Chapter Text
When he gets the call, Scott’s laying in his bed, wearing only his boxers and trying to forget what it felt like to know he was going to die. Allison’s picture appears on his phone, and he answers without a second thought. Seconds later, he wishes he hadn’t. ”Scott?” The choked quality to her voice has him on edge immediately.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
A shaky breath is followed by, ”Did you know that Derek bit my mother?”
He almost drops the phone. “What?” All Derek would tell him before he had to leave the vet’s last night was that Victoria Argent wouldn’t be coming after him again. He should have known it wouldn’t be that simple.
”I guess not. She’s um - she’s dead, Scott. The bite killed her. Derek killed her.”
The reality of her words seeps in slowly, almost as though he’s been plunged into an icy river, and the freezing temperatures and the buffeting of the water are impeding his ability to think. “Allison, I - I’m so sorry. What do you need?” He is sorry - not because the woman who tried to kill him the night before is dead, but because the girl he loves just lost her mother, and it’s partially his fault.
”Right now? I need you to arrange a meeting with the rest of your pack.”
“Okay... Is there anything else you need?” He’s still only functioning at about half his regular processing capacity, but he’s starting to get the sense that something is deeply wrong, and there is nothing he can do to fix it.
”Scott, this meeting is crucial. If things aren’t handled very carefully, there’s going to be a bloodbath, so I need you to focus. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, definitely, but what about -”
”Call me when you’ve talked to Derek, alright? I have to go.”
He’s left staring down at his phone in numb silence until he hears a tap at his bedroom window. The noise is loud in his ears, but he barely would have heard it before - before. He scrambles out from under the covers and opens his window to admit a familiar head of curls, followed by the rest of his visitor’s lithe form. “Your heartrate’s elevated, McCall. Something wrong?” Isaac’s trying for his usual insouciant, borderline belligerent tone, but his efforts are wasted by the genuine note of concern and the answering rise of his own pulse. Scott doesn’t know how his missed it before, if Isaac has been right outside his house, which probably means -
“Wait - did Derek -”
Isaac quirks an eyebrow. “Send me to keep an eye on you in your fragile state? Yes, he did.”
Scott scrubs his hands over his face, too mentally and physically drained by the events of the last twenty-four hours to care. “You know what? Fine. I actually need to see him, and it’s probably best if you and the others are there, too.”
He goes from sarcastic to utterly serious in an instant, body tensing in anticipation of a threat. “Why? What’s going on?”
“Apparently when Derek saved me last night, he bit Allison’s mother.”
Recoiling, Isaac asks, “So, does that mean that she’s-”
“No, it didn’t turn her. It killed her.” At this, Isaac pales, and it’s clear he’s being confronted by the same reality as Scott is right now, about how narrowly the two of them escaped the same fate. Until now, the concept of dying from the bite had been just that, but now they have incontrovertible proof. It strikes Scott again what a god-complex alphas must have, to be able to so freely deal out death to some and dominion to others. And maybe he’s had an easier time reconciling with what he has become lately, but that doesn’t change the fact that something fundamental in him despises being under someone else’s control.
Visibly getting a hold of himself, his unexpected guest uses what Scott recognizes as his usual thirst for knowledge as a distraction. “So, what happens now?”
“Now? Now, I get dressed, and we sneak out of the house.” His mom will freak if she comes to check on him and realizes he’s not there, but he’s used to being in hot water with her at this point - he’s had plenty of practice over the last few months. He proceeds to put his words into action and then gestures for Isaac to vacate his room the same way he entered it. As he’s about to follow, Scott hesitates, checking his breathing. It still feels as though he’s trying to force air through cotton, so he grabs his inhaler and stuffs it into his jean pocket, then jumps, landing on all fours beside the waiting Isaac. “Let’s go.”