#allisonweek21

And it was senior year, which meant this was probably the last Halloween Scott and Stiles would get to spend together like this. He was trying not to think about that, though. He and Stiles were destined for separate schools and separate lives, but for the next precious few months, Scott was going to focus on the present and the time they did have. Tonight, unlike all of the trick or treaters walking around, he wanted to pretend to be normal.

The doorbell rang, and Stiles jumped up from the couch to grab the candy bowl.

“Okay, quick. Guess what they’re dressed up as. I’m betting it’s going to be… another skeleton. And spiderman,” He mused as he walked towards the front door.

Scott pressed pause on the game and looked up at Stiles with a grin. “But we’ve already had, like, four skeletons.”

As he reached for the door, Stiles tossed Scott a wink over his shoulder, as if he was confident about his predictions.

For a moment, there was just deathly silence. And then Scott heard the candy bowl crash to the floor.

“Stiles?” He got up off the couch in a hurry when there was no answer. “Stiles!”

Once he entered the foyer, it became obvious why Stiles was rendered speechless.

It was Allison on Scott’s doorstep. Her hair was matted with sticks and a tacky substance that wasn’t obvious upon a first look. But as Scott stared, disbelieving, he realized that there was blood all over her shirt, and down her neck.

“Allison?” Scott croaked out, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. She smelled of ash and death, and the pungent scent of blood was nearly overwhelming. He should have realized before, when he was on the couch. He felt deeply unsettled, but underneath all that, she still smelled the way he remembered her.

She tipped her head up slightly to make eye contact with him, her movements slow and sluggish. “Scott. I need…”

She couldn’t seem to finish. She opened and closed her mouth, and reached up to her neck.

“Why are you covered in blood?” Stiles asked, his voice sounding borderline hysterical.

She touched her fingertips to the side of her jaw, and then ran them down her neck gingerly. Scott felt frozen, like he couldn’t trust his own eyes. He hadn’t seen her since… since the funeral, after they’d cleaned her up and made her look like she was just sleeping. She definitely wasn’t sleeping now. And since Stiles saw her too, he wasn’t dreaming.

When she pulled her hand away, her fingers were dripping crimson.

“Are those bite marks?” Stiles moved towards her. Allison flinched, but didn’t back away from Stiles’ scrutiny.

“Shit,” Stiles muttered under his breath.

Scott willed his feet to step over the spilled candy to reach for her. He had to help, somehow. Either Allison was hurt or she was still in danger, and he had to find out which.

When Scott got closer, next to Stiles, he saw exactly what Stiles had seen. Two puncture wounds in Allison’s neck, blood still slowly trickling from them.

He felt his blood run cold. But he’d never turn her away, especially not now. Before she could take his hand, she collapsed in a heap. Scott was just in time to scoop her into his arms.

“Okay, she’s lost a lot of blood. We need a blood transfusion. Or Deaton. We need Deaton.” Stiles was rambling. Scott saw him get out his phone.

“And her Dad. Call Argent,” Scott said as he carried Allison into his house. “We need everyone.”