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Two days after coming back from France Allison transferred all of her notes into a binder and a USB. Three days later she asked her father to tell her about the hunter families living in America. He gave her a list that was ten pages long. Underneath each family name was the code they lived under. A couple of the names were in red.
“Gerard’s allies,” her father warned her, “I’ve cut ties with them.”
When Allison was done archiving everything, she called Stiles to invite him over to her house. He didn’t answer any of her calls. She went by his house a couple of times but either his jeep was gone or the sheriff’s cruiser was in the driveway. Allison didn’t want to talk to Stiles with his father in the house. A week after she first called Stiles, Scott called her.
“I just want to talk to him about a few things I found,” Allison explained to him. She looked at the papers strewn across her room, “I think he has a right to know.”
“Um,” Scott let out a hiss, “He’s just,” he said, “the thing is,” Scott huffed, “So a couple of weeks ago, Peter kind of cornered him in the library—“
Allison stiffened, “And?”
“….And he told Stiles some things. About your family. About what they’ve done.”
She groaned. Allison didn’t doubt that Peter knew everything sin the Argent’s had committed against the Hales.
“I see,” she frowned, “I still need to tell him, Scott. Even if Peter already told him everything, I still need to tell him.”
She heard Scott exhale, “Ok, ok…I’ll talk to him.”
A few hours later, Allison received an e-mail from Stiles inviting her over to his house the next day. She accepted his invitation.
Allison stopped by the cemetery before going to Stiles house. She stared down at her mother’s gravestone and ran her fingers down the cold, smooth, stone.Allison wondered if her mother had known what Gerard had done. If she had known that Stiles was an Argent. Suddenly, Allison felt a pair of eyes on her. She turned around. Derek Hale stared back at her. His eyes flashed red. Allison inhaled sharply. Her hand closed around the knife in her bag but Derek made no move toward her. He just stood there, looking at her.
My mother is dead because of you, Allison thought, she’s dead because of you. She blinked and slowly let go of the knife. Then she noticed the flowers Derek was holding. Her stomach dropped. You killed my mother, her mind repeated, and my family killed yours. Allison didn’t know how long they both stood there staring at each other but eventually Derek dropped his gaze and turned left. Allison watched him go. When she couldn’t see him anymore she quickly walked back to her car. As she left, Allison wondered how often Derek stopped by to visit his family.
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Stiles was waiting for her outside. He stood up as soon as she parked. Allison grabbed her bag and mentally prepared herself as she stepped out of the car. When she walked up to him, she had a smile on her face.
“Hello Stiles.”
“Hey,” he didn’t meet her eyes, “Come on,” he turned around and opened the door to the house, “come on in.”
Allison followed him inside and tried not to stare at the pictures on the wall. Stiles moved toward the kitchen and sat down at the table. Allison sat down across from him.
“You want a soda or something?” he asked his voice soft but guarded.
“No thanks,” Allison said. She moved her bag closer, “How are you, Stiles?”
He blinked and rolled his shoulder a little, “Good,” he snorted, “I mean, as good as one can be, I guess, after,” he rolled his eyes and waved his hand around, “all the shit I’ve learned. What about you?”
“I’m ok,” Allison tried to meet his eyes but Stiles refused to look at her, “I wanted to talk to you about what I found on my trip to France,” she took out a notebook from her bag, “I found some records our family—“
“Your,” Stiles said, his voice hard, “Your family, Allison. I’m not an Argent,” his voice shook on her name, “I’m not.”
But you are Allison wanted to shake him whether you like it or not, you’re the son of Gerard Argent.
“I found some journals and other records,” Allison continued, “I found out that Derek wasn’t the only one—“
“Wasn’t the first Hale to be seduced by an Argent?” Stiles hissed out, “Did you find out about Regina Argent EDWARDS?” he stood up, “did you find out about how she killed more than half the Hales before she was killed by the Alpha back in 1935?”
Stiles paced around the kitchen, “Did you find out about Peter’s brother, seduced by your great-uncle in 1972 in the hopes of killing the rest of his family off?” he stopped in front of her. His mouth was twisted into a smile, “is that what you wanted to tell me?”
Allison glared at him, “Scott told me that you talked to Peter.”
Stiles sat back down. His eyes bore into hers.
“Tell me he’s lying,” he begged her, “tell me that Peter lied to me. Please.”
Allison swallowed, “No,” she answered, “Peter didn’t lie to you.”
Stiles winced. Allison pressed on,
“I don’t know what he told you,” she said, “but he was probably telling you the truth,” because Peter knew the truth would hurt so much more than a lie, “Regina planned to kill the Hales for months. Both her parents knew about her plans and supported her. My great-uncle Beau tried to get information from Robert Hale to kill the rest of the family. Gerard and their parents thought it was a good idea,” she took a breath, “Kate saw an opportunity to finish what Regina and Beau started and she took it.”
“Wow,” Stiles laughed, “Wow that…” he bit his lip, “Wow…I think,” Stiles shook his head, “I think maybe you should go,” Allison frowned, “you should really go.”
“No,” Allison said, “I’m not leaving.”
“Please go” Stiles moaned, “You were right, ok? Peter wasn’t lying. You can go.”
Allison frowned, “I didn’t come here just to tell you about my family. I also came to tell you about what’s been going on in the hunter community.”
“Um,” Stiles clicked his tongue, “No offense Allison, but I kind of don’t really care what’s going on with them.”
She smiled, “Hours after his death everyone was talking about how Gerard Argent was a cold-blooded killer,” she paused, “some called him a hero,” Allison looked at Stiles, “they were also talking about how, apparently, he had another son.”
Stiles stared at her.
“News travels fast in our community,” Allison said, “Before we left for France people were already talking,” Stiles looked at her in horror, “they were talking about how Gerard Argent had another son,” her eyes twitched, “a son raised in Beacon Hills when Talia Hale still lived,” Stiles chocked, “they’re curious.”
“Awesome,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “so what? We got to keep a look out for more crazy hunters coming to Beacon Hills?”
Allison huffed, “After everything that went down—after all of Gerard’s secrets—“ she didn’t miss Stiles flinch, “came out no hunters would dare come here.”
Stiles opened his mouth, “Despite what you think,” Allison glared at him, “Despite what you heard” despite what you lived, “Hunters are not cold blooded killers.”
“Hunters are supposed to protect people,” her father told her, “we’ve never—we were never supposed to kill any and all werewolves. We hunt those who hunt us—that was the Argent code. There are hunters that ally themselves with established packs,” Allison had been surprised to hear that, “and it works. If there is a feral wolf or pack, the werewolves alert the hunters and help them get rid of them.”
“Derek knows I’m Gerard’s son,” Stiles blurted out.
Allison blinked.
“He came to see Peter when I was there,” Stiles shuddered, “God the look in his eyes…he looked so…” he shrugged, “betrayed. I just—“ he scoffed, “he still blames himself you know. He thinks he’s the reason his family is dead. It’s not his fault,” Stiles licked his lips, “It was all Kate. It was all her.”
Allison’s nodded, “Dad says that you should be safe. You’re only an Argent in blood; you weren’t raised in the hunter community so you’re off limits.”
“Until they find out that my best friend is a werewolf,” Stiles sounded tired, “they’ll come after me then, won’t they?”
“Nobody will come after you,” Allison repeated, her voice hard, “No hunter in their right mind would dare set foot in Beacon Hills after what Gerard and Kate did.”
Stiles sniffed but said nothing.
“I know that Peter,” Allison’s lips curled slightly, “already told you what happened with Regina, Beau and Kate—“
“Among other things,” Stiles whispered. She ignored him.
“Here,” Allison opened her bag and passed him her notes and the journal she had found in Kate’s trunk. Stiles took them. He opened the journal. His mouth dropped opened.
“I—thanks,” he let out a sigh, “hey, not to be rude—well, ruder but—“
“You can call me back when you’re done with the journal but you can keep the notes,” she said.
“Ok, yea,” Stiles took a breath, “thanks.”
Allison nodded and walked out. She got into her car, gripped the steering wheel and counted to ten. She didn’t know why she came to talk to Stiles. Allison knew that he didn’t want anything to do with her family. She couldn’t blame him but part of her wanted him to understand. She wanted Stiles to understand that the Argents were not killers. She wanted him to know that what Gerard and Kate did was wrong, that they should have never hidden behind their code that—
That what?
Allison groaned and started the car.
Her mother was dead. Kate and Gerard were dead. Both of her Great-uncles died before she was born. Neither of them had kids and her mother had been an only child. All that was left of her family was her father and herself. And Stiles.