paradoxical.

“I get that,”  Allison admitted.  “It’s not like I’m exactly easy on myself.  But I wouldn’t push anyone else the way I do myself, either.  As long as you’re okay– as long as you’re happy, and you aren’t hurt– that’s the important thing.”

Scar was quiet for a moment, before she smiled at Allison. “You’re a really great hunter, you know that? Not just a great hunter, but a great leader. I can see why your dad left you in charge. And, if it’s no bother, I would actually be honored to train with you, sometime. There aren’t a lot of people who can keep up with me, in training. And it’s always really nice to meet people who can.”

“I know,”  Allison said.  “And I’m not asking you to betray her secrets.  I just want to make sure that you’re okay.  If Cora hated it, and thought it was too much, what did you think?  You don’t have to tell me anything about Cora, but what about you?”

The redhead thought for a moment. “It isn’t the way I would teach my children, or anyone else,” she admitted. “But I always liked the intensity of it. I liked being pushed to my limit. I understand why Cora didn’t. I understand why anyone wouldn’t want to. But I always needed it. Being able to work through pain and exhaustion felt... empowering, I guess.”

Allison looked up a little sharply at Scarlett’s response, her eyes growing clouded with worry.  Initially, it had been a question borne more of curiosity than anything else, but Scar’s reaction made her worry about what the girls had done, and what had been done to them.  Had she walked out of the Emerson house too easily?  But Cora would have told her if there was anything else that she needed to know.  –Unless she was protecting someone; unless she thought she was doing what was right.  It made Allison feel sick, the though of any of them lying to each other or keeping things from one another anymore.  They’d done it when things were just beginning, and it hadn’t worked out well for any of them.  The secrets, the lies, they had piled up and created bigger messes than every before.  Since they had all come clean with one another, the pack was built on honesty and trust.  Of course, people were more than entitled to their secrets, but if something was relevant, important, necessary, they always shared it.  Allison would have to trust that Cora had done that now.  Yet…something about Scar’s answer worried her.

She shook her head. “I’m okay,” she promised. “The training is a lot, but it’s not what you’re thinking.” Or it might have been. Scarlett was obviously the last person to talk about what was worrying and what wasn’t. “But I don’t see things through Cora’s eyes. I can’t predict how you’ll feel about the way they trained us, either. And if you don’t like what I’ll have to say, you’ll talk to Cora, and she’ll feel betrayed because I told her secrets.” She had to sigh. The wolf was so damn secretive... “I can tell you this: Cora hated it. She didn’t like the way that we trained. She thought it was too much, especially for two kids, like us. But there were moments that she did like. There were moments that she was so proud of. And, in the end, she was happy there. She was happy with what she learned, and happy with the home she’d found.”

“I’m glad we were there, too,”  Allison said.  “And we were.  But Scar, it was lucky that we were.  Do you remember who those witches were?”

Scar shook her head. “We hunted more than a few people back in Boston. It wasn’t as bad as Beacon Hills, but we had to step in a lot. We tried to kill as little as possible. Those girls -- they could’ve been anyone.”

“No,”  Allison said, shaking her head.  “I don’t think Cora blames you at all.  She speaks highly of you, Scar, and of your family,”  She glanced over at the younger girl in the passengers seat and gave her a smile.  “The protectiveness, the worry, the meeting, that was all me.  Cora didn’t ask me to do any of that, and she’s never said a word against any of you.  In fact, she defended your family to me immediately after what happened, when I was, admittedly, a lot less calm than I am now.”  

She felt relieved when Allison told her that Cora didn’t blame her. Even if some of the blame did, realistically, rest on her shoulders, she wouldn’t have known what to do to get back on the wolf’s good side. She and Cora had a good relationship, and she didn’t want that to be ruined. She didn’t want things to change because of this. Even if they already kind of did.

“Great,”  Allison said with a smile to Scar as she gathered up her bag.  She headed out the door with Scar, shaking her head an waving her hand at her apology.  “Don’t worry about it,”  She said.  She hit unlock as they neared the car and started around to the drivers side.  “You were with Cora when that happened?  When you guys went after the witches who came after her?”

“I see,”  Was all that she said in response.  “That seems reasonable.”  The Argent family, after all, had their own containment facility after all, not that it was something Allison had put to use.

“That would be great, actually,” Scar responded with a smile, getting to her feet. She reached down and grabbed her bag from by her feet, and shrugging it onto her shoulder. “Mom? Dad?”

Her parents nodded. “Have fun,” her mother said. “Tell Mr. and Mrs. Rivers we said thank you. And if you can’t stay, call, and we can come get you.”

‘At times’ was something of an understatement, but Allison let it go.  Instead, she nodded as they spoke, glad to hear what they were saying.  Although something struck a memory, and she asked, “After they are detained, what typically happens to the witches next?”  Catching them had, after all, been what Kate had said she wanted Allison to help her do with Scott and Derek, and it had been phase one.  She had meant to catch them in order to kill them, and Allison wondered if this was the Emerson family modus operandi, or if they instead brought them to a place such as Eichen House.

“It would hurt them too much to take it off,” Cade added. “If that doesn’t work, there was a... containment center, owned by another family of hunters. The witches who found a way to get the bracelets off and still continued to hurt others would be taken there.”

“Killing is a last resort,” Scar finished. “But sometimes it’s the only option.” She had the battle wounds to prove it, and Cora would’ve, too, if not for her werewolf healing. What did her parents expect, though? Sending two children out into the field, they were bound to be overpowered and almost killed, on multiple occasions. They did what they had to do to survive, and she wouldn’t apologize for that. If it came down to her and Cora, or some random witches, she would always choose her family. She didn’t mind killing. Though it was never what she wanted to do, she didn’t care one way or another. Not when it came to the people she cared for.

Listening to Allison speak, Nina nodded in understanding. “I’m glad to hear that, as well, Miss Argent. And I do hope that Cora and Scarlett understand, as well. Our training for them can be.. intense--” What a fucking understatement. “--but we try to keep from crossing any lines they can’t come back from.” The woman looked to her daughter, her eyebrow lifted slightly. “Scarlett?”

“Cora and I never went out with the intention to kill,” the teen said. “It’s not something either of us enjoy doing. Everything we did, we did it in order to survive. But, yes, I understand. We shouldn’t kill, and we’re not hunters, anymore. We’re here in Beacon Hills to be a normal family.” As impossible as that seemed...

Cade nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned back to Allison. “We can talk to Cora about it, as well.”

Watching the Emerson family as she spoke, it was clear that they hadn’t had any idea what had happened.  It became apparent that Mrs. Emerson had assumed Allison would want to speak to her about something regarding Cora, but that it hadn’t been a play at all, and rather a general assumption.  Scar in particular seemed stunned and upset, and Allison understood; it had been a terrifying experience, it would have been if it had been any member of the pack.  It would be for anyone who learned of it, too.  When Scar reached for her hand, Allison rotated her wrist slightly, weaving their fingers together and giving Scarlett’s hand a light, comforting squeeze.  It was instinctive at this point; Allison had never been overly physically affectionate, though she’d never disliked physical contact, either.  But in her years with the pack, Allison had become extremely physically affectionate.  Werewolves were tactile, and physical comfort had become second nature to all of them.  It wasn’t unusual for them to touch one another’s arm when they talked, curl up next to each other, rest their heads on one anothers shoulders, throw their feet across them, or link arms.  They constantly seemed to absently be touching one another in some way, and when a member of the pack was in pain, whether it was emotional or physical, the rest of the pack was more comforting than ever.  It had become second nature to Allison both to experience physical contact, and to be someone people reached for if they were upset.  Pack or not, Scar was her friend, and Allison was always there for a friend.

When Scar spoke, Allison kept her face as calm as possible, listening to her as she explained.  When her parents spoke up, Allison nodded.  “Cora is alright, and that’s the important thing,”  She said.  “And I understand, of course, my family used to have a similar code.  I certainly would never condone leaving someone in danger.  But, with the situation at hand in Beacon Hills, I’m sure you can understand my concern.  It’s dangerous enough here without something like this happening.”  Pausing, she asked.  “I’m curious; if you don’t tell them to kill, what are their instructions?”

Glancing at Scar, Allison’s face remained as impassive as ever when she confessed to killing.  It wasn’t judgement she felt, it was sadness for her, and for Cora.  No one should have to know what it was like.  No one should have to teach themselves to feel alright with it.

Scar could feel her parents’ eyes on her, examining the way she acted around Allison. She was more affectionate than they were used to. Scarlett wasn’t used to it, either. She wasn’t this physical with her family. But when it came to the pack or Sandy, it was just natural for them to brush shoulders, or hug, or reach for each others’ hands. It was something she had grown used to, and while she knew better than to act that way in her home, the lines started to blur when someone from the pack walked through her front door. Regardless, she held her head high, and refused to let their gazes faze her.

“And we agree,” Nina said. “We’re aware of how much danger Beacon Hills is in, at times. And it has never been our intention to put you in anymore danger. When we send our children out, their instructions are to detain. We’ve taught them many ways to stop a rogue witch without killing them. How they deal with the witches is up to them. We taught them only to kill if they felt that they were at risk of being killed first.”

When Scarlett chose to sit beside her, Allison’s eyes flickered to her briefly, and the faintest smile directed at Scar tugged at the corners of Allison’s lips.  Whatever her reason for wanting to sit beside her– whether she wanted Allison to keep her safe, or wanted to keep Allison safe– it was a meaningful gesture.  It only solidified exactly what Allison liked about Scar so much.

Watching the Emerson parents as she spoke, Allison noted a hint of surprise when she mentioned Cora from Mr. Emerson, though Mrs. Emerson looked as though she’d expected that.  Yet she said she hadn’t heard anything of it.  Either she had heard what had happened but was playing a different hand, or she truly hadn’t, but had expected Allison’s visit would have something to do with Cora.  Either way, Allison made a note before turning slightly to look at Scarlett when her mother addressed her.

If Allison wasn’t entirely sure what Mrs. Emerson’s knowledge of the events were, Scarlett’s seemed clear: she didn’t know anything.  Nodding slightly, Allison explained the events of that night.

“Cora was attacked in the preserve, at her childhood home.  Two witches attacked and very nearly killed her.  In fact, had it not been for Lydia,”  Allison shook her head, her expression growing grim.  The wolves wouldn’t have gotten the sense preemptively, as Lydia had.  They felt packmates pain as it happened, and that had saved them many times before.  But Lydia felt things before they happened, and could even sometimes pinpoint locations.  While a packmate could track another member of the pack quite well, Lydia had saved Cora’s life that night.  “I doubt Cora would have survived.”  Allison finished, and though she swallowed down the shock of terror and sorrow that washed over her at the thought, some of it seeped into her voice.  But the Emerson’s cared for Cora, as well, after all.  No matter what happened, she couldn’t believe they’d have wanted her to be in that kind of danger.  “Thanks to Lydia, I was able to get to the house in time, and bring her to Dr. Deaton.  Thanks to both of them, Cora survived.  She explained to me that they were witches she had hunted with you– through your orders or alongside you, I don’t believe she said.  But she explained to me that your family had instructed her to kill certain members of their coven, and they had come seeking revenge.”

As she spoke, Allison watched the Emerson family closely, though not probingly.  Her hands remained still, her posture confident, her voice steady.  She felt a faint twinge of guilt that Scar was there, if only because she was normally much more carefree and friendly, especially around Scarlett.  She didn’t want to upset her with this information about Cora, either.  But she did feel that Scar had a right to know.  Scar and Cora were sisters in nearly every way; they were family.  If something like this had happened to Rory or Rollin, Allison would want to– need to– know, too.

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. They were careful. They were always so careful when they hunted. They never left behind any traces of what they’d done. There were never witnesses, never a trail for any family members to follow. Scarlett was too meticulous to leave behind anything that could put them at anymore risk, and Cora was so protective and efficient, she’d even found ways to keep Scarlett from leaving behind a scent. So how... how had she  been tracked down? How had something like this happened? 

Furthermore, how had she not known? She told Cora everything. After her job with Lux, she had told Cora about it. She hadn’t told the wolf who she had gone hunting with, but she’d told her everything else. There was nothing about her that her adoptive sister didn’t know. And she’d thought -- honestly thought -- that Cora told her everything, too. Sure, she didn’t know much about her previous foster homes, and there were certain things about the Hale’s that she didn’t know, either. But those were painful memories, and she knew everything else. The two of them had spent many nights, hidden beneath the covers of Cora’s bed, a flashlight between them, exchanging stories of their lives in hushed whispers and muffled giggles. Cora always called and told her about the things that she went through, even after she’d left them. So why hadn’t she told Scar about this? Why was this -- the one thing that mattered the most -- the one thing that she knew nothing about?

Putting her own questions aside, Scarlett reached over, placing a hand over Allison’s own. She wasn’t raised to be a comforter. She was raised to be detached, and to only show emotions like this when she needed to. This display of affection went against what her parents had instilled within her. (Emotions hurt, Scarlett. In this business, the best thing you can do is keep everyone at a distance. Because when they leave, they leave scars that don’t always heal.) But this was hard for Allison. From the sound of it, she had been the one to find Cora that night. Scar couldn’t imagine that. She couldn’t imagine hearing a banshee’s scream, a scream for Cora, and running to find the wolf on the brink of death. It wasn’t something she could even consider. And Allison had lived that. The thought of it was horrible, but that had been Allison’s reality.

Scar turned back to look at her parents. They had schooled their emotions into cold indifference, but she could see that they were angry. Normal people wouldn’t be able to tell. But Scar was a hunter. She had been taught to notice every tick, every sign of unease or deception. Her mother’s hands were clasped in her lap, holding onto each other too tightly. Her father’s jaw was clenched, and his middle finger on his right hand ticked -- the hand he used to shoot. It was always harder to hide emotion when it came to someone you loved. And her parents did love Cora. No matter how hard they tried not to. Her mother, at least, didn’t seem to have been expecting the news. Scar had to wonder how much her mother had known beforehand. Maybe she expected this would involve Cora, but not the news that came with her.

“I hunted with her,” Scarlett confessed. Her parents looked to her, waiting for her to continue. She looked back to Allison. “I always hunted with Cora. It’s tradition for us; no one hunts without a partner. She never hunted anyone if I wasn’t there with her. But... no one came for me. I don’t und...” Then, it hit her. Guilt hit her like a punch to the gut, but she swallowed it. “...Cora usually does the killing. She... she said she didn’t want it to ruin me, or anything. Whoever it was, they... the witches must’ve found some way to track it back to her, but not me. I’m sorry,” she whispered, mostly to Allison. Her parents hadn’t been the ones to find Cora. They hadn’t been the ones to save her life. “And thank you. If you hadn’t gotten there...” She stopped, refusing to even entertain the thought.

“We do thank you for saving Cora,” Cade continued, giving the Argent huntress a tight smile. “And we apologize for any trouble our training has caused your pack. We stopped hunting before we came to Beacon Hills. Whoever these witches were, we never meant to bring them to your home. We try to teach our children the same beliefs: you protect those who cannot protect themselves. But we also hunt those who have hunted others. If the girls were sent to hunt someone, it was under our command, and it was because that someone had harmed others before.”

“We never tell them to kill,” Scar’s mother tacked on, throwing her daughter a look. It was a blank look, but Scar knew the implications behind it. She had messed up. “I wasn’t aware that either of them had ever killed.”

“I’ve killed five,” Scarlett admitted, quietly. (Five, plus the others in Tatum’s pack.) She didn’t feel shame at what she had done. She killed those who threatened the lives of others. But this? What had happened to Cora? This intervention? She had never wanted this. “Cora has killed nine. Or.. more, maybe. If she...” If she killed the witches who had attacked her. Scar didn’t know. She didn’t want to ask.

Looking up as Mrs. Emerson entered the room, Allison smiled at her.  “Mrs. Emerson,”  She greeted.  “It’s nice to see you as well.  Mr. Emerson,”  She said, greeting Scar’s father.

Allison waited as the family had a brief discussion, and seemed to land on an agreement that Scar should stay.  Her eyebrow ticked upwards slightly at the ‘whatever this is’ comment, but she simply nodded politely and followed them to the living room.  “No, thank you,”  She said politely when Mr. Emerson offered her something to eat or drink.  She waited for them to be seated before taking a seat herself on the couch across from theirs.  Her hands folded neatly in her lap, and though she sat comfortably, she did not sink into the couch or settle the way she would if she was here to hang out with a friend.  This was, in essence, a business meeting, and she would treat it as such.

Before she could ask why her mother was trying to kick her out, or what her father meant by ‘whatever this is’, Scarlett was being shuffled into the living room. Her parents sat on the couch opposite of Allison, but Scar took a seat next to the girl. She didn’t really know why she’d made that decision; maybe she felt safer next to Allison, or maybe she wanted to protect Allison if her parents decided to lose their minds. Either way, she wasn’t moving from her spot. Her parents’ eyes flickered to her before looking to Allison.

Scarlett’s eyebrows knitted together at Allison’s words. “Cora?” She glanced at her parents, and only her father seemed even remotely surprised. Her mother, on the other hand, looked as if she had been expecting this.

Nina shook her head. “I’m sorry, we haven’t heard anything about the eclipse.” She turned her gaze to her daughter. “Scarlett?”

“Hey, Scar,”  She said with a grin.  “I’m here to talk to your parents.  Are they home?”  She wondered if they wanted Scarlett to sit in on the meeting; it would make sense to Allison if they did.  It was the kind of thing her family had done to her, before Allison had begun conducting meetings on her own.  A quick glance at Scarlett’s bag cleared up that question, though.  It looked like she was on her way out.  Not being terribly familiar with her family, Allison wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.  

Before she could further question it, her mother was laying a hand on her shoulder. “Miss Argent,” her mother greeted amiably, with a polite smile on her face. “It’s so nice to see you. Scar, why don’t you head out now? I’m sure Sandy will be waiting for you.”

“I haven’t called, yet,” Scar said slowly, looking between her parents -- both with polite, too relaxed smiles painted on their faces -- and Allison. Things were getting weirder and weirder by the second. “And... I think I’d like to stay for this.”

Her mother gave her a warning look. “Scarlett--”

The Argent family wasn’t just a hunting family, they were the original hunting family.  They were a long, aristocratic, dedicated line of hunters dating back to the 1700′s.  And though many other hunting families and groups adopted variations on codes similar to the original Argent decree, other hunters, hunting families, and groups, varied from them in many ways.  The Argent family was matriarchal, which meant that, for all intents and purposes, Allison was the head of the family now.  Even if her father returned to town, she would be; Allison was the oldest female in the Argent family, and with that came leadership.  And though not every family adopted this matriarchal standpoint, codes within the hunting community made certain things clear.  Just as Beacon Hills was Hale land and fell under Hale and McCall territory in the eyes of the supernatural world, it fell under Argent jurisdiction in the hunting world.  

Stepping onto the Emerson’s front porch, Allison raised her hand and knocked at the door calmly.  She hoped that the Emerson family would listen to reason and be respectful; whatever their beliefs may be, she couldn’t have them potentially bringing more danger to the doorstep of Beacon Hills.  Her pack already had a target painted on them; not just the pack, but the individuals within it.  The beacon flowing throughout the town was simply another addition to that.  Suffice to say they did not need any more danger or threats, nor did Allison ever– ever– want to find Cora the way she had the night of the eclipse.  Her feelings were as tactical and logical as they were emotional; she couldn’t let anyone hurt Cora, hurt her pack.  She wouldn’t let anyone hurt them.

Of course, she’d noticed how weird things had been lately. Cora had been doing everything in her power to avoid coming over, and her parents had maybe been trying too hard to get her to come back. Cora seemed to flinch whenever she saw her parents, and she had been oddly protective of Scarlett, as of late. Her sister hadn’t been the same girl that she used to know. Scar had expected a bit of awkwardness when her older brother had come to visit -- even if she didn’t know why those two had fizzled out, she was well aware that they had, even before Cora had been removed from the house -- but things had been relatively normal between the two of them. It was everyone else that Cora seemed to be running away from.