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Gerard is out tonight, over to Oregon on some business, when Chris raps sharply on Allison's door. He steps in when she calls out her permission and crosses his arms across his chest when he sees her polishing her arrows with a methodical stare and furious hands. "Who are you? Because you're not my daughter."
Allison turns to Chris, her dark eyes flashing with anger as she snaps, "I'm just doing what you wanted me to, okay Dad? I'm joining the family business! I'm doing what's best for the town! I'm being a leader!"
"No," Chris snaps, "You're being a child."
His daughter drops the arrow that she's polishing onto her bed. Glancing up, her eyes narrowing as she hisses, "You said that women were the leaders."
"My father used to tell us that, and after seeing my sister and my wife being manipulated by him until they died, I figured that maybe it was time to step in before my daughter dies too," Chris's stare is unyielding, and his disappointment is almost like a slap to Allison's face, "Right now, I don't see a leader, Allison. I see a child who wants revenge. I see a little girl who can't do anything to ease her pain so she just does as she's told in the hopes that she can pretend."
Allison stands up, "Why do you want to keep them alive, Dad?"
In response, her father holds up the leather-bound copy of The Code that he's had since he was eight and says, "Because we don't kill innocents."
"He killed Mom!" Allison yells, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “How the hell is that innocent?!”
“Derek didn’t kill your mother, Allison.” Chris says as calmly as he can, “Your grandfather called her a monster, did you know that? He called her a thing. He said that she was already dead. He basically told your mother that if she didn’t kill herself, he’d make me do it. Or worse, you.”
Allison shakes her head, “He wouldn’t make me do that.”
“We used to live in Oregon, you know.” Chris says after a long pause. “When I was seventeen, my mother was bitten by a werewolf that tried to kill my father and before we knew if the bite would kill her or not, my father pressed a shotgun in my hands and told me to kill her. When I wouldn’t, he gave it to Kate instead.” He fixes his gaze onto Allison. “She was six.”
“…Did she…?” Allison doesn’t finish the question.
“At the end of the day, I didn’t have a mother and Kate killed her first innocent.” Chris turns to leave, but then hesitates at the door. “I love you, Allison, but when you’re at Death’s door because of your Grandfather, I can’t do anything to save you.”
“I’m not going to die, Dad.” Allison rolls her eyes.
Chris raises an eyebrow at her. “Would you like to know what your mother was doing when Derek bit her?”
“What?” Allison asks, exasperated and obviously irritated with the conversation. She throws her washcloth on her bed and crosses her arms across her chest.
“She was killing Scott.”
He knows from the widening of her eyes—Victoria’s eyes—that she didn’t expect to hear that. Her arms drop to her sides as she clenches her fists and tries to breathe evenly. Chris knows emotionally, that he would have rather that Derek let Scott die than biting Victoria, but he knows rationally, that he’s not sure that Allison would have made the same choice.
He leaves her like that, as she slumps to her knees with shock etched on her face.