FEBRUARY 20, 2016
SATURDAY
9:10 P.M.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Scott sat on the foot of his bed and tapped his cell phone against his palm over and over again, anxiously waiting, hoping, for it to ring again. Waiting to hear Stiles's voice again, to understand what he'd been talking about. Scott replayed the brief phone call in his head. It made his stomach twist into knots. Stiles had been so certain of his plan; what could have happened so quickly to derail it and bring him to such hysteria? Calling Scott risked everything, and Stiles knew that.
A soft knock on the bedroom door startled Scott. He dropped his phone to the floor but didn't bother picking it up. The door opened and Allison stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind her. She was still in her pajamas; oversized black-and-blue flannel pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt that may as well have been a dress. Thrown on over the pajamas was a black leather jacket. Her bottoms almost entirely covered her worn white sneakers. Her brown hair was pulled up into a tangled mess of a bun, like she'd been sleeping and hadn't bothered to brush it. But Scott knew she hadn't been sleeping. Even if she hadn't told him so, he would have guessed from the dark bags under her eyes.
"Thanks for coming," Scott greeted. "I know it's late."
"What's going on?" She moved to the foot of the bed and sat down beside Scott, like she had so many other times. This time it felt different, strange, yet still as familiar and comfortable as it always had. Her tense body immediately relaxed as she sat. She still seemed perfectly at ease in his house, his room, and he was glad about that. He didn't want that to change.
In their romantic relationship they'd balanced each other out, acted as buffers and lifelines, kept each other grounded. Scott hoped that even as friends they could do the same. Looking at her now, he still felt it, the strange, sudden sense of calm. He wanted her to feel the same. It felt different now, though, without all the romantic connotations. More innocent. Now he just felt like she was his best friend.
He told her of the phone call. She frowned. "What do you think happened?" she asked.
Scott shrugged. "With Derek, it could be anything."
Allison slid off the bed and onto her knees, reaching under Scott's bed and pulling out a large shoebox. She set it on the bed where she'd been sitting and flipped open the top. Inside were several stakes and vials of holy water of varying sizes and widths. She grabbed two stakes and slipped one into each pocket of her pajama pants, doing the same with two small vials of holy water into her jacket pockets.
"What are you doing?" Scott asked.
She stood. "Arm yourself. We're going to save Stiles."
"Okay, but how?"
"We'll go in, kill them, take Stiles and leave."
"You say that like it's simple."
"It is. We save him or we die trying."
"I'd do anything for Stiles," Scott said. "But he didn't want us to do this. He actually told us to do the exact opposite. What if he was right?"
Allison shook her head. "He isn't right. This is proof of that. I'm not trying to say 'I told you so,' okay? I'm just saying that if Stiles dies in there and we didn't try to save him...Look, you don't have to come with me. I'm not trying to guilt trip you. I'm not going to ask you to risk your life just because I'm risking mine. But I'm going."
"I understand. I would do anything for Stiles. I would gladly die for him. But we need to be prepared."
"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." A pause. She looked down at her feet. "Would you do the same for me? Do anything for me? Die for me?"
"Yes. I was ready to die for you when Derek took you."
Allison looked at him again. "I'm sorry. For running off that night. If I hadn't, none of this would have happened."
"It's okay. I would have done the same thing. I'm the one who should apologize."
Tears filled Allison's eyes suddenly. She waved him away and sucked in a deep breath to calm herself. "We can talk about it later. When we have Stiles and we're home and we're safe."
Scott nodded and grabbed a stake from the box. "Let's do this."
FEBRUARY 20, 2016
SATURDAY
11:30 P.M.
Scott's feet hurt with every single step. He wanted to throw himself down onto the ground and just sleep. By now, even the cold, hard cement ground looked comfortable. The air was humid but still slightly cool, though the humidity still overwhelmed them. They were both soaking with sweat, struggling to breathe. Allison's hair had fallen almost all the way out of her bun, covering her face in a tangled, sweaty mess of brown curls.
"How much longer?" Scott gasped.
"Not long. Maybe an hour," Allison gasped back.
Scott groaned. "An hour? You said that an hour ago! Your sense of time is so off, have I ever told you that?"
"Yes, several times. Most of them tonight."
Scott looked around at the deserted one-lane road, surrounded on either side by dense woods. "Was it a good idea for us to come alone?"
"Stiles won't like that we came anyway. If we'd brought others, like John, he would be furious. Besides, if anyone has to die, I'd rather it be us, Derek and Laura. Not our families. Not innocent people that have nothing to do with this."
"Do you think we're going to make it through this?"
Allison frowned for a second. Then, "Yes."
"You hesitated. Why would you hesitate? That was supposed to be the opening for a pep talk, which, by the way, I could really use right now and I would give you one except you look really sure of yourself and--"
Allison stopped, grabbing Scott by the arms and stopping him too. She looked him straight in the eyes. "Scott! We're going to be okay. We will make it through this."
Despite her hard gaze, which he assumed was meant to be convincing, she sounded like she was trying to convince both of them, not just him.
"You don't sound so sure," Scott said.
Allison released him. "I have to be. The moment I let myself think otherwise, it's all over."
Scott blinked. "When did you get so strong and badass?"
"I've always been that way. I just always thought you were too in love with me to notice." Allison's face softened. She removed her hair the rest of the way from the bun and shook her head wildly, then pushed her hair back away from her face, tucking it behind her ears.
"I was. In love with you. I hope you don't think that I wasn't, or that I didn't love you because I did, I do. It's just complicated."
"I know." Allison looked down the road ahead of them, her jaw tightening. She met his gaze again. "Do you love Stiles? Are you in love with him?" Her chin started to tremble. She hardened her face. It stopped.
Scott almost lied. Almost. "I do. I am."
Allison continued walking abruptly. "Come on. We better hurry."
FEBRUARY 21, 2016
SUNDAY
12:45 A.M.
Allison had been right. A little over an hour later, they'd arrived at the giant wrought-iron fence guarding Derek and Laura's house. The one they had been set free from. The one their best friend was still held captive in. Now Allison was hacking at the lock on the gate with her stake. It'd been several minutes but she hadn't stopped, not once. Sweat dripped off her.
"I can't believe we forgot about the gate," Scott muttered. "We're so stupid."
Allison threw the stake to the ground, groaned in frustration, and sat down on the ground, head in her hands. "I can't break this freaking thing open!"
"There has to be another way in," Scott said for the millionth time.
"There isn't. God, we came all the way here and we can't even get inside the freaking--"
"Allison, stop," Scott said firmly. She looked up at him in surprise. He stared back at her, trying to match the intensity of the look she'd given him earlier when he'd wanted to give up. "We came this far. We're not going to let a stupid lock get in our way. Now get up, and let's save our best friend."
Allison looked at Scott, soaking in his words. He held out his hand. She took it, and let him pull her to her feet. This was the balance Scott hoped wouldn't leave them. She helped him when he broke down, and he did the same for her, even now, after all that had happened.
Allison picked up her stake. Scott pulled his own from his pocket. Together, they hacked at the lock. After a matter of minutes with their combined efforts, the lock broke and the gate creaked open a crack. Allison shoved it open and took off toward the house, glancing at Scott every few seconds to make sure he was still behind her. Soon, they were running side by side, constantly throwing glances at each other to make sure the other was okay.
The house was shrouded in darkness when they arrived. Not a single light was on. The only sound was their gasping, which Scott feared would wake up one of the probably sleeping vampires. Him and Allison stood on the porch, staring at the front door, until their breathing had returned to normal.
Allison raised her stake and raised an eyebrow at Scott. "You ready?"
Scott nodded, raising his own stake. Allison tried the door handle - and it was unlocked. She slowly shoved the door open. It creaked loudly in the silence. They looked at each other once more before they both stepped into the house. Slowly, they advanced down the hall. They were barely past the living room doorway when the front door slammed shut behind them. They whirled around, ready to stab with their stakes.
Laura grabbed Allison by the hair and slammed her head into the wall before either of them could so much as blink. Allison crumpled to the ground with a thud, a large circle of blood on the wall from her head. Scott struck out with his stake. Laura caught his wrist easily and then tackled him to the ground. Fire exploded in his neck, and then it was dark.
FEBRUARY 21, 2016
SUNDAY
2:23 A.M.
A cold stone floor greeted Scott when he woke, followed by a throbbing in his neck from Laura's bite. He sat up, rubbing his neck, crusted with dried blood. On the floor beside him was Allison, still unconscious, face-down. Blood covered the back of her head, matting her hair. He looked around.
They were in a stone basement, an old-fashioned type. It was completely empty except for a small table in the center of the room, on which sat the only light source - a small lamp, giving a dim orange glow. A wooden staircase led up into darkness. Scott slid over to Allison and gently shook her shoulder until she groaned and pushed herself into a sitting position. She blinked at Scott and then looked around the room, rubbing her forehead.
"Where are we?" she whispered.
Scott shook his head and shrugged. Allison crawled to her knees. Scott stood quickly, helping her to her feet. Allison broke away from him and immediately darted up the staircase, disappearing into the shadows. There was a thud, a grunt, and then bright light stabbed Scott's eyes. Allison cried out in shock. Scott hurried up the steps to stand beside her. His eyes adjusted as he halted a step below Allison, but he wished they hadn't.
At the top of the stairs stood Laura - and Stiles. She had Stiles's arm in one hand and a pistol in the other. The pistol was pressed against Stiles's temple. He was white as a sheet, probably with fear, Scott assumed. Blood covered the front of his shirt but Scott couldn't tell if he was wounded. Laura sneered down at them.
"Get down the stairs. Now, or I pull the trigger," she ordered. Allison and Scott quickly backed down the stairs.
"Please don't hurt him," Scott said.
Laura sneered and pulled the trigger. A loud crack echoed through the air, bouncing off the stone walls and colliding with Allison's ear-splitting scream. Stiles fell forward and tumbled down the stairs, rolling to a stop at Allison and Scott's feet. Scott felt like the floor had opened underneath him and he was falling through blackness, completely numb but somehow painfully empty.
He fell to his knees beside Stiles's bloody, lifeless, unmoving body. Laura slammed the door shut again, leaving them in the dim orange light of the lamp once again.