"This is it?" Elijah asks me as we stand outside my apartment door.
"This is it," I confirm with a sigh. Hesitantly, I knock.
Almost instantly, the door opens to reveal a very worried-looking Chris Argent. "Nylah." He clasps me tightly before he notices Elijah. He frowns.
"Hello, I'm Elijah," Elijah greets, shaking dad's hand.
"Hi, I'm Chris..." His green-blue eyes drift to me inquiringly. "Nylah? What's going on?"
"Dad, we all need to talk," I declare, looking past him pointedly.
"Alright, come in..." He invites us inside and shuts the door. There's a definite, palpable somber atmosphere in the room. "Drinks, anyone?"
"Not for me, thank you," Elijah responds. Elijah and I sit down on a couch, facing dad.
"Me neither." I smile weakly at dad. "Um, dad..." I trail off, not knowing how to word this, "This is going to sound very... peculiar."
I'm acutely aware that my knee is bouncing frantically, but I don't stop it.
I don't know how dad is going to take this news. I don't even know if he's even aware I'm not his biological daughter. I'm afraid of his reaction — I don't want to hurt him. Heck, it's been a whirlwind, lately. I'm still processing all of this, myself.
He glances between the two of us, frowning. "Go on...?"
"Nylah is my daughter," Elijah utters.
Dad gapes at Elijah, incredulous. He's just staring, not saying a word. The seconds are ticking by excruciatingly slowly.
"Dad...?" I inquire worriedly. When there's no response, I shift in my seat, uncomfortable. "Dad? Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry, I thought this man just said you're his daughter?" dad says, unnervingly calm.
***
Once dad gets past the shock of what he's heard — that I'm not his daughter, that Elijah and I took a paternity test, and that Elijah is a vampire — he reluctantly agrees for Elijah to compel him to remember everything about the night of my birth, because Elijah suspects that Katerina used compulsion to convince mum and dad that I'm their child.
Elijah has informed us that compulsion from an Original will override any other vampire's compulsion.
"Recall everything related to the night of Nylah's birth," Elijah commands dad, looking into his eyes.
Dad's face is suddenly devoid of all expression and emotion.
"I recall that my wife, Victoria, had one baby girl. The nurses took her away and left her in a cot while the doctors performed checkups on Victoria. When we were ready to leave, a dark-haired woman put a baby girl in the same cot as our daughter. She seemed to be in a panic. We asked her what she was doing. All she told us was that we were to name the girl Nylah, and that she's our own. She told us that we were to forget about our conversation, and that she already took care of the doctors and the birth certificates. No one was to know, she said. And then she left."
My mouth is hanging open by the end of his explanation. Elijah looks grim, but not surprised.
"Woah..." dad says, holding his head, "How am I only remembering all this now? And what...?" He looks dazed, concerned, and frustrated.
"Compulsion," Elijah explains, "She did all this because she was on the run from someone."
"Oh, heck. This is too much to take in..." dad utters under his breath, his attention averting to his phone when it starts ringing. He answers the call. "Hey, sweetie."
"Dad? Do you mind fetching me?" Allison's voice says over the phone. Where is she...?
Dad nods. "Okay, I'm on my way."
Inwardly, I sigh. I know I need to end things with Isaac. If Allison and Isaac want to be together, I won't stand in their way, although this hurts me — tears me apart, even — to think about.
"Okay," dad says, "Um. That was Allison. She tagged along with the cross country team because Scott was injured... or something," dad explains.
"Shoot," I say, genuinely concerned.
Dad sighs, crossing his arms in the way he does when he's uncomfortable. "I'm not sure what to say." Leaning forward on the couch slightly, he rubs his hands together and exhales heavily. "Nylah, you will always be my daughter... I need you to know that. I raised you. I love you, regardless of the fact you're not mine, erm, biologically. But if you... if you — um. If you want Elijah to be recognised as your official father, we can fill out the necessary paperwork."
He swallows heavily, pain evident in his eyes. I stand up to hug him. "I love you too, dad," I murmur into the fabric of his shirt, clutching him tightly. "Um, and yes please to the paperwork."
My mind is now made up. I'd like to be formally identified as Nylah Mikaelson rather than Nylah Argent. This doesn't mean the Argents aren't my family — they are, and I love them. But I was taken from the Mikaelsons, and I'd love to be part of their family, too.
I feel terrible for dad, but I can only imagine what Elijah's feeling — he's missed out on so much of my life already.
"Uh — and if you want to move out..." dad murmurs under his breath, "Then... then you can. I understand. Completely." I sense his heart breaking. Oh, poor dad.
"I'm not moving out, dad," I reassure him with a small smile. Instantly, I feel his relief flowing off him. "I'll probably be in between Beacon Hills and Mystic Falls quite a bit..." I look over my shoulder. "If that's alright with you?"
"Of course," Elijah confirms with a pleased smile, still sitting on the couch with an air of authority.
"Well, then... I'll need your contact details," dad says, turning to Elijah, amiable.
Elijah nods. "I'll see to it."
"Okay, well — uh, um, Allison..." dad stutters, gesturing at the door. "I should go. Fetch her, I mean."
"Bye, dad." I smile at him. "Drive safe."
"Goodbye, Nylah. Goodbye, Elijah. It was nice meeting you."
Elijah smiles, stands up, and shakes dad's hand, his other hand gripping his blazer jacket. "And you, Chris."
As dad walks down the corridor, I hear him breathing shakily, trying to make sense of what happened.
***
After a day of walking around Beacon Hills, showing Elijah what I get up to on weekends, where I play sport, where my high school is, where the bookshop is (he also has a deep appreciation for literature, I suppose I get that from him), it's finally time to say goodbye.
Niklaus is already standing by the Porsche, seemingly unhurried and at ease — apparently, he's already met up with the werewolves.
"May I ask a question?" I inquire, addressing Klaus.
Klaus smiles a cheeky smile and taps the side of his nose with his index finger. "Ask no questions and I'll tell no lies," he claims. When he observes my disappointment (something I over-dramatise), he says, "That being said, do ask away."
I grin. "Why did you meet up with the alpha pack?"
"Ah." Elijah and Klaus share a look. "Hmm, I'm not su—"
"Please."
Klaus sighs. "In return for them finding a girl we now know to be you, Nylah, I promised I'd turn them into werewolf-vampire hybrids."
"Hybrids?" I repeat, shocked. "No way is that a thing?!!"
Klaus smirks. "You're looking at the original hybrid, love."
I gape at him, even more shocked. "Woah, what...?" I frown. I swallow heavily, dreading that the alpha pack has yet more power now. "So... how did it go?"
"I didn't turn them."
"You didn't turn them?!" I inquire, now thoroughly confused. Elijah looks as though he knows this already, and is just standing there silently, his one hand tucked neatly in his trouser pocket.
"No, don't be silly," Klaus responds with a grin, "I have a niece living here... why would I put her in danger?" Smiling to himself, he glances around, surveying the now-empty school. "And besides, they weren't that nice."
I laugh at his take on things. "So you weren't planning on turning them in the first place?"
"Oh, I was," he claims. "But that was before I knew for certain that you were a Mikaelson... and before I found out they're living in the same town as you." He shrugs. "So I just compelled the lot of them to forget they ever interacted with us, and to not pose a threat to you."
"Thank you," I utter with a smile, entirely grateful. He's thought all of this through so well.
"Well, I suppose this is goodbye for now, mini Mikaelson," Klaus says, running a hand through his slightly curly, ginger-blonde hair. "If you don't come back to visit soon, I will kidnap you. You've officially been warned."
"So essentially, you've just given me all the more incentive to lock my doors," I tease.
He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, suppressing a smirk. "Definitely a Mikaelson," he remarks.
I turn to Elijah. "Thank you for all of... this. And for searching for me."
"My pleasure, Nylah." Elijah smiles. "Please come anytime. We'll never be too busy for you."
I watch with a fond smile as they drive off.
I glance down at my recently-obtained phone, seeing 250+ messages in just three days. I decide to just switch it off — I'm exhausted and need time alone to process.
***
There's a knock on my door. I take a deep breath and open it, already knowing who's standing there. My sister toys with the ends of her sleeves uncertainly, biting her lip. She steps forward, getting ready to hug me, before halting, hesitant of what my boundaries are at the moment.
"Nylah, I'm so glad you're okay," she claims, relieved.
I give her a tight smile, still extremely hurt — but not hurt enough to not hug my sister. I step forward and embrace her tightly. Her thin, tall frame relaxes into my arms.
Something crinkles between us. Before I get the opportunity to ask her what she has in her pocket, she speaks.
"Teddy, I'm so, so sorry for what I've put you through. That was so incredibly shitty of me," she declares tearfully. "I understand if you hate me, or don't want to talk to me, or anything — and that's completely justified — but you must know that I really, really am sorry. I don't know why I did it. I don't know why he did it. It just... happened. And he feels guilty too."
My heart twinges at the mention of what they both did and a lump gets stuck in my throat. I swallow arduously, but it doesn't go away.
"It's fine, Allison," I say, leaning against my doorframe and crossing my legs, "It's fine. If anything, you two did me a favour."
"...how so?" she inquires, her guard up.
"He wasn't the right person for me if he cheated." I sigh. "That being said, it still hurts."
"I know." Her eyes fall to her feet. "I'm sorry."
"If you want to be with him..." I trail off, watching her bewildered expression with interest, "Then do it. I won't stand in your way. I need to talk to him first, though."
"Nylah, that's not—"
"Yes." I sigh. "Yes it is, Allison." I look into her inquisitive, disbelieving doe brown eyes. "I can sense everyone's emotions, you know."
"You — you can?!" she whisper-exclaims, still in shock.
"Yeah." My lips form a rigid, thin line so they don't get the chance to tremble. "So I know what's going on."
"Teddy, I-"
"It's okay." I chew the inside of my mouth. "I think the time away did me some good, I was able to calm down about this whole thing."
"Yeah... about that..." she utters, looking at me with even more shock, "Dad says that you're not— you aren't... I mean..."
"Yeah. Let's talk," I suggest, gesturing to my bed. She pulls out a bag of apple rings from her hoodie pocket, our favourite snack as children, and shares them with me. "Oh," I say with a fond smile.
I fill her in on everything: how the alpha pack kidnapped me (which was why my stuff was in the hallway); vampires; the Mikaelsons; Mystic Falls; my encounter with "ordinary vampires", Stefan and Damon; the deal that Klaus originally formed with the alpha pack before breaking it off; how Katerina compelled Chris and Victoria to believe I was theirs; so on, and so on.
She fills me in on everything that happened on the cross-country trip: how Scott almost died from his wounds — he didn't heal because he felt guilty about not being able to save Derek the night before (we now know he's alive, however, which is great news), how they stayed in a dodgy hotel which drove the werewolves crazy and almost forced them to commit suicide, and how Lydia predicted it all.
"Bloody hell," I remark after her story is finished. "So Lydia definitely is something?"
Allison nods, grim. We sit in silence for a couple of seconds before she stands up. "Goodnight, Teddy. I love you." She smiles softly at me before it falters. "I'm really sorry for being a shitty sister... and a shitty person in general." She swallows arduously. "I know I've been self-obsessed lately, and I'm also sorry about that. I really admire your patience, Teds. You're so good to everyone. I swear, I'm going to start making it up to you. I hate that I've hurt you — you're the absolute last person I want to hurt."
By now, tears are sliding down her cheeks.
I stand up, hugging her tightly. Her body trembles slightly. "It's okay, Allie," I whisper, overwhelmed by everything she just confessed. "I love you more than anyone. I've also done wrong by you, and I'm sorry, too."
She squeezes me tighter. "Promise me that we'll come out of this stronger," Allison implores, looking at me through wet eyelashes.
"Yes." I wipe the corners of my eyes with my sleeves. "You're my sister, no matter what. You're my best friend."
"And you're mine — always," she responds, her smile wobbly.
Elijah's words run through my mind. "That's what family does. We forgive each other. We remain together, for better or for worse."
***
"You what?!" Scott and Stiles exclaim simultaneously.
It's the next day, Monday, and we're waiting for our English lesson to start. Ugh, Mondays.
I chuckle. "I don't know if you're more surprised that I got abducted by the alpha pack, that my dad isn't actually my biological father, or that the family I belong to is the original vampire family."
"...try all of it?" Stiles answers, gaping at me in shock. "I mean, we knew something was up, but not something like this."
"Yeah," Scott chips in, scratching the back of his neck, "I really hate to be the bearer of bad news, but bad stuff has also happened to us... so, turns out Derek isn't dead."
"Yeah, Allison already told me," I say with a small smile, "I'm glad to hear it!"
"Yeah... but, um." Scott and Stiles glance at each other. I frown. "At that hotel we stayed at, we were driven out of our mind — the werewolves almost committed suicide, Derek killed Ennis, the alphas killed Boyd, and people are still being sacrificed."
Boyd???????
No.
No.
I slump back into my seat in disbelief, struggling to process. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, w-what? Boyd? And Erica? Both?"
"Both," Scott answers grimly.
My heart sinks. They did not deserve that, they were good people. "Wow, um. Wow. Oh, oh no."
"We know," Stiles says, bitterness underscoring his words.
***
The rest of the day passes in a whirlwind of confusion. I don't know how to cope with so many emotionally-taxing bombs being dropped on me all at once.
So, essentially:
—> Elijah is my father. Katerina is my mother. I belong to a family of vampires. The original vampires.
—> My aunt and mum who died aren't actually my blood relatives, which is still hard to wrap my mind around.
—> Everyone thought Derek died, but he's alive.
—> My friends almost committed group-suicide.
—> Boyd and Erica were killed by the alphas, who also just so happened to kidnap me.
—> I still haven't talked to Isaac, who cheated on me. We're drifting further and further apart, leaving me with the bitter feeling of loss on top of all the grief and confusion I'm experiencing.
—> Allison and Isaac have feelings for each other, which I don't know how to handle. I'm feeling bitter, which I hate.
—> People are still being sacrificed, and no one is any closer to figuring out who the Darach is or what the purpose for these sacrifices is.
***
I end up at the recital to commemorate the loss of the teachers and students from Beacon Hills high school.
I take a seat beside Rodriguez, who smiles at me tiredly as a greeting. I smile back, glancing around. Everyone's compassion, grief, and fear is seeping out of them and into me. I wince as I get hit with the extra emotion.
"You okay?" Rodriguez asks, running a hand through his jet black hair nervously.
"Oh yeah, thanks," I say with a small smile. "...Erica and Boyd were my friends in the short time I knew them."
"I'm sorry." Rodriguez sighs and faces the front, where the orchestra are practicing. "Boyd seemed like a super chilled guy."
"Yeah. He was," I utter quietly. I just wish I got to know them better. That's one of the horrible things about time — you never know how much of it you have left.
The lights dim slightly, and a lady starts playing a haunting tune on the piano. On stage, Danny plays the trumpet alongside other pupils, sombre. Overwhelming sadness hits me from all sides — from the students, the teachers, and from me.
And suddenly, I hear a piercing shriek that assaults my eardrums. Grimacing, I glance around, wondering what on earth is happening. Nearby, Scott and Ethan clutch their ears. The scream goes unheard by everyone else.
It's Lydia.
Wasting no time, I sprint down the space in between the rows of chairs, trying to ignore people's confused stares and whispers. My Converse slam against the plastic-coated floors, squeaking, as I make my way over to the English classroom.
I skid into the classroom, where Lydia is being garrotted by Miss Blake. Frantically, Lydia claws at Miss Blake's hands with her perfect, pink acrylics.
Mr Stilinski is lying on the ground, groaning in pain, with a knife in his chest. Blood pools on his shirt in ample quantities.
Immediately, I sprint up to him and wrench the knife out of his chest, which makes him scream. I toss it at Miss Blake. It lands in her thigh, causing the wire to slip from her hands.
"Nylah Argent..." She grunts as she pulls the knife out of her leg. "It's nice of you to join us."
"Let them go," I instruct, not allowing my voice to waver. I'm nervous, but I'm hiding it. "Please."
Her eyes narrow at me. She takes a step closer.
And then, Scott arrives, fully wolfed-out, which freaks Mr Stilinski out. "Fantastic," I mutter as Miss Blake sends Scott flying across the classroom. As quick as a flash, she shoves a desk against the door to stop Stiles from coming in.
What is even happening anymore? Everything is one giant confusing blur.
"There was a girl — years ago," Mr Stilinski utters, "We found her in the woods, her face and body slashed apart. That was you, wasn't it?"
While she stalks up to Sheriff Stilinski, I quietly untie a sobbing, shaking Lydia, holding a finger up to my lips. Her large hazel eyes silently thank me as she shuffles over to the door. "Maybe I should've started with the philosophers — with knowledge and strategy."
Defensively, Mr Stilinski shoots her twice, which does absolutely nothing to her. Miss Blake tugs him to his feet and rips the badge from his chest.
"Miss Blake!" I yell, looking on in fright as she appears as a mangled, slashed... thing. "I'll be the sacrifice. Leave him. He's all Stiles has left."
"No!" Mr Stilinski shouts, clutching his stab wound as he doubles over in pain. "Nylah, stop talking!"
Stiles pounds on the door, peering through the small, square window. "Hey! Miss Blake!! Hey! Nylah! Dad!" He pounds harder, causing the glass to shake.
"But you're a healer," the Darach rasps, unfazed by the commotion, "I need guardians. Nevertheless..."
With incredible strength, Mr Stilinski and I get dragged away by her. She jumps out of the classroom, shattering the window. And suddenly, I'm helpless. I can't move or do anything in her grasp. It's like I'm paralysed for some strange reason.
She just drags us to some creepy location in the ominous forest, the sheer amount of power she possesses startling me.
My skin prickles at the contact of the crisp night air — it's so cold out here. She drags us over the leaf-strewn forest floor, further into the darkness, and through a hole in a TREE STUMP.
She ties us up to the roots, back-to-back. My wrists and ankles are bound with thick rope which scratches my skin abrasively.
And then, she doesn't hesitate in knocking us out cold.
***
When I wake up, Mrs McCall is also here, bound by ropes and chatting to Mr Stilinski. "Nylah honey, are you okay??" she asks worriedly, noticing I'm conscious.
"Ugh, my head," I groan. "What the hell." I glance around. Light is streaming through the holes in the trunk from up above. It's the next day. We've been captive for hours now, clearly.
"So, Nylah—" Sheriff abruptly stops talking and groans. His pain emanates from him. Oh fudge, I completely forgot he was stabbed.
"Mr Stilinski?" I call worriedly, "Are you still hurt???"
"Yeah, but it's fine... I'm fine..."
"Can you reach my hand?" I ask. Mrs McCall is glancing between the two of us, sizing up the distance.
"Maybe... why?"
"I'll explain just now..."
I hear the Sheriff struggling as he attempts to scoot closer. I wriggle around, causing the ropes across my stomach to cut into my skin. I hold my hand out as close to him as possible.
I feel his hand, but can't reach his whole hand. I link my index finger with his pinky and close my eyes, channeling my power to heal him. Some of my energy, which is already running quite low, gets drained.
He gasps. "What the...? You... you... you???"
"Healed you."
Mrs McCall looks impressed. "How...?" she inquires, uncertain. "I didn't know werewolves could do that?"
"They can't. I'm not like Scott," I respond with a small smile, "I'm different."
"I didn't believe Stiles when he told me." Sheriff sighs. "He said Scott is a werewolf." He glances at Mrs McCall incredulously, waiting for either confirmation or denial.
"He is," Mrs McCall confirms, leaning her head back against the dusty wall. "It came as a shock to me at first, too. I didn't want to believe it."
"Oh, jeez," Mr Stilinski mutters. "So then... what are you, Nylah??" He's still in a slight state of disbelief.
"I'm what is known as a were-snow-leopard."
"What the hell?"
I laugh. "Believe me, I still need answers, too," I say, "I don't know anyone else like me. I was bitten by Peter Hale."
Recognition flashes across Mrs McCall's face. "Ah, so he screwed us all over. Not one of my best choices in the dating department, I'm afraid."
We all chuckle feebly.
I get an idea — to shift and wriggle out of these ropes so we can escape. I try to shift. Oh no. Why..?
"What's wrong, Nylah?"
"I can't... shift," I tell them, panicked as I struggle against the ropes. "If I could, we could get the hell out of here."
"Oh," Mrs McCall says, concerned. I'm too fatigued to explain myself.
Did she take my powers away? No, but that doesn't make sense... I was still able to heal Mr Stilinski. Oh, no. Do I not have enough energy to transform? What's going on?
***
At nightfall, now officially starving and pissed at Miss Blake, she finally returns... with my dad.
"Dad!" I call as Miss Blake ties him to a root. His head slumps forward, resting on his chest — he's unconscious.
Miss Blake tuts disapprovingly and pats dad down, probably searching for weapons. She succeeds: she takes a knife out of his boot and sleeve, his taser, and the switchblade out of his other sleeve.
Without saying a word — not a taunt, nothing — she leaves once again, probably to sacrifice yet more people.
He wakes up twenty minutes later. "Dad!!"
Relief is evident on his scratched, bruised, and bloodied face. "Nylah! You're here!"
"Yes," I mutter grimly.
"You okay over there?" Mr Stilinski asks.
"Chris? It's Chris, right?"
"Yeah..." dad trails off, looking around with recognition.
"Is it just me, or has somebody been here before?" Sheriff Stilinski asks.
"Years ago."
And just then, evil Miss Blake walks in with a packet of salted crisps. My mouth waters and my stomach growls. Her eyes are fixed on me as she raises a crisp to her mouth and starts crunching on it. Anger surges within me. Frustration and anger emanates from everyone else.
"Interesting how truth becomes altered by legend... when it's not actually the metal silver that kills werewolves, but the family." She steps ever closer to dad. "What's the Argent Code again? "We hunt those who hunt us"? I hope you don't mind if I borrow it for a little while, since I've been hunted myself."
"Don't pretend like we have the same cause. I don't kill innocent people," dad replies.
Miss Blake scoffs, frustrated. "That's why they call it a sacrifice. And I wish it worked another way... but think about what you're doing. You are making this town — even this world — safer for your children." She chuckles and looks at Mrs McCall and me. "Well... most of them."
She drops the half-empty chip packet out of all of our reach and leaves. "What a bitch," Mrs McCall mutters.
"Agreed," Mr Stilinski responds, irritated.
Dad starts twisting around in the ropes, trying to get loose. Mrs McCall pipes up, "I don't wanna kill your optimism or anything, but you know, the three of us have been trying to do the exact same thing for hours."
Dad manages to pull out an ultrasonic emitter out from behind him. "What is that?" Mrs McCall asks.
"Ultrasonic emitter — a smaller version of what we use to corral werewolves. Only they hear it. Most of the time, we use it to push them away... let's see if it works to attract them." He presses the button.
Instantly, a high-pitched, intolerable sound rings out, coming directly from the emitter. It pierces my eardrums. Involuntarily, my body convulses and I gasp.
All of the adults look at me sharply. "Nylah! Nylah, I'm so sorry, I didn't think..." dad apologises, looking exceedingly guilty.
"It's fine." I grimace. "At least we know it works." I butt my head against the back of the wall as the emitter continues to ring out, drawing more and more frantic apologies from dad.
***
It's the next day.
The emitter didn't succeed in drawing other people to us. What is everyone doing? And where is Miss Blake? We haven't seen her since yesterday... what is she up to?
Recently, I've been slipping in and out of consciousness due to my unbearable hunger. I haven't eaten in two days. Or is it three? My stomach is in so much pain.
I've had ample time to reflect on Isaac and Allison, and them... together. Yes, it hurts. Yes, letting him go will hurt. But no, I don't want to be in a relationship where my partner doesn't know what he wants. That's just going to hurt me more.
"Anyone else feeling an unbearable itch they can't scratch?" Mrs McCall asks, trying to lighten the mood even though I sense her spirits dropping with each passing minute.
"Well, not before you said something... but now, yes," Mr Stilinski answers, "I do."
"I'm just hungry," I grumble, watching debris fall from the ceiling. I look sharply at dad. "Dad, why didn't you call Elijah?"
He sighs. "I can't believe I didn't think of doing that."
"Sorry, who's Elijah?" Mrs McCall asks.
"Nylah's real father," dad responds, "He's a vampire."
"I'm sorry — what to both?!" Mr Stilinski yelps.
"Yep."
I shift around, trying to get comfortable — my skin is irritated and inflamed from the tightness of the ropes, pins and needles prickle my entire body, my coccyx are incredibly painful, and my muscles are cramping due to being tied up in a fixed position for three days. The dust curls in the air as I fight against the ropes, frustrated.
Thunder sounds out up ahead, just as the Nemeton starts shaking. Dust falls from the roof. I sense the ground sinking beneath us.
Amazingly, we can all hear the sound of footsteps coming from the stairs of the Nemeton. With baited breath, we wait to see who they are: Allison and Isaac.
"You found us!" dad exclaims.
"Dad... Teddy," Allison says, overjoyed. She starts working on my ropes. "No. Get dad out first, I've still got my powers," I lie, smiling weakly.
This place is crumbling. I'll be dammed if I let Allison lose another parent when she's already lost her mother.
My stomach growls loudly. I feel nauseous, that's how hungry I am... my stomach literally feels as though it's eating itself.
I've grown accustomed to Mrs McCall, Mr Stilinski, and dad's own pain, frustration, hunger, and anxiety. It's been hitting me every second of the time we've spent here. This whole ordeal has been unendurable.
As Isaac unties Mrs McCall's ropes, he looks at me. His eyes convey what his words cannot. It's definitely over. Dismayed, I avert my gaze to the floor.
"Where's Stiles?" Mr Stilinski asks, "Where's my son?"
"And Scott?" Mrs McCall pipes up.
"They're coming, all right?" Isaac responds, "They're on their way to help."
Yet more debris fall from the roof, a couple landing on my face. "Quick," Allison urges Isaac, frantically untying dad's ropes.
"Get them out," I urge Isaac and Allison.
Isaac carries Mrs McCall out of the Nemeton. Allison is on the verge of tears, her hands fumbling. She screams in frustration — she still hasn't untied dad.
"Calm down, Allison. You can do it," dad reassures her. The way he is looking at her face is something the poets would write about — he has so much parental love and compassion etched onto his features.
Isaac comes back down to work on Mr Stilinski's excessive binds. However, the roof starts crumbling. Frantic, Isaac holds it up, urging Allison to hurry.
The lunar eclipse happens, forcing Isaac to un-transform. Oh. This means we've all lost our powers. "I can't do it! I can't hold it! I can't hold it! It's too much!!"
Allison helps him hold the place up. "It's too heavy..."
"Mr Stilinski!! Get out of here!" I yell at him.
Stiles, out of nowhere, jumps through the hole of the Nemeton and slides a bat under the roof to prop it up. "...I always said aluminium was better than wood."
I beam at Stiles.
And abruptly, the wind stops swirling. The Nemeton stops crumbling. Isaac manages to assist Mr Stilinski, Allison, and dad out of the entrance.
"Nylah..." Stiles says, unbinding my ropes with quick fingers. "Are you alright?"
"You don't have food, do you?" I whine, eyeing the practically-empty chip with disdain. Even though I've got no energy left, I'm not touching anything that Miss Blake discarded.
"No, but I'll get you some as soon as we get out, alright? I promise." His hands travel to the ropes around my waist. My breath hitches in my throat at the sudden contact. "I'm glad you're alright."
"And me for you," I respond, leaning my head against the wall. "Hey... what's different?" I frown. "You feel... different."
"I feel different? You're not even touching me," Stiles jokes, chuckling.
"You know what I mean..."
Stiles sighs as he finally manages to free me from the rope. "Scott, Allison, and I had to do this weird thing in order to find this place... Deaton said there'd be darkness around our hearts. I guess it's already kicking in if you're sensing it."
"I'm so sorry about that," I respond, concerned. "Thank you for helping us, Stiles. I really appreciate all you've done. You'll fight this, okay? You're strong. And I'll help you."
He nods, helping me to my feet. I stagger back, completely uncoordinated. My whole body aches, and I feel feeble. My stomach is tearing itself apart at this point.
Stiles steadies me by placing two hands on my waist before scooping me into his arms. He carries me to the entrance of the Nemeton.
Dad and Mr Stilinski lean down to pull me out before pulling Stiles out.
Allison runs up to me and hugs me tightly. When she releases me, Isaac walks over to us. "Nylah... I'm glad you're okay," he utters.
Allison strolls off, talking to Mrs McCall now. I look back at her with a small, sad smile.
"I know."
"You know what...?" Isaac inquires, thoroughly confused.
"That you and Allison like each other." I sigh. "I know."
Shock flashes across his face. "You — you what?"
"Isaac, let's not pretend, okay?" I suggest tiredly, "I thought we're closer than two people who lie to each other."
"I— um."
"I know." I feel defeated. "You two can do what you want."
"Nylah, I-I'm sorry."
"I know." I smile softly. "I know. Goodbye, Isaac."
Isaac gives me one last guilty glance before he walks off with Mrs McCall and Allison.
Stiles appears out of nowhere and engulfs me with a big hug. "I'm so sorry, Nylah," he utters, "Allison and Isaac filled us all in on what happened the other day. He doesn't deserve you. You didn't deserve that — not even close. You're incredible, all right? Don't you ever forget it."
His words strike my most vulnerable parts within me. I break down crying. Stiles strokes my hair as I sob into his chest. I clutch onto him.
My legs give out due to the shock of everything — and I mean everything — that's happened, but Stiles holds me up. He looks out for me. He's a true friend. An amazing person.