28; Absence

When Chris Argent stumbled upon the scene of his daughter's death the teens held their breath waiting to see how the fierce hunter would break. His knowing eyes glimpsed between them searching for answers, but he found everything he needed to know in Scott's arms.

A grimace contorted his features relaying everything he was feeling until it was whisked away by an expression of nothing. El could only watch as he took her in his arms and held her to his chest. He had been only minutes too late from possibly saving her and in El's case only seconds.

Reluctance showed in his tense muscles as he laid her back down. Her head rolled to the side and her inky hair fell over her face. Argent breathed out a loud shaky sigh and backed away from his daughter. His eyes darted around the area as he distracted himself with creating a story for how this had happened.

El barely contained her tears as he lowered himself beside her and drilled five simple words into her mind: it all happened so fast.

"There can't be any room for questions," he said and placed a hand on her shoulder to try and provide what little comfort he could. She felt selfish for crying in front of him when he hadn't even shed a tear. Shouldn't it have been him seeking the consolation?

"How do you do it?" she uttered through hiccups. "Tell me how to make it stop hurting."

His silvery eyes drifted and didn't return to her as he spoke again. "Let's go over it again. What do you say?"

Her tongue flicked out against her dry lips, "I was in the backseat. They tried to steal the car. I-I couldn't see their face. I saw something shiny and sharp then-" she paused, "I don't know- I didn't get a good look. It happened so fast."

He nodded, satisfied with her response. He stood from his crouch and glanced blankly at Isaac who cowered in her tight embrace. El shook her head pleadingly, he didn't need to hear it. "He knows what to do," she whispered and her heart ached for her friend.

Argent looked away and sighed in resignation. "I don't," he murmured, words he spoke only to himself, and walked away.

"Where is she?" A red-faced Lydia wept as she appeared from the shadowy tunnels. Her eyes scanned the group until they found who she was searching for laying motionless on the floor. She took an involuntary step back as if someone had punched her right in the stomach.

Arms balanced her from behind and she leaned into the bony embrace for support.

El winced as the banshee cried reaching for Allison. Stiles pulled her away, "Lydia, you shouldn't touch her," he murmured just loud enough for her to hear. His gaze stayed trained on her not allowing it to stray to yet another person who was dead because of him.

"She wasn't supposed to be here," she whimpered and sank to her knees. Her cries rooted deep into all of them as the banshee mourned a death.

Kira, appearing from behind them, placed a hand on Stiles's shoulder beckoning him to stand. "The police are on their way. You should come with me," she told him and he briefly looked up at her before looking back to his grieving friends. How could he leave them to suffer when he was the cause of it all?

"You should go," Scott remarked in a tone lacking the usual warmth and determination he always spoke with. All eyes went to him, save Isaac, who tried to shield himself from the world in El's arms.

The alpha's head hung low in defeat. What once were lively and kind eyes were now dull and desolate as he beheld them sadly. He didn't spare El a glance as he quickly skimmed past her and went straight to Stiles. She tried desperately not to feel hurt by the simple action but the pain tugged directly at her heart.

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