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reluctanthunter · 6 years

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How to save a life.

“. . .Are you sure you guys don’t need a ride? Legally I can fit five people in the car; with Lydia and Kira, we have two spots left.” Teeth skimmed Chapstick laden lips as she lifted those brown doll-like eyes to maintain contact with her former fling and now best friend, Scott McCall. From an outside perspective, it would look like the two were attempting to confess something but, it was nothing more than two friends trying to come to a car pull agreement. Which came to an end when his cheesy grin spread across his childlike, crooked face.

“As much as we would appreciate the ride, Stiles mom decided to volunteer. Said it would give her time to catch up on his school life and gave her a reason to act more, ‘mom-ish.’ Whatever that means. How about tomorrow after the game? That way we can all go out and celebrate.” Nodding her head in response, a small grin plastered its way onto her face as the two made plans for their little group of friends. After all, it would probably be relatively short-lived seeing as how Peter Hale was still on the loose and there was one event after the next. Being H U M A N and a T E E N A G E R for a while would do them all well.

So, with a wave of her hand, the young Argent’s arms were taken by the kitsune and banshee before she was pulled away to her car. It wouldn’t take all of ten minutes before she had Kira at home, waving goodbye to the young Japanese female whose mom was ushering her into the house. Another eight minutes and she would be tightening her grip around the red head’s torso before she parted ways for the evening. While they would have all loved to stay out and act normal for once, they had homework to do if they wanted to enjoy a normal weekend. . .At least, that had been the plan.

As soon as Allison began to back out of the driveway, her phone buzzed loudly against the plastic interior of her car causing a brow to arch almost perfectly. “Hey, where are you at? …. Can you come pick me and Stiles up from school? His mom was supposed to come get us, but she never made it. He’s worried.”

The rest of the conversation was lost as her heartbeat thundered within her ear canals. Yes, the sheriff was busy at times but a P R O M I S E was a P R O M I S E. If she didn’t pick the boys up, something must have happened. So, throwing her phone to the side, the young woman stepped on the gas pedal, easily making record time as she practically drifted into the parking lot, unlocking the door as Stiles made his way to the end of the parking lot.

To say the car ride to the Stilinski household was quiet would be an understatement. The tension within the room could have literally been carved with a knife; more so when they pulled up to the house and the woman’s police cruiser was pulled up beautifully at the house. Had she forgotten? That had been the thought when Stiles had run up to the house, using his key to open the door. But it became obvious that his mother was no longer in the house. Nor was she on the premises.

Gesturing in her general direction, Scott called her over when he saw a small dent that had not been on the house before; how he found it, she would never know. But once they got closer and dug into the trashcans…a brand-new cellphone practically in two made it clear. Deborah Stilinski had been taken. By who? Well, that would be left to Scott’s decent alpha nose.

Focusing on the task at hand, Stiles finally ran out of the house, looking as if he was about to give himself a panic attack. Which meant they spent a few seconds trying to get his attention…and only a few more for him to come to the same realization that his mother had been taken.

“Look, it doesn’t matter who they are or why they would take her. We’re going to get her back,” her vocal chords had pushed out as her eyes were set ablaze with new found determination. That was until Stiles had suddenly become calm, goosebumps forming on her skin as a shadow of remembrance coursed through her veins.

“You’re right,” he began. “We’re going to get her back. And the person who took her is going to wish they had never messed with her.” Normally, she would have high tailed it out of there and retreated to her room; hell, she didn’t even want to be standing there at that moment. Three weeks in the hospital had been enough trouble when the Nogitsune and the Oni decided to pierce her flesh with a blade that left a trail of pain behind. However, now was not a time to worry about that, they would do that later.

Swallowing thickly, the hunter tore her gaze away from the spaz of the group, looking towards Scott. “Smell and see if you can pick up her scent. We’ll follow your lead from there…”

Trailing off, the female could practically feel the bone-chilling glare upon the side of her head as Scott easily lifted the phone towards his nostrils, inhaling deeply. For a minute his brow creased as two very distinct smells hit his sense of smell. The first, a mixture of vanilla coffee and stress was almost unforgettable. After becoming a werewolf, he knew the scent of his honorary pack mother. The second was a cause for alarm because for the last few weeks…they had not been able to catch up with the beast known as Peter Hale.

“We need to go now. It’s Peter.” Without waiting for his friends to process the information, Scott took off which cued the turning male and his hunter friend to hurry after their hound.

Fingers gripped tightly onto the steering wheel as she followed Scott, the male beside her practically fuming in his seat. If tension had been high before, it was practically suffocating at that point. Silence ran throughout the car like a top charter, only growing louder as the beauty marked boy next to her stared out the window, contemplating what he would do to Peter Hale when he got there. “Stiles…?”

Suddenly, the glare was back on her, that voided entry almost making her cringe away from the male. “We’re going to get your mom back. She’s strong and…”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Allison. I would rather save my thoughts for what I am going to do to-“

“What you’re going to do to Peter? Stiles, I respect you, I do. But right now, without a shadow of a doubt, I know something’s wrong. Something very familiar and if you give into it, we’re going to not only have to deal with Peter but you as well. So, why don’t you just save your thoughts and focus on the task at hand? Getting your mom out. Not revenge.”

When her little piece was said, the car fell silent…until Scott suddenly stopped at an abandoned building not too far away from Deaton’s clinic. Pulling over, the female sent a quick text to her group chat with the females of the group before getting out of her car. Of course, Stiles decided to run off and Scott followed leaving the girl alone with her thoughts.

For months, she had been plagued with nightmares about the night she almost died. Picking up a bow had become a task…but, on the other hand, Deborah Stilinski…she owed that woman everything. While her friends were in class, the older woman would visit her in the hospital – making sure she had a new bouquet of flowers or a decent pair of fuzzy socks. She had snuck in pizza on her lunch breaks…and when she needed someone other than her pressing father to sit in on therapy sessions, the older woman had been there for her.

Thoughts were broken the moment she heard what can only be described as a ferocious snarl; meaning the fight had begun. Thumb moving across her key, the car trunk opened to reveal her bow and sling jam-packed with different arrows.

By the time she found her little friends, Allison could see exactly what sort of fight went down. Stiles, with a busted lip and the start of a few facial bruises, was struggling against the clawed hand that was pressed tightly against his neck. Scott was less than a few feet away with scarlet hues locked on the older male. And in the corner was a slouched over officer, blood, and bruises coating her skin.

Not much thought was put into the process of loading up an arrow, easily releasing it a few seconds later towards the wolf holding onto the male. Letting out a dry laugh, blue eyes flashed towards her. “Allison Argent, how nice of you to join us. I do have to say that your aim has become off centered, you should work on that.”

Rolling her eyes, she drew forth another arrow, her brown orbs locked on the older Hale family member.

“It was a warning shot. Let Stiles go or the next one will end up somewhere you don't like.”

As if her threat meant nothing, most likely because he was annoyed…which was evident now that she could see healing cuts and scratches that the two teenage boys had caused him, his fingers tightened further causing the boy to choke. More importantly, blood to well up from small puncture marks.

Time seemed to tick by as her fingers released the arrow, the soft whistle breaking through the silence as it suddenly twisted due to a draft, cutting through flesh and expensive clothing. Luckily, it had been enough for the male to release his grip on her fellow human but not lucky enough to derail his assault. Instead, he practically ran over Scott as he ran towards the hunter, avoiding any assault that would slow him down. Instead, he took it upon himself to first hit the younger woman, sending her stumbling backward. The next attack had gone in for the kill…until..

DINNNNNG.

And there went Jack, down the hill. Quite literally. Falling forward, Stiles standing above him with a steel bat, taking in shaky breaths. From there, he looked almost normal, shoulders tense as he stared at the knocked out wolf. “Y…you okay, Allison? Are you hurt?”

Shaking her head, the male dropped the bat before stepping backward, turning his attention back to his mom. Running over to her, the older woman began to gain consciousness, smiling up at her worried son to calm him down. When the younger woman had managed to get up with the help of the pack leader, limping over to the older woman, she leaned down to help Stiles remove the shackles from his mother’s wrists.

“Allison, maybe you should sit down.” Shaking her head, Allison managed to get one wrist free while the son of the sheriff in question got the other. Despite her own wounds, she was far more concerned with the teenagers who had quite literally knocked the socks off the beast. Not that it mattered, for as soon as Deborah Stilinski’s arms were free, they were wrapped around her “kids” hugging them as tightly as she could.

While the day had been less than ideal, the sun always shone brighter when things went right for the McCall pack.

#stiles stilinski #allison argent #scott mccall #teen wolf #fanfic

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reluctanthunter · 6 years

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Starbucks Worries.

Lips were pressed together to form a perfectly straight line, a glare evident on the young woman’s face as she attempted to intimidate her opponent. At least, it appeared that way with her locked hips, left leg resting comfortably in front of her right, waist turned at a slightly awkward angle so that her vision could remain straight ahead. Allowing her lips to part, she took in a deep breath just as her arm pulled back; her left arm simply lifting as the bow and arrow was easily pulled towards her face.

The broadhead arrow had been strung carefully before she had even bothered to lift the bow, her fingers gently taking hold of the compound bow’s strings once she was fully prepared to shoot the target less than fifty yards away. Suddenly, her gaze flicked away from her target, examining the device within her grip, making sure that the arrow rested gently against the arrow rest. She even went as far as to flex her fingers making sure the finger tabs that protected her damaged skin from further damage. If anything, she was simply wasting time until the wind picked up once again. After all, she loved the slight…

“Allison?” The male’s voice broke her out of her trance, her fingertips releasing the string. For a second, she could feel the arrow’s feathers brushing against her flesh before it fully left her weapon, making a slight whistling noise followed by a thump as it hit the bullseye of her target. “Woah, what did the potato sack ever do to you?”

Letting out a small laugh, the young woman lowered the bow turning towards the spastic boy, raising a brow at his little joke. “I think he may have spelled my name wrong at Starbucks; you should go ask him. Is it five already?”

When the male nodded his head, the female went towards her target – dislodging the arrow with a simple pull and twist motion before heading back towards her friend. “Remind me never to spell your name wrong.”

“Always.” Chuckling, Allison threw the bow over her shoulder much like a backpack would, following the brunette back to his jeep, leaving behind her worries in the forest.

#stiles stilinski #allison argent #drabble

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