So Stallison is a thing I ship now. I have no other words for this.
When she showed up soaked from the rain and red in the face, Stiles had half a mind to slam the door in her face. What gave her the nerve to show up at his house, his home, after what she'd done? But there were tears mixed with the rain drops on her cheeks. Stiles was a sucker for a crying girl, so he stepped aside to let her in before shutting the door.
After staring at each other in silence for a few moments, Stiles couldn't take it anymore. He threw his arms in the air and flailed a bit before settling into a glare that would rival Derek. "What are you doing here, Allison?"
The girl looked between his face and the ground a few times before whispering, "I had nowhere else to go." Her voice was more broken the Stiles had ever heard it. He thought she might break into tears again any second. He was torn between wanting to comfort her and confront her. His mouth decided on the latter before his brain could catch up.
"I'm flattered that you thought of me during your little crisis, but did you manage to forget that fact that you tried to kill all of my friends?" His voice rose as he spoke. "Or that your grandfather kidnapped and beat me, and you did nothing to stop it? I'm pretty sure I owe you less than nothing. So, tell me why exactly you thought you would just pop in for a visit."
Allison spoke so quietly he almost didn't catch it, "Tomorrow is her birthday." She crossed her arms around her chest, hugging herself. "I didn't- I didn't think-"
Stiles' anger melted away. Of course she came to him for this. He was the only one who would get it. Well, except maybe Derek, but that would not work so well. His lack of communication skills and general hatred for all things "Argent" wouldn't exactly be warm and comforting. So Stiles it was. He stepped forward and rested his hands on her shoulders.
"I know that's hard, Allison. I'm sorry. But I don't know what I can do to make it easier," he spoke softly. Hesitantly, he pulled her in for a hug. After a beat, shaky arms slid around his waist. They stayed like that for a minute or two before Allison pulled back and wiped her fresh tears from her face.
"Can I just stay here tonight? I don't want to cause any problems with you and Scott. I just- I don't want to be alone. Things aren't really good with my dad right now," her voice was stronger now, but it still wavered.
Stiles thought for a moment. Scott and the others would understand, wouldn't they? He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah, sure. You can stay here. Don't worry about the others. I'll explain it to them somehow." Allison nodded and began to head up the stairs. "I'm so screwed," Stiles whispered into the empty room, thankful there were no werewolves with super hearing anywhere close by, then followed the girl up the stairs.
To be honest, whenever Stiles had pictured a girl sitting on his bed dressed in his clothes, he figured it would be a post-coitus Lydia Martin basking in afterglow. Instead it was a wet and crying Allison Argent. She was swimming in his t-shirt and pajama pants; her hair was in a messing bun and still dripping. Her face was flushed and a little puffy from crying. Yet she still looked beautiful. Stiles couldn't help but think she'd looked more beautiful than ever. She looked vulnerable. It was a side of Allison Argent no one saw. Stiles wasn't even sure Scott had even seen her like this. Allison prided herself on being strong. But here she was. Breaking down on Stiles' bed, and he didn't have a clue what to do about it.
"So, um, I guess you can sleep on the bed and I'll sleep on the floor," Stiles shrugged and threw a blanket and pillow down next to his desk.
"Stiles, you really don't have to do that. I'm imposing-"
"Allison, please. You're my guest and I am a gentleman," He gave her a lopsided grin, "I am sleeping on the floor."
She let out a small giggle, and the Allison he once knew returned for a brief moment. Her smile slipped back into the slightly numb expression she wore as of late. Stiles had to hold back a sigh. He opened his mouth, not quite sure what he was going to say. It didn't matter because there was a resounding knock on his door.
"Stiles, I brought home some of that eggplant stuff you like," his dad began as he entered the room. He stopped short once he saw that a very sad female was sitting on his son's bed. He looked from Allison to Stiles before speaking "Stiles? What is this about?"
"Dad, let's talk in the hall," he threw an apologetic smile at Allison before ushering his father out the door. "Okay, here's the thing-"
"That's the Argent girl," his dad cut him off.
"The one that used to date Scott" It wasn't a question.
"Um, yeah," Stiles shrugged.
"Are you seeing her now?" Stiles eyes blew wide at his father's accusation.
"What? Oh my god! No. Most certainly not," he shook his head furiously. His dad looked at him, waiting for an explanation to whatever it was that was going on.
"Dad," Stiles sighed deep and heavy, "She's having a bad time with some stuff. Mom stuff."
His father stilled. There was a small flash in his eyes, but he nodded. He headed toward his room, but turned around for a moment. "Well, make sure she calls her father and tells him where she is. Last thing I need is an angry Chris Argent on my hands."
Stiles chuckled. "Night, dad," he called down the hallway. The sheriff waved behind him, went into his room, and shut the door behind him.
Stiles went back into his room only to discover that Allison had fallen asleep. He made his way over to the bed and pulled the covers up around her. He settled himself down on the floor and waited for sleep to kick in.
Stiles awoke with a bang. Literally. His head hit the leg of his desk.
"Shit," he groaned. Rubbing his throbbing head, Stiles stood up and stretched. He looked over to his bed but it was rumpled and empty. Confused, he headed out the door and down the stairs.
He followed what sounded like giggling to the kitchen. Sat at the kitchen table was his dad and Allison, smiling over a plate full of pancakes. Not just any pancakes might Stiles add, but the famous Stilinski pancakes. His dad always made them when Stiles needed cheering up. Apparently it worked on other people too.
Stiles smiled at his dad and settled into the chair across from Allison "I hope there are some left for me."
"Of course, Son," his dad got up and placed a plate in front of him. Stiles dug in promptly.
"Your dad was telling me about the time you nearly destroyed the kitchen trying to recreate the pancake recipe," Allison smiled at him. She seemed much better than the night before.
"Dad, I thought you were better than telling embarrassing stories to the ladies that sleep over," Stiles mock complained at his father.
"Well to be fair I haven't had a chance to do so yet," his dad shrugged.
"Dad, come one,' he glared at the back of the man's head while Allison covered her laugh with her hand.
"I'm just giving you a hard time, son. Anyway, I have to head to the station. It was lovely to see you Allison," He patted the girl on the shoulder, "You're welcome in the Stilinski home anytime." He waved goodbye and headed out the door.
"You dad 's really nice," Allison spoke quietly but with fondness.
"Yeah. I think he likes you," Stiles thought about it for a second. "Everyone usually likes you actually."
Allison looked down at her now empty plate," Your friends don't."
"Well they have a good reason, Allison," his voice even, "you did try to kill them."
"I didn't want to kill them all. Just Derek," she bit out the Alpha's name like it left a bad taste in her mouth.
"I am not getting into that with you. Not today," Stiles sighed. This would be the worst possible time to talk about it, but he knew they would have to eventually. He was the only one that could put Allison straight. He had to fix the group. It's what he did.
Allison was quiet for a moment, "Will you-um- will you-"
"Yeah I'll come with you," Stiles gave her a sad smile. "Your clothes are in the dryer by the way."
She nodded and get up from the table. As Stiles was cleaning up, his phone rang. The screen flashed with Scott's name. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and finished the task at hand. There would be time for explanation later.
The car ride had been quiet, Stiles strumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel of his jeep. But nothing was as quiet at the still calm of the cemetery. Not a soul was around, well as far as Stiles knew, but he refused to think about that.
They stopped in front of Victoria's grave. It looked just like the others but it was clearly different. The feeling even got to Stiles. His heart hurt for the girl next to him. She had once been so sweet and happy. Oblivious to the heart wrenching terror that surrounded her. Then she was dragged in and spit out. And what did she get out of it? Now she was broken, as broken as the rest of them. They were all just shells of their former selves and Stiles didn't know how to fix it.
Allison knelt down with the flowers Stiles had picked up at the grocery store. She placed them on the ground in front of the headstone. Rubbing her hand across the chiseled stone, she whispered, "Happy Birthday, Mom."
She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood. Stiles didn't really know what to do, so he grabbed her hand and linked their fingers. When she squeezed back, he knew it had been the right thing to do.
They stood that way for what seemed like ages. Eventually she looked up at him, "Do you want to see your mom?"
Stiles shook his head "This was about you and your mom. Not me and mine."
Allison nodded and said goodbye to her mother once more. Stiles led her back to the jeep and they began the descent back to his house.
He started the car. Looking over and seeing her blank expression made his heart crack again. "When my mom died, I used to get these panic attacks. I'd get them all the time. Whenever I passed the elementary school-she worked there. Whenever I smelled her perfume. Anything that reminded me of her."
Allison nodded but didn't say anything so he continued.
"But as time when on, I got the attacks less and less. Now, I only get them in dire situations. It's actually odd I haven't had once since all this werewolf business began. Anyway, what I'm saying is that it will always hurt, but the pain gets manageable.
"Thanks," Allison leaned against the window. "For all of this, Stiles. Really."
"Hey what are friends for?" he smiled, keeping his eyes on the road.
Allison hesitated, "Are we?"
"Are we friends? After everything that happened, I would understand if we weren't." She actually sounded depressed at the thought of losing Stiles' friendship. Had they even really been friends to begin with?
Stiles reached over and placed his hand on top of hers in between them. "Hey! Of course we're friends. Us humans have to stick together, you know."
"What about the others? I doubt they're going to be as quick to forgive as you were." As far as Stiles could tell Allison was remorseful for what she did. Surely the others would see that and understand. Hell, theykilled Peter and he forgave them.
"They'll come around, Al. Just give it time," he patted her hand, hoping that what he said was true.
Stiles made fettuccini for dinner. Allison had mentioned it was one of her favorites to help her mom make, so Stiles let her shred the cheese for the sauce. They traded stories about their mothers, and for once it wasn't hard for Stiles to talk about her. They were laughing about Stiles' mom accidentally shaving off his dad's eyebrow when the sheriff himself walked in.
"Well, hello Allison. I see my son has made you his famous fettuccini," the sheriff smiled.
"Allison helped make the sauce actually," he beamed at her and was rewarded with a smile as well.
"Well I'll bet it's delicious," his dad went to scoop some pasta out of the pan.
"Oh, no. That is not for you. You get the wheat pasta," Stiles pulled a pan out of the oven. His dad grumbled before taking the noodles from his son.
Allison's phone rang as the sheriff settled at the table. Her smile dropped for a second, replaced by one that stretched her face a little too tight. "It's my dad. I'll take this in the living room."
Once she was out of sight, Stiles' father turned to him. "So I ran into Scott today. He was with the Lahey kid."
"Oh," Stiles knew this conversation couldn't end well.
"Yeah, he said they came around but you weren't here."
"You didn't tell them I was with Allison, did you?" Stiles could feel panic rising. He wasn't ready to confront the issues with his friends just yet.
"No, but I think you should," the sheriff set his fork down and looked at his son. "Do you think it's a good idea to spend all this time with that girl and not tell your best friend? Especially if he is still in love with her."
"Dad, it's really complicated okay. Allison did some things she's not proud of and now she's kind of on the outs with her friends. I'm the only one she can talk to."
"Well I'm glad you're being a good friend to her, but don't forget what she means to Scott. I know how things were between you and Lydia-"
"Dad there is no me and Lydia. There never was. It's Lydia and Jackson, and that's that." Stiles rubbed his hand through his hair.
"I just don't want to see you get your hopes up only to be crushed again," his dad spoke softly.
"I know, Dad. Thanks, but I'm okay."
Allison came back into the kitchen, tears in her eyes but not worse for the wear. "Hey Stiles, do you think we could watch a movie or something?"
"Yeah, sure. We can do that." Stiles stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. He nodded at his father before heading into the living room. Allison plopped onto the couch. Clearly she didn't want to talk about her phone call with her father.
Stiles started flipping through his collection of DVDs. "What are you in the mood for?" When he got no answer he looked back to her. She was staring at nothing and playing with her necklace. "Allison?"
"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Anything really." Allison waved her hand in the air.
"Okay, how about Love, Actually? Everyone loves Love, Actually." Stiles waved the DVD in front of him. Once she shrugged, he placed the disc in the player and hit play.
A few hours later, Stiles woke up to the feeling of Allison's head on his shoulder. Moving carefully as not to wake her, he placed her on the edge of the couch and went to turn off the movie. Looking at the time, he saw that it was 11:49. Rubbing a hand over his face, he went back to the couch to retrieve Allison.
He didn't think twice before taking her upstairs and plopping her on his bed. He didn't think twice about tucking her in. He didn't think at all when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night. He simply climbed into the bed and grabbed her in his arms.
He began talking. He talked about everything and anything. Eventually, Allison started asking him questions, and giving her own answers in return. Before Stiles knew it, it was 5 am and Allison had fallen asleep against his chest. Satisfied that she was going to be okay, he began to slip out from under her. But Allison only gripped him tighter. Stiles decided it was a better bet just to get comfortable. He fell asleep faster than he thought he would.
Stiles awoke with an unfamiliar weight on his chest. He opened his eyes and saw a sea of dark hair. He instinctively tightened his arms around Allison's waist. She shifted at that and looked up at him with bleary eyes.
"Hey" her voice was hoarse from sleep. It was unbelievably sexy and Stiles never wanted to hear it again.
"Hey. Was I dreaming or did you say you loved Mario Kart last night?"
"I did," Allison nodded against his chest. Wow he really needed to get out of this predicament as fast as he could. Think of Scott. Think of Scott.
"Right, I hate to ruin this moment. But, you've got to go home today. You can't hide at casa de Stilinski forever and I can't keep avoiding Scott's calls." Allison got up from his grasp and Stiles thanked the universe that he didn't have morning wood.
"You're right. I've got to get going. I'm sorry to have overstayed my welcome."
"Allison, no. You are welcome any time, you know that," He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and got out of bed. "It's just that these past couple days, stuff like that can never happen again unless we fix things with everyone else."
"You mean our friendship, or the cuddling?" Allison had a small smirk on her lips.
Stiles blushed, "Not the cuddling! Well, I mean enjoyed it, but that's not the point. We're friends no matter what. It's just Scott- Scott! He's my best friend and he loves you and-" Stiles was pacing at this point, arms flailing about.
"I get it Stiles, Scott comes first. As he should," She smiled sadly, "I hope to have a friend like that one day."
"What about Lydia?" Stiles was sure they were best friends, though he didn't really understand girl friendships. Too catty.
"Lydia isn't speaking to me. Not since she discovered everything about my family," Allison crossed her arms and blinked, trying to keep the tears from coming.
Stiles stepped forward and enveloped her in a hug, "Hey, we'll just add her to the list of people we need to fix things with. It's going to be alright. Now, let me drive you home so we can start on said list."
After dropping Allison off, Stiles dialed Scott's number and waited. He listened to Scott yell about Stiles not answering his calls. He waited until Scott went off on a tangent before asking where he was. Of course, because the universe was playing a joke on Stiles yet again, Scott was with Isaac at Derek's house.
Stiles headed through the woods, parked in front of the dilapidated house and got out of the jeep. He rubbed a hand through his hair and made his way inside.
Before he could even mutter a greeting, he was being slammed into a wall. Oddly enough it wasn't Derek, who was standing across the room glaring. Typical. No, it was Scott that had him pressed against the rotting wood. Isaac was right behind him, sniffing. Oh the smell thing. Shit.
"Why do you smell like Allison?" Scott gritted through his teeth.
"Because she's been staying at my house?" Stiles winced, knowing that the coming talk was going to be extremely unpleasant.
"What?" resounded from all three werewolves. Scott backed off enough for Stiles to slip out and move to the other side of the room.
"She was having a hard time and had no one to go to," Stiles threw his arms in the air, exasperated.
"She plotted to kill Derek, stabbed Isaac, and broke up with me! Why would you talk to her?" Scott looked so betrayed. That's what set Stiles off.
"How many times have you fucked me over for her, Scott? If she wanted to get back with you right now, you would jump at the chance. So don't give me that bullshit," Stiles was in Scott's face, the fact that the other boy could tear him apart not fazing him in the slightest. "You would drop everything for her but you don't even know her. Did you know yesterday was her mom's birthday? That it was tearing her apart so much that she ran away?"
The look on Scott's face proved he hadn't known. Stiles continued his rant, "It's not like you could've done anything. Comforting isn't your forte. Especially in her situation."
Scott finally snapped, "I was with her for months. You spend a couple days with her and you think you know her better than I do?"
"I know she is allergic to Penicillin, I know that she nearly lost a toe when she fell off her bike when she was six, I know that she used to dance around the house so much that her mother called her Allie Ballerina. Did you know any of that? No you didn't. Because your head was so far up your ass, no wait, so far up her ass that you never actually got to know her as a person. And she's a pretty freaking awesome one. Yeah, she screwed up, but so has every single one of us. Allison is trying really hard to get past what happened with her family and she wants to make amends." Stiles finally took a breath. He could hear a faint chuckling coming from behind them.
Derek was laughing humorlessly. "This is a fucking joke."
Stiles furrowed his brows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"You're in love with her."
"What? No I'm not! I've only really talked to her for a few days. You can't fall in love that fast," Stiles frantically waved his hand in the air and shook his head.
"It only took me a day," Scott whispered before taking off out the front door. Isaac glared at Stiles before taking off after Scott.
"Damn it," Stiles kicked the sunken couch next to him.
"You must really be a masochist. First Lydia, now this. Do you always fall for the ones you can't have?" Derek was glaring so hard Stiles thought his eyes would pop out of socket.
Stiles sighed. He didn't have the energy to argue anymore. "It's not like that, Derek. She just needed someone. I was there."
"She'll screw you over. She's an Argent, it's what they do." Derek wasn't looking at Stiles anymore. He was leaning over the couch and looking down at the ground. Stiles saw right through his words.
"She's not Kate. Derek, she's not like that," he leaned toward the Alpha, speaking softly.
Derek's head shot up, "They're all the same! They get to you. They make you think you're special, important. They weasel into your life and destroy everything! Did you not learn from Scott? From me?"
"I just came here to fix things with the group. But clearly you do not want to," Stiles clenched his fist. How was Derek not getting it? Allison was different. Oh, God. He's worse than Scott.
"There's nothing to fix," Derek said simply.
"Oh, right. We puny humans aren't good enough for your pack. Is that it?"
"No, Stiles. You're pack. Allison is not. End of story. Nothing can change that," Derek turned and head up the stairs, not waiting for Stiles' answer.
Stiles was exhausted by the time he reached home. The day had not gone how he planned at all. His Alpha was more pissed than usual. He got into a fight with his best friend, over a girl of all things. That girl being one he refused to believe he had feelings for.
He closed the front door behind him and hit his head against it. He was sliding to the floor when he heard his father's voice.
"Oh, good. You're home." His dad came around the corner, expressing confusion once he say his son's position. "You okay?"
"Not really, Dad." Stiles grumbled.
"Well just so you know I ran into Chris Argent today. He wanted to thank you for helping out Allison," Stiles hit his head against the door again, "Also, he told me they're leaving tonight."
At this, Stiles leapt from the floor. "What? Where are they going?"
"Moving up to Washington. They have some family there. He said it's too much for them to stay here. I can understand where he's coming from." The sheriff nodded sadly and patted his son's shoulder.
"Have they left yet? Oh my god, Dad I have to go." Stiles shot out the front door and raced to his jeep.
Once on the road, Stiles quickly dialed Allison's number. He got her voicemail. Cursing, he stepped on the gas and sped down the street. He turned into Allison's driveway to see Chris packing bags into the car. Stiles jumped out and ran to him. "Where is she?"
"Stiles?" Allison came from the front door, bags in hand. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard you were leaving. I came to say goodbye." The look on Allison's face broke his heart. She looked torn between a grin and a sob.
Chris came between them and grabbed the bags from his daughter, "I'll be in the car." With a nod at Stiles he turned away.
"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Stiles hoped that she couldn't hear the hurt in his voice.
Allison ran her hands up and down her arms. "I didn't know until I came home today. Apparently running away and staying with random guys means I'm not in a good place right now. You think it would have been the attempted killing spree."
Stiles snorted at that. "But I'm not a random guy. I'm Stiles."
"I know. And I'm grateful. I don't know what I would have done without you this week." She took a step toward him. "Sometimes I wish I would have met you first."
Stiles sighed and took another step forward. "Yeah , me too. Can you imagine it? Just two normal human teens dating."
"Instead of fighting bad guys we would go to the movies. Instead of dealing with werewolves we would deal with curfews." Allison smirked.
"I would chivalrously let you win at Mario Kart," Stiles added.
Allison rolled her eyes, "Yeah, let me win."
Stiles put his hands up in front of him "Whatever you say, Miss Argent."
Laughing, Allison grabbed Stiles by the flannel and pulled him close. Her laughter died down. "Too bad we can't be a romantic comedy," she whispered.
He looked down into her eyes and felt his chest tighten. "Yeah. We got stuck in a tragedy, didn't we?"
The two looked at each other for a moment before Allison leaned up. She put her hands on the back of Stiles' neck and put their mouths together softly. She pulled away and it was over as soon as it began. That happened to define them perfectly.
"Thank you, Stiles. For everything," she told him. He could only smile at her.
"Thank you, Allison." He touched their foreheads together.
"For being you. For not hiding who you are from me" Stiles whispered.
The girl let out a watery laugh. The two finally separated.
Allison opened her car door and turned back around.
"Tell Scott, tell the others-" she wiped a few stray tears, "Tell them I'm sorry."
"I will," Stiles was fighting back tears himself. How had this girl affected him so much?
Stiles listened to the door slam and watched the car pull out of the driveway. He watched them until they disappeared around the corner. Then he got back in his jeep, wiped the tears from his eyes, and started towards his next destination. He was going to salvage at least one relationship that night if it was the last thing he did.
Stiles knocked on Scott's bedroom door a few times but got no response. Ms. McCall had said he was in, so Stiles figured he was being ignored. He took a chance and let himself in.
Sure enough, Scott was lying on his bed with a pillow over his face. "I didn't answer for a reason."
"I know, man. But I really think we need to talk about this." Stiles nudged Scott over with his leg and made himself a spot in the bed.
"I'd rather not," Scott mumbled into his pillow.
Stiles took the pillow and threw it across the room. He turned to his best friend. "Allison's gone."
"I know, she called me. Kept saying she was sorry." Scott sounded like he believed her, so that was a good start.
"Yeah, she told me to tell you that," Stiles chuckled rubbing his hands together in front of him.
Scott turned toward him, "You saw her?" Stiles nodded. "Did anything happen?"
Stiles swallowed. "We kissed. I mean she kissed me. I just kind of reciprocated it. It was small. Not anything really."
Scott frowned up at the ceiling for a moment before breaking into a grin.
"What?" Stiles asked.
"I guess we're even now." Scott began to laugh lightly.
Stiles thought back to the full moon when Scott kissed Lydia. "Yeah, I guess we are. Man, I never thought we would be those cliché best friends that fight over girls."
"Can we never do that again, please? It was exhausting trying to hate you." Scott smiled up at him.
"Agreed." Stiles grinned.
"Do you want to stay over tonight?" Scott sounded like he was already falling asleep. Stiles just scooted him over more and moved down onto the bed.
"Hey, Scott. We're going to be okay, right?" Stiles whispered in to the room.
"We're already okay dude," Scott mumbled, "We're brothers. This friendship is for life."
"Yeah, I know. Do you think we'll be okay though? I mean after everything this year, do you think we'll ever have normal relationships?" Stiles couldn't see anyone putting up with lifestyle. Werewolves were an acquired taste.
"I think we'll find what we're looking for when we need to find it," Scott responded.
"Whoa, when did you become the Yoda here?" the two boys laughed quietly.
"Well either way, we have each other and the pack. So we're never really alone." Scott slapped Stiles on the back before turning away from him. "Now go to sleep."
"What you don't want to cuddle?"
"Go to sleep, Stiles." Scott growled.
"Okay, okay. Night."
Eventually Stiles drifted off. He dreamt of dark cascading hair and wolves running through the forest. He dreamt of bright smiles and sharp teeth. He wasn't sure if his dreams were bleeding into reality or vice versa. Either way, he smiled in his sleep.