After packing and taping up my final box, I grunted slightly under its weight while carrying it over to the overflowing stack by the door.
With all of my personal belongings trapped away in the despised moving boxes not even twenty four hours following Jackson's transformation, my room looked as barren as Allison's had a few weeks ago.
When we had first arrived in Beacon Hills there was a sense of hope that maybe we had found our permanent place, but with everything that had happened, Dad clearly wanted to ensure we carried on the Argent pattern of picking up and leaving before the school year was even over. So it was painful, but habitual, to dig out all of the cardboard again.
The minute we had gotten home last night, our father sat Allison and I down and explained we would be moving away from Beacon Hills and all of the problems it had caused for our family. He explained that he didn't want to be a werewolf hunter - or be involved with any supernatural issues in the town for that matter - anymore.
The year had been too tolling on him.
"This house is too big," he had stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's not the same."
"You mean not the same without Mom," Allison mumbled.
Dad's expression crumbled at the mention of her and, acknowledging my sister was right through a defeated glance, he took in a deep breath.
"It's not a home," our father's voice was softer than usual, but his next words had sliced through the air like knives. "I want you girls to start packing your things. We have a flight to France early tomorrow."
At his news, my heart dropped.
Right when I had found a life for myself, a group of friends to support me, and Stiles. Right when I had finally felt a sense of belonging in a city as opposed to feeling like a constant visitor, Dad had explained he was selling the house for us to spend time away in the French countryside.
I had expected simply a smaller apartment or condo unit, but Dad wanted as much distance as possible for himself but also for us. Yet another element, this time geographical, to keep us 'protected' and 'safe'. Part of me wondered if he had looked at a map of the world and pinpointed the most distant location he could find, simply using our family lineage as an excuse to justify the decision.
He said we could live and learn about our Argent ancestors, that I could take time to collect myself and figure out what was happening with me or if the distance from the trauma would alleviate my 'symptoms', and we could have a break from everything supernatural. He said we could start fresh.
But I didn't want to start fresh.
I couldn't bear to think about what I would be leaving behind.
"For how long?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean how long is this break going to be? A few months? A year?"
Dad sighed and looked down at me. "Eleanor, it's not a break. It's a change."
I had felt my face growing hotter with fury by the second.
"You can't do this! You can't just tell us we are meant to drop everything we have here and leave!" I sputtered.
"But there isn't anything left for us here. We're getting away from this toxic lifestyle and the negative memories of your mother, memories of your grandfather," Dad stated. "By bringing you two into this type of world I have done nothing but constantly put you in danger and put you through traumatic circumstances. There's nothing to drop. We've already lost everything."
"I haven't lost everything."
My father started to show his frustration. "Ellie, there will be other boys..."
"Oh my god!" I interrupted him, standing to my feet. "You think that's all I'm talking about?"
He studied me as Allison remained quietly seated on the couch.
"You seriously think the only reason why I don't want to uproot and move to France is because you saw me holding hands with a boy and suddenly you know everything? Seriously?" I shook my head in disbelief. "I don't want to leave because I finally feel like I belong somewhere. I've felt like an outsider for a while, but when we came here I finally met people who embraced who I was. Even when it seemed like I was certifiably insane sometimes. This house might not be a home, Dad, I get that. But Beacon Hills is."
He sighed. "The flight is booked, Ellie. No more arguing about this. This move will be a good thing for all of us."
"How can you be so sure?" my eyes were prickling, but Dad simply stared at me sadly and tensed his jaw. I glanced back at my sister, who looked just as sad as me but not as vocal, before taking one last look at my father and pushing past him. "Well, it's not like I have a choice, is it?"
Not bothering to stick around and listen to any more of Dad's reasoning, I had trudged up the stairs and slammed the door to my bedroom behind me.
Which is where I had finally closed the last moving box; my room fully erased of the life I had found for myself.
As I sat on the foot of my bed and stared at the blank wall in front of me, there was a quiet knocking at my door.
"Ellie?" the voice sounded muffled on the other side of the wooden barrier. "It's me. It's Allison."
I sat up straighter. "Come in."
The door cracked open.
"Hey," she mumbled, her eyes falling on mine.
"Hi."
She wandered over next to me and pointed at the empty space to my left. "Can I sit there?"
"Sure."
After she sat down, we were both quiet for a few minutes. It was like we had forgotten how to behave around each other, having not spoken genuinely ever since she had let our mother's death consume her.
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Allison whispered, breaking the silence. "For how I've been acting lately."
I looked at my hands.
"I don't know what happened to me. I guess Gerard just fueled my fire when it came to being angry at Derek. I thought that when it all came down to it, Derek was the one who changed Scott which made his life harder, changed Jackson which made him kill innocent people, and of course Mom..."
Allison's voice trailed off.
"He helped me at the station, you know. Derek did."
She squinted her eyes at me in confusion.
"Matt sent the kanima to kill us and I tried to fight back but it could take whatever I threw at it. Bullets, knives, none of it was really working to the point where the kanima had me pinned against a wall. I thought I was going to pass out or that it would just finish me off right there but Derek jumped into action and helped get it off of me," I explained. Although I didn't feel like I owed Derek Hale anything, I felt he deserved at least some credit.
"I didn't know," she shook her head and bit her lip. "I guess I was too busy wanting to kill him. I needed someone to blame for what happened to Mom and he was just the clearest enemy in my mind."
"He's definitely not innocent but he wasn't the reason Mom had to kill herself, you know that right?"
"Yeah," she muttered. "I get that it was more Gerard's fault now or at least I'm trying to wrap my head around it. When he started losing it and saying things like he would be okay with me or Dad dying if it guaranteed his survival, I felt like I was just waking up. And I couldn't believe that I didn't see more of that before, like you did."
On the ride home, Allison had explained to me what had happened before Lydia, Stiles, and I came crashing through the wall.
Apparently Gerard had lost his mind and began threatening everyone with the kanima whom he controlled, even considering Allison and Dad as prospects if they got in his way. After everything, his entire motive was to get a bite from Derek Hale, the very werewolf they had all been trained to kill. The bite that Gerard insisted justified our mother's death, was the bite he wanted and he had no intention of killing himself afterwards.
At that point in her retelling, I wanted to kill him myself.
It turned out that our grandfather was dying already - apparently from cancer - and needed the transformation to trigger the healing process. However, when Derek bit the old man, the bite sparked an allergic response as Gerard's body rejected the transformative powers; hence the black puddle of blood I had noticed when I arrived.
After becoming weakened and bloodied, Gerard had somehow crawled away during the commotion, leaving us to wonder if he had met his demise somewhere or if he was still alive.
Either way, Dad had said we didn't have to worry about our grandfather anymore. And I cared more about the fact that the reveal of Gerard's true colours was enough to finally snap my twin sister out of her daze.
We sat in silence for a moment longer.
"I didn't even get to say goodbye to her," Allison whispered. "I thought about that a lot, especially when I read her letter to me. The last conversation I had with her I was rude and dismissive and annoyed. That's the last thing she heard from me. Then she was just.... she was just gone."
"I know," I murmured. Placing my hand over my sister's, Allison looked up at me with watering eyes. "I thought about that too. But she knew we loved her just as much as she loved us, okay? It was all muddled through the werewolf paranoia but it was there. I'm sure she knew that."
My sister nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. With a look at her crying, finally showing elements of the old Allison - the true Allison - I began to well up too.
She noticed this and took the opportunity to pull me into a tight hug.
We stayed there for a moment, holding ourselves up for the first time in too long.
"I missed this," she choked out against my hair.
I smiled gratefully, my tears turning into those of great relief to have my twin at my side again. The way things were meant to be.
"Me too."
"Do you think this move will be that bad?"
I leaned back from our hug. "Part of me feels that way. Allison, I don't want to leave the people here. And I don't know how I'm supposed to figure out why I get these senses or see these things all the time if I'm away from them."
"Like Dad said, maybe they'll go away when we're not around Beacon Hills anymore."
I shrugged, clearly not convinced.
Allison squeezed my hand in reassurance. "No matter what happens, you'll have me. I know it hasn't seemed like it recently but you've always had me."
I grinned.
"And you always will," she insisted.
"Good," I nodded, letting my face break into a smile.
Changing the topic eventually, she motioned towards the tower of cardboard by the door."So you're done packing?"
"Unfortunately, yes," I sighed. "Now all that's left is the goodbyes."
"Right. Lydia wants to see us just before we drive to the airport, but I've gotta go talk to Scott now," she paused, trying to slip in her next statement casually. "I guess you have to go see Stiles."
"Yeah. I texted him earlier, he's picking me up in like ten minutes."
"So... you two are finally a thing?"
I looked down at my feet glumly. "It's kind of hard to be a thing when I'm moving to the other side of the world."
She frowned.
"I guess it's just the two of us again, isn't it?" she spoke, standing up from her seat and wandering over to the door.
"Like usual," I shrugged my shoulders.
Allison nodded, taking one last look at the pile of boxes before reaching for the door. Turning the handle, she paused momentarily; turning over her shoulder to look at me.
"We'll be okay, won't we?" she asked.
"I think so."
She nodded. "I think so too."
"Allison?" I stopped her just before she had disappeared into the hallway.
"Yeah?"
"It's good to have you back," I smiled, the words catching in my throat.
She beamed. "It's good to be back."
And with that, I let her return to her room where she would soon be trying to separate from the first boy she had ever loved.
Checking my phone, I had a few notifications from Stiles saying that he was right outside. I couldn't help but grin, standing from my bed and peering out of the window to notice his blue Jeep parked in the driveway.
I texted him immediately that I was on my way down.
Once I had reached the vehicle and clicked open the passenger side door to slide into my regular seat, Stiles smiled at me softly.
"Hey," he mumbled, his hair hidden underneath a baseball cap.
"Hi," I greeted, the bittersweet feeling of the night creeping in already. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he felt it too.
"Any requests on where to go? For your last night in Beacon Hills?"
"Just drive."
He nodded, twisting the keys into ignition and pulling away from our house, past the for sale sign, and down the quiet evening roads of the town.
After about half an hour of driving in silence, Stiles pulled onto a forest road and drove up a winding dirt path until we had reached the top of an embankment and shut off the engine.
"We're here," he stated, jumping out of his seat to run around the outside of the car and open my door. I took his hand.
"Where's here?"
"No where in particular," Stiles shrugged, pulling me to the front of the car. "But it's got a good view."
I turned to look out to where the Jeep was facing and froze at the sight of a good portion of the town beneath us, all lit up in the darkness.
"It's nice, hey? Scott scouted it one time on a midnight run," he smiled, jumping up on the hood of the Jeep and motioning to the empty space next to him. I used the front bumper as a step to join him.
"Not bad at all, Stilinski." I nodded while taking in the sights. The reason for our outing suddenly washed over me with the cold breeze and I frowned, glancing back at him. "It's a shame I have to leave it."
He fiddled with his hands.
"So it's official," he mumbled. "You're leaving."
"My dad wants us gone by tomorrow. The flight is six hours from now."
Stiles exhaled heavily, lifting his cap just to run a hand through his hair before putting it back on.
"I know," I murmured, my throat dry. "I'm sorry. I don't wanna go either."
"So don't."
"What?"
"Stay with me," he looked earnestly into my eyes and grabbed my hand. "I'm sure there's a mattress at my house you could use. Hell, I'll sleep on the couch -"
"Stiles..."
" - I mean we could sleep in the same bed I guess but I'd have to convince my dad first - "
"Stiles, " my eyes were watering. He was trying all he could to get me to stay and it was breaking my heart even more knowing that I couldn't. "I have to go. There is no way my dad will let me stay here. He wants us as far from Beacon Hills as possible."
Stiles expression faltered, glancing down at our hands.
"He wants us away from all of this," I continued. "The business, what happened with my mom, just all of it."
"How far is far?"
"The French countryside."
"Jesus."
"I'm sorry," my voice cracked.
"No, don't be sorry. You can't do anything about it," Stiles took a deep breath. Turning to look back out at the view but keeping our hands intertwined, he began shaking his head in disbelief. "Just my luck, huh? I finally get to kiss the most beautiful girl I have ever met and she up and leaves to run somewhere far across the ocean not even two days later."
I smiled, but my tears finally made their way to the surface and began spilling out against my cheeks as he tried to make light of the issue and joke around.
"Hey," his eyes widened, gesturing wildly with his free arm and speaking out towards the landscape. "If the kiss was that bad just tell me."
"Stiles," I cried softly, pulling at his hand to get him to turn back to face me. When he did, the teasing expression fell from his face and broke into sadness.
"El," he shook his head and pulled me into a tight embrace.
His arms squeezed so tight around me and held me close as if it would be the last time he had the chance to do so. I cried harder when I considered that it might.
"I know," he whispered and I could hear his own voice wavering. "I know."
We fell silent together for what felt like eternity as I shut my eyes tightly and tried to convince myself that I didn't have to open them and leave. His face was buried in the crook of my neck and I played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his.
"When will you be back? In the Fall for the start of next year?" he whispered.
I tried to think of a better answer than the one in my mind, but failed.
"I don't know."
Stiles was quiet, so I attempted to assure him. "I'm going to try and get back here as soon as I can though."
He broke from our embrace and leaned back to look in my eyes. I noticed his were red and puffy.
"You know what, maybe it'll be better that you're away," he sniffed. "Your dad's right, this place is kind of a mess."
"Stiles," I whispered. "Be serious."
"What? The French countryside is way prettier than these suburbs," he spoke and I could tell that he was trying to be positive. "Flowers, baguettes, more cultured art. You'll like that."
The corner of my lips twitched upwards slightly at him, but I caught myself and shook my head.
"But the French countryside doesn't have you. And I definitely won't like that."
He squeezed my hand and we sat there a while longer, staring out at the town I'd be flying over shortly.
"I'm going to miss you, Stiles," I whispered.
"Come on, Eleanor, don't say that. Don't say you're gonna miss me as if you're never going to see me again," he turned to stare at me. "I don't care how long I have to wait. I swear, I'm going to do everything in my human ability to see you after this."
I fell into his hazel eyes.
"You better," I spoke before leaning forward and pressing my lips onto his.
He moved his hands to cup my cheeks and pulled me closer, kissing me as passionately as possible. Our lips were desperate and we moved like we needed each other more than anything else.
When we pulled away for air, I leaned my forehead against his.
"I don't want to leave you, Stilinski," my voice was barely audible.
"Well, good thing you don't have to yet," he whispered. "We still have tonight."
He was right, but a night could only last so long. And as I stared out the airplane window in the early sobering hours of the next morning, I realized that a night could never last long enough.
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a/n: the end. (of book one)
i could go on and on here but decided to make another chapter purely for my author's note to express all of my feelings. Please keep reading!