For Beacon Hills, the next few weeks were positively normal.

Jackson returned to school to be the center of attention. Even death hadn't changed his public persona all that much. He swaggered around the hall with Danny, bragging about the lacrosse game he hadn't even been mentally present for, and made out with Lydia in the hallways. The two of them were together again, hopefully for good this time. They'd both been through enough over the last few months.

Isaac was back in class too. After everything that had happened, no one at school seemed too bothered to look into Isaac's claim that he had moved in with his "sort of estranged uncle," whom I assume had been played by Peter. They'd only asked enough questions to ensure that Isaac was safe-ish, had a bed, and enough money that he wouldn't need to enroll in the lunch welfare program. Beyond that, the administration didn't care.

And after weeks of studying, we'd all made it through our finals unscathed. Lydia was still top of the class, not that anyone was surprised. Even being possessed by a werewolf wasn't enough to dampen her IQ. Scott had gotten through most of his tests, too. He'd have to take a few classes in summer school, but he'd just been thankful he wasn't being held back. At the very least, we'd all gotten through alive. That was more than we'd dared to hope for a month ago.

Not everything was normal, of course. There had been an absolute uproar when Jackson turned up completely unscathed and very much not dead. His parents had been equally relieved and outraged, and ever since, they'd been waging a war on the county hospital. There was a rumor going around that everyone on staff was going back to medical school, forced to take classes to distinguish cadavers from living patients. However, Mrs. McCall still had a job, so we were pretty sure that wasn't true.

While Jackson wasn't acting that different on the surface, there were subtle differences. He didn't snap at people as much as he used to, and he had an unnaturally tight cap on his temper. It helped that he'd been spending a lot of time with Derek and Scott. His time as the kanima had changed his mind about the necessity of having a pack. It was important to have people who could keep you in line, help you learn, and bail you out when you were in over your head. Scott, and then a very grudging Derek, had agreed to help him learn how to control himself. One mistake, and his new powers might overwhelm him. I think that was something Jackson feared even more than the rest of us.

We still hadn't heard from Erica and Boyd. I wanted to believe that they had made it out after Mr. Argent had freed them from his basement, but they still hadn't checked in. Isaac hadn't been able to get ahold of either of them, and it was difficult not to get worried.

It was also proving difficult not to worry about Gerard. Scott had explained everything that happened in the warehouse in gruesome detail, right up to the part where Gerard vomited a geyser of black blood and collapsed on the ground. Still, no one had been able to find him. The school board was scrambling, trying to replace their second principal in a year. And since no magical cover story had come to explain the disappearance, we could only assume that the Argents were scrambling too. No one had heard anything from any of them.

Well, almost.

I wasn't sure how long I was planning on avoiding it. I wasn't sure how long I could avoid it, even if I wanted to. Eventually, reality caught up to me anyway.

I answered the front door, not entirely surprised to find Allison standing on the other side. She was playing with her fingers, staring up at me through her lashes.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"I'm sorry, I—I should have called to let you know I wanted to stop by. I kept trying to write a text, but I didn't know…" Allison bit her lip. "Can I come in?"

I debated for a moment before stepping aside. Allison gingerly stepped through the doorway, as if the floor beneath her was about to collapse at any moment. I closed the front door behind her and she jumped at the sound, turning to face me.

"What's up?" I asked, casually as I could.

Normally, she would have laughed at that—such a simple question for such a complicated situation—but she didn't. Instead of putting her at ease, my tone seemed to dishearten her. She frowned.

"I wanted to talk to you. Is…um, where is everyone?"

"Natalie's at work, Mom's out grocery shopping, and Lydia's out with Jackson again."

"Oh, yeah, that's—that's good. They're together again, right?"

"Yeah. It's been nice."

There was another awkward silence, and suddenly, the words began to pour out of Allison's mouth like rapids.

"Sadie, I am so sorry for everything I've done over the last few weeks. Over the last few months, really. I want to say that Gerard was manipulating me, like Kate was, but I know that's not good enough. I don't want to make excuses. I've—I've been a really terrible friend to you, and I completely understand if you don't want to forgive me. I got so caught up in my mom's death that…all I wanted to do was make it all go away. I thought that killing Derek would do that. And I was so focused on revenge that I—I completely forgot that the one person who really knew what I was going through was my best friend. I never should have blamed you for what happened, any of it. I know that—that if you'd known what was going to happen, you would have told me. You wouldn't lie about something like that. And I'm sorry for saying that you would."

I nodded, shifting uncomfortably. "Well…thanks."

I knew they weren't they weren't the words she wanted to hear, but it was hard to say anything else. This was the closest I had been to Allison since she'd attacked me, since she'd pinned me against the wall and held an arrow to my throat. I didn't feel like I was in danger now, but still…that wasn't something that was going to be easy to forget.

There was another question weighing on my mind, heavier than the one she'd addressed, but I didn't know how to go about asking it. I didn't know if she'd known about Gerard's plan for Stiles. I didn't know if she'd known about Gerard's plan for me. Clearly he hadn't been one for family tradition, but the women of the Argents were supposed to be the decision makers. Someone had told Gerard what I'd done to Kate, and the list of suspects wasn't long.

It was as if Allison could read my mind.

"Scott told me what happened to Stiles. I know that…my word probably doesn't count for a lot right now, but—but I swear I didn't know, Sadie. When Gerard said that he was going to convince Scott to talk, I didn't—I never would have gone if I'd known what he was going to do. And I swear, I never told him anything about Kate. I don't know how he could have found out. I don't know if it was my parents, or—or one of the hunters that helped with the cover story, but…however angry I was at you, I wouldn't have risked that. I would never give you up."

I nodded, unable to meet her eye. I wanted to ask if that was supposed to make me feel better, that she would have preferred to kill me herself instead of handing me off to Gerard, but I couldn't find the energy. Allison had done some terrible things, but she hadn't lied to me. I didn't think she was lying now. I wasn't sure if she deserved it, but I was going to give her the benefit of the doubt.

It seemed Allison hadn't expected me to answer. She nodded firmly to herself, still wringing her hands in front of her.

"Is there anything I can do…?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I think it might just be a time thing. I mean, you could start by apologizing to Isaac."

"I…I don't know if I'll be able to do that."

I blinked at her in surprise. "You don't know if you can apologize to him for slicing and dicing him like a turkey?"

"No, not like that. It's not because I don't want to, it's just…my dad and I—we're leaving."

"What? No!"

Allison looked up quickly, just as surprised as I was. The second word had come out as naturally as the first. They couldn't leave. Allison couldn't leave.

"Yeah," she said tentatively. "After everything that's happened, we thought it might be best to just…get away from it all. He wants to go to France. He's really been thinking about the whole hunter thing. I think he's looking for some kind of answers about our family, so…we're leaving in a few days."

"But…you're coming back, right?"

She pressed her lips into a small, sad smile. "I don't know. I sort of thought no one would mind."

"You thought Scott wouldn't mind if the love of his life moved to Europe?"

"I already talked to Scott. I can't be with him when I'm like this. I told him about France, and…we broke up."

"Okay, then—then forget Scott! What about the rest of us? What about Lydia? What about…Beacon Hills?"

"Sadie, my mom killed herself in my room…sitting there, in my bed. I…I can't stay there anymore."

My heart sank. This had not been the way I'd been expecting this conversation to go, though why I hadn't seen it coming was a mystery. Allison had lost her aunt, her mother, and now her grandfather, twisted as he might have been. For a while, she'd lost herself. And what was there left to do when that much was taken from you? Derek and Laura had gone to New York. I had come to Beacon Hills. Now Allison was leaving too. I couldn't relate to everything she was going through, but wanting to escape the memories was something I could definitely understand.

"Look," I started softly, taking a small step toward her. "I know how hard it can be. I lost a lot when my dad died—a lot more than just my dad. I didn't know how to talk to my mom for a while, and I lost a whole lot of my friends for a whole lot of reasons. Then I moved to Beacon Hills and I lost my home. My mom and I thought that moving would help us get away from everything, but…all it really meant was starting over from scratch, and not having my dad there to help us. So if you want to move out of your house, I get that. If you…want to go to France and stay there, I get that. That's your decision to make as a family. But I don't want you to lose your friends. And I don't want to lose you, Ally."

She sniffled, giving me a very shaky smile. "Is it okay if I hug you now?"

"Yeah. Come here."

Allison ran for me, and in a matter of seconds, we were squeezing the life out of each other. We were both holding back tears, both failing pretty bad. It wasn't for any one reason. It felt like one part "I miss her," one part "I've missed you," and one part "I'm going to miss you." Whatever we were feeling, we were a mess. It took a few minutes to get it all out. When we finally stepped back from each other, it was with weak giggles and wiped eyes.

"I'm sorry," Allison said again, shaking her head. "I just wanted to stop by and let you know what was going on. I didn't mean for it to be this big thing."

"Allison, you're one of my best friends. Of course it was gonna be this big thing."

"Yeah, I—I know I was being stupid, but—"

"No, I'm not saying you're being stupid. I just mean…I still care about you. No matter what."

She grinned. "I was trying to pack, but I just couldn't manage to get anything done. I needed to come see you first."

"I'm glad you did. And listen, if there's anything you and your dad need help with, let us know. Mom keeps asking me to remind you that she's here for you guys, just as much as I am."

"Well, maybe not just as much," Allison said with a wink, "but I'll definitely let you know. Maybe we can get lunch before I go? You, Lydia and I?"

"Yeah. I'd like that." I hugged her again and walked her out to the porch. "Thanks for coming by."

"Anytime."

We stood there for a moment, but made a silent, mutual decision not to say that one word. We were going to see each other again. Allison wouldn't be in France for the rest of her life. Even if she moved there, she would visit, or we would visit, or we'd all go somewhere in between. This wouldn't be goodbye.

Allison climbed into her car, waving as she pulled out of the driveway and up the street. I hadn't realized how heavy I'd still felt until she felt. Now that the air was cleared between us, the weight had been removed. Everything wasn't perfect, but it was certainly better.

I made it about halfway upstairs before my phone went off in my pocket.

"Just around the corner. Waiting out front."

Typical. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my backpack and tucking my phone in the pocket of Stiles's lacrosse sweatshirt. I'd hardly taken it off since Stiles had given it to me. Even if it was something of a bribe for forgiveness, the cliché romance wasn't lost on me. I liked wearing my boyfriend's sweatshirt, and being able to say that it was mine…even if I had about four others stashed in my room.

By the time I'd finished lacing up my sneakers, the blue Jeep was parked at the end of my driveway. Scott jumped out of the passenger seat, taking my bag and holding the door open for me. I smirked as I climbed past him.

"You two are late."

"No, we are not late," Stiles contested. "We were waiting. Scott could hear you talking to Allison."

I glared at Scott as he climbed back into the car. He passed me my bag with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

"Will you ever stop eavesdropping on my conversations?"

"Hey, I wasn't eavesdropping. Just because I knew she was there doesn't mean I was listening in. I know how to tune you out."

Stiles kicked the Jeep back into gear, glancing at my skeptical face in the rearview mirror. "So? How'd it go?"

"It could have been worse. She apologized and…I've really missed her."

"We all have," Scott agreed.

I glared at the back of his head. "Yeah, well we all haven't known about her moving to France in a couple days."

"Hold on, she's doing what now?" Stiles asked, nearly turning all the way around in his seat.

Scott actually lifted his arms over his head to shield himself. "I'm sorry! She asked me not to say anything until she had the chance to apologize to you!"

"Yeah, and the only reason she had to apologize to me was because she jumped to conclusions after you asked me not to tell her the truth about her mom!"

"Well didn't she ask you not to tell me the truth about Matt?"

"Yes, she did. Which I was also mad about."

"And then, you guys didn't tell me about Peter."

"You were dealing with your mom. There wasn't a good time to talk about it."

"There's never a good time to talk about Peter. You should have told me anyway."

"Okay, fine! How about you never telling Stiles and I about your plan to stop Gerard? Which, incidentally, had been going on for months!"

"It was only a back up plan! I wanted to have something as a last resort, just in case he tried to come after you for Kate. I didn't say anything because I knew you weren't gonna like it."

"Which is exactly why you should have told me!"

"Guys!" Stiles interrupted, waving his hands wildly. "Is anyone else bothered by the fact that Allison didn't feel the need to tell me she's moving to another country? I mean, come on. I know I'm not as close to her as you two, but we're all friends, right? I should know about this, right?"

Scott sighed. He turned himself in his seat so he could face me and Stiles fully.

"Look, you're right. This year has been really messed up, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that I have to be better. Life's not gonna stop just because we have other things to worry about. We have to talk to each other more. So no more secrets. If there's a problem, we talk about it—whether it's supernatural or totally normal. Okay?"

Even though I agreed with him, I pouted, avoiding his eye. Scott sighed.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about Allison, and I'm sorry for not telling you about Gerard. And I'm sorry for asking you to keep things from your friends when I knew you didn't want to."

"…I know you are. And I'm sorry for not telling you about Peter, and about how Matt was stalking Allison. You're right. From now on, we'll be better."

Scott smiled, holding up a hand to bump fists with mine. I rolled my eyes, but returned the gesture.

Stiles pouted moodily in the driver's seat. "Am I not included in this pact? Am I even a part of this conversation?"

"You're a part of every conversation," Scott laughed, punching Stiles on the arm. "We're gonna be better, right? You'll talk to me?"

"Ow! Yes, okay, I'll talk to you. It's not like I've got much to hide from you guys anyway…but for real, should I be concerned that Allison hasn't told me about France?"

"I don't think so," I assured him. "Lydia doesn't know yet either."

"So is this a vacation or a life choice?"

"I don't think they know."

Stiles let out a low whistle. He threw a quick glance at Scott, and then my reflection. "Is this not something we're worried about? I mean, I sort of like the idea of Beacon Hills without the hunters, but without Allison…"

"She'll come back," said Scott.

"How do you know?"

"Because this place means a lot to her. We mean a lot to her. Everything's gonna be okay."

Stiles met my eye in the mirror, but I just shrugged. Optimism was Scott McCall's middle name.

We pulled in through the school's back gate, the Jeep bouncing along as we rolled over the grass. Stiles drove directly onto the lacrosse field, right over the painted lines that had faded since the end of the season.

We parked on the smooth grass between the benches and filed out. Stiles offered me a hand to help me down from the Jeep, and kept ahold of it as we walked around to the back hatch.

"So you really think she's gonna come back to you?" he called over to Scott.

"Yeah, I know she is."

"Okay, but how can you know that?"

"I don't know," Scott said earnestly. He tugged out his lacrosse bag, then stacked Stiles's equipment on top of it with ease. "How did you know that Sadie was gonna come around after Lydia got out of the hospital?"

"Um, because she told me that she was gonna come around after Lydia got out of the hospital."

"She could have changed her mind."

"Please," Stiles scoffed, pulling out a large blanket and locking the trunk shut. "Sadie and I are inevitable."

"Please don't make third wheeling any harder than it needs to be."

I snorted at Scott's grimace and pulled the blanket out of Stiles's hands. "Hey, I'm the one third wheeling today. You two just do your lacrosse thing, I'll do my reading thing, and we'll get along fine."

I headed back to the front of the Jeep, dropping my backpack so I could spread the blanket over the top of Roscoe's hood. Before I could, Stiles snatched the blanket out of my hands to do it himself. He straightened out the corners with a flourish, then offered his hand and sunk into a deep bow.

"M'lady."

"Gross."

I laughed, but accepted his help as I climbed up onto the Jeep. Stiles handed me my backpack, then pulled a brown paper bag from behind his back. He dropped it next to me in an overly casual way, where it landed with a very pointed thunk.

I raised an eyebrow. "And this is…?"

"Oh, this? I don't know. What could this be?" Stiles opened the bag and began pulling the items out one at a time. "Wow, look! It's your favorite iced tea, and a bag of your favorite chips, and—oh! There's even some chocolate chip cookies. Damn. It looks like you are all set then."

I sighed, closing my eyes for just a single moment of peace. "Stiles. You have to stop doing this."

"Doing what? Giving my girlfriend things she loves because I want to show her that I love her? What's wrong with that? Why is that a bad thing?"

I gave him a short, unimpressed look. Stiles sagged.

"Okay, so I'm still trying to fix everything that I screwed up. I'm just trying to show you that I'm here for you, one hundred percent, whatever you need. I just want to prove that I'm sorry."

"Stiles, I know that you're sorry, but this isn't how you fix it. You can't bribe me off with cookies and potato chips. It's just gonna take time."

"I know," Stiles sighed, leaning his elbows on the Jeep's hood. "I was a dick. And I was being stupid, and selfish, and—"

"And scared," I finished pointedly. "Stiles, you had just been tortured by a trained assassin. And that part was my fault."

"It wasn't your fault," he said stubbornly. He pulled the collar of his shirt aside, showing me the smooth expanse of skin over his shoulder. "Besides, you can barely even see it anymore. Deaton's magic tea worked like a charm."

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened. I know we'd come close before, but that was the first time one of us really got hurt. I just—I don't want our relationship to turn into some twisted Winchester dynamic, you know? You lie to save me and then you get hurt, so I have to lie to save you and then I get hurt. It's just gonna keep building up. We just have to accept that we both know the risks, and we both want to help our friends. That means that we're in this together. It's like Scott said: we have to talk to each other, or this isn't going to work."

"This as in the pack or…this as in us?"

I bit my lip as Stiles looked up at me. "Honestly? Both."

"Yeah," he sighed, sagging once more. "Yeah, I guess I knew that."

"How about this?" I grabbed his arms, pulling him to stand between my knees so I could look at him properly. "This summer, we make it all about us. We figure out who we are as a couple when we're not running around trying to save Beacon Hills from impending doom. We go on a couple normal dates, we make out a bit, we work on actually talking to each other about what's going on in our lives."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, you lost me a bit after the making out…"

I narrowed my eyes and smacked the back of his hand.

"Ow! Okay, yes. I promise. This summer is about you and me, me and you. Us."

"Good. Because I like the sound of us."

I leaned off the front of the Jeep, pulling his face to mind so that I could kiss him. Stiles spread his hands over my knees and slid them up toward my hips. I'd just begun to hum my approval when Scott let out a strangled noise from the lacrosse field.

"Argh! Guys! Come on! Third wheeling, remember?"

Stiles groaned, but I kissed him on the nose. "Go get your lacrosse on. We've got all summer, remember?"

"I know, but what if something else comes to town and tries to kill us before school's back in session? I just want to make sure I make the most of the time I've got."

He kissed me again, running his tongue over my lower lip.

"Stiles!"

"Fine!" he shouted, pulling himself away from me. "Just get in goal and help me make team captain like you promised, okay? God, you're such a mood killer."

I sniggered as I pushed myself back onto the Jeep, leaning back on the windshield and ripping open the bag of chips Stiles had bought me. It might not have been the world's best apology, but I wasn't going to let them go to waste either.

"Hey, you know what I just realized?" Scott asked from his place in front of the goal. "I'm right back where I started."

"What do you mean?" asked Stiles.

"I mean no lacrosse, no popularity, no girlfriend. Nothing."

"Dude, you still got me."

Scott grinned. "I had you before."

"Yeah, and you still got me. Okay? So, life fulfilled."

"Very."

"You're so melodramatic, Scott," I called, rolling my eyes. "You're not back where you started. You've got superpowers, you don't have asthma, and you and all your friends have cool, super-secret plans every time there's a full moon. But hey, don't listen to me. Apparently, I don't count."

"Sorry," he amended, still grinning. "I'm really glad I've got you too."

"Thank you."

"Even if it means I have to suffer through you and Stiles making out all the time."

Stiles launched a lacrosse ball at Scott, which flew by about four feet to Scott's right. Scott burst out laughing, and Stiles soured.

"Sure, laugh it up. By the end of this summer, I'm gonna be so good I'm gonne replace you as team captain. Now remember, no wolf powers."

"Got it."

"No, I mean it. No super-fast reflexes, no super-eyesight, no hearing—none of that crap, okay?"

"Okay!" Scott shook his head, beating his lacrosse stick against the goal posts. "Come on!"

Stiles flipped the stick in his hand, weighing the ball in the cradle and lining up the shot. At the last moment, he stopped short. "You promise?"

"Would you just take the shot already?"

I knew what was going to happen before it did. Stiles shook himself off, lined up the shot and, after a deep breath, hurled it toward the goal. This time it flew true, heading straight for the goal. Scott's lacrosse stick whipped out of nowhere. He caught the ball, spun around, and hurled it back at Stiles before any of us could blink. Stiles had to throw himself into the grass to avoid getting hit, squawking in surprise as I cackled.

"I said no wolf powers!"

"What? I didn't do anything!"

The two of them continued to bicker, arguing about what Scott was and was not allowed to do when coaching Stiles, and how Scott was supposed to help Stiles get better if he wasn't allowed to play well. I shook my head and pulled my backpack closer to me.

I knew that Stiles was right about the summer. We didn't have any assurance that some new creature wouldn't come hurtling out of the woods and kill us all on sight, but we were never going to have that kind of assurance. We couldn't let that stop us from living our lives. We had to appreciate every monster-free moment we had and make the most of it. So this summer was going to be about all of us: healing friendships, developing relationships, moving forward in the normal part of our lives. And somehow, I had a feeling that the summer was going to be okay.

I unzipped my backpack, pulling out a pad of sticky notes and a library book. As long as Stiles and Scott were distracted, I was going to get a head start on my summer reading. It was time to delve into Heart of Darkness.

A/N: And that wraps it up for our rewrite of Season 2! If you aren't already, make sure you're following Our Time Now for the next chapters, which will cover the summer between Seasons 2 and 3A—and most importantly—will have brand new chapters for those of you who've been on this crazy ride since the start! I can't promise when I will begin publishing the third official installment, but I can promise that it is in progress and I'm looking forward to sharing it with you all.

Thank you for everything, and Stay Wild.

-Brittney