A/N: This is a sequel to my other fic, Going Silver. Rated T for now, will be M in later parts.
Special thanks goes to Lady Silver, as per usual.
The anguished howl died on his lips before Scott had even realized it had been himself that made it. The werewolf sucked in breath after breath, ragged after racing through the woods at a preternatural pace, daring his body to calm down. He dropped his forehead down to meet the dirt below him, to rest.
What he had to do set in his stomach like a stone. He'd rather grovel at Derek's feet for help; rather sit in ten chemistry labs in a row; he'd even rather let Jackson stab him in the eye with a claw than wake up tomorrow and tell Allison he was breaking up with her. Scott was convinced she would hate him now, while he would still be left loving her, alone.
Why did everything have to change in his life all at the same time? Getting bitten by a werewolf, finding his first girlfriend, and finally getting to play lacrosse were all hard enough to manage on their own, let alone all three at once.
Angry at the unfairness of the world, Scott pounded a fist into the ground and felt the slight vibrations of the impact spread under him. He raised himself back up, onto his knees. He had to marvel at the strange amount of force he managed to create. Never done that before, he mused.
It brought Scott back to those words Mr. Argent had spoken to him, just moments before.
What if that had been Allison?
He stared down at the ground in front of him, strange swirls of dirt and leaves and displaced pebbles. "What if that had been Allison?" he mumbled to himself. Visions of Allison lying underneath him, bloodied and bruised by his own hand, swarmed in his mind. He imagined her shallow breathing as she rasps for help; her eyes overflowing with fear, of him; dull fingernails picking at his claws, trying to get him to stop hurting her. He shook his head violently, as if he could shuffle another, happier thought into his brain. Scott scrubbed his eyes to stop the delusions.
Why? Why did his mind always go back to those types of thoughts? Just how could he want to kill the one girl he wanted to fuck so badly?
'Fuck.' The word sounded so wrong when he associated it with Allison. He immediately hated the fact that the word was the only one to appear in his mind when he thought of her sometimes. It wasn't supposed to be that way with the two of them. It should be something better, something special and exciting.
Scott wanted to be with Allison; to be in her, on her, smell her, taste her, kiss her, hold her. It felt like the werewolf inside him just wanted to rut and kill things. When he allowed that new twisted part of him out, those thoughts were supposed to make him feel disgusted. But they didn't. They just made him hard, like he was right now.
Scott's phone vibrated in his pocket, no doubt with another message from Allison. Just another reminder of what he can't have anymore. Aggravated, a growl slipped out of his throat. He wanted to get out of these damn woods, go home, and figure out what to do tomorrow. Scott picked himself up and continued on, speeding through the trees, towards his home, as if he could leave the promise he made to Allison's father as far behind him as possible.
Not willing to try and reason with her mother any more tonight, she had left her home, insisting that she'd spend the night at Lydia's. Even though her friend was still recovering from her recent attack, she was home and had given Allison (and only Allison) a standing invite until she felt ready to return to school. Lydia also agreed, encouraged even, being Allison's alibi to go to Scott's tonight instead.
So Allison had gone to her boyfriend's house, only to find it empty and dark. She had figured his mother would be at work for a night shift, made evident by the empty driveway, but where would Scott be? Worry pricked at the back of her mind, wondering if he was in trouble with Derek or Jackson. She didn't want to go home again or even to Lydia's. Curious, she went up to the front door. Lifting up the welcome mat on a whim, she found a spare key. Not too original, she thought, picking up the key and trying it in the lock. With the door open to Scott's home, she replaced the key and went inside, locking the door behind her. Up in Scott's bedroom, Allison had eased herself into the old brown armchair in the corner of his room to get comfortable in case she had a lot of time ahead of her. It wasn't as if she was going to return home tonight, anyway. It was the last place she wanted to be tonight. Kicking off her boots, she grabbed a paperback from her bag and attempted to work her way through the Kafka reading for English next week.
Allison was blissfully unaware when Scott deftly climbed into his room by way of the window over his bed. She must have dozed off since she was startled awake by his voice. She took in the sight of him as he moved from the bed to face her. By the look on his face, he wasn't as happy to see her there as she had hoped.
"What are you doing here?" He wasn't angry, she decided. There seemed to be a heavy weight he was carrying, something that made his body so dejected. There was that bewildered look to his eyes, the one that always caused him to look so confused. His hands were dirty, as were his pants, both covered in soil. She imagined that he must have been in the woods, but for what, she didn't know.
Allison had thought he would come over after work like he had mentioned but an hour after dinner and there was still no sign of Scott. Her texts and voice messages went unanswered. "I just wanted to see you tonight." She offered him a coy smile, hoping to garner the same in return. Scott's reaction, or lack thereof, did nothing but make her confidence waver. "I mean, unless you want me to go?" It was hard to hide the disappointment in her voice.
The hurt tone managed to jolt Scott to attention. "No, I just -" he stammered, alarmed that he had made her unhappy so quickly. "I just, just..." His eyes ricocheted in his head, his mouth opening trying to use the right words. "I have to go to the bathroom!" he finally blurted out. "Stay here. For just a minute."
"Um, ok?" Allison nodded, confused as ever as he raced into the bathroom. Everything about Scott confused her. Some of it made sense now, what with knowing about the lycanthropy and all, but other times? When he had opened up to her about all his indecision and fears, magnified now by some preternatural tendencies neither of them fully understood, she had vowed to be patient with him, to help him in any way she could. She knew he was grateful for (and surprised by) her understanding, but wasn't quite sure what direction they were headed, this unknown territory of supernatural dating. Twilight could not be considered a reliable enough guidebook on the subject. Or any type of decent writing, she reminded herself.
A few minutes later he emerged, looking a little cleaner and a little guiltier, she noted. She couldn't help the way the nervous twinge in her belly spiked. That guarded look on Scott, she'd seen that look more times in their short relationship than she cared to admit. He was hiding something else from her.
"What haven't you told me now?" she grilled, suspicion cutting her words. What other secrets could Scott possibly have that would trump 'I'm the werewolf your family is trying to hunt down'?
Scott stayed put, midway between his bathroom and his bed, but took in a breath, steeling himself and jutting out his chin. "I think, I think we should break up."
Allison's mouth dropped open, shocked. "Why?" was all she could summon from her voice.
Scott shrugged his shoulders, dumping any emotion he still held onto the floor. "I just have too much going on right now. You know, with school work and lacrosse and everything else." Allison picked up on how small his voice sounded towards the end of that sentence.
Allison's brows creased together, spitting out the only word she could think of at the moment. "What?"
Scott had to look away, studying the scratches in the distressed wood floor of his room. His stance kept shifting, all his weight going from right to left. "Yeah, I just think it's the best for both of us, you know?"
Allison stopped. "You think it's best for the both of us?" she repeated, taking a step closer. Now where had she heard that one before?
Scott tried to stand his ground as his girlfriend approached him with an accusatory glare. He knew he couldn't mess this up. "Yeah, I do." He nodded surely. "It's just not going to work out." He walked past her to his computer desk, trying his best to look busy while waiting for Allison to leave. It only resulted in Scott pulling books out of his bag and stacking them in front of his monitor, only to put them back in a different order.
Allison wasn't buying it; she couldn't stop shaking her head, unbelieving. "No. No, there's no way this is happening. After everything we've been put through, you want to break up cause you're too busy?" She got right in Scott's face, trying to force him to look her in the eye, which he wouldn't. "Where were you tonight? Did you talk to my dad?" She had heard the sound of her father's car leave the garage earlier in the night.
Standing next to his desk, Scott flicked his eyes back to her, face as hard as stone. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be."
She knew, knew, this was bullshit. Allison couldn't help but take the demand as admission of guilt instead. "This all sounds an awful lot like something my dad would say."
She let the verdict hang in between them. "You did, didn't you?" she accused. "What did he say? Tell me what's going on." Allison folded her arms across her chest, refusing to bend until she got an answer from her boyfriend, but it was her face that betrayed how upset this was making her. She could feel her face get warm as she did her best to still her quivering chin. "Now!" she demanded, cursing inwardly when her voice cracked. She couldn't cry now. She always felt it was such a cop out.
The break in her voice was all it took, really. Within nanoseconds, Scott enveloped her in his arms, murmuring in her ear, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again. "Please don't cry. I didn't mean it. I don't want to." His hand came up to cup the back of her head as she let it fall onto his shoulder.
"I wasn't crying," she mumbled.
He shook his head, gently. "You were going to," Scott insisted. "You cry enough because of me and the stupid things I do."
She looked up at him then, grateful that emotions finally returned to his face. Concern, worry, regret, and maybe even something she could describe as love, Scott had them all on display at once, focused on her. Allison reached down for his hand and pulled him towards the edge of the bed, getting him to sit down with her.
"Just tell me," she began. "What did you and my dad talk about?"
Scott sighed, conceding defeat. He still held her hand, allowing their fingers to intertwine together.
"You." He didn't offer to continue, wishing that he didn't have to.
Allison made a motion for him to continue anyway.
He did so, reluctantly. "We made a deal." The guilt of what he let transpire earlier between her father and himself resurfaced.
"But what kind of deal?" she pressed. She let her other hand rest on his thigh, rubbing gently to encourage him on.
"If I broke up with you, he'd keep the hunters away from me. He said that I might be captured." Scott didn't want to say what else could be in store for him if that scenario occurred, but he knew lying to Allison wasn't an option anymore. "Or worse," he alluded, tucking two fingers of his other hand back and forming the shape of a pistol.
"No," Allison shook her head. There was no way her dad would let that happen, not after everything he saw Scott do against the alpha. "He can't tell us what to do. He can't blackmail us like that."
"No, but I can." A determined edge came to Scott's voice, as he tried to steel himself from her affections. He withdrew his hand from hers, as if physical distance would be enough to stop what he felt for her.
Allison glared at him, frustrated. She punched him in the leg. She knew it didn't really hurt him, but it got his attention.
Scott winced, ready to protest when he caught sight of the anger seething out of her eyes.
"You can try to tell me all you want, it doesn't mean I'm going to listen to you. Why can't I make my own decisions? Why don't you - either of you - think I'm even capable of that?"
Scott started to protest. "Of course you are, but what if-"
"No, not this time!" Allison cut him off. "You can't save me from any of this anymore than my dad can. I'm already a part of this…this whole thing, whatever it is, whether I met you or not."
"No." It was Scott's turn to interject. "You're in too much danger because of me!" His anger was beginning to match Allison's as he continued to rant, knocking off all the ways she'd been endangered on his fingers. "Derek, Jackson, the alpha...all of them used you just because they knew it would hurt me. You were just another means to an end for them. I - I don't want to see you used like that. If I wasn't in the picture, you'd be happier." The logic was right there, Scott didn't understand how Allison didn't see it, too.
She didn't buy it. "It doesn't matter. I'll always be in danger from someone trying to get to you. Unless you hate me," she finished.
"I don't think it's possible for me to hate you. You're un-hateable." Scott denied, reaching for her. He sighed. "I'm screwed either way. If I break up with you, I won't make it through the full moon without going completely psycho. If I stay with you, your dad or whoever's coming is going to hunt me down and put a bullet in my head." He huffed at the hopelessness of it all, still grateful that Allison stayed by his side on the bed. Even without saying anything, her presence made a difference.
After a minute of silence, Allison spoke up, gently. "Scott, I get it." Her statement snapped him out of his fog of doubt.
"Get what?" he asked.
"You're a package deal." She shrugged. "Love you, love the werewolf and the whole supernatural package that comes with it, I guess. Same way that my gun-crazy, werewolf vendetta having family is shackled to me." She tried to offer him a comforting smile.
Scott didn't say anything, but Allison could feel some type of release from his body next to her on the bed. Tensions eased from his shoulders and his gaze turned down, again focusing on her hand in his.
"So what did you tell him?" Allison prodded. She wanted to keep him talking, before he decided to clam up and stop telling her what she needed to know.
Scott's eyes went wide. He hadn't been prepared to delve into this. Tonight should have ended with Allison storming out of his bedroom and his life, screaming 'I hate you!' and Scott moping on his bed until he started college. Idly picking threads from his worn, brown comforter, he mumbled, "I told him what you do for me."
"So, what do I do for you?"
He raised his head and stared straight ahead at his bedroom door, trying to remember the earlier conversation exactly. "You keep me tied down here," he started slow. "In a good way, so I can't give in to it," Scott amended, hoping she wouldn't take what he said the wrong way. Earnestly, he looked back at her face. "Without you, I'd just drift away somewhere."
Allison sighed, understanding. "Hmmm, like an anchor."
"Yes, that's what I said! You're like the anchor to my werewolf ship."
She laughed. "If I'm the anchor, what does that make Stiles?" She leaned her head on his shoulder, letting her hand slide down the front of his t-shirt, hand lingering over the faded lettering.
Scott answered without hesitation. "Captain. He's definitely captain of the werewolf ship. Or maybe he's the guy up in the crow's nest, telling me to watch out for icebergs and stuff. He can only tell me where to go though." Scott began to play with her hair, his fingers getting entangled with the curls down her back. He let his fingertips massage her spine lightly. "The anchor is the most important. Definitely."
A smile tugged at the corner of Allison's mouth. "Turning a werewolf curse into some type of nautical simile...I think our study sessions are paying off."
She let her hand travel lower, feeling his hard stomach through the cotton material on her way down. She fumbled with the fly of his jeans.
"Well, I'm not as dumb as everyone thinks I am." He was watching her hand, noting how far south it had seemed to migrate.
Allison let her finger slip under the fold of denim covering the zipper. "I know you aren't." She dragged it up and down, feeling the ridges on her fingertip. "There's one subject we manage to never get around to doing in our study sessions." Allison pressed her palm down, wanting to feel the bulge she could see swelling there.
Scott moaned lightly, cautious that the sound could interrupt what was currently happening in front of him. It took all he had to keep his hips from inching forward into Allison's palm. Taking in a shaky breath, he asked her, "What are you doing?", anticipating the answer with each word he spoke.
"I can't help it, Scott." She looked up at him then, ready to show him what she meant. "If they're going to force us to break up, I'm not going to leave you a virgin."