Powerless — Allison

First of all, shout-out to Lexim325 for being an awesome reader!

Here is the final installment to the three-shot, probably will become a prequel to an alternate universe Season 3B fanfiction that I am contemplating on doing probably after I finish the list of stories I started. But enough about that, you don't want to know about that. This final chapter will focus on Allison after her departure from purgatory and what she does next.

Again, I do not own Teen Wolf. I am just afraid of facing reality where the show is ending. Dark themes, I guess, and Allisaac friendship.

The crying was loud.

Allison shot up from the metal tub, her fingers still trembling from the ice bath she had taken to save her father. The very same bath that killed her for God knows how many hours, that thought crossed her mind when Allison's eyes landed on a clock, her head far too dizzy to try and read the time. She wanted to ask what the time was, to know how long she had been held under water. Allison needed to know how long she's got to save the people she can still save. Her throat ached and throbbed as the words refused to slip out of her tongue when she saw her best friend, Lydia, crying on the ground.

Allison should have guessed from the shattered pieces of glass sitting on the floor of the clinic to know what had happened. "She screamed."

Allison's head turned towards the direction of the solemn and broody voice that belonged to Isaac, someone she thought she could have been with. She shook her head, it's a silly thought to her now. The thought of being with someone else, someone entirely unlike Scott, she didn't know how she came up with the idea and why it seemed acceptable but a voice in her mind reminded her why. Allison remembered the fight earlier with Scott, how they argued over their break-up.

"And we took a break! I went away and I started seeing other people because I needed to get that image—what I suddenly realized what I was capable of—out of my mind before I could even consider being with you!" her mind repeated her own words like a broken plate, reminding her all over again of why they needed to break-up, of why she thought being with Isaac was a good idea; she needed time and space to let go of what she thought she had become. She needed to feel powerful, to be independent and at the time, being with Scott didn't make her feel that way.

In fact, Allison felt like a damsel, a liability who was always considered whether or not she's an enemy or an ally.

"And that's what I call a smart move, Allison, because we needed to see things a whole lot more clearly than we did before."

He was right, so she stepped away from that. Allison needed a change of scenery and of people, so she went to France. There, she met some of her distant relatives, people who protected themselves without slaughtering the innocent. They didn't break free from the Code, but they weren't exactly religious followers because they saw some of the werewolves as people. They saw the flaws and they managed to right their ancestor's wrong. "To serve others and not only ourselves." René-Charles Argent and his sister, the cousins she and her Dad stayed with, made their own Code.

Not everyone had the stomach to live in the supernatural world and understand it. Not everyone could pull the trigger and certainly not everyone understood that being supernatural did not equal being a monster. Choices define the character, not the other way around and Allison knew to herself that a good number of people would rather shoot first and ask later. So, she was amazed because their cousins' code protected not only the humans vulnerable to particular werewolves who chose to live in a certain way, but also the werewolves hunted down by closed-minded hunters just because they were either born that way or they met with an unfortunate chance.

Either way, most didn't even want to be a werewolf.

So when it had first started, the Alpha Pack and the Darach, when it became too much for Allison to sit out on, she dragged herself and her father out of retirement with a new Code, her revolution and evolution inspired by the French cousins who gave supernaturals the benefit of a doubt. "We protect those who cannot protect themselves." Allison remembered how her distant cousins' code both applied to the humans and the supernatural and decided that it was fitting for her pack.

Allison and her friends, they protected those who cannot protect themselves.

And yet, a cynical and depressed voice piped up in her mind, you cannot follow your own code because you failed to protect the one who continued to protect you.

Allison just watched her best friend sob on the ground, dangerously close to the shards of glass that could cut her. Her throat caught a sob that her lips begged to voice. She failed her Code because she lost Scott. The 3 months she spent, some 7 thousand kilometers away from home, trying to make herself feel powerful to prove to her friends that she wasn't this person so easily consumed by power, so easily corrupted by others, was wasted just like that. Allison wanted to prove that she could handle power and be like Scott, so pure and kind.

She failed. She's powerless, that way. Allison was powerless because she always needed help, she's so dependent on others that the only time she did try to do things on her own, she ended up being motherless.

Allison felt weak because she couldn't be like Scott, because she couldn't save Scott. Allison felt weak because she wasn't strong enough to anchor him life, she's weak because she's simply not enough for anyone.

"She didn't scream for Scott, you know," Isaac said, gloomy as ever like London, where Jackson currently was. The look on his face was so haunting, so betrayed that Allison was reminded even more of Scott's death. "The bastard didn't even try and fight for his life." The hurt in Isaac's voice was something Allison never heard before, nor was it something she would have expected. He kept pacing around, his face strained as if he was trying so hard not to say something, but it the end he spoke up, his tone harsh and cruel. "You know, I left Derek because Scott's the true alpha. Scott's the better alpha and all of a sudden he kills himself without so much as a warning?" Issac slammed the wet towel he had in his hands to the ground, earning a glare from Lydia.

The logical part of Allison wanted Isaac to calm down, to get his shit together so they can formulate some kind of plan to defeat the Darach. Another part of her wanted to snap, tell him that he isn't the center of the universe and that he wasn't the only one who lost Scott.

Melissa. . .

Allison didn't even think of Melissa, if their parents were alright. They were all too caught up in the recent turn of events, how the person they thought would end up laughing over this after some 10 years as if it was nothing but a Halloween prank for Coach, just died. It all felt impossible because the person they all counted on, the person they all expected to be there won't be there for them anymore, the person who they can always count on to protect them wouldn't be more than just a body 6 feet under the ground.

A part of Allison wanted to cry and just break down, just be a teenager who's lost her friend and first love, the love of her life, but it was like she ran out of tears from all her crying back in purgatory. So she just stood up, pushed herself to her feet, feeling lightheaded after leaving the tub of water for the first time in a few hours. "And where are you going?" Isaac asked icily, noticing that his eyes were still glued to the tub filled with pitch black water. Allison's smarts caught up to her and pieced the clues together—the thick, clack liquid pooling on the ground was Scott's blood.

He had bled out. How, she didn't know why.

Blood.

That was fitting, Allison thought to herself, grabbing one of the folded, white towels sitting on top of a metal counter. Drying herself, Allison's heart pounded hard against her chest as her face showed no emotion. She was out for blood, for the Darach's blood and she's hellbent on getting it. Allison padded her goosebumps-covered skin as she realized that the 3 months she spent in France forgetting about the darkness Kate and Gerard awakened in her would be all for nothing because that's honestly all she could see.

With all the darkness that surrounded her, Allison wanted blood, she wanted revenge.

After looking around, Allison turned to Isaac, still cold and unforgiving. "Where's my bow?" Lydia was already unconscious after she had cried herself to sleep. Isaac gave her a look, a quizzical and puzzled look that caused his chest to heave. Allison took a deep breath of air, trying to remain calm. "Where's my stuff?" Isaac didn't say anything, he didn't even move. He gave nothing to answer Allison's question so she just left the room, searching for her stuff herself.

Finding herself inside the waiting room of the animal clinic, Allison huffed when she saw her bag in plain sight. "Hey!" Isaac appeared around the corner, eyeing her as she put on a fresh set of clothes. "You're not going anywhere." Isaac breathed out, leaning against the doorway. For just a second, Allison just gave him a blank expression, a passive look that ended quickly when Allison felt her set of Chinese ring-daggers inside one of the bag's side pockets.

"I have to find our parents." Curt and straight to the point, Allison saw a black pistol and was reminded of her father. Guns were never really her choice of weapon, but it was fast and it was lethal. It could deliver a killing blow faster than a bow can. Allison faced Isaac, her phone now in hand before flashing the screen at the werewolf. "I've been under water for 16 hours, so it means I have less than 4 hours to drive myself to the preserve, free our parents, and defeat the Darach." Allison listed off, so close to knocking Isaac out just to get out of the clinic.

Standing in the same room as he was, Allison couldn't handle being next to him. In another reality, a universe where Scott survived purgatory, she might have given her and Isaac a chance. She might have liked him enough to start a relationship with him but Scott didn't make it out and that left for so many factors that made a relationship between them—any relationship, for that matter—impossible for Allison because in the 30 or so minutes she's managed back in the world without him, she's learned that there's no moving on from Scott McCall.

"Yeah," Isaac's tone challenged her. "Well, Deaton told me to look out for you and keep you in here, said that he wanted to check you if being dead for 16 hours can leave any physical side-effects." He was fast, moving himself towards the door, blocking her way out. Allison didn't give anything to acknowledge him, not even a simple nod or a protest. She just turned her back, heading straight to the kennels when Isaac spoke up again. "The back door's jammed, I don't know why," he crossed his arms, his tone dismissive as if he had nothing to do with it.

"What did you do?" Allison asked through gritted teeth, trying so hard to stay calm when all she could see was Jennifer Blake's blood on her hands. She needed her to feel pain, to feel what she's feeling.

Seeing Isaac right now reminded her of the past, when she had stabbed him and Erica at least 20 times with her Chinese ring-daggers, tied them up to the ceiling to hang, the metal ropes wired to electricity enough to kill a man. She wanted to tie him up again so that he wouldn't stand in her way. "Nothing," his façade made Allison even more angrier. "I didn't really know my own strength," finally losing her patience, Allison charged at Isaac, one of the ring-daggers in hand, yelling as if it could help ease the pain she felt.

He's in the way, Allison thought to herself, no one is going to stand in her way.

Isaac grabbed her hand just as she was about to pierce his chest. "Stop this!" he yelled, his voice held authority. "You're not thinking clearly—" he was cut off by her quick jabs to the stomach. Allison stood as Isaac fell to the ground, oxygen knocked out of him as he landed on his knees. "You can't bring him back, Allison!" it was like he was taunting her, fueling her anger with more gasoline. "He's dead, Deaton said so himself. He's already brought him to the hospital," Isaac said, his tone defeated and dejected.

Allison breathed in, her nails digging into her palm. Isaac looked at her but she just looked away, knowing well that he could smell the metallic scent of her blood. Allison relished in the pain brought by her nails, it kept her bounded and human. "Believe me, I'm not trying to bring him back," she said as calmly as possible, breathing in deep, watching Isaac's every move as he slowly inched away from the door and took small steps towards her.

Isaac shook his head, holding his hands in front of him, trying to coax her into dropping the ring-dagger. Allison could see in his eyes that the memory of being stabbed with the very same dagger was still fresh in his mind. "No, but you're about to do something very stupid. Reckless. And I'm not letting you out of these doors." In a fraction of a second, surprising Isaac—even Allison was shocked by how fast she was—as she slammed her hands against the counter, swiping everything clear of the top.

Allison laughed humorlessly. "Reckless, maybe. But what I'm going to do to her is nothing short of what she deserves." Allison sneered at the memory of her face, her act of being all innocent and kind as a teacher. She would make sure that Jennifer Blake would feel the pain she's feeling.

Isaac sighed, obviously tired of the charade. "You're not exactly convincing me that you're capable of going out there," he pointed through the see-through, glass doors, "without managing to slaughter and butcher her. I won't let you, not when you're alone and not when I don't exactly have the power to protect you," Allison could see it in his eyes, how he's being drained of his powers as the eclipse neared.

Allison gritted her teeth. "I don't need protecting." She spat, near-fuming.

Isaac grabbed both of her shoulders, pressing her into his chest in a tight embrace. "I know that," his tone was weak and gentle, soft even. Allison, for all the time she knew Isaac, never heard him like this. "I know that what we could have had will never work now," Allison froze in his embrace, tears threatening to spill. "But I still care for you, Allison, maybe not the way I thought I could have cared for you but I do and I know for a fact that I'm speaking for Scott when I say you're at your most vulnerable—" Allison scoffed.

"I'm not vulnerable." Allison grabbed a gun. "I've got a Glock 18, and if I am vulnerable, I won't be once you let me go after the Darach." Isaac shook his head, finally letting Allison out of his arms. The look on his face weighed heavy for Allison, knowing well that both her feelings for Scott and his death was affecting Isaac. "Look," she threw her hands in the air, her tone flat and finally showing emotion, "I know that you think you're trying to protect me but you have to understand that I need to do this." Isaac had none of it, a look of disbelief on his face.

Allison stood her ground, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder, grabbing a butterfly knife from one of the bag's outside pockets, poising her hands to strike.

Isaac crossed his arms, retreating back into the door, leaning against the glass. His face didn't show any sign that he was afraid of her when he caught the blade. "Gee, you're really convincing," he said, his tone sarcastic that before his brows furrowed in confusion. "What's that—" Isaac was cut off by his eyes trailing over to the blade, realizing that catching it was what Allison wanted all along. "Kanima venom? Really?" he fell to the ground, his back pressed against the cold floor.

Ignoring his protests and baseless threats, Allison pushed the glass doors open and stepped out of the clinic, cursing under her breath when she remembered that Isaac was the one who drove her here and that he had the key. Finding it would have eaten up her time so she looked away from her car, only for her eyes to land on Scott's dirt bike. Her breath caught up in her throat, oxygen escaping her lips, fogging up when she found herself standing frozen in the parking lot.

Allison would never admit to this out loud, but she always liked staying long in the school parking lot because she always wanted to see Scott arrive with his bike. She was proud of him, how he managed to get his life together and sort his priorities out even after she broke his heart into a thousand, tiny pieces. Allison always wanted to ride the motorcycle with him but she wasn't that close with him anymore, felt like it wasn't a good idea to even be in the same room.

Finding out that her feet has crossed the lot, Allison now stood by the bike's side. The seat had little droplets of water from the rain and the number up front made Allison take a deep breath, careful not to spill any tears. Allison remembered some of her dates with Scott—using his Mom's car—to the beach, remembered that he'd always place his keys under one of the tires when his board shorts didn't have any pockets. Testing her luck, Allison crouched down after some seconds of flashing her phone's light at the tire, she found a key ring hidden behind the hub of the front wheel.

Taking the key, Allison got on the bike and started the bike, ready to leave when she suddenly felt someone's presence. It was Ethan, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat as if he ran just to get to the clinic. Allison looked around, seeing if one of the sleek, black motorcycles were parked. Looking back at Ethan panting, Allison realized that he had ran over to the clinic. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone ice cold again, ready to head straight off to find wherever Jennifer was.

Ethan looked at the clinic. "I need your help." He admitted, walking closer to Allison who was cautious of his every move and watched him carefully as he made his next step towards her. "I need you to help me convince Lydia to come with me and stop," he looked around, his eyes showing truth and desperation, "Aiden from helping Kali kill Derek." Allison immediately shook her head, her hand gripping the throttle when Ethan stepped forward again, this time with a look that challenged her. "You're in a hurry. Off to stop Scott?" Ethan reminded her of something.

Scott's deal with Deucalion. Allison remembered that she was so against it, that Stiles even compared it to a crossroads deal with a demon or a contract with the Devil in Ghost Rider.

Allison looked at Ethan, steadying her heart beat and studying him only to realize that he doesn't know about Scott. "Where are they?" Ethan shook his head, crossing his arms. Allison sighed, giving in. "Fine, I'll help you convince Lydia but we do it on my terms."

Ethan nodded. "Name them." He uncrossed his arms as Allison dismounted from the bike, killing the engine and lead Ethan towards the doors of the clinic, only to find Isaac up and standing with Lydia. "Lydia—" Ethan started but Allison held her arm out, stopping him from walking any further towards Lydia knowing well that she could never leave if the two werewolves began killing each other.

"Hey look, half of the Wonder Twins is here." Isaac spoke up, stepping up to start a fight when Allison got in between the two werewolves. The look on her face told Isaac to calm down and hold back but he didn't really care about what she wanted now. "What do you want with Lydia?" Isaac leaned a bit to the side, making Allison realize that the kanima venom was still affecting him. "Something Deucalion put you up to?" he taunted Ethan, making it sound like Deucalion was making Ethan do his bidding.

Allison had enough, glaring at Isaac. "Stop it!" her voice held so much authority that both of the boys fell quiet and looked at her, waiting for her to tell them what to do next. Allison faced her best friend, who was busy trying to understand what was happening. Finally seeing that Ethan and Isaac aren't going to murder each other, Allison stepped away from them and pulled Lydia to a side. "Listen, Lydia, I need you to go with Ethan to convince Aiden to stop helping Kali with killing Derek." Isaac seemingly snapped out of his trance, realizing what Allison was trying to convince Lydia to do.

Isaac shook his head. "She's not going anywhere with him." Allison recognized the protectiveness in him, remembering the shock on his face when Lydia kissed Jackson to help him finally transform into a werewolf. She couldn't really blame Isaac because it was really hard not to love Lydia.

Ethan gave Isaac a look. "It's not like I'm planning to hurt her." Ethan spat at Isaac, pointing his finger at the beta accusingly. "This is actually good for your pack, don't you know? I'm helping your pack by saving your alpha," Isaac gritted his teeth and gave Ethan a snarl, his eyes narrowing down at the alpha.

Isaac stepped forward, his stance dangerously poised for an attack. "Derek's not my alpha."

All of a sudden, there was a loud scream and Allison ducked low and covered her ears. She looked up to see Lydia screaming at the two. "Listen, if you're all going to squabble like chicken, then I'm going to leave you." Lydia took the box of Kleenex from behind the counters and wiped the runny mascara that dried on her face after she stopped crying an hour ago. "But since neither of us," Lydia pointed to herself and to Allison, who was slowly getting up, her ears still ringing from the scream. "Sorry." Allison waved it off, letting her best friend know that it was okay. Lydia looked at Ethan and Isaac again, her soft expression gone. "Were given the wonderful gift of lycanthropy, we'll need your help."

Allison nodded, the ringing and pounding in her ear finally gone. "Lydia's right." Allison grabbed her bag, earning a watchful look from Isaac. "We'll need to stop the Darach and stop Kali from killing Derek," Allison looked at her phone, flashing the screen to see the time. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Allison turned to Isaac. "When's Deaton and Stiles getting back? We'll need as much help as we can get." Allison tried to ignore the pain in her chest when she remembered who usually took charge in situations like these.

Lydia made a small squeak, like she was guilty of something and Isaac's mouth formed a small o. "Well, last I heard from Deaton was that he tried making it look like an accident with him," Allison nodded, appreciating the effort that Isaac didn't say Scott's name. "He's been taking care of the paperwork with Scott at the hospital's morgue. He'll probably be done in a few more hours." Allison nodded, looking at Isaac to tell him to continue but he didn't.

"What about Stiles?" Allison pressed, dialing her phone to give Stiles a call to join them.

"Stiles is missing." Lydia piped up, Allison in shock to even notice that the she had ended the call. "When he woke up, he was devastated and I couldn't really be there for him, not when I thought I was going to lose you, too," it occurred to Allison that she was gone for a very long time. They probably thought that she was staying with Scott. "So he left, I don't know where." Lydia bent her head down, looking at the floor as if she was hoping that it would swallow her whole to disappear.

Realizing that it probably wasn't the time, Allison walked past Lydia, going back into the examination room, seeing piles of clothes in the corner. "Which one is Stiles' and. . .his?" Allison couldn't bring herself to say his name, not when it still hurt. Isaac pointed to one of the pile and Allison remembered the jacket she bought for Scott. Dropping to her knees, she started searching the clothes and felt something inside the jeans' pockets, which turned out to be Scott's phone.

Finding what she needed, Allison turned the phone on and waited for it to boot up. "What do you need with Scott's phone?" Isaac asked as the phone finally displayed the welcoming screen. "What are you doing?"

Tapping on one of the applications, Allison tapped a password, her fingers faltering for a second knowing that both the username and the pass code was her name. "Um, Scott had a tracking chip placed on Stiles' jeep after he was kidnapped by my grandfather." The screen loaded, leaving Allison impatient to see where Stiles was. "Wouldn't be surprised if Scott made Danny make a whole set for all of us." Allison felt that saying his name was both comforting and painful at the same time.

Allison showed the phone to everyone and displayed a list of names that could be tracked as the location was loading.

Lydia nodded, as if she realized something. "So that's why I saw Danny lurking around my car like some sort of lunatic!" Ethan almost cracked a smile.

Allison saw her name and looked at the date beside it. It was the day of the meet, when they had to stay at the Glen Capri. Scott had placed the chip on her car then. Finally the screen showed coordinates and a pin-point location. "Latitude is 37.7749295 and the longitude is negative 122.4194155," Allison copied the text and exited the app, opened a search engine to search where it was. The internet page was still loading when when Lydia spoke up.

"Beacon Hills Preserve. Stiles is at the Beacon Hills Preserve." Lydia said it like it was common knowledge. "Come on, boys," Lydia chastised, narrowing her eyes at their shock. "If I know Archaic Latin, then it shouldn't come as a surprise for any of you that I know how to plot and pin-point places with coordinates."

Allison nodded, understanding what Stiles was doing there. "He's found our parents." Lydia nodded, leading the way to the door when Isaac grabbed Stiles' shirt and sniffed it. "Got a lock on his scent?" Isaac nodded, throwing the shirt back into the pile before heading outside, opening the door for when when Allison shook her head. "I'm taking the bike," Isaac's eyes widened, understanding why she chose the bike over her own car.

"So, where to first?" Isaac asked, heading to Allison's car and opening the door to the driver's seat.

As much as Allison wanted to charge into war, she's realized that Isaac was right earlier and she was being reckless. She wouldn't survive a minute out there without weapons, even if the lunar eclipse rendered the werewolves of Beacon Hills powerless. There was still a Darach who drew power from a recently charged Nemeton whose new energy source came from a young werewolf, possible true alpha.

"My place." Nodding, Isaac closed the door and Lydia got in the back.

Getting on the bike, Allison started the engine and gripped the throttle when Ethan came up to her again. "You told me you're trying to stop Scott." Allison caught on to his words, careful not to divulge important information.

Allison shook her head, securing the helmet on her head but left the face shield up. "I didn't really say anything about Scott." Ethan nodded, giving her credit for that. "And I asked where Deucalion was, I didn't ask about where Scott was." Allison kept avoiding key points but it was useless because Ethan knew what she was hiding.

Ethan sniffed the air around Allison. "Distinct smell of a werewolf." Allison realized her mistake when she left the face shield up. "Scott has this unique scent, you know? Something like a cocktail of cheap cologne, shower gel, lacrosse gear, and sweat." Ethan pointed to the clinic. "You guys didn't mention him much back in there, and his scent's all over the place mixed with a touch of his blood." Allison faced Ethan, her face stony when he made the connection. "I'm sorry for your loss." Ethan placed a hand on her shoulder before he left and got on the passenger seat of the car behind her.

With her heart pounding against her chest, Allison rode off into the road, surprisingly good for someone who's never ridden a motorcycle as a passenger, let alone as the one driving it. Revving the engine, Allison focused on the the sound the motorcycle gave to distract her from her beating heart when she finally reached her apartment building, her eyebrows raised when she noticed the lack of parking spots. A gut feeling told her that something was wrong but she couldn't exactly point what it was.

Taking her time in taking the helmet off of her head, Allison heard the doors of a car behind her open. "This way," Allison lead the way to the elevator, pressing the button for the lift, but she noticed the change of atmosphere, the tension that hung thick in the air whenever Isaac opened his mouth to try and ask a question but ended up just staying quiet. Eventually, Allison had enough of him and his pacing around the elevator. "What is it? What's wrong?" Allison snapped, finally.

Removing his gaze from the ground, Isaac looked up to see Allison. She knew that he sensed her irritation and that she wanted nothing more than to charge on the battlefield and exact her revenge on the Darach. "It's nothing, it's just," Isaac turned to Ethan. Allison sensed that both the werewolves were troubled but Ethan hid it better than Isaac. "It's just so familiar. Different, but so familiar," Isaac's eyes were closed as he breathed in deep, trying to concentrate on whatever scent he and Ethan could pick up.

Ethan nodded, closing his eyes as he breathed the scent in. "Smells like McCall, actually." The words were out of his mouth sooner than he could realize his mistake but the damage was already done. Allison turned her back on them and faced the button panel, gritting her teeth as she calmed her breathing. The memory of his death rang fresh and clear in her mind that almost any kind of reminder was like salt to an open wound. Despite not having super-werewolf powers, Allison knew that Ethan's hand was stretched forward, faltering every inch wondering if comforting her would do any real change. "I'm sorry." Nobody reacted to Ethan knowing the truth and frankly, Allison stopped caring.

Lydia kept quiet and stood in complete silence, not wanting to get involved because she was already hurting. "But he's right." Isaac muttered, his eyes narrowed at the elevator doors, waiting for the prominent 'ding' that would sound to signal that they've reached her apartment and her floor. "The scent, it does smell like him," Allison wanted to glare at him, to tell him to stop but he was saved by bell, the metal doors opening.

"Do you have some people over at your place?" Ethan asked, stepping forward as the metal doors slowly parted to give way. "Because I can hear multiple heartbeats, and they're in your apartment." The elevator doors finally opened only to reveal two buff looking men, wearing FBI-issued badges inspecting her foyer.

Allison stepped out of the elevator and tried entering her apartment but she was stopped by the two Sheriff's Deputies. "What are you doing here?" Allison's questions were ignored and disregarded as she was continued to be denied entrance to her own apartment. Trying to see through the small gap, Allison saw little but it was enough to know that her father's fire arms and weapons were being rounded up.

Allison tried fighting her way in but the Deputies didn't budge. "Hey, isn't that Argent's kid?" a voice was heard from the inside of the apartment. Isaac and Ethan shared a look and the moment didn't go unnoticed, but Allison kept staring at the door, wondering who the person inside her apartment was as countless theories streamed her head—maybe some of her more. . .extremist relatives caught wind of her fraternizing with the enemy.

One of the Deputies, the guy who looked a lot like Tony Blair, recognized her from a speeding ticket. "Yeah, this is her!" one of the two windbreakers held a hand out and asked for a valid ID. Sighing, Allison grabbed her wallet and took her license out, giving it to a Deputy before he disappeared back into the apartment.

There was a bit of a rustle and Allison was tempted to just kick the door open when the Deputy returned. "Send them in!" the mystery man yelled again and soon, Allison found herself in the living room, her father's weapons displayed on the coffee table like it was merchandise for sale in the mall. "Allison Argent," the man's badge had letters way too small for her to read. "Your father's got quite the arsenal, young lady," the FBI agent drummed a dagger on his palm and he looked across the room, letting everyone see the rounded-up weapons that belonged to her father.

Ignoring the look on the man's face that probably meant trouble, Allison stepped forward. "What are you doing here?" Allison started to feel like a broken plate, repeating her every word so often lately.

The FBI agent looked at Allison was if it was the most obvious question and that the answer was sitting in front of her. "Following one of the only leads I have." The agent flashed a folder with bold letters spelling out 'ARGENT, C.' beside a picture of her father's face before he cleared out some of the flashbang arrows on the couch. "Now, since I don't know where you've been, why don't you have a seat." Allison took a seat, Ethan and Lydia following suit while Isaac just stood by the side. "You too, Isaac."

Isaac sat plopped down beside her and Lydia, Allison noticing that he was still watching the FBI agent. "How do you know my name?" Isaac asked warily.

"Your name's one of the few things I know," the man said while putting the dagger inside a box, almost tripping over the carpet but the man had gripped the edge of the cabinet near him, saving him from a fall. "To be honest, the rest of what's going on around here has me stumbling in the dark, even over the smallest clue." Lydia scoffed, laughing a humorless laugh before narrowing her eyes at the man, raising her head to prove a point.

Allison watched her best friend as she targeted the man, realizing that Lydia knew the FBI agent. "If you're trying to tell us that you don't have a clue, the kids of Beacon Hills Elementary School has learned that a long time ago, especially Scott," the agent sucked in a breath and nodded as if Lydia had a point while Allison mentally berated herself for not noticing earlier—Ethan and Isaac picking up a scent similar to Scott's; the warm and doughy brown, puppy-dog eyes; Lydia knowing the man and mentioning her elementary school; he's an agent for the FBI. . .the man in front of them is Rafe McCall, Scott's Dad.

Agent McCall looked like he had remembered something when he looked at Lydia. "You're Lydia Martin, aren't you? Natalie's kid," Lydia's silence was seemingly enough for the agent as an answer. "Red hair's a give-away," he said, muttering under her breath when Stiles' voice popped up in her mind.

Allison squirmed, shifting and changing her position. "Strawberry blonde, actually," she and Isaac said at the same time.

Agent McCall hummed, nodding as if he remembered something. "I see you've found yourself a new admirer," he pointed at Isaac before he cleared the seat in front of them and sat down. "But I'm much more interested in your old one, Stiles Stilinski, and his usual partner in crime, Scott," Allison realized how hard it must have been for Scott. The agent would always put his job first and being a father second.

"You're his father, shouldn't you know?" Lydia quipped a dry and witty remark that seemed to have affected the agent heavily. Allison didn't know much about Scott's father or why he had left, but seeing Lydia being so offensive and protective of Scott made her wonder what had happened.

The shocked look on the agent's face didn't go unnoticed. It was obviously a blow on him, Allison saw enough to realize that. Seeing that Scott has never mentioned anything about his father, Allison realized that Lydia made a hit below the belt to remind the special agent that he was both unwanted as a father and an absent one at that.

Agent McCall sucked in a breath of air. "Miss Martin, may I remind you that I'm a special agent working for the government and that withholding information regarding particular details or the whereabouts of a person in question during an active investigation is, in fact, against the law?" taking a moment to himself, Allison found herself under the watchful eye of the agent. "So you could help me out a little here, kids. Because despite being disturbed by the alarming number of parents missing, but also because they're linked together—your father, Sheriff Stilinski, and my ex-wife."

Isaac shrugged at Scott's father, Allison noticing the struggle he's going through. "Mine are both dead." Isaac offered coolly.

Agent McCall gave waved it off like it was a well-practiced line. "Save the clichéd, teenage apathy for your high school teachers." Allison knew, from that point on, that Scott had a very good reason not to mention his father. "Because if any of you haven't noticed it, we're not exactly making any progress."

Lydia snapped, standing up maybe to prove a point. "Then do something about it instead of keeping us in here!" Allison noticed that her best friend's perfectly manicured nails were digging into her palm. "That's your job, isn't it?" Lydia remarked dryly.

Agent McCall pinched the bridge of his nose before sighing, his hands abruptly placing themselves on his waist. "I'm really hoping to avoid the embarrassment of dragging Natalie Martin's kid, my godson, and my very own son into an interrogation room." Agent McCall gave them a look that begged them to cooperate. "Really hoping." He breathed out.

One of the Sheriff's Deputies came into the living room approached Agent McCall. They talked in hushed tones, making Allison wonder about what they were talking about. Leaning in to her side, she asked Isaac about the exchange. "It's about Stiles, they're worried because a camera caught his jeep disappearing into the preserve and now they have another missing person." Allison nodded, turning her head only to see Agent McCall leaving the room and telling them to stay put.

Standing up, Allison raced up to the door, blocking the agent's path. "You can't keep us here," she said, looking to the others who nodded in agreement despite being met with a look from Scott's father. "Not without some kind of warrant." Allison added which caused Agent McCall to head back into the middle of the living room to hold up some of the pistols he's confiscated.

Agent McCall laughed humorlessly as he placed the pistol back on the coffee table. "I've got a desk full of probable causes." For a moment, Allison couldn't think of a retort. Agent McCall looked at her expectantly, waiting for some kind of protest before he sighed and went straight for the door when Allison remembered purgatory and the Nemeton, how her mother was explaining her father's job and the reason they kept moving around so much that they can't keep to one place.

One place except Beacon Hills for that matter, Allison thought to her herself. But then Allison remembered Scott and realized it was all worth it. Meeting Scott and experiencing what she felt with him easily made everything worth it.

Finding new confidence within herself she stared at the weapons that sat across her inside the room. "My father is highly respected private security consultant and a federally licensed firearms dealer." Allison echoed her mother, letting her fingers graze a few of the weapons on the cabinet near her. "That means he has to own a few weapons," Allison picked up a crossbow lying across the sofa they sat on. "Like this 175-pound draw tactical crossbow," Allison aim the bow at the wall before setting it down, picking up a reflective blade near her. "Or this carbon steel Marine combat knife," Allison placed it down, picking up a smoke grenade with one hand and a pistol with the other.

Allison displayed it in front of the agent before going to her friends. The other agents and deputies came into the room, asking what was taking Agent McCall so long to leave. Allison tried to hide the growing smirk on her face.

Allison brandished the gun in her hand. "50AE Desert Eagle," discreetly, Allison passed the gun to Lydia. Slowly, they moved towards the corner near the exit and the door where Allison placed most of the weapons she used as examples. "Smoke grenade with pull ring igniter," Allison held the small can up before swiftly pulling on the ring and tossing it on the ground near the agents and the deputies, smoke quickly filling up the room as she and her friends grabbed their weapons and head out to the elevator, leaving the law enforcers blind in the smoke.

Ignoring the elevator music, Allison took the QSZ-92 from Isaac's hand and shoved it into Ethan's chest. Fishing the combat knife she had hid under her shirt earlier, Allison took Lydia's hands and handed the blade to her. Lydia, in turn, gave Allison the crossbow and a few flashbang arrows Ethan had pocketed earlier from the living room.

The elevator stopped moving and the sounded before the doors grew apart, showing the parking lot. Heading towards the bike, Isaac stopped for a moment, and cursed. "Shit!" he hissed, fishing his phone from a pocket. Allison noticed it vibrating, giving off a tune repeatedly. "The alarm, we've only got a few more minutes before the eclipse." Allison ran towards the bike and took the key from the hub of the wheel before tossing it to Ethan.

A look of confusion was stretched along Ethan's face when Allison walked towards the her Toyota sedan. "Give Lydia the helmet," Isaac got inside the car, taking the driver's seat when Ethan just stood in the parking lot, confused. "The preserve is near here and so is the distillery. Derek's place is farther so you'll need to be very fast," taking the helmet from Ethan, Allison placed almost didn't give the helmet to Lydia because she's afraid that it would lose Scott's scent afterwards. "Go!"

Running back to the passenger seat, Allison got in and closed the door just in time to see Ethan and Lydia riding away, headed towards Derek's loft. "We're going to the Distillery." Isaac nodded and pumped on the pedal, the car surging forward. Allison saw Scott's motorcycle disappear into the distance when Isaac took a sharp turn as per her instructions, heading towards a clearing near the Nemeton and near the distillery.

"Something's not right," Isaac muttered, pointing out that there was nothing there. Allison thought long and hard, trying to remember if Scott said anything about a meeting point or if Ethan mentioned another place other than the distillery. "Where're the alphas?" Isaac asked a question to no one in particular, not helping the heavy feeling that made itself unbearable in Allison's stomach.

Allison looked back at the her phone and the time that bore a hole in her face. She fought the urge to cry because she needed to be strong, not weak. Allison didn't afford the luxury of crying and mistakes at the moment so she breathed in deep before she gripped the door handle only to realize that it was locked and she couldn't get out of the car.

"What are you doing?" Allison asked sharply, venom laced in her voice. "We have to go!"

Isaac shook his head and pointed to the car's clock. It was a few minutes behind her phone. "I changed the time on your phone when we were in your apartment and I made the alarm before we got on the elevator." Allison gave him a pointed look but he just shrugged. "Figured that you'd have some sort of emotional crisis before rushing into the battlefield." Allison tried opening the door again but to no avail.

Honestly, she felt like crying.

"It's okay to cry." Isaac muttered, the comment completely out of character. "Scott told me once, after the whole kanima thing with Jackson, that it was okay to cry." Allison realized that she didn't know about this probably because she was away that time, probably on a plane to France or that she was probably already there, meeting with the distant cousins. "He took me to visit my Dad's grave, told me it was to okay cry, that I've been strong for too long or something like that. Told me to scream and it made me feel better." The doors clicked and Isaac stepped outside, only to appear in front of Allison's door.

Grabbing Allison's wrist, Isaac took her to the clearing. "What are you—" Allison was cut off mid-sentence when Isaac took her in the middle of the clearing, crossing his arms like she knew what she was supposed to do. "Isaac, we don't have time," Allison was losing her patience, starting to get really annoyed at the fact that she sounded like a broken plate.

Isaac waved it off. "Not a good enough reason," despite the words being said in Isaac's dismissive and broody voice, Allison couldn't help but remember Scott when they were still in purgatory. "Besides, we can spare a minute or two to—" Allison cut him off, the heavy feeling in her chest exploding into sobs and yells that made her want to curl up into a ball and die somewhere. Allison couldn't blame Isaac because he couldn't possibly know, but of all the words he could choose from the English vocabulary, he had to choose one of the words Scott said last to her.

There was a grunt from Isaac, a word that sounded like finally or something like that. "To what? To list off reasons why I'm suddenly not enough of a reason for people to stay? That a stupid code is apparently more important than being a there for your daughter? That I'm not enough for Scott to even try and fight for his life to stay? That I'm not enough to convince anyone to stay?" tears streaked her face and Allison could guarantee that she didn't look all glamorous.

Dropping to her knees, Allison sobbed her heart out. Isaac went to her, crouched down and enveloped her in his arms. "You're more than enough." He said curtly. Allison knew that he meant well, that he wanted to make her feel better but it did nothing to lift her spirits.

Helping her up to her feet, Isaac lead her to the passenger seat of her Toyota and got in the driver's seat beside her. Strapping on the seat belt on her, Isaac started the engine and the car soon moved through the woods. "Ethan actually told me where Deucalion was waiting for Scott." Allison recognized the trail Isaac was driving on and realized that they were going to the rise that overlooked Beacon Hills.

After minutes of silence, they reached a spot near the rise, seeing a figure that stood way too near the cliff. "Thanks for that." Allison muttered under her breath, knowing that Isaac could hear her. Unstrapping his seat belt, Isaac sighed, breathing in deep when Allison faced the door to avoid his stares.

There was tension in the air as Isaac drummed his fingers against the strap of his seat belt. "I know that we can never be what we could have been," Isaac said, almost wistfully. "That I can never really like you in that way but I hope you know that you're pack," Isaac nodded, as if what he was saying should convince him, too. "Yeah, you're pack."

It wasn't much, what Isaac told her, but the meaning it held gave her relief. She's pack—Scott would do anything and everything for his pack and knowing that she isn't this liability to be always considered, that she is part of the pack she helped create, helped lift off a heavy weight in her chest. But then again, the pain in her heart came back when she remembered that she wouldn't be enough.

Enough.

Giving him a tight smile, Allison stepped out of the car, feeling the cold and crisp wind collide against her face as she walked up towards Deucalion. "Ah," a very British voice rang in the air. "Miss Argent, what pleasure having you to join me." Allison could see the alpha much clearly now, the metal walking cane reflected moon's light as Deucalion sniffed the air. "While I'm quite sorry for your loss, I can't help but say that I'm disappointed with the replacement I've been given." Deucalion looked up, as if he could see anything much with his vision. "See, I was under the impression that the deal I've conducted was with a werewolf well on his way to become a true alpha and not a huntress who," Deucalion turned to face her, his red eyes still peaking though his shades, "admittedly needs several sessions with a therapist to discuss healthy life-decisions."

Despite the comment on her, Allison ignored Deucalion's obvious distaste in her. "Where are the other alphas?" Allison remembered the initial shock when she first heard of the news of Scott joining Deucalion. She spent a good time trying to reach his cell, sending text messages and leaving messages in his voicemail trying to convince him to drop Deucalion because how can she trust someone who calls himself 'Death, destroyer of worlds' to keep his word that he won't turn on Scott?

But with Scott's sacrifice powering the Nemeton, handling Jennifer is too much for them. They are, after all, just teenagers. So, while Allison hated the compromising agreement Scott made with Deucalion and the dangers it came with, she came to realize that it was a necessary evil they needed to defeat the Darach once and for all.

Deucalion nodded, as if he knew what she was thinking. "As much as I am offended that you think so low of me, I'll have you know that Scott and I would have made a surprisingly good team together. And while I'm quite certain you won't have the power of a true alpha in the making, I think we can manage with a huntress with performance issues," Allison looked at him pointedly. Deucalion nodded, chuckling at the chemo-signal he probably picked up from her. "As for my pack, well, they're occupying themselves with other pursuits." Deucalion finally answered her question, leading her down the familiar dirt road trail with Isaac behind them.

Looking around her, seeing the moon up in the sky, Allison grimaced. "So it's just us then? Only the three of us against the Darach, who's conveniently drawing power from the Nemeton? The three of us, where I'm the only person armed against a powerful druid whose power is heightened by the lunar eclipse while you two," Allison pointed to both the werewolves, raising her voice to make sure Isaac heard, "are left powerless." Allison wondered again, despite knowing that a deal with Deucalion is a necessary evil, if it was actually worth it. She wondered if Scott knew that before staying behind in purgatory.

Deucalion waved Allison off, ignoring her worried ranting. "Come on, Miss Argent, put those doubts away. I'd have to be blind, deaf, and a quadriplegic for any of you to be an actual threat, including your anemic werewolf with trust issues and even your former star-player the true alpha in the making." Isaac jogged up to them, walking beside Allison with a pointed look on his face.

Isaac huffed, taking a look at his skin. "I'm not anemic." Isaac defended.

Deucalion chuckled, nodding as he used his walking cane and tapped the ground repeatedly. "Yes, forgive me. Just a boy who never really spent much time under the sun because he spent half his childhood locked inside a freezer." Isaac sucked in a breath of air as Allison stared at Deucalion who went ahead and reached the distillery.

Reaching the door to the distillery, Isaac huffed and raised his collar, his breath fogging up. "Someone is going to buy me a scarf. I should have brought my scarf," he muttered and Deucalion gave him a look when Allison remembered Stiles, how he's never really replied to any of the text messages she sent earlier. Allison turned to Isaac, giving him a look. "What?" he asked, his tone hitting a somewhat higher note as if he's asking what he's done wrong.

"You have to go help Stiles. Find him and our parents first." Isaac stepped forward, his face showing both reluctance and hesitation. Allison didn't blame him because Deucalion was unpredictable and impulsive. "I'll be fine here, but I need you to find our parents and Stiles," she stressed their friend's name, making it abundantly clear that there was a reason why Stiles never made an attempt to contact them. Allison saw Isaac slowly caving in, his face still showing reluctance, though.

Taking her into his arms, Isaac breathed slowly. "I'll come back for you when I can. Be careful." They broke apart and Allison nodded before Isaac walked out the doors, though he still lingered by the door frame.

Eventually, Deucalion crossed the room, standing beside Allison with both his hands resting on the knob of his cane. "Off you go, now," Deucalion said, his voice held this level of charm that left everyone uneasy. Isaac walked out of the distillery, though he stopped in his tracks, giving Allison a look. "I'd hate for the guardians and one Stiles Stilinski to manage without your dreary, scarf-driven presence," Deucalion called out, smirking when Isaac turned around and gave him the finger.

Allison just looked at Deucalion, wondering if he saw or knew what Isaac did to him.

After a hearty chuckle, Deucalion breathed out. "Ah, kids these days," Allison's question was answered. "So impulsive and easily angered—here," Deucalion faced Allison, handing her a cellphone. At first, Allison had no idea why Deucalion gave her the phone. A part of her wondered if Deucalion was just messing with Isaac, that maybe his telling him off was just a test and that Isaac had failed. Allison thought that Deucalion wanted her to call Isaac back to help fight off Jennifer, but then he sighed inwardly and groaned. "Jennifer is easily angered and impulsive," Deucalion pressed a button and soon, there was a ringing sound.

Realizing that it was a video-call, Allison held it in front of her face before shooting Deucalion a curious look, letting her hand and the phone fall to her side. "And you want me to just call her?" Allison asked, her voice incredulous.

Shaking his head, Deucalion took Allison's hand into his, raised the phone and turned the screen to face her. "Don't just call her. Taunt her," facing the door, hearing the wind whistle louder as the minutes passed, Deucalion fixed his jaw as Allison waited for Jennifer to answer. "Dangle the one thing she's fighting for—play her in her own game by threatening to take away what she's been dying and murdering just to achieve," Deucalion hissed the last part, whispered in hushed tones that made Allison's stomach churn and her vision darkened.

Allison knew that she shouldn't let Deucalion bait her along just like that, to play her feelings to his advantage but she couldn't help but be moved and be ruled by her emotions. He's right, after all, Jennifer did murder her way to get her revenge. Jennifer murdered Scott, an innocent bystander who just wanted to protect the people he loved, a person—a boy, just a teenager—who had nothing to do with her sob story. That fact alone fueled the darkness inside Allison.

The video-call was ignored so Allison, with a steely face, decided to record herself, showing the distillery first. "See this?" Allison walked up to the wall, showing a pattern carved by a werewolf. The moonlight was passing through the little holes and Allison caught the angle where the whole symbol was visible. "This is a symbol of revenge," Allison almost didn't recognize her voice, the sheer coldness and lack of empathy, how it's void of any kind of emotion would have scared Allison under normal circumstances. This, Allison thought to herself, is not a normal circumstance.

Turning the camera to her face, Allison stared at the lens like it was Jennifer's scarred face. White, hot rage filled Allison when she remembered how Scott's touch felt. She remembered the little details now, how his muscles would relax whenever he'd hear her voice, how his arms are perfectly wrapped around her to keep her warm. Jennifer took Scott away from Allison and now, she's more than ready to take away whatever it is she holds dearest and closest to this world.

A cold sneer played on Allison's lips as she tried to keep herself strong, as she tried to keep her composure in check. The last thing she wanted was to show Jennifer that she was weak, that she couldn't possibly avenge Scott. "You talk about balance, about saving people," the words sounded foreign when they rolled off her tongue despite it being the main goal of her pack and her alpha. But Allison spat the words bitterly at the camera, her eyes steely as ever.

Allison wanted to give Jennifer a piece of her mind but the phone was snatched out of her hands before she could even react. Deucalion held the phone in front of his face, the camera aimed at him. "We know what you really want, to throw a little temper tantrum to place the blame on others and justify what you've done." Deucalion remained calm, like a Roman general surveying and analyzing the enemy. "Are you ready, Jennifer? Did you gather your herbs and pray to your ancient earth and oak gods?" Deucalion taunted, his voice becoming more menacing that held a charm that would have had Allison left uneasy if she weren't consumed. "Perhaps you've slit a baby's throat? Was the infant a first born or the seventh son of a seventh son?" Deucalion dropped the phone on the ground.

Allison was shocked, at first. A part of her said that maybe the phone had slipped through his hands. Allison shook her head at that thought. That was Deucalion, a blind alpha who could defeat the Hale pack within a matter of minutes.

"You know where we are now," Deucalion faced the ground, both of his hands now wrapped around the knob of his walking cane. "Should we show the world why you needed to sacrifice, 9 innocent people just to face me? Or is it 12 now?" Deucalion said with a sneer before he stomped on the phone, the screen cracking with LED leaking.

Allison didn't have to wait long for Jennifer to get their little message, appearing with back-up of her own in the form of Derek Hale.

Anger surged through Allison as she remembered her mother. Her mother may have killed herself because of the Code, but Derek Hale bit her. And now, after Scott's death, he's fraternizing with the enemy. A part of Allison wondered if he even cared if Scott had died—or if he knew that Scott had died in the first place.

"What are you doing?" Allison asked Derek, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt even if her vision ran red and her trigger finger itched to kill the werewolf in front of her.

"This might be hard to believe, but I'm trying to help you," Derek said calmly, as if trying to understand where she was coming from. A part of Allison wanted to believe that he knew about Scott, that he was doing this because she had lost Scott but she couldn't bring herself to do the impossible.

Deucalion looked amused, or at least that was what Allison thought he was when he gave the enlightened 'ah' sound. "To think that Scott would have been the one circling around with Derek Hale!" Allison was almost sure that if Scott was the one in her place, Deucalion would have been cheering like a madman for his football team. "Just think about it—brother against brother—how very American this battle is," Allison gritted her teeth when she remembered who Derek was.

Hale. Peter Hale.

He ruined Scott's life.

Hale. Derek Hale.

He killed her Mom. He ruined her life.

Allison charged at Derek, Deucalion by her side as they quickly subdued him, moving forward to Jennifer who tried to blast magic spells. Allison could see from her face, that crestfallen expression and her mouth that hung open in disbelief, that she expected it to work like a charm. Allison remembered the other alphas, how they were preoccupied with other things. A thought ran in her mind—were they trying to kill Jennifer on their own?

Now on the floor with Derek, Allison stood over them, towering like some kind of skyscraper along NYC's skyline. The urge to kill mellowed down after having beaten them to a pulp when Deucalion descended on her side like a vampire instead of a werewolf. "Kill her. Do it." Allison had her guns pointed at Jennifer but she hesitated. Would Scott want her to be like that again? To go dark and just snap? Allison shook her head, lowering her gun at the already unconscious Darach. Deucalion growled, placing his hands at the crook of her neck as he stood behind her, forcefully turning her head towards the opened gate. "That storm you're hearing? That's her burying your parents alive—it's her connection to the Telluric currents," whispering on her ear like the Devil pushing her towards the path of temptation, Allison inched forward, her gun raised again all of a sudden.

With her gun raised and Jennifer practically at her mercy, Allison wanted to shoot at least 50 rounds of bullets into her body even after she went limp. There was this sickening urge that pulled at her gut, telling her to grab her knife and go wild at the seemingly defeated Darach at her feet. The part of Allison that shut off her humanity wanted to use the knife to carve on Jennifer's skin, rip out her heart so that she could feel the pain brought by Scott's death. That part of her almost won, actually, because Allison got on her knees, her gun still in her hand.

Crouching beside her, Deucalion sneered at Jennifer. "Kill her, and it all ends," for a second, for a single moment, Allison believed him. A thought passed through her mind, how her world was turned upside down, and almost everything she made herself believe during her stay in France was shattered. In front of her was the Darach responsible for ruining her life, for taking the one person who had the ability to help her see things in a better way or get her through a horrible day.

Allison saw black. She saw the darkness within her and soon, she saw the blood that would stain her hands. Allison saw herself plunging the knife on Jennifer's chest, giving in wounds the damage she felt her mind carried. It was probably her murderous emotions that woke Jennifer up, the firm plan she had that voiced out her need to kill the now conscious Darach.

Jennifer couched, doubling over in pain when Deucalion kicked her square in the stomach. "No, it won't," Jennifer shook her head when Deucalion stood in front of her, his brows furrowed as if telling her to finish the job. "Not with me." Deucalion growled as kicked Jennifer again, causing blood to trickle down her lip. "He'll have you kill everyone you love—it's what he does," Jennifer had a hard and steely gaze on her face and Allison knew that she was thinking about Deucalion.

Deucalion's chest heaved, his head had darted towards Jennifer. Eventually, he spoke up, his voice held some kind of charm or firm authority that compelled Allison to do whatever it was he wanted her to do. "They're dying, Allison, your father and your best friends' parents just because this delusional, earth-worshiping, psychotic murderer couldn't deal with life." Taking Jennifer's neck, Deucalion propped it up, steadying her squirming head so that Allison could get a shot at her.

But Allison didn't move, her expression morphed into nothing different. Allison looked nothing different but her thoughts were a mess. Allison's mind was in shambles, everything in complete and utter chaos that made no sense.

Deucalion's jaws had clenched, his grip on Jennifer's neck had tightened. "She killed Scott, Allison." Scott's name was like a trigger that made Allison snap. "This pathetic magician is a prey needed to be hunt down by a huntress, Allison." Throwing Jennifer's face to a side, Deucalion went up to her side and whispered hauntingly. "Don't be powerless, don't be the same failure who couldn't save Scott." Taking Allison's gun, Deucalion guided her towards Jennifer and pressed the pistol against the Darach's forehead.

Allison's breathing hitched and for a moment, it stopped altogether.

"Live up to your ancestor's name that killed the first werewolf! Live up to your Argent name and kill nature's abomination! Hunt the supernatural as it's what you have to do!" Deucalion's face morphed into an unrecognizable expression and within a blink of an eye, he was no longer there and was, instead, replaced by her mother and aunt.

"Become a killer!" they said, their voices in sync that made for a scary tone, reminding her of how she acted when she first found out about the supernatural and how she almost killed her friends when her mother died. Allison bit her lip because she wanted to become one, but she remembered Scott and how he was so against killing. Memories flooded her mind as events replayed, how she was so hell-bent on killing Derek's pack and everyone who sided with him.

Allison's teeth chattered as she steadied her resolve, aiming her gun at Jennifer's head when her hand shook. Memories replayed in her mind as Gerard's voice began to fill her head. "Not now, sweetheart," Allison gritted her teeth, trying to stop her lips from trembling when she tried to aim at the Darach, telling herself that it was justified, killing her. But Deucalion reminded her of Gerard and whenever Allison was reminded of her grandfather, she was reminded of how easily manipulated she was. She was brainwashed to do someone else's bidding and it had cost her so much.

Suddenly, Allison was knocked off her feet and was suddenly on the ground, pain throbbing by the side of her head as blood trickled down her cheek. Deucalion had hit her.

Deucalion growled, yelling at her as he stood in front of the Jennifer. Allison wanted to give in, to just turn off her humanity but she couldn't bring herself to fire a single shot at the Darach despite her gut telling her to. "Stupid girl!" Deucalion sneered at her, grabbing her hand and pulling her up, taking the pistol forcefully and began shooting the Darach. With Jennifer's whimpering, Deucalion took Allison's hand and placed the pistol on her palm, the cold steel colliding against her warm skin. "Perhaps," Allison fought against Deucalion as he directed the pistol towards Jennifer. "All you need is a little bit of guidance!" Allison felt his finger against the steel, closing her eyes to brace herself for the sound but it never came.

For a second, Allison considered shooting so that everything will be over but she never pulled the trigger.

Soon, Deucalion's rigid body was gone and a more protective warmth enveloped her. Gone was the force that dragged her hand upwards, the power that made her aim at Jennifer. Instead, it was replaced with muscular arms that embraced her and protected her against whatever it was that killed her from the inside. "You're not a killer, Allison." The familiar voice brought Allison to tears, the comforting tone that gave Allison the ability to just give in and break.

"Scott. . ." she cried, sinking to her feet.

"We're not killers, Allison," Scott broke from apart from the embrace, moving towards Jennifer. "We don't kill people, Allison," Scott looked at Jennifer and gave her a sympathetic look. Allison held back a sob. "We don't hunt the people who hunt us," Scott took her hands into his and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-même." It was weird for Allison to hear that not only because Scott was never fluent in French but also because she never really did tell him about her new code. "We protect those who cannot protect themselves." Now that Allison heard it from him, she realized that it was entirely like Scott to go by a code like that.

Allison breathed in deep, trying her best to hide the strain in her voice. "I can't save everyone!" she yelled, letting out the anger she's been feeling at him. "You can't save everyone because some people are just going to destroy themselves no matter how much you try to save them," Allison hated Scott because he wouldn't let her save him, wouldn't let her anchor him to life as she once did. She hated him so much for being a hero who tried to save the people around him.

Scott breathed in deep, giving her a sad smile, his thumb wiping away a tear on her cheek. "Then don't be one of those people," Allison realized, then and there, that Scott is still trying to save her from destroying herself. "I was one of those people and it destroyed me," Scott breathed out, confessing, his expression changing into something Allison couldn't read. "I tried and tried helping everyone when I couldn't, kept myself from seeing who I am when it was right in front of me, kept shouldering everything when I should have shared the burden," Scott looked up, looking at her eyes that kept her grounded and paralyzed.

"What do I do?" Allison asked Scott, her voice soft and the darkness inside her finally fading away.

Scott smiled, laughed before smiling. "You let others help you, Allison, because it's not worth it. You need a chance," Scott looked away, looking at the ground as if he was hoping that it would swallow him up whole. "It was too late for me to realize, I let the darkness in and it won. Don't let Stiles think that he did this," Scott shook his head and Allison placed a hand on his face, wanting to feel the warmth on his face. "I did this to myself. I only stopped when I had no choice, but I wouldn't change it for the world because it saved you, all of you," Allison started crying, her tears staining her face.

With her soft crying, Allison wiped away her tears. "How can you be okay with this?" Allison asked Scott because she was wondering how he was okay with everything that he's lost despite being the person who lost most. An apprenticeship with Deaton, his grades were getting better, a mother who loves him more than anything in the world, Allison wondered how he could have handled losing all of it.

"Because I can wait for the Universe to give me a second chance to make things right." Scott slowly released her hands. Allison remembered the whole kanima situation, how she broke up with Scott. "Because it's about fate and destiny. I can wait for a second chance." Allison nodded through tears. "But you have the chance to get it right on the first go," taking her hands once more, Scott pressed his lips against her knuckles. Allison felt his lips graze against her skin. "

Suddenly, the gun was on her palm again, Deucalion beside her and forcing her to shoot Jennifer. Allison didn't have super werewolf smelling, but the scent of blood was overpowering. "Kill her!" Deucalion snarled again, shifting into a wolf-man.

"Be stronger than that. Don't destroy yourself by giving in to darkness." Scott's voice rang in her head as Allison breathed in deep.

Remembering her grandfather, Allison lowered the gun and turned to face Deucalion. "I forgot to tell you something," Allison's finger fiddled with the hem of her shirt, trying so carefully as to lift up a portion of it only to reveal a pocket holding some arrows. Allison remembered that they were flashbang arrowheads that Ethan gave her. "Gerard said that 'Deucalion isn't always blind,' and while I'd like to think of it in a more metaphorical way, we both know that you can see," Allison dropped the arrowheads and soon, the room was filled with a bright light.

The lunar eclipse started and the tables have turned, the advantage suddenly given to the other team. Allison moved to a side when Deucalion was man-handled by Jennifer, who was obviously drawing power from the Nemeton, and started bashing his head against the cement underneath their feet. Turning her head to a side, Allison saw Derek giving her a look, stopping her from helping Deucalion. "What are you doing?" Allison hissed at Derek when he held her by the shoulders.

Holding a finger up to his lips, Derek pointed at Deucalion and Jennifer. "She wants her revenge." Allison gave Derek a confused look but he shook his head continued whispering in hushed tones. "Jennifer wants to show her face to Deucalion, her scarred and damaged face." Allison raised a brow, hiding behind a rusty machine.

"Isn't Deucalion blind?" Derek nodded.

"Exactly." Derek pointed at the fight and Allison saw Deucalion being held by the neck. "Hide behind this, be quiet." Derek stepped up crossed the distillery, walking towards Jennifer. "You know, he doesn't know," Derek said casually, shrugging as if it was common knowledge, what he was about to say.

"Know what?" a sneer played at Jennifer's lips, a cruel and fear-striking expression that would have sired nightmares.

Flashing his other eyes, Derek's blue eyes shone when he eyed Deucalion. Allison kept quiet, knowing well what Derek was baiting the Darach to do. "What you really look like. He knows the cost of bringing Kali in the pack but he doesn't know the price you paid." Stepping away, Derek hid behind a hay bale when Jennifer started willing the wind to her command, her face transforming into a scarred and burned skin that reminded Allison of when Scott was suicidal back at the Glen Capri.

"No. No, he hasn't," Jennifer raised Deucalion's limp head and made him stare into her scarred face, letting him absorb the damage he's done. Allison remained quiet, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Deucalsion's eyes wouldn't open, his head still lolled to a side when she exploded. "Turn to me. Turn to me!" Allison moved from her spot, moving to the beams above her that eventually blocked some of the blood moon's rays of light. Eventually, a shadow rested on Derek and the Darach's spot.

Trying to kill Deucalion, Allison smiled when she watched as Jennifer found that she couldn't deliver the killing blow. Holding back the small huff of victory, Allison moved down and away from the beams and went back to her old spot behind the rusting machine.

"What is this?" Jennifer asked again as she tried—and failed—to kill Deucalion, who was at her feet unconscious.

Derek hid in the shadows. "Healing him made you weak, just like healing Cora did to me. You won't have your strength for at least a few minutes," Allison caught onto his words, knowing well what Derek meant by a few minutes. Everything clicked into place for her, realizing well what had happened to Derek and what had taken him so long to reach them. A look of disbelief was on Jennifer's face when she shook it off, looking at Derek as if he had to finish what she started.

"Then you do it. Kill him!" Jennifer's voice rang with a darkness that Allison didn't know a person's voice could hold.

After that, it was all a blur. Derek refused to kill, citing his mother about being a predator but not a killer. Allison remembered Deucalion being stuck inside the Mountain Ash circle with Jennifer. She remembered how it because of her moving the metal sheets resting above the metal beams above them that gave Deucalion enough time to heal himself and finish Jennifer once and for all—initially, Allison was just too tired to continue fighting, she just wanted to leave Jennifer when Deucalion slashed the Darach's throat, the Mountain Ash circle disappearing into the air when it was finally over.

Deucalion was a different matter. Allison, though she wanted to just let Jennifer go, wanted to punish Deucalion in some way. After all, Allison thought to herself, it all started with the Alpha Pack and Jennifer was just a name in the long list of victims Deucalion managed to hurt with his quest for perfection. But then, Allison realized that it was her Grandfather's fault, too.

Though Allison was against it, Derek convinced her that Deucalion was capable of becoming the man he once was—a man of vision, no matter how ironic the statement was, or how poetic it became when Jennifer restored his vision.

The only part of the night Allison didn't remember was being brought to the hospital for her injuries. Her injuries, apparently, were caused by some of the sharp edges of the rusty machines, metal beams, and sheets she moved around in the distillery. A few cuts was all she had, a minor concussion from Deucalion, and a limp from being thrown across when she defied the alpha.

Stiles looked at her, probably noticed all the cuts and wounds, the bandages and the cold compress she had in her hand. He knew about her battle with the Darach.

Also, Allison didn't remember how she got inside the morgue, or how she ended up watching Scott's pale corpse on the examination table. She just found herself crying with Stiles, mourning the loss of a friend and brother, a first love and constant protector. They just cried when Allison stopped, all of a sudden, taking some time to see the morgue.

"Mountain Ash," Stiles said, all of a sudden. "Argent told me to make a circle around Scott because," his lips trembled and his voice broke. "The Nemeton's powered again, and all that, and Scott's like radiating the power since he's the new battery," Allison nodded, though she didn't care for it. The sight of Scott's body was painful for Allison, too much to handle. "They figured that it would be better to be safe than sorry, hence the Mountain Ash," Allison didn't listen much to Stiles. She just spend the time watching Scott's peaceful face, wondering how long it took for him to get what he deserved—rest.

Though Allison wanted to be selfish. She wanted to keep him in this world where he would always get hurt because, at least then, she'd take care of him.

Rubbing soothing patterns on her shoulder, Stiles just cried with her. Allison found comfort knowing that she'd have someone grieve with her. "It's, uh, we have to go," Stiles said, looking at the door. Allison knew that the police needed their statements. She even saw Agent McCall sitting in the waiting area, probably as lost as anyone would be. He was probably just begging for an answer because even if he came as an agent first and as a father second, he cared about Scott.

Allison saw from the jabs Lydia gave him earlier at her apartment. Allison felt pity for the man, for the first time, because his son was dead.

"Come on, let's go, the world is probably waiting for us because we're the kids who cried wolf—pun intended," Stiles muttered, his arms still around Allison when blue light filled the room. Stiles stopped frozen in his tracks, Allison following suit when blue light filled the room. She gave Stiles a look, knowing well that hoping could only destroy them, so they turned around slowly, only to see Scott with a lost look on his face, the white sheet that still hung on his body.

It was like Scott didn't even see Stiles and Allison because he tried to pushed against the wall of Mountain Ash despite her yelling, telling him to stop fighting, that she'd free him from his cage. But Scott broke free, the Mountain Ash flew all over the room and Scott stood in the middle of the morgue, still wearing the clothes he had when they went inside the tub filled with mistletoe. "Scott?" Allison approached him, her voice filled with hope, seeing the man she thought she'd lost.

Stiles copied her moves, inching forward towards Scott. "Scott, buddy? That you?" Scott didn't reply, he just kept looking at the ground, but his palms were dripping with blood. "Hey, Scotty, I think you need some help," Stiles moved towards the door and slowly opened it. "I'm going to find some help, okay, Scott?" Allison inched forward, despite seeing Stiles grimace at her actions.

It was obvious that Stiles wanted Allison to go find some help with him. But she didn't really care. Allison knew the dangers she was facing when she stepped closer towards Scott.

Allison took another step, finally within arms reach. She breathed out shakily, "Scott?" finally, they got a reaction from him.

Scott looked up from the spot on the ground he kept staring at, his eyes glowing blood red.

"I'm an alpha now."