustling sound that came from a bush nearby. "Did you hear that?" she whispered to her father who was hiding behind a tree next to her. Allison's finger collided against the cold metal trigger of her tactical assault crossbow, her breath suddenly fogging up like the temperature suddenly dropped as a particular scent filled the air.
Her father, apparently, did hear the rustling sound that came from in front of them when they had just heard the same rustling and whoosh from behind them. Her Dad had a gun in his hand and the other was inching towards a pocket inside his jacket, probably where his phone was. "Do you think we have a ghost problem here? We could call the Campbells or the Winchesters—" her father was cut off when a dark and shadow-y presence appeared behind him, throwing him in her direction.
Allison knew ghosts from the bestiary and from what she's seeing, she and her father weren't facing a ghost.
Snapping back to reality when she's heard a soft beep from behind her, Allison realized that she was inside the kitchen and her father was checking a small tablet near the telephone, pointing at the screen that showed when the security code was punched in only to display a particular time. "We went home at 2:47 in the morning, we were definitely hunting something." Allison nodded but soon narrowed her eyes at a small cabinet near the door where her arrow case was. She never left that case out in the open just like that.
Feeling her father trail behind her, Allison opened up the case and noticed a few arrows missing. Not a significant amount that screamed bloody massacre or a murder, but enough to maim or seriously injure which confused her. "If we were hunting a violent one, then why didn't we kill it?" Allison wondered out loud, going straight for the gun hanging by her father's hip and taking away the magazine, showing only a few silver bullets.
They weren't wolfsbane. "Our clothes," her father murmured, jarring Allison back to reality when she set down the magazine on the cabinet where her arrow case was. Their clothes, though covered in dust and mud, was fairly clear of blood. Usually, when they killed werewolf, they would take the body and bury it because everyone deserves a proper burial but their clothes have no trace of blood whatsoever which meant a lucky or accurate shot wasn't the case.
"What happened last night?" Allison asked, her voice low and was practically whispering because she didn't feel safe, it was like someone was listening in their conversation, afraid that someone was trying to hide from her and her father, that when the person learns that they're connecting the dots, she and her father will end up with yet another clean slate with no idea as to what happened the night before when suddenly, a loud knock sounded and then a short thump followed.
Allison felt her heart jump when the sound reached her and only noticed that her hand was inching towards a knife near her when her father began inching his way towards the door, opening it halfway when a body fell to the ground, Isaac's unconscious body was on her father's feet when everything came to her. It was only at the moment when her father yelled of how Isaac was wounded and not healing did the events register in her mind.
Only then did Allison found the ability to move and drop to her knees, trying to wake her friend up. "Dad!" Allison gasped when her father started punching Isaac, wanting to stop him but she knew he was doing it for her friend. Isaac was probably in shock from whatever had attacked him or something and he clearly wasn't healing so her father decided to take matters into his own hands—quite literally—and try to trigger her friend's werewolf side to begin the healing process.
Allison noticed her friend's shirt. It was the same retro British band t-shirt he wore yesterday when he rounded her and the rest of their friends up when he was trying to find out why she and Stiles are getting better while Scott was getting worse. The thought occurred to her that Isaac was probably unconscious since yesterday morning because he never really did join her and Lydia for lunch.
"Isaac!" Allison shook her friend's shoulder, murmuring his name in an effort to wake him up as her father did the more aggressive approach when Isaac did wake up, sitting up straight, the bright and warm golden eyes striking as he got up on his feet, rushing away from where he was lying on the ground.
Her father beside her tensed up and his hand reached out for the gun inside the holster hanging by his hip. "What's wrong, Isaac?" Allison heard her father ask slowly, eyeing Isaac carefully when her friend let out a deep breath, his eyes closed and his breath shaky. In that moment, Allison knew that her father was no longer afraid that Isaac might go wild or go in a killing frenzy because the both of them could hear the fear resonate in the air as her friend stood close the window.
"The light," Isaac said, looking relieved as a beam of light passed through the clear window before he pointed at her shadow. It was only then when Allison realized that Isaac was now not only afraid of tight spaces but also of the dark. "I don't. . .the dark, I can't. . .it was so dark."
Beside her, Allison's father tensed up again. "Isaac, what happened? Who attacked you?" her father's voice held fear as it shook. To any other person, it would seem like her father was angry at whoever or whatever attacked Isaac but to her, to Allison who knew her Dad like the back of her hand, she knew that he was scared and that something was incredibly wrong because even a ghost's haunting won't make anyone's skin ice cold.
Isaac shuddered, probably from being cold as he closed his eyes, enjoying the heat of the light from the sun. "I don't know. It was dark," he confessed and Allison saw her father's hand twitch in the corner of her eye. "I was inside the lacrosse team's locker room and I noticed that the windows were blacked out with black Cartolina, probably some freshmen trying to prepare for Mischief Night, you know, for a Halloween prank then suddenly, I wasn't alone." Isaac looked like he was reminiscing, reliving what had happened to him. "There were five of them, all dressed in black and they seem to fade away like smoke or—"
Turning her head to her father, Allison saw the steely gaze her father gave Isaac. "Shadows. They seem to fade away like shadows, don't they?" Isaac's eyes widened in surprise, nodding. "And their eyes were this yellow-ish green, something like. . ." her father trailed off, his brows furrowing together as if he was trying to think of a word that would fit the description perfectly when Isaac narrowed his eyes on a glow-in-the-dark magnet on the fridge door.
"Like a firefly. Their eyes glowed like a firefly." Allison looked at Isaac and her father, confused at the understanding happening in between them, wondering what her father knew and what happened to her friend. Isaac's reached for the back of his neck, as if to scratch something when he winced in pain. "And they kind of reached out for me, like a hand like this," Isaac held his hand in front of her, probably trying show what happened to him when Allison spotted her father's brows furrowing together.
Allison narrowed her eyes at her father, who was unaware at her gaze because he was deep in his thoughts. He knows something about the attackers but he doesn't know everything about them, she thought to herself when Isaac pulled his hand away and looked at her strangely as if to ask what she was thinking.
"Dad," Allison began, turning to face her father. "What do you know about this?" Isaac also turned to face her father, too, having this expression.
Her fathers shifted uncomfortably, his feet tapping the ground as if he was restless, and his expression showing how troubled and confused he was. "It was a long time ago; I was young, just finished my training back then when Gerard sent me across the country to do some gun deal with a Japanese mobster when three shadow figures—onis—appeared and one of the mobsters turned into something called a nogitsune and there's nothing much I know about them. . ." trailing off, her father's eyes widened, as if he remembered something and went out of the kitchen, going inside his office to get a small wooden box.
Allison followed, watching as her father slowly open the box and beside her, Isaac sucked in a breath of air and pointed at the content of the box. Looking closer, she saw that it was bits and pieces of black ceramic. If Allison didn't know better about the supernatural world, she would have thought of it as a broken plate.
Isaac walked by her, passing across her as if she wasn't there. Her father inched a bit to a side, giving her friend some room to take a closer look at the fragment of what seemed to be like fine ceramic. "Their masks. This is what their masks were made out of—how'd you get it?" Isaac asked pointedly, raising the piece of what looked like black ceramic in the air. Allison could see from her friend's face that he needed to know. "I did everything I can but it was like every single punch I throw at them went straight through. How did you stop them?" Isaac asked through gritted teeth.
For once in her life, and never did she see the day coming, Allison saw her father confused speechless. The strong man she portrayed him to be, a pillar of strength and will and head-strong determination even after so much tragedy, that image Allison had of her father was gone when she saw her Dad breathe shakily and tremble at the mere thought of a shadow figure, an oni. "I don't know, Isaac, but I have a bad feeling about this so the both of you," he pointed at her, too, grabbing a gun from his desk and checking its magazine. "I need the both of you to keep low and stay quiet about this. Just until I know enough."
Isaac, beside, her was unexpectedly calm and reserved. Allison didn't expect that from him, seeing that she would always remember the boy who accepted the bite from the then power-seeking alpha Derek Hale used to be, the teenager who was abused and beaten by his father to a point where the only thing he had in mind was to kill the man when he finally got the chance—the power—to do something.
All Allison got from Isaac was a scoff, a look of disbelief. "You mean you lead those. . .things here? Now?" Isaac's voice finally showed emotion; raw anger and fury burned in his eyes and Allison already stepped forward to try and stop her friend before anything bad could happen when the look in his eyes changed all of a sudden. "Now." Isaac echoed the words and a look of horror found its way unto her father's face and Allison, too, realized what the word meant. "If this happened to Scott, I don't know what's going to happen to him. . ."
Allison went out of the study and went straight for the living room, immediately spotting her bag and fishing her phone out of one of its pockets. Dialing a particular number, Isaac and her father came inside the living room and pointed at a telephone. "Isaac, call Melissa and ask her if she's seen Scott and Dad, call the Sheriff and ask for the surveillance footage, we need to see if a camera's picked Scott up," Allison directed when she stopped, suddenly, in her tracks while pacing around when she saw the look on Isaac's face and the expression that probably mirrored her own on her father.
Isaac did a double-take. "Wait. What do you mean? When did Scott go missing?" the look on her father's face asked the same thing but there was something deeper into that expression, the look that spoke volumes and confused Allison even more.
"He is, or at least I think he is but the real question is how did we find out about Scott being missing?"
The sound of a siren reminded Allison of every single one of Jennifer Blake's victims, reminding her of dead bodies and people she could have saved but failed to do so.
Allison stood in front of the camping grounds, most of the adrenaline junkies hiking and the outdoors-y people with fishing and camping gear were ordered to go home but she kept firm on her spot, refusing to move away from the police tape that kept the place off limits to civilians.
The police had been combing the place for a while now, an hour or two probably, and there was still nothing.
There was some talk among the campers, the civilians who were seemingly unaware as the police and the paramedics escorted a somewhat shaky Kira with a gash running fairly long across her arm with Mr. Yukimura trailing behind while talking to someone on the cellphone. There was a lot of blood but it wasn't an alarming amount for those who were used to the sight but the real show stopper was the fact that a deputy had been calling Henry Tate when, from the woods, a teenage girl dressed up in only a jacket was being escorted out of the woods.
A small sigh escaped Allison's lips when she realized who the girl being escorted was. Scott found a way to turn Malia back into a human, she thought to herself. With the whispering growing louder, a particular voice rang above the rest and Allison could hear was a shout from the woods.
Damning all propriety and tossing it out of her figurative window, Allison bent low on her knees and sneaked inside the restricted area, ignoring the cries her best friend yelled or the fact that people were taking pictures of her when she heard a familiar voice—Deputy Jordan Parrish, she thinks—shout about a bag mercilessly torn apart and an unconscious boy bleeding.
Allison has been waiting for what seemed to be the longest hour—or two—of her life and it seemed like an eternity and to hell was she going to wait for some special broadcast from the Sheriff's Station to only know what happened to Scott.
Honestly, in her life, Allison never thought that she could run so fast but she did, especially when her mind conjured up the image of Scott unmoving and unnaturally still for a boy she knew to have so much energy. So, she ran as fast as she could with Lydia trailing behind her only to find the Sheriff carrying his son, Stiles, in his arms. It was a sad scene to take up in her mind as she saw a father covered in his son's blood.
Lydia, unsurprisingly and understandably, left her side and went straight for the Sheriff's, her eyes searching frantically for a sign that her boyfriend was alive and breathing, muttering the usually hyperactive teenager's name over and over again, hoping to get a reaction. "Stiles. . .Stiles!" Allison, of course, felt bad because her friend—her best friend's boyfriend—was hurt but she couldn't help but feel like it was wrong.
While the Sheriff brought over Stiles to one of the ambulance parked near the entrance to the trail and the camping grounds, Allison tried to sneak away from the deputies holding her by the arm and searched for Scott herself, shouting his name over and over again as she ran through the somewhat thick forest when a woman caught up to her and brought her back to where her father stood waiting for her. She tried to get away, but her father's arms were far too strong for her to break free and eventually, when the skyline had split in two, the Sheriff walked up to her with an apologetic look on his face.
"I'm sorry," Allison heard him mutter and her father's arms continued to hold her inside his arms. "We couldn't find him. But we've got an APB on him and I've already took the liberty of filing out a missing person's case for Scott." The Sheriff breathed out, obviously itching to get out of the place and go to the hospital where his son currently was. "Thank you, by the way, Allison. Everything would have turned out different if you hadn't called us."
Allison wanted to feel better—she had saved Stiles and Kira—but her heart still weighed heavy because the person she wanted to save was missing and she didn't know if he was safe or he was still even alive. It was wrong to feel that their lives were worth less but it felt like that to Allison, and while she had nothing against the two, she loves Scott and in the end, it's still his safety she would prioritize.
Nodding wordlessly, Allison wanted nothing more than to go back to the apartment and arm herself with her crossbow with a few flashbang arrows to search the woods because she needed to find Scott but her father still had his strong grip on her arm and insisted that they would go with the Sheriff to the hospital to visit Stiles and tell the news to Melissa.
Allison stared straight at her father, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Because we were," in front of her, her Dad nodded and cupped his chin as if he was just remembering what exactly happened. "We were waiting alongside the other campers when the search was called off because it was getting dark and it was dangerous. The Sheriff told us himself before we all went to the hospital to visit Stiles," she remembered the car ride, how it was so quiet and how there was tension in the air because she wanted to go look for Scott.
But her Dad didn't allow her to until—
Her father had fixed his steely gaze on her. "You sneaked out, went to the woods to go and search for him yourself." Allison remembered bumping to her father in the middle of the woods, the look of disappointment on his face affected her in a way she couldn't look her her father in the eye for the rest of the night.
Allison nodded, the events of last night making a bit more sense. "We were fighting because you wanted to take me home and I didn't." Allison swallowed air when she remembered what she did next, what she said next to her father who only looked after her safety. "We were shouting," her voice trembled as the words rolled off her tongue, suddenly reliving this fear of something.
Allison kept shouting at her Dad when something behind them made this whoosh sound that made her stop, her shouts dying down before she bolted towards the tree nearest to her. "Then we heard something." Her father said in a deadly calm voice that, when she turned to see Isaac, he had this uncomfortable look on his face.
Allison saw her breath fog in the air when she narrowly missed hitting a tree.
"Allison, keep up!" her father, who was way ahead of her, bellowed and she quickly picked up pace, avoiding the trees when she heard a few gunshots. Her stomach churned at the sound and if it weren't for the fact that she could still hear twigs crunching and the sound of running from behind her, she would have stopped to check and see if he was okay.
"Dad!" she yelled, not looking back when she made a sharp turn, avoiding a small rock formation. "Be careful! We can't kill him!" Allison huffed when she jumped over yet another rock formation but lost her footing when she landed, causing her to tumble. Allison screamed in pain when she tried walking, her ankle protested as she still tried to fast walk when she had bumped into someone's chest.
She had half expected it to be her father. Allison was, in fact, hoping that the person she had bumped into was her father but she didn't get to guess long when she was thrown into the air and her back painfully slammed against the ground. "Allison!" she heard her father's voice sound in the distance before running was heard in the distance and gunshots rang in the air, alarming Allison even though her eyelids felt heavy enough.
Allison wanted to stop her father when he appeared from the thick forest, holding two guns that were undoubtedly loaded with wolfsbane bullets. "Please be careful, Dad," she croaked finally succumbing into sleep when her father begged for everything to stop, yelling a name in the end.
Though she had blacked out, Allison could feel a dark presence hovering above her. "You look like you're doing rather well in Chemistry. Perhaps you would know who I'm looking for. 19, 53, and 88."
Allison was jarred back to reality when the landline inside the kitchen went ringing and Isaac was out of the tension-filled office in a matter of seconds.
Rushing behind her father, Allison went inside the kitchen only to see Isaac with an unreadable expression on his face that made her a bit nervous. "That was Derek." Allison was actually quite surprise when Isaac told her and her father that it was Derek calling their landline. She half expected the caller to be Melissa calling in for some help with Scott because he's still missing or something like that but never did she consider Derek as someone who would call her landline.
Memories of her torturing his beta resurfaced and seeing the grimace on Isaac's face, Allison knew that her chemo-signal gave it away and he was probably reliving the twenty or so stabs to the stomach using her Chinese ring daggers.
"What did he say?" Allison asked despite the tugging at her stomach that said she didn't need Isaac to answer her to know that something bad had happened and it involved Scott.
Isaac gulped and avoided her questioning glances. "He said that," his voice wavered and he looked disoriented like he didn't know what to do. "He, er—Derek found Scott passed out in the middle of his loft, unconscious. That his skin was ice cold, that there was a lot of blood." Isaac coughed to clear his throat and her father pushed pass by her, stepping forward. "We need to help Scott."
"Isaac, what happened to Scott?" her Dad demanded.
"He has no anchor. There was a lot of blood and that Scott isn't healing," at first, Allison was confused because Scott's a werewolf, a supernatural shape shifter who can heal faster than any human can when she remembered that he had lost his anchor. He had nothing to draw his strength from which meant he can't control his werewolf side which included his healing.
Isaac was getting restless, just a few minutes after the phone call and his hand was still hovering above the telephone. Eventually, his unreadable expression morphed into something different and Allison realized then that he was trying to keep his cool but failed and snapped. It was his alpha in trouble, so naturally, Isaac would be in distress, too. "We have to get to him. I'll meet you at the loft." Isaac said curtly and in just a few seconds, her friend was out of the apartment.
There was a few seconds of silence inside the kitchen. Allison stared at her father and saw this expression on his face that told her he was remembering something, probably from last night, and she couldn't help but wonder what it was about when an alarm clock rang. The sound of the clock jarred Allison back to reality and realized that there was something she could do to help Scott as she ran towards her room and went through her nightstand, going through the receipts she kept in there until she found a small calling card.
"Allison?" her father's voice reached her ears and when she turned around, the card still inside her hands, she saw that her Dad was a bit unfocused and that had pretty much confirmed her theory on him reliving or remembering something from last night but as much as she wanted to ask her father about it, they didn't have the time to do an interrogation. "What's that?" he asked, his eyes narrowed at the small piece of specialty board in her hand.
"Monroe. We have to get the watch back," her father's brows had furrowed.
"Allison, it's only been two days, I doubt that the man's finished with it already!" Allison shook her head and ran for the living room, hoping to see her cellphone in the place she woke up in before seeing it placed on top of the coffee table. Ignoring her father's protests, Allison dialed the number written on the calling card and soon, the ringing had stopped and a rather nasally voice answered.
"Hello?" Allison heard Monroe's as she grabbed her car keys and her father was behind her. "Uh, who is this?"
"Hey, Monroe, this is Allison Argent. You know, the vintage Lusina girl?" Allison breathed out, running towards the elevator, pressing down on the floor for the parking when her father finally got in. "Is there any chance that I can get the watch today? I kind of need it right now because of an emergency." There was a bit of shuffling and some other noise before there was a period of silence.
Soon, when Allison was getting antsy and impatient, Monroe spoke up shakily into the phone. "Sorry, had to go to the workshop and see if it's ready." There was a bit noise and Allison could see that Monroe placed the phone on top of a table or something and placed it on speaker mode. "So, back to the watch—I've fixed the bronze casing and cleared all the rusts. As for the clockwork itself, the shards of glass has been removed and as a watch per se, it's good but the leather straps aren't replaced yet. Though, if you want, I could head over to, say, Beacon Hills Plaza and give the watch to you."
Allison breathed in relief when she realized that the watch was fixed, and while new leather straps would have been good for its durability, she realized that the old ones still probably held the same chemo-signal that calmed down Scott before they took their ice bath to save their parents. "Yeah, yeah. That's great. See you there, Monroe." She said into the phone before hanging up, looking behind her to see her father's SUV exiting the parking lot.
Soon, her phone beeped and showed a text from her Dad. "Derek called. Needs help with Scott. Going to Dr. Deaton. Go ahead to the watch repairman and meet us at the loft." Allison's stomach took a turn for the worse as he placed her phone down and drove all the way to Beacon Hills Plaza, stopping parking in front of a famous coffee shop where she and Monroe agreed to meet up and while she's waiting for a sign that the Wesen Blutbad was there, she couldn't help but think of the text message her father sent her.
Her Dad going ahead before her to Derek's loft was one thing but getting Deaton all of a sudden was another.
Allison knew that Scott wasn't attending the sessions with Deaton to help cope with the after-effects that came with dying and re-powering the Nemeton but to have his boss brought in was something that worried her endlessly and, with the mention of the veterinarian's name, she immediately thought of the worst when suddenly there was a knock on her car window and when she turned to her side to see who it was, she was Monroe holding a small velvet box.
Calming down and regaining her composure, Allison rolled down her window and gave Monroe a tight smile. "Sorry for having to drag you out here," she gave an apologetic look but Monroe waved it off and gave a warm smile and handed the small velvet box. Allison opened it and saw the watch, and true to his words, the watch had a new bronze casing and paused a while, just looking at the hands of the watch move and hear it sound.
"No big deal," Monroe pointed out that if she wanted to keep the watch in tip-top shape, she'd have to get it serviced every now and then. "Oh, and, good luck with your werewolf friend. I mean, if a pretty girl like you handing an equally beautiful and sentimental watch like this isn't enough to anchor him to his humanity, then I have no idea what it would take to get to him." Allison stared at Monroe, surprised that he knew when he pointed to his nose. "The black blood combined with the chemo-signals on the straps reeked of sentimental value for your werewolf friend's family and your worrying gives it away."
Allison couldn't find the words to say anything, to either deny or thank him so she just nodded before revving up the engine and yet when she looked at her rear-view mirror, Monroe had a warm smile on his a face and a thumbs up.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated against her leg and when she fished out the phone, she saw a message from Mr. Yukimura, and while she wondered at first how the new History teacher managed to get her phone number, Allison remembered her school records and how teachers were allowed to the student's contact information.
'This is Mr. Yukimura, Allison. Just wanted to ask a favor from you. Can you ask Scott to join us for dinner? A thank you token from me and my wife for saving our daughter, Kira.'
Driving to Derek's loft was more of a blur to Allison as she just spent the majority of the time just looking plainly at the road and glancing at the watch as if it would magically disappear into the air, leaving her without anything to help with Scott when she pulled up on a turn, spotting a familiar building and her father's SUV near Derek's black 2010 Camaro.
Pulling up on a spot near her Dad's car, Allison grabbed the small velvet box and dashed into the building, making her way towards Derek's loft which was on the top floor. When she was near the loft, Allison a familiar voice yelling and soon, when she knocked on the door, no one answered or opened it. For a second, Allison was getting worried, wondering if something happened to her Dad and her friends when the locks clicked and soon Derek was standing in front of her, his face covered with scratches that were healing nicely.
But still, Allison could see the depth of the wounds. She could see hos much blood stained Derek's t-shirt but it paled in comparison when she spotted the crimson red liquid with stripes of jet black pooling in the middle of the loft and Allison was sure that it was from Scott.
"What happened here?" Allison asked, seeing the entire loft in disarray with random numbers etched into the ground and the walls, the furniture was tossed aside and were upside down.
Derek, the one who had opened the door. "I honestly don't know what happened or how it happened but Scott ended up inside the loft, covered in blood and mud." Allison gripped the velvet box and crouched near the blood pooling on the ground of the loft, smacked right in the middle. "I just got back, actually, from Mexico with Peter when we found Scott writhing in pain, murmuring these numbers." Allison stood up and saw in the ground, the numbers 19, 53, and 88 etched on the concrete floor with claws probably.
"I seriously don't know why we don't just kidnap the girl to calm Scott down." Derek was annoyed at the impression and the poker face turned into a scowl, glaring at Isaac. "We can steal her memories later but right now, we need someone to calm Scott down and anchor him to fucking humanity!" Isaac yelled and Derek massaged his forehead, obviously trying to stay calm. Allison wanted to intervene when she realized something.
Feeling her body protest, Allison saw her father standing with a blank and somewhat jaded expression on his face and she wanted to call out to him when she was suddenly grabbed by the shoulder. Soon, she was looking at this terrifying set of red irises, much like an alpha's eyes, but the sclera was black and not white, reminding her of demons.
"Now, Allison, I want you to look and listen closely, alright?" the menacing voice came out as a sadistic laugh. "You're going to forget everything and you're going to wake up with no memory of this at all, okay?" Allison wanted to protest but she couldn't. It was like she was compelled to follow the voice.
"Compelling!"
Isaac and Derek looked at her, questioning glances were shot at her general direction when footsteps sounded. "Quiet now, Miss Argent," Peter walked down the spiral staircase, grimacing at probably the wounds on his arms or the headache he was seemingly having as he massaged his forehead. "It's a little but too early to wake up the neighbors, isn't it?" he smiled sarcastically and headed straight for the kitchen, avoiding the puddle of blood in the middle of the living room to go get a glass of water.
Allison ignored Peter and searched the loft, looking for signs of her father and of Deaton when there was a loud crash from one of the upstairs room. Derek sighed and Isaac growled at his former alpha. "I told you, we should just kidnap this girl already!" Isaac ran for the the staircase but was stopped by Deaton and her father walking down, panting and catching their breath as if they've been through a triathlon instead of facing Scott.
"We couldn't get to Scott. We're going to have to—"
Derek's frown deepened. "What happened?" Allison didn't wait for an answer and went straight for the staircase, narrowly missing her father's arm trying to hold her bag and ignoring Derek and Isaac calling her name. She just went straight to the door with claw marks running through the wood, ruining the varnish.
Allison gulped and slowly inched forward, pushing the door open only to see the entire room trashed like a robber swept in to clean the place of its valuables or a mini-tornado came in and turned the room upside down but the one detail that stood out from the rest of the rest was Scott, sitting in the corner with blood pooling around him, shaking with what seemed like fear.
"Allison!" footsteps sounded as she heard her father call out her name. Immediately, she turned to look at the door and the source of the sound when Scott tensed up. It was only then when Allison realized that she needed to talk to Scott alone so she closed the door shut, seemingly just in time, too, because just when the lock clicked, there was loud banging, fists rapping on the wooden board that divided her from her friends and her father.
Looking around the room, Allison's eyes landed on a wooden brown dresser and pushed it towards the door that would hopefully stop her werewolf friends with an unfair advantage, because of their supernatural strength, from barging in.
Finally, when Allison felt like the only way Isaac and Derek could get inside the room was by breaking off the wall, she turned to face Scott who was shying away from her. "Hey, Scott," she held her hand in front as if to show that she wasn't approaching him like how her father did. "What happened?" she asked softly, slowly going around the bed that was turned upside down with claw marks at the stubby, wooden legs.
Scott was breathing abnormally fast and worried Allison. "I don't, I can't—" a grimace appeared on his pale face and she realized that his complexion, for a natural Californian, was disturbingly colorless. Seeing the blood, Allison would have contributed the paleness from blood loss but something told her that there was something more to it, something that probably went along the lines of sleep deprivation considering there were dark and somewhat large rings under his eyes.
"What's happening? Do you want me to call Stiles or your Mom?" Scott immediately shook his head, waving his hands in the air furiously but Allison was just tempted to call Melissa even more especially after seeing his hands caked in black and red blood.
"No, not them. I don't—I don't want to worry them. Please don't call them, Allison." Seeing Scott's skin peeking over the torn apart and blood-soaked shirt wasn't helping his case but as much as she wanted to call for Melissa, she had left her phone inside her car and mentally chided herself for not telling Isaac to call for help from Stiles.
Allison couldn't just yell out to her father, Derek, Deaton, or Isaac to call Melissa and Stiles because she needed to get Scott to open up to her and let her help him but he won't let her if she wouldn't respect his wishes, so she grudgingly nodded. "Alright, I won't call them." Scott sighed before he swayed dozily, obviously dizzy before he winced in pain and Allison realized that if she didn't act soon, he would bleed out to death.
"Thanks, Allison," he muttered under his breath, almost resembling a whisper as Allison stood up to look at the door leading to the bathroom. Quickly, she ran straight towards the medical cabinet and searched for anything she could use to stop the bleeding but there was nothing. Pacing around inside the bathroom, Allison heard a rough coughing spell from Scott and paled when she saw blood staining his lips, a sign that he would soon be choking on his own blood.
Shutting her eyes closed, Allison took a moment to breathe and collect her thoughts so she could patch Scott up like she did when he fought against the Alpha Pack, and when she opened her eyes, her gaze landed on a white water heater.
Grabbing the kettle, Allison filled it halfway with water from the tap and quickly turned it on, seeing the blue light shining telling her that it was beginning to heat before she ran out of the bathroom and went straight towards a cabinet, seeing numerous articles of shirts and pants held by classy wooden hangers and a collection of shoes sitting in the ground. Looking around, Allison found a drawer and spotted the needles and threads, grabbing them as fast as she could when she heard the kettle whistle.
Going back to where Scott was while carrying the needle and thread in one hand and the kettle in another, Allison's breath had hitched in her throat when his head had slumped to a side. Her eyes widened at the sight, her mouth hanging open. "Scott," she patted his shoulder, hoping to get some kind of reaction from her ex-boyfriend, she would have even welcomed a soft groan telling her to get away from him but there was nothing.
Realizing that she has little time left, she sterilized the threaded needle with the hot water and ripped Scott's shirt open, gasping at the deep wound and the amount of blood he's lost. At that point, Allison realized that she definitely needed to call Melissa because if Scott didn't have an anchor to get his werewolf side in check and heal himself, he's going to need at least 3 pints of blood to make up for all that he's lost.
"Hey, Scott, stay with me. Come on, stay with me now," Allison gently padded the area around Scott's wound and earned a soft whimper from him. Allison's eyes widened as a sigh of relief escaped her lips when she finally got a response from him, though it was a pained grunt, a response nonetheless that she was thankful to have because that way she knew that Scott was alive.
"It's—" Scott coughed roughly, his body shaking as blood glistened on his lips. "—hard." He finished, inhaling sharply when Allison finally began to work on the wound, closing it up so Scott won;t have to lose more blood than he's already lost. "Feel so sleepy, Allison," tears welled in her eyes as blood continued to drip from Scott's lips. "I don't feel. . .good," he had trouble finishing that last word as Allison finally cut the thread, a small sigh escaping her lips.
Suddenly, when Allison was still looking around the room to try to see something suitable for gauze or a bandage, she noticed that Scott was facing down and something pulled horribly at her stomach that told her he wasn't breathing and he wasn't awake. "Scott?" her voice almost broke as her hair framed her face, her breathing hitched and her mouth hung open. "Scott?" she called for him one more time before her fingers reached for his neck, trying to find a pulse.
Allison paled when she couldn't feel a pulse.
So, with a flick of the wrist and a change in positions, Allison was on top of Scott, her hands planted firmly on his chest in an effort to resuscitate him. However, a part of Allison wanted to just stop, to let Scott die because he's been through so much and she always knew that death was relatively peaceful; it was the transition that was troublesome. She's been through a lot, to say the least, but what she's gone through would probably pale in comparison as to what Scott's probably experienced.
But the thoughts flickered away when she saw Scott's blank face and realized she couldn't bare to see the boy she loves being lowered six feet under the ground. Allison knew that she wouldn't be able to stand the hurt that would appear in Stiles' face when he finds out that his best friend, his brother, has died because she gave up.
So, Allison continued to try re-start Scott's heart. "Come on, Scott, haven't you heard? You've got yourself a date with Kira and her family?" stopping to check and see if there was a pulse, Allison grimaced when she felt nothing. "You like her, don't you?" it felt weird for her to say that out loud, to admit to herself that Scott had begun to like another girl besides her. "Well, you have a date tonight, you sure you want to pass on that?" Allison checked again for a heart beat but there was nothing when suddenly, Scott sat up, gasping for air.
Allison stepped back, giving Scott some space and air, watching his pale face reflect the light with a thin sheet of sweat covering him. His face was still abnormally pale. "No. Not Kira. Don't want to hurt her," Allison raised her brow at Scott and wondered how in the world he would come to hurt the woman he would eventually move on with.
Allison remembered the time she eavesdropped on Scott and her father's conversation and overheard that everything he's ever done was to make sure she was safe because he loved her so she began to wonder, if Scott loved this girl, why would he be afraid of hurting her?
"But Kira's your new anchor, you could never hurt her, remember?" Allison tilted her head on a side, smiling, trying to get him to remember that he's never hurt her. At least not intentionally.
Scott shook his head. "No. Derek said that whatever kind of bond I have with her isn't right, that maybe it's the side effects from the Nemeton talking or something and maybe, he's right." Scott pointed at the wall behind her. Only then did Allison notice the blood spread on the wall, the writing seemingly clear now. "Peter said that those are atomic numbers, that it spelled out Kira. What if I'm going to hurt her?" the broken look in his eyes tugged on Allison's heart.
Maybe it was, and maybe it wasn't.
Allison and Scott, they took too much labels and they stopped for so many. "What if numbers are just numbers?" she sat up straight and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe, Scott, it doesn't mean anything." Scott stared at her, confused, but she gave a tight smile. "Listen, Scott, you like her, don't you? You wouldn't ever want to hurt her?"
Scott shook his head quickly. "No. Of course not. I just want to get to know her." A part of Allison was thankful that Scott didn't say the L word.
"So, how about I get you to that date?" Allison offered, helping Scott up to his feet.
Scoot groaned, probably from the pain and maybe from something else. "Derek's got me on lockdown. I won't be getting out anytime soon, especially not anywhere near Kira after Peter got him so riled up."
Allison helped Scott to the bed before she pushed the dresser away from the door. "How about this: I'll get Stiles to help you escape but you'll have to meet me in the woods tonight before you go on your, er, date with Kira." Allison offered her hand when she finished pushing the dresser away, whispering it low to make sure that the other werewolves inside the loft wouldn't hear her.
Scott looked skeptical. "What if I lose control? Kira's not my anchor. I have nothing to keep me grounded to humanity, nothing to keep me from hurting her and her family." That was when Allison remembered what she had brought to the loft with her.
As her eyes scanned the room, Allison found the small velvet box. "What if I told you that you could anchor yourself instead?" Scott raised a brow before she opened the box and showed the watch.
"I thought I lost this when. . ." Scott trailed off, a small smile finally appearing on his face. "This is what you took from Deaton the other day, wasn't it?" Allison shrugged and handed the velvet box to Scott, watching him as she slipped it on. Offering his hand to her, Scott smiled his usual cheeky grin. "Deal."
So, haven't updated in a long time and I probably won't be updating soon either because today is my last day of freedom. Yeah. I'm going back to school.
So, this chapter may not seem much—it's horrible, I know—but this chapter will be pretty important plot-wise so keep an eye on some of the particular details here.
And, since I won't be updating in a while, I figured that I have to give you something in exchange for that. A sneak peek's a fair trade, is it not? Well, there you have it. This particular chapter will be Allison centric and um, to all the Scallison shippers, this is basically it:
The music was blaring and the paint was distracting but Allison only had her eyes on the man in front of her. It was like they had their own little world and that they were alone. No one else but them. "Why. But Kira is your anchor, I mean, being with her makes you in control of your wer—" Allison was promptly cut off with Scott's lips planted on her own.
"When will you understand that I will put you first?" Allison could only stare at Scott, not knowing that a tear streamed through her cheek until he wiped it with his thumb. "This is the last time I'm ever going to let you cry," and yet another tear fell from her eyes as she looked away despite Scott's hands cupping her face.
"But why—"
Allison was cut off again, this time when Scott gently turned her face to his. "Because it's you. It's always been you. I love you, Allison. Allison Argent, and I will love you until," he paused, looking at her eyes, seemingly lost. "Until. . .the end of my days." His voice grew firm as doubt was erased from his tone. "Until the end of time. Always."