Only Fools Tread Where Angels Fear To Go
Summary: "Careful of which wolf you feed, Argent." Allison is determined to get it right this time. After all, Fortuna favors the bold and she's not going to waste her second chance.
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf. None of this belongs to me.
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Chapter 2: Diving In
"Pearls don't live on the seashore. If you want one, you must dive for it."-Chinese Proverb
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The pull of her muscles as she pulled the string back and the dull clank as the arrow hit the makeshift target was as familiar as breathing.
Weight dropped off her shoulders as the world ceased to exist. All she could see was the row of cans lined up on the log as she shot methodically, falling into an easy rhythm.
Allison only lowered her bow when her quiver was empty.
The ding of her phone made her pull it out, checking her messages.
Do you have plans today?-ER
Allison cocked an eyebrow, surprised at the unexpected text.
Nothing that can't be left for another day. Whatcha need?-AA
Do you maybe wanna come over and work on our project? My mom made cookies.-ER
Deal. You had me at cookies. I'll head over around 3 if that's okay?-AA
Great! See you later!-ER
Tucking away her phone, Allison started the trek back to her car.
It'd been barely two days since she came back, and she was already teetering on the verge of homicide. The house was suffocating with her mother's constant monitoring and her father's absentminded smile, the air thick with the weight of the secrets that hung around the family.
Her skin was crawling restlessly, and Allison had finally excused herself, claiming she was going to practice with her bow in the Preserve. Her Dad had been pleasantly surprised when she'd dug it up out of the garage. She didn't have to make up an excuse or a lie because he had one for her. He thought she was truly settling into their new home, picking up a hobby she'd cast aside a while ago.
Reliving high school again was a pain. The normalcy of it all had been ruined for her a long time ago but she soldiered on, knowing she had a lot of ground to cover.
Allison had started reaching out, making friends and allies. Her friendship with Lydia was somehow easier than before. The strawberry blonde goddess had a rough, unapproachable attitude, but Allison was already aware of the unwavering love and fierce loyalty that she possessed underneath it all.
By association, Allison had begun a tentative friendship with Danny and Jackson. Jackson was irritable and arrogant, but he had a dry sense of humor that she liked while Danny was an all-around nice guy, friendly and easygoing.
The friendship with Derek's supposed betas was harder. Every inch was hard fought. While Erica was a ball of sass and sunshine that agreed easily to hang out, Boyd was more solitary, and Isaac was distrustful of everyone at the moment.
It wasn't much but the seeds had been planted. Allison hoped they only grew.
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"Good morning, Mrs. McCall," Allison greeted the woman fondly with a warm smile, smoothing the wrinkles in her new light blue scrubs.
After some thought, she'd applied for a part time job at the hospital. Mostly, it was changing bedpans, switching out the bed sheets, all the things that needed to be done for the room to be cleaned and prepared for the next patient.
Surprisingly, Allison enjoyed the routine as she worked quickly and efficiently to prepare the rooms for the next incoming patient.
Working with Melissa, however, was an unexpected challenge.
The woman was just as compassionate as before, noticing the little mistakes Allison made and correcting them firmly but kindly.
She enjoyed the challenge, adapting to every piece of constructive criticism.
Working at the hospital wasn't just something she did for fun though.
Her goal for infiltrating the hospital was to figure out just how far Jennifer Hartman, Peter's nurse, was involved with what was going on.
The redhead was eerily familiar to Allison, as if she'd seen her before, but she couldn't pinpoint it.
Searching the employee records on the computer, courtesy of Melissa's borrowed hospital ID card, she found several pieces of concerning information.
Jennifer Hartman started working at the hospital just two weeks before the Hale fire. Before that, the information in her file was minimal.
A rented apartment in town, an address she scrawled down to check out later, and the regular schedule for her patients, which she printed out.
Tucking the slip of paper into her pocket, Allison slipped into the patient records room, where she smuggled out Peter Hale's file to put away in her bag for later reading.
Allison spent her lunch break outside in her car, snacking on a yogurt as she studied Peter's file open on her lap.
The damage to the werewolf's body was severe. What was even more alarming was how little the man had healed. Werewolves had an overwhelming healing ability, able to heal almost anything.
Peter should have been able to recover from the fire within a month, at the latest. The fact that he had spent six years in a comatose state and still wasn't completely healed sent alarm bells ringing.
Allison checked the medicine Jennifer was giving him, but it was a regular dose of morphine and saline. That didn't add up.
At worst, it'd make Peter drowsy, not the utterly insane and manic man who had chased a group of teenagers through the high school in the dead of night to gain a beta.
There was a growing suspicion in the back of Allison's mind, but she needed proof to confirm it.
For the moment, Allison had other priorities. It was the first night of the full moon.
Unlike Before, she'd accepted Lydia's invitation to the party and the accompanying date with Bryan, Lydia's choice of lacrosse player for the night.
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Bryan was pretty with light blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes. He was nice, sweet, and respectably kept his hands on her back instead of having them any lower.
God help her, Allison was bored out of her mind.
There was no spark, nothing interesting that drew her to him.
He was pretty, that was about it.
She managed to dance a few songs with him before making her escape, saying she needed to use the bathroom and then she needed to head home.
He was polite about it, accepting her excuses without a problem as he meandered his way over to a group of fellow lacrosse players.
"Hey Allison!"
At the call of her name as she was moving towards the stairs, Allison's eyes flickered around before latching onto Stiles, surrounded by a group of people she didn't know. He was waving at her, smiling that particularly relieved smile that said she wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the company.
"Hey Stiles," she smiled and headed over to him. "How's it going?"
"You know, it's uh...it's going," he answered, pausing as his eyes caught on something behind her. "Scott? Scott, are you okay?"
Turning, Allison saw Scott staggering through the crowd, aiming for the exit. Sweat glistened on his face, eyes holding a golden tinge as the wolf shone through. Tension built in her as she watched Stiles make his excuses and follow after him.
Deciding that was enough for tonight, Allison grabbed her stuff and headed towards the address she'd kept for Jennifer's apartment. If her hunch was right, Jennifer would be occupied with Peter and wouldn't be home till the next day.
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Picking the lock on the apartment door was easy and Jennifer wasn't home, as she'd suspected.
Allison swept through the bare apartment, searching for anything that stood out to her.
There were articles, tucked away in an old leatherbound bible. Allison reflected over the irony of that as she read through them, snapping pictures of it all with her phone. The articles were from years past, ranging from the eighteen hundreds to the eighties. An article on Eichen House caught her eye and she knew she'd have to look further into that. That was where Stiles had been kept while he was possessed by the dark kitsune.
Further inspection revealed the duffle bag under Jennifer's bed. It was filled with hunter supplies, such as case of mistletoe bullets and a hand-carved wooden box of syringes, each filled with a rather nasty looking yellow fluid. She knew of yellow mistletoe, of how it was even more dangerous than the purple strand. Perhaps that was the reason for Peter's delayed healing.
Snapping pictures of everything she found, Allison slipped out of the apartment and headed home for the night, intent on research.
Once she was home, she took a brief shower and threw on some pjs, pulling her hair up in a messy bun, before settling on her bed comfortably. She fished out one of the flash drives she'd bought, plugging it into her laptop and pulling up a fresh Word document.
The first pictures on her phone were a copy of the Hale fire file, including the arson report, the official police report, and the witness statements recorded that night. Witness statements taken by Laura and Derek Hale, the only two coherent survivors of the fire.
Laura was nineteen, Derek sixteen, when the fire happened.
Seeing the recounts of that horrible night, Allison couldn't stop the disgust and hatred welling up in her stomach towards her aunt.
It was despicable what Kate had done. From what she'd experienced of Gerard, Allison had a feeling he was involved in the fire as well.
"Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes," Allison recited quietly, calming herself.
We protect those who cannot protect themselves.
The Argent Clan would be entering a new era under her leadership. One where people were not hunted just because they weren't human.
Taking a deep breath, her resolve freshly renewed, Allison started rebuilding the Argent Bestiary from what she remembered. It was more than she was expecting, though it made sense considering the nights and days she spent pouring over it.
Kate was the first obstacle. Before, her aunt had left hints to tip her off, to make her curious enough to figure it out. She'd wanted Allison to know about hunting. It was the women of the family, after all, that were the leaders. The men were the soldiers.
The next obstacle would be her mother. It was possible she could wrestle control for herself. After all, she was an Argent by blood while her mother was an Argent by marriage only. That was a possibility she'd need to look into.
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"Hey Allison," Stiles popped up by her locker, for once without Scott by his side.
"Hi Stiles," she returned, closing her locker. She turned to face them, pushing her backpack strap higher on her shoulder. "What can I do for you?"
"I just wanted to see if that offer of running together was still on the table?"
"Yeah," she smiled, relieved that he was taking her up on her offer. "I go in the mornings before school and the afternoons after school if you still want to join."
"Whoa, twice in one day? You really like to keep yourself busy huh?"
"I don't do relaxing well," she admitted truthfully, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "I've done archery and gymnastics since I was little, so I'm just used to being very active."
"Sounds like we can help each other out then," Stiles shuffled his feet, full of nervous energy. "Maybe we can hang out sometimes, get you used to the town and loosen up a little. And you'll significantly improve my chances of getting off the bench in lacrosse by running with me."
Allison's smile widened, finding the way he couldn't stand still endearing. "Yeah, that sounds good."
