Where Do We Go From Here?

Chapter 9

Allison emerged from the bushes, arrow pointed straight at him. Scott froze, panting heavily.

“Allison,” he pleaded, “Allison, you have to help me. Stiles - he’s hurt. I saw him a little while ago but he disappeared. Please, you have to help me find him.”

“I’m not helping you with anything, Scott,” she said, not lowering her bow, “It’s too late for that.”

“What do you mean?” he cried, “Is he dead? Please tell me I didn’t k-”

“I’m not talking about Stiles, Scott. I’m talking about us.” She was slowly pacing around him, circling him in a wide arc.

“U-us?” Scott shook his head, but it did little to clear the fuzziness he felt, “What does that have to do with-”

“You did this!” she shrieked, “You lost me! This was your fault!”

Scott faltered, “I don’t - I never wanted it to be this way. You left me, Allison.”

“Because you killed my mother, you monster!” Allison screamed and released the arrow.

Scott winced and waited for the pain, but it never came. He opened his eyes and found he was alone again, but a noise behind him drew his attention. He turned around and crept deeper into the woods until he found the source.

Isaac had Allison pinned up against a tree. Their bodies were silhouetted by the moonlight and the sound Scott had heard was Allison moaning softly. He wanted to look away but his eyes were glued to the way Isaac’s hands ravaged Allison’s body, the way she tilted her head back, eyes closed, how she clawed at his hair, how his body pressed into hers. Allison looked up and smirked at him over Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac turned and laughed coldly.

“Look at the baby Alpha cowering in the dark,” he mocked, “Afraid of the dark Scotty?” Isaac made his way toward Scott, eyes glowing gold.

“Look at him, Isaac,” Allison said cruelly, “He’s shaking.”

Isaac snarled at him, “Who are you? What gives you the right? You think you’re so powerful, but everyone sees it. You’re weak. I was Derek’s second. It should’ve been me who became an Alpha.”

Scott tried to reason with him, “It doesn’t work like that,” but he just sounded pathetic, “You know that-”

“I would’ve made a better Alpha than you! What have you done? Besides slice up your best friend. Face it, Scott, you failed. We’d all be better off without you. Everyone thinks so, even your girlfriend chose me over you.” Allison slunk forward and wrapped herself around Isaac, kissing him passionately.

Scott stumbled away from the pair, pushing himself deeper and deeper into the reserve.


Isaac looked at Stiles’s sleeping form. The beeping of the monitor was doing its best to lull him to sleep, but his anger kept him awake. How could Derek just keep him here while Scott was out in the woods somewhere, scared and sick? Derek wasn’t his Alpha anymore, Scott was. Anyway, Stiles was safe here and the Sheriff was on his way to the hospital to keep an eye on his son. Isaac and Stiles had spent nearly half an hour cursing Derek after they’d turned him over to Deaton, but they both knew Isaac would follow the Beta’s orders. The truth was, seeing Scott so out of control had rattled both boys. However much they had complained, they were grateful when Derek took command, even if was to tell both of them to cool their heels and remain at the hospital. It was easier to be mad at Derek than to worry about him; Isaac tried not to remember the feeling of strapping Derek’s lifeless body into Deaton’s car. No, Derek will be fine, he told himself. Deaton knew what he was doing.

Just before he’d drifted to sleep, Stiles had whispered, “I know you love him too; please don’t let him die Isaac.” Isaac wasn’t sure if he meant Derek or Scott, but he didn’t think it mattered. Isaac would be damned if he’d let any more of his pack members die while he still drew breath.The boy sighed in frustration, he should being doing something! There was nothing more he could do for Derek and Stiles, but Scott needed him. His body shook as every instinct he had screamed at him to join his Alpha.

Isaac caught a familiar scent, raspberries and peonies, but it was mixed with sweat and rain and earth. Allison stood in the doorway looking forlorn.

“How is he?” she whispered, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Isaac followed her gaze the the boy in the bed, “He’s fine. He fell asleep about an hour ago. Stiles has always been strong, Al.”

She chuckled and wiped her eyes, “He has to be, to keep up with all of you.” She entered the room and buried herself into Isaac’s arms. “How’s Derek?”

“We got him to Deaton’s,” Isaac held tight to her shaking form, “No word yet, but he said he’d call as soon as he knew anything.”

Allison began crying in earnest, “I’m s-sorry, I c-couldn’t, couldn’t - I had to come b-back-”

“Shh, shh,” he glanced at Stiles, “Let’s go outside and talk, okay?”

She nodded and followed him out the door and down the hallway to the lobby. Allison sank into a chair and Isaac disappeared briefly, only to return with two cups of coffee.

“Thanks,” she hiccupped.

“I’m basically living on the stuff,” Isaac took a sip, “Okay, so what happened? Not that I’m not glad to see you, but why are you here? Is your dad still out there?”

Allison nodded, “He’s still looking. But Isaac, we looked everywhere. We followed his trail for half an hour and then it got more and more erratic, like he was running from something. But there weren’t any signs of anything else out there. Just him. The trail got harder and harder to follow until we lost it completely. Then it started to rain and my dad could tell I was getting upset. So he sent me here to check in with you and Stiles.” She looked up at him, eyes wide, “Am I terrible? He could be dying out there and I couldn’t keep it together l-long enough t-to-”

“Allison,” Isaac took both her hands in his, “You’re not terrible. You care about Scott. You’re worried about him, we all are. It’s been killing me being stuck here and not out there with you.”

She shuddered, and curled herself up in Isaac’s embrace. Isaac smoothed her hair. “You’re exhausted. Why don’t you stay here with Stiles and I’ll go join your dad? That should keep Derek happy…”

Allison nodded, “Yeah, that might be a good idea. Maybe you’ll be able to pick up his sce… Isaac? What’s wrong?”

The Beta had pulled away and cocked his head to the side, as if listening to something. The color drained from his face, “No...it can’t be… We were just with him!”

“What is-” but the question died in her throat as she watched a crash cart race by, nurses heading straight for Stiles's room. “Stiles?!” The pair raced down the hall.

The long, steady tone of the monitor was deafening. Isaac pushed past the nurses who had crowded into the room and his eyes fell immediately to the bed. It was empty.


A cold drizzle began to fall as Scott came upon another clearing. He fell on his hands and knees, panting, gasping for breath. All of a sudden he was coughing up thick, black liquid; even in his hazy state he knew that wasn’t good. He dragged himself under a tree, trying to stay as dry as he could.

A flash of lightning foretold a clap of thunder and the storm began in earnest. Scott squinted; between the raindrops and his blurred vision, he could just barely make out a pair of shocking blue eyes coming toward him.

“Please,” he moaned, “No more…”

But Derek had him by the front of his shirt. He lifted Scott into the air so he could stare straight into his eyes. “You were supposed to take care of them,” Derek growled.

“I know,” Scott whimpered, “I’m sorry.”

“I left them with you. You were supposed to protect them!” Derek’s eyes grew brighter, “But look what you did. You drove Allison away, you let Isaac down, and you betrayed me.”

“I never meant…”

“You killed Stiles!” Derek screamed.

“No!” Scott struggled against his grip, “Please, Derek, please tell me he’s not dead!”

“He’s dead,” Derek spat, “You killed him, so now I’m going to kill you.”

Scott screamed as he felt five, long, sharp claws rip into his stomach. He stared into Derek’s eyes as the Beta dug deeper, until it felt like he was tearing a hole right through him. Slowly, the blue of Derek’s eyes faded, replace by a darker, deadlier red.

“No!” Scott wailed and crumpled to the ground. He gasped, checking his stomach for the wounds he knew were there. But he felt only smooth, healthy skin underneath his fingers. He leaned back, panting, relieved but not comforted. He knew he deserved it. If Stiles really was dead, he deserved worse. He forced his eyes to focus. In the distance, through the curtain of rain, he made out a shape in the distance. A half-collapsed house. It wasn’t until he was halfway there that he realized what it was. He was standing in front of the Hale House.

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