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A Different Perspective

Summary:

What if Allison had been the one bitten instead of Scott?

Notes:

So, this is an AU I seriously debated publishing. I really don't know if I'm going to continue, that really depends on you guys, so please enjoy.

Thanks for reading and drop me a comment if you can.

Chapter Text

 

“I’m just saying, the last I checked calculus isn’t some soul sucking, mind attacking parasite,” Lydia Martin said glancing over at her best friend, one hand gripping her Honda’s steering wheel, the other laying against the windowsill.

“It might not be for you, Lyd, but we’re not all math geniuses,” Allison Argent responded with a small smile, her dark hair mussed up as she rested her head against the window, her breath fogging up the glass. “Besides, don’t you think you were being a little harsh on Erica? She only asked one question.”

“No,” Lydia promptly answered her voice unapologetically harsh, “I think I was being fairly nice when it comes to that harpy. I could have said she was a moron who shouldn’t be allowed to step foot in a room full of kindergartens, much less a high school math class, but I refrained out of the goodness of my heart.”

“And this has nothing to do with a certain chestnut haired boy,” Allison muttered closing her dark eyes, her voice bordering on mischievous.

“Hm, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the music,” Lydia said loudly, turning her radio up several notches, The Cab immediately pounding from the speakers. Allison rolled her eyes, shaking her head, a smile spreading across her face.

The two girls continued to drive for a few more minutes, silence filling the car, but Lydia slowed down when she noticed the flashing lights, turning her radio off. “What do you think’s going on?” Allison asked curiously, sitting up, eyeing the police vehicles warily.

“I don’t know,” Lydia replied softly, her eyes flicking back to the road, “but I don’t think…” her words trailed off into a gasp, her foot slamming on the brake. She cranked the steering wheel to the side, coming to a complete stop in the ditch, their seatbelts the only thing keeping the two girls from seriously injuring themselves.

“What the heck, Lydia,” Allison demanded pressing a shaky hand to her chest, feeling her heart pound beneath it.

“I thought I saw…” Lydia trailed off, pressing the seatbelt release and getting out of the car. Allison hurriedly followed her, hissing, “This is a bad idea.”

“I just want to make sure it’s okay,” the red head responded, heading deeper into the woods, away from the flashing police cars, using the small light on her phone to help her see.

“I doubt you hit anything,” Allison whispered following her friend, pulling her jacket tighter around her. “I didn’t even see anything.”

“Well, I did,” Lydia insisted and fell silent. The two girls were quiet for a long while, continuing to search for whatever Lydia claimed she saw, but their search was cut short by a twig snapping nearby.

“What was that?” Lydia breathed moving to stand next to Allison, switching her phone’s light off. The dark haired girl shrugged, squinting into the darkness, looking for whatever had made that noise. The red head moved forward, just as another twig snapped to Allison’s left. She turned, looking for the source of the noise, letting out a shaky breath when she didn’t see anything. When she turned back, she found Lydia gone.

“Lydia,” Allison whispered peering into the darkness again. “Lyd, where are you?” She took a step forward, about to call for her friend a third time, but the words died in her throat when she heard a growl to her left.

Slowly, Allison turned, her dark eyes widening at the sight of a massive wolf sprinting towards her. She shouted in surprise, scrambling backwards, tripping over her feet. She fell, hard, biting her tongue. She tasted blood, tangy and metallic, but before she could dwell on it any further than that, the wolf was on her.

She knew she was a goner, fighting about as useless as screaming, but she couldn’t help it when the wolf bit her side. Anticipating another bite, Allison struggled to get her taser out of her pocket. As the wolf lowered its head, blood stained teeth glinting in the moon light, the brunette wrapped her hand around the device and pulled it from her pocket. Powering it on, she jammed it into the wolf’s neck, sending a jolt of electricity through it. The wolf snarled, jumping off her and running away, disappearing into the woods, leaving Allison breathing heavily on the forest floor.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, but eventually she sat up, hissing in pain as she jostled her wounded side. Carefully, she lifted her shirt, her eyes widening at the gash in her side, noting the teeth marks. She knew she probably had to get it looked at, needed to make sure it wasn’t about to get infected or anything, but first she really had to get out of the woods.

Allison struggled to her feet, turning her taser off and stashing it in her pocket, staggering towards the road. About mid-way there, or what she hoped was mid-way, she tripped over something, finding herself sprawled on the ground again. Turning over, her heart suddenly in her throat, she suppressed a scream when her eyes landed on half of a man’s body.

Breathing heavily, she scrambled to her feet and ran away from the body, not stopping until she found the road again. She skidded to a halt, bending forward, resting her hands on her knees. Tires startled her, headlights barely shining on her before a car skidded to avoid her, and left Allison standing in the middle of the street, gasping for breath, wishing the night would end already.

TW

The dream seemed so vivid. At least, Allison thought it was a dream. She remembered going to bed last night, in her own room, listening to Ingrid Michaelson. She did not recall waking nor did she recall heading towards the woods.

Brows furrowed, she looked around, about to open her mouth and call out, but the words died on her lips when a familiar wolf rushed at her. Allison turned and ran, not needing a repeat performance, branches scratching at her bare arms, leaving behind tiny cuts.

She managed to out run the wolf, somehow, only to find herself in some sort of gully, sinking fast. She tried to surface, water filling her nose and mouth, fighting to keep her breath held, relief rushing through her when she broke the surface.

“Who the hell are you?” a voice snarled and Allison turned, gasping for breath, barely holding a cough at bay, to see her neighbor watering her hydrangea bushes. Allison looked around, surprised to find herself in a pool.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered clambering out of the pool, dripping wet in her tank top and shorts. What the heck is going on?

TW

“I am so sorry,” Lydia apologized hurriedly, racing up to Allison the moment she stepped off the bus. “I was looking for the dog, or whatever, and the sheriff found me. He escorted me back to my car before I could explain what I was doing out there.”

“It’s fine,” Allison replied softly, gingerly touching her side. After a long walk home, and a quick lie that she had been at the library, her dad had freaked out when she showed him the wound, and she had spent six hours in the ER last night, before a cold handed nurse stitched up her side. It wouldn’t have been so bad, if her dad didn’t spend the entire time lecturing her about hiding injuries from him (she had ‘neglected’ to inform him she had gotten it because she snuck out to go to LA with Lydia) and how infection could lead to hospitalization and death (and a boat load of other stuff he had read in those hikers guides he bought for the store). Needless to say, she regretted going with Lydia.

“So, what happened last night?” Lydia asked as the two girls headed towards the school.

“Something attacked me,” Allison stated and glanced around, quickly showing Lydia the gauze when she was certain no one was watching. “I think it was a wolf.”

“Impossible,” Lydia informed her friend, shaking her head. “Wolves are not indigenous to California. It had to be something else.”

“No, Lyd, I know what I saw,” Allison whispered pulling her jacket tighter around her. “I also found half of a body.”

“What?” Lydia turned wide, green eyes on Allison. “Is that what the police were looking for last night?”

“I don’t know. I just know…” Allison trailed off when she noticed she no longer had Lydia’s attention. She was watching as a brunet boy walked past them, chatting animatedly to a tall, gangly boy while a blonde hung off him like an extra appendage.

“She doesn’t deserve him,” Lydia sniffed crossing her arms.

“You should just go talk to him,” Allison suggested wrapping one hand around her bag’s strap.

“Oh, that’ll be a great conversation. ‘Hey, Stiles, I just thought I’d say hi, even though you have no idea who I am, and let you know that I’ve been pretty much in love with you since the third grade. Oh, and I may or may not have been slightly stalking you since then, too, but I’m not crazy. I swear.’ Jeez Allison, you know nothing of my five year plan.”

“It’s changed so many times, Lydia, I’m surprised it hasn’t evolved into a ten year plan,” Allison deadpanned, following her friend into the school.

“I find your wit insufferable today,” Lydia commented with very little heat. “So, a dead body,” the red head continued, changing the subject.

“I wonder if the cops found him.” Allison felt guilty, leaving the man out there. He could be somebody’s father, maybe a brother, an uncle, a cousin, a friend; he was important to someone and Allison just left him to rot. She should have mentioned him to her father, but she had been very vague about how she had gotten her injury, she was fairly certain she’d actually have to mention their trip and their detour if she said anything about the body.

“I’m sure they did,” Lydia replied quietly. The two girls split up once inside, heading to their respective lockers, giving each other a quiet good-bye. Allison collected her morning books, shoving them in her bag, and shut her locker door.

She headed towards her English class, sitting in the back, trying not to think about her impromptu swim. She had no idea why she didn’t tell Lydia, it might actually be pertinent, but it might also just be Allison developing a condition that involved sleep walking. Anything was possible. She doubted it was the latter, but denial might actually help her sleep at night.

Jackson Whittemore walked in, snapping Allison out of her thoughts, sitting a few seats down from her, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Allison hated that he felt embarrassed among his peers, hating even more what had been done to him during one of his spells.

As the class continued to file in, Allison found herself spacing out again, her mind going back to the wolf last night. The more she thought about it, and she had done nothing else since the attack, the more she convinced herself it was probably just a stray dog or something. Though, that meant she’d most likely need a rabies shot or something, and she probably really should have told her dad about the dog last night. She had told him she caught her side on a fence; she told the nurse the neighbor’s dog attacked her.

“Yeah, Mom,” Allison suddenly heard a male voice say. “Two calls on my first day? That’s not even sorta pathetic. Yes, I have everything. Except a pencil; just my luck, huh? Hey, the principal’s here. I need to go. Okay, love you, too.” Allison’s eyes darted towards the window, falling on a dark haired boy looking up to greet the principal.

They spoke for a moment before the boy stood up and followed the older man. Allison, still reeling from what had just happened, still staring at the empty bench, was surprised when the door opened. The principal walked in, followed by the boy from outside, and Allison felt her eyes widen slightly at the sight of him.

He was adorable, sort of like a puppy, with his dark eyes and relaxed smile, but there was also this beauty about him. Allison wanted to talk to him, get to know him, but she also felt like just talking to him wouldn’t be enough. She wondered if this was how Lydia felt when faced with the prospect of talking to Stiles; not that Lydia couldn’t land Stiles. In Allison's opinion, her best friend could do whatever she put her mind to, but embarrassment brought on by potential rejection held her back.

The principal left, their teacher directing the boy to sit wherever, and he took the empty seat in front of Allison. He turned, giving her a smile, and said, “Hi.” She responded by handing over the pen in her hand. He gave her a curious look, turning back to face forward.

Smooth Allison, she told herself, fighting the urge to lay her head down, real smooth.

TW

“Can someone please tell me,” Danny started during lunch, approaching Lydia and Allison while the latter searched her locker for something, “how the new guy is already friends with the most popular people in school.”

“Well, he is hot,” Lydia pointed out leaning against a bank of lockers, her eyes trained on Stiles, Erica, and the new kid, “and hot people tend to stick together. It’s survival of the fittest and, if you were an animal, you’d stick with the pack that’s more likely to survive than the one who’s just, you know, sort of there.”

“Watching The Discovery channel again, Lyd?” Allison asked curiously, a smirk on her face.

“It’s like kryptonite to me,” Lydia replied helplessly.

“It’s just weird to me,” Danny continued before walking away.

“Hey Lyd,” Allison started pulling her head from her locker, “have you seen that charm bracelet my Aunt Kate gave me?”

“No, why?”

“I can’t find it.”

“Let me look.” Lydia stepped forward, hip checking Allison out of the way, and started searching the locker, pulling things out and tossing them on the floor. When Allison’s locker was bare, she turned to her friend and said, “Maybe you dropped it in the woods.”

Allison glanced at her scattered possessions, wondering if it were absolutely necessary for the red head to toss everything on the floor, and softly said, “I guess we can look after school.”

“I guess,” Lydia agreed reluctantly, “but you’re driving.”

“Fine,” Allison replied shoving her stuff back in her locker and shutting the door. “Let’s go to lunch.”

TW

Several more weird things happened to Allison during the day. She started hearing random conversations but when she looked around, she realized they weren’t coming from her classroom. She could smell the boys’ locker room even though she was nowhere near the room. And twice she spotted an animal from halfway across the school yard, further away than her eyes should be able to see. By the end of the day, she felt like she was about to have a panic attack.

“Wait, explain it to me again,” Lydia said slowly, following her friend through the woods.

“Weird things keep happening,” Allison explained and recapped all the incidences again. “Right down to the coconut lip gloss you have in your pocket.”

“I don’t have…” Lydia trailed off when she pulled a tube of coconut lip gloss from her pocket. “Okay,” she started putting the lip gloss away, “so maybe it’s a side-effect of the ‘wolf’ attack or whatever.”

“Maybe,” Allison muttered skeptically, searching the ground for her charm bracelet.

“Or maybe, you know, it wasn’t just a wolf,” Lydia continued vaguely, and Allison glanced up at her with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m just saying, super hearing, sight, and smell. It sounds like a were…”

“Come on, Lydia,” Allison scoffed returning to her search. “Werewolves do not exist. And if they did, why would they come to Beacon Hills? No one wants to be in Beacon Hills.” When Lydia neglected to answer, Allison looked up, her friend looking at something straight ahead.

“What…?” the brunette trailed off as she turned towards the ‘something,’ brown eyes resting on a dark haired girl standing ten feet away from them.

“This is private property,” the girl said gruffly, her hands buried deep in her leather jacket.

“We’re sorry,” Allison said quickly, pushing herself to her feet. “We were just looking for something.” The girl pulled her left hand from her pocket, a golden bracelet dangling from her fingers, and tossed it at Allison. The brunette caught it, recognizing the familiar charms hanging from it. When she looked up, the girl had already walked away.

“Do you have any idea who that was?” Lydia hissed when the girl had disappeared into the forest. Allison shook her head. “That was Cora Hale. Her whole family burned to death in a fire like six years ago.”

“I wonder what she’s doing here,” Allison murmured fiddling with her bracelet.

“I don’t know,” Lydia whispered shrugging. She then sighed and asked, “Can we get out of here, now? I have homework I need to do and practice SAT tests to take.”

“Lyd, we don’t take the SATs for another year,” Allison pointed out but still followed her friend out of the woods.

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

TW

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Allison apologized when she burst into the bookshop’s break room, dropping her bag onto the rickety table.

“It’s only two minutes,” her boss, Miss Morell, responded from behind a large stack of boxes. “Besides, it actually proves you’re a teenager. I was starting to think you were sixteen going on forty.”

Allison smiled, grabbing her smock, and pulled it on, adjusting her nametag. She moved towards her boss, offering to take a few of the boxes off her hands, and the two began sorting books. Morell liked to go through the new supply, make sure there weren’t any missing pages or bugs hidden in between the pages. Allison also suspected her boss put a much smaller pile aside for herself, leaving money in the register when she was done.

Once the books were sorted, Morell sent Allison out to work the cash register, giving Isaac Lahey, one of Allison’s co-workers, a break. He was best friends with Erica Reyes, Stiles’ girlfriend, and really didn’t say much to Allison. In fact, after almost six months of working together, Allison still didn’t know anything about him other than his favorite candy was snickers and that was only because he bought one every day from the vending machine (and truthfully, that might not even be his favorite candy, but just his preference from what was actually offered- which wasn't a heck of a lot).

As Allison worked the register, directing a few people to the genres they were looking for, the new boy walked in, followed by Stiles. The latter was talking, his words blurring together, his hands animated as he spoke. The two boys disappeared behind a shelf, Allison tuning into what they were talking about, but it wasn’t exactly her choice.

“So, Boyd is having this party tomorrow night,” Stiles informed the new kid. “You should totally come because everyone who is anyone will be there.”

“Who’s Boyd again?” the new kid asked curiously.

“He’s the big, black kid that sat with us at lunch. He’s closer to Isaac and Erica than he is with me, but I’ve known him since the third grade. He’s a pretty decent dude, more of a listener than a talker, but he throws the best parties. Seriously, you should be there.”

I’ll think about it.”

“Whatever.” Stiles’ phone vibrated, startling him, and he pulled it from his pocket. “I need to go, Scotty, but totally come to the party. I heard they’ll be free food.” He then said good-bye and walked out of the store, the bell jingling above him.

Allison debated whether or not to go over and talk to him, but her decision was made for her when he appeared around the corner, walking towards her. “Hey,” he greeted with a smile, “you’re pen girl.”

“Uh, yeah,” she responded nodding. “And you’re…?”

“Scott,” he supplied, his smile growing.

“Call me Allison,” Allison said returning the smile. “And you can keep the pen. I have plenty.” She had never been this awkward before; this was embarrassing. “So, uh, how was your first day?”

“Long, a bit tedious,” Scott replied slowly. “I’ve changed so many schools…” he sighed shaking his head. “Anyway, so I was hoping you could help me. My mom’s birthday is coming up, and I was thinking about getting her a book.”

“I think I can help you with that,” Allison replied confidently, all traces of awkward evaporating as she stepped out from behind the counter. “Come on.”

As the two looked, Scott trying and failing to describe what kind of books his mother liked, Allison found herself asking, “So, are you seriously not going to go to that party?”

“Oh, you heard that?” Scott gave her a curious look, but let it go with a shrug. “It’s just, I’m not going to know anyone there. Hell, I barely know Stiles, even if it feels like we’ve been friends for years, you know. I just, I don’t want to overstep my boundaries.”

“I could, you know, come with you,” Allison started trailing her fingers down a book’s spine, her brown eyes locked on the title's golden letters. “You know, just to act as a buffer.” Internally, she crossed her fingers, wanting him to say yes more than anything.

“You’d do that?” he asked curiously and she nodded. “It’s just, I don’t want you to have to change your plans for me.” Plans? What plans? Allison generally spent her Friday nights watching re-runs and eating takeout with her dad. She figured he’d be happy to actually get her out of the house for a few hours.

“It’s not a problem,” Allison informed Scott, turning to meet his eyes.

“Alright,” he conceded ruffling his hair. “But do you mind picking me up? My dad’s still debating whether or not to actually get me a car.”

“That’s fine. How does eight o’clock sound?”

“Great,” Scott responded just as he picked up La Boheme from the shelf. “I think my mom will like this.”

“Okay,” Allison replied and led Scott back towards the counter, feeling ten times lighter than she had all day.

TW

Lydia called Allison way too early the next morning, begging her to come over. Allison only agreed when Lydia threatened to come over to her house, with a bucket full of icy water, and hurried over as fast as she possibly could, irritation and underlying anger burning in her veins.

When Mrs. Martin let Allison in, she directed the brunette towards the stairs before hurrying back towards her office, no doubt trying to finish something up before she had to leave for BHU. Allison hurried up the stairs, knocking softly on Lydia’s door before entering.

The red head’s floor was littered with printouts and books, a half-drunken mug of coffee sitting next to her Mac. Lydia herself was standing by the window, wringing her hands, wearing the glasses she only seemed to don when she didn’t get enough sleep.

She gave Allison a grim look and said, “I think I know what happened to you.”

“Lydia,” Allison started tiredly, hanging her head, “if this is about werewolves again…”

“No, Allison, listen,” Lydia stated hurriedly, stepping forward, stooping down to pick up a book. She turned it to show her friend a hand drawn picture of a wolf, and for a second it reminded Allison of whatever attacked her. “It all fits. The wolf attack, the super senses, that look of irritation on your face…”

“I’m irritated because this is stupid,” Allison half-snapped, looking away from the book. “It was a dog, Lydia.”

“I don’t think it was. Besides, have you looked at your wound since you were attacked? It says here you have fast healing, too. I bet it isn’t even there anymore.” Allison scoffed, turning towards the door, but Lydia hurriedly stepped forward and grabbed her arm. “You’re cursed, Allison.”

“Get your hands off me,” Allison snarled wrenching away from her friend, turning sharply to glare at her. Lydia backed up a step, green eyes wide in shock and just a little fear. “It was a dog.”

“And if it wasn’t,” Lydia challenged, her voice a little shaky. “The full moon is tonight, Allison. You could seriously hurt…”

“What are you suggesting?” Allison hissed taking a step towards her friend, anger still pumping through her veins. “You going to tie me up, hope I don’t get free.” She snorted humorlessly. “Listen to yourself Lydia. You sound crazy. This whole thing is crazy. Now, I have to get back home before my dad realizes I’m not there, and we’re not talking about this again.”

Allison turned on her heel, heading towards the door, and Lydia called, “You’re not going to Boyd’s party tonight, right?”

Allison stopped, huffing, and said, “Yeah, actually, I am. Maybe I’ll see you there.” She then walked out of the room, slamming Lydia’s door behind her.

TW

For the rest of the day, Allison’s emotions ranged from mildly irritated to murder inducing anger. She actually had to feign ‘cramps’, afraid she might actually hurt someone, and ended up staying in her room all day. With too much free time, she started thinking about what Lydia said, but she brushed it off as nonsense from her best friend’s brain after too much coffee and not enough sleep. Lydia had no clue what she was talking about.

But, because Allison was a bit of a masochist, she still ducked into the bathroom to check her side. Her stomach sank when she found the wound completely healed. This was not happening. Maybe, maybe the wound just wasn’t as big as Allison thought. Yeah, that was totally it. It just wasn’t as big. Lydia was definitely not right.

Around six, her mood slightly better, still living in blissful denial, Allison started getting ready for the party. She was just debating which top to wear, when her dad appeared in her bedroom doorway.

“Is this a date?” he asked slowly, arms crossed, trying and failing to act nonchalant.

“Sorta,” Allison responded softly, deciding on her dark green sweater.

“And this boy’s name?” Her dad was trying to play the ‘concerned parent role’ but he sounded more like the ‘I’ve got a shotgun and I’m not afraid to use it’ dad.

Allison rolled her eyes and said, “Scott.”

“Do I need to give you the talk?”

“Dad, please don’t try that again,” Allison begged. “The last time we had the sex talk…”

“I was talking about putting gas in the car,” her father replied with a look of horror on his face. “I’m starting to rethink letting you go to this party.”

“Da-ad!”

“No, the last thing we need is you to be another one of those high school girls who end up pregnant.”

TW

Her father eventually relinquished the keys, but it took a lot of begging and many promises to keep the PDA to a minimum (‘if he tries to hold your hand, use your taser’). Allison drove to Scott’s house, finding it located in the nicer part of town, and quickly got out to knock on his door.

When she did, Scott answered wearing a dark, jean jacket and blue jeans. He called to his mother, telling her he was leaving, and followed Allison out of the house, closing the door behind him, both heading towards her car.

“This is my first party ever,” Scott confessed as Allison backed out of his driveway.

“Mine too,” she admitted with a small smile.

“Party virgins,” he joked lamely, holding his hand up.

“Party virgins,” she agreed raising her own hand to high five him. She felt like such a dork, but she really didn’t care.

 

TW

Boyd lived in the same neighborhood as Allison, just three blocks away. It probably would have been a smarter idea for Scott’s parents to just bring him to her house, but Allison figured when in doubt pretend she didn’t have to backtrack to pick up this cute boy who may or may not like her. It sounded a bit like one of Lydia’s plans, but her best friend had so many that Allison generally tuned them out. That also reminded Allison that she’d have to apologize to her friend. Lydia may be certifiable when it came to her theory, but she didn’t deserve to get yelled at.

“You okay?” Scott asked curiously, almost worriedly.

“Just thinking,” Allison replied with a smile, grabbing his hand, dragging him towards the house. She suddenly had the overwhelming need to be close to him.

Out back, some loud, eardrum splitting number blared from the speakers. Warm bodies danced around them, some doing moves that the school would have deemed inappropriate. Allison wondered if those dance moves would be hard, but she thought better of it when she and Scott started dancing. He’d probably find that very awkward or, heaven forbid, think she was trying to put out, and Allison really did not need that.

For a while everything was fine, but then Allison thought she saw Cora Hale standing in the crowd. She was gone just as quickly as she seemed to appear. A howl followed and Allison really didn’t feel quite so good anymore.

The scent of Scott was suddenly overwhelming: Axe soap, Old Spice deodorant, and teenage boy all enveloped around his natural scent. It made Allison crazy, and left her with the sudden need to get even closer to that scent, let it wash over her own body by any means necessary, even if it left Scott lying dead on the cold, stone ground.

A sharp pain jolted through Allison’s side, and it took everything she had not to cry out. She quickly let go of Scott, trying to ignore the hurt and confused look on his face, and she quickly ran away from him, maneuvering through the crowd, needing to get out right that second. She was certain Lydia called after her, but Allison ignored her best friend, already rushing out the door.

Scott called her name, but again Allison didn’t answer, already starting her car and putting it in drive. She pressed down on the gas, the pedal nearly to the floor, and narrowly missed clipping a mailbox as she squealed out of the driveway.

When she got home, she left the keys in the car, the door wide open, and she burst inside and straight up to her room. Throwing her bathroom door open, Allison staggered to the sink, feeling like she was about to cry when she spotted the yellow eyes staring back at her from the mirror. Her teeth were sharper and longer than teeth should be, her nails pointed, almost claw like. It was right then that she realized Lydia had been right; she really was cursed.

“Allison,” she heard a familiar voice call. Quickly, she raced out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut before Lydia could come inside. “Allison, sweetie, are you okay?”

“You need to leave, Lyd,” Allison called back, pressing her weight into the door when Lydia tried to come in again. “You really need to leave.”

“Allison, I saw you leave the party.”

“Please go,” Allison begged leaning her head against the door.

“Scott asked where you went, but I couldn’t tell him. Last I saw, he caught a ride home with Cora…”

Allison’s head snapped up and she rushed away from the door, jumping out of her window, glass shattering all around her. She rolled to her feet, vaguely aware of Lydia crashing into her room, and immediately started running towards the woods.

She ran aimlessly for a while, the sudden urge to find Cora and do something overwhelming, but she skidded to a halt when she spotted Scott’s jacket dangling from a tree. Her snarl echoed through the forest, a promise that if Cora hurt a single hair on Scott’s head…

Something sailed through the air, impaling Allison’s arm to a tree, and she cried out in pain. She glanced over at the offensive thing, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of the arrow. She tried to pull her arm free, but the arrow merely slipped through her fingers. As another sailed through the air, this one impacting close to her head, a dark figure appeared out of the woods.

Allison looked up, noticing three figures standing a good ten yards away, watching as two of the three were easily taken down. The last figure (a woman around Allison’s father’s age) had enough time to raise her bow before Allison’s savior, surprisingly Cora Hale, yanked the arrow out of the teen’s arm.

“Come on,” Cora snarled grabbing Allison’s wrist and yanking her to her feet. She pulled the teen along, demanding her to shield her eyes, but it was too late as a spark of bright, white light effectively knocked out Allison’s vision.

It took a few moments for her vision to clear, but finally Allison was able to see again, and she immediately pushed Cora away from her, demanding, “What did you do with Scott?”

“Your boyfriend is fine,” Cora snarled apparently not taking too kindly to being pushed around. “I’m more worried about you.”

“Why?” Allison demanded trying to push Cora again. Allison, surprisingly, found herself on the ground, looking up at Cora.

“You’ve been given the bite. We’re sisters now,” Cora commented gesturing to Allison’s still protruding claws.

“I don’t want it,” Allison snapped clenching her hands into fists.

“The bite is a gift,” Cora replied slowly, eyebrows furrowed, sounding almost disgusted that Allison would reject something that had been forced upon her.

“I don’t want it,” Allison repeated angrily wanting nothing more than to have her claws go away, for her teeth and eyes to return to normal. To wake up and have this all be some type of bizzaro dream brought on from watching way too many hours of The Discovery Channel with Lydia.

“Well, too bad. You’re one of us now, and those hunters aren’t going to care if you want to be or not,” Cora hissed and, with a blink of Allison’s eyes, she was gone.

TW

Lydia picked her up in her old, busted up Honda. She started talking the moment Allison was in the car, immediately asking, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Allison replied resting her head against the window. “I’m more worried about…”

“If you say Scott, so help me they will never find your body.”

“He probably hates me.”

Lydia scoffed, turning her car around. The two girls rode together in silence, Allison really wanting to sleep for a year. She also wanted to apologize to Scott, but seeing as she did not have his number nor did she think he'd appreciate her just showing up at his house, she was not going to be able to do that until Monday at school.

She spent her weekend reading up on Lydia’s research, helping her friend put together more information on Cora Hale (with the help of their friend Danny), and joining Lydia in her ‘stalking’ of Stiles, just to see, for herself, that Scott was okay. She probably should have approached Scott then, but Allison still couldn’t quite figure out what she was going to say to him.

By Monday morning, Allison still had not worked out what she was going to say to Scott. Of course she had to apologize, maybe ask for a second chance, but everything just sounded so lame in her head.

She didn’t get a chance to talk to Scott until the end of the day, finding him out front, sitting on the edge of a bench, reading something on his phone. Slowly, Allison approached him, hesitating for a moment before tapping on his shoulder.

He jumped, nearly dropping his phone, and slowly turned towards her. His smile was timid, his eyes wary, and he quietly said, “Hi.”

“Hi. So, you must totally hate me,” Allison greeted sitting next to him.

“I’m more worried about you,” he responded putting his phone in his pocket. “Did you get sick or something?”

“Sort of,” Allison murmured tucking a strain of hair behind her ear. “Um, I just wanted to apologize, and ask for a second chance. Please.”

Scott was quiet for a few seconds, but finally he nodded and said, “I’d give you as many chances as you wanted.” He then smiled, this time a full blown grin, and stood up when someone honked a horn. “That’s my mom. So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Allison replied nodding, watching him walk towards an SUV, a woman moving forward to greet him. A woman that looked very familiar. Allison felt her stomach jolt; Scott’s mom was the woman from last night. Scott’s mom had tried to kill her. She seriously did not need this in her life right now.