We Never Gonna Be Alone Teen Wolf

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Work Search: tip: "sherlock (tv)" m/m NOT "sherlock holmes/john watson"
Allison comes back on a Thursday.
It rains like the sky is personally punishing the population of Beacon Hills for pretending there’s nothing weird going on in this freaking town, and Stiles is home because he has nothing better to do right then — his applications for about a dozen different scholarships seem so silly now, now that he knows he wants to stay in Beacon Hills and be a cop like his dad.
At least, that’s what he thinks he wants.
That’s what he thinks he wants till he hears the knock on his front door.
So.
I finished watching season 5 yesterday, and while I complained a LOT about the direction the show seemed to be taking most of the time (I can't even with most of Lydia plotline, she's such a nice character and just ARGH, anyway), the last three episodes gave me hope for it again - up till Stiles decides to become a deputy.
And just no. NOOOOOO. Nothing against deputies, but the boy deserves a BREAK FROM ALL THE EVIL, OK? He gets to be happy.
So, I made him happy.
I made EVERYONE HAPPY.
(And no, this is in no way my guilt over what I'm doing to them in my other fic talking. Not at all.)
So, Basically, enjoy.
This is a series, I'm finishing up the second bit right now, and more bits will come if you guys get interested in the fic.
Hope you enjoy it!
OH! The title of the fic and the series come from the song "Fight 'till the end" that played in the season finale. It's not mine. I just really liked it.
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
It rains like the sky is personally punishing the population of Beacon Hills for pretending there’s nothing weird going on in this freaking town, and Stiles is home because he has nothing better to do right then — his applications for about a dozen different scholarships seem so silly now, now that he knows he wants to stay in Beacon Hills and be a cop like his dad.
At least, that’s what he thinks he wants.
That’s what he thinks he wants till he hears the knock on his front door.
She looks exactly like she did a second before he killed her — which is a strange thought to have when you open your door and see your best friend’s dead girlfriend staring at you.
She has a smile on her lips and looks for all the world like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be than at his door — she’s still wearing her purple dress and coat, and she is a bit dirty, her hair in disarray. Her bow and arrows are slung over her shoulder and she’s the one to take the first step towards him, arms raised, and Stiles thinks, well, if she’s going to kill him, if she’s somehow a zombie who came back from the dead to kill him, he kind of deserves it.
Laughs a bit while she’s doing it too — a light, carefree sound he doesn’t really remember hearing even months before he got possessed and she died.
“I missed you,” she whispers as she holds him close, and he closes his eyes, tears falling down his face — not that he minds, because he doesn’t.
He has no idea what is going on but one of his friends is back from the dead, he’s not going to complain about it. He has every right to cry.
“I’m sorry,” he replies, even though what he means to say is I missed you too, “I’m sorry,” he repeats, and Allison turns around a bit, kisses the side of his head, standing on her tip-toes to do it, even though when she had died, they were almost the same height, and then takes a tiny step back, staring at him, dimples showing, smile still on her lips.
“I know. And I forgive you,” comes her simple reply, “Can I come in?”
He nods and takes a step back. She gets in, closes the door behind her, and looks around his living-room — it hasn’t changed much in the months she’s been gone.
“I’m hungry,” she tells him, taking off her bow and arrow case and setting them on a couch.
Feeling as if he’s just entered some alternative reality, Stiles takes her to the kitchen — he hopes she won’t suddenly turn into a zombie and eat him.
“Are you a zombie?” he asks when he can’t help himself anymore and Allison is on her third ham sandwich.
She frowns, tilting her head to the side a bit.
“You know, now that you mentioned it, I do feel a little like eating some braaaaaiiiinnnsss,” she hisses the s’s before giggling at his horrified face and going back to eating as she shrugs, “I don’t think I am. I’m just… back.”
She shrugs again, and they stare at each other for a long while — Stiles thinks he should be worried, or frightened, or afraid — he can’t. He doesn’t know how to be those things when Allison is back.
She nods, eyes widening, as if she is just now thinking of it.
Argent isn’t amused when Stiles calls him and asks him to come to his house on a rainy Thursday evening without telling him why, but he comes. He knows that even though Stiles is a bit spastic and annoying and just an all-around little shit, he wouldn’t call Chris if he didn’t have a reason to — and boy, does he have reason to.
Christopher Argent’s face when he sees Allison standing just a few feet from the door is something Stiles is never going to forget, because it’s heartbreak and hope all rolled into one, and he gasps, as if physically hurt, before his hand flies to his gun but he retreats it just as fast — Stiles has the feeling he’s having the same thought he had a few hours ago: if this Allison is back to hurt or kill either of them, they’d let her.
It’s their fault she died in the first place, isn’t it?
He takes four steps into the house, and Stiles closes the door as Chris still stares at Allison like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and Stiles understands that — not in a Scott-from-last-year kind of way, but in a holy-shit-she’s-alive kind of way.
He can’t quite believe his eyes either.
The man pulls Allison into a bone-crushing hug and she giggles again, happy and content, her hold tight around her father too, and Stiles knows he should look away but he can’t, not when he sees the tears and the happiness coming off of them in waves.
“How?” Argent asks, and Allison looks at Stiles, and they both shrug.
Chris seems to be gearing up for a full interrogation when the door opens again, and the Sheriff comes in.
He too freezes in place when he sees Allison, his eyes wide, and hands going for his gun.
“Zombies are a thing now?!” he exclaims, his voice loud and exasperated, and Stiles laughs and laughs, because he doesn’t even know how this is his life.
They end up at Deaton’s before calling Scott.
Chris says it’s for privacy, and Stiles’s dad says it’s for the best, and Stiles and Allison look at each other and know that it’s because they don’t want the kid to get his hopes up in case she’s a collective hallucination or maybe a trick to kill them all, even though she says she’s fine.
Deaton comes out from the backroom, takes one look at Allison and stills.
“Ah, this is not quite what I had in mind when I got that letter,” he says, as if that explains anything, and Stiles wants to strangle him a little bit.
Argent seems to feel the same way, and that’s why Deaton ends up explaining everything better than he would have if it were just Stiles and Allison in there.
Braeden hadn’t shared much about what the hell had happened between her and Derek when they parted ways, but she did say they were better off as friends, that he had some unsolved issues he needed to work on (hah, understatement of the year), and that he had been looking into the Nemeton and its powers when they had spoken last.
Deaton had received a letter just the day before, from Derek, saying he wanted to do some good to the people who had truly helped him in his time in Beacon Hills, and that he hoped his sacrifice would help them all heal, but especially Stiles, who had always saved him even when he was an asshole (which caused Stiles to snort and say all the time).
The vet hadn’t expected the sacrifice to bring someone back from the dead, but hey, Allison is fine.
Her heartbeat and vitals are perfectly okay, she is not a zombie, she’s just fine.
She’s alive again because Derek sacrificed his mother’s claws to the Nemeton somehow — so it’s not like he killed anyone in a “life for a life” kind of way, and she should be perfectly able to resume her life as she saw fit from now on.
She smiles at Stiles, tears sliding down her beautiful face as she hugs him close, and when she lets go, Chris hugs him too, unexpectedly.
“I don’t know what you did to help Hale, but thank you. Thank you,” he says in a whisper, and Stiles shakes his head, because he should be the one thanking them.
Oh, he knows it wasn’t he who killed Allison, but it was still his hands holding the sword, and his eyes seeing the blood, and his body carrying the killing out.
He feels lighter than he has in a year. He feels as if he can breathe again, and the way his father looks at him when Chris lets go tells him his dad feels lighter too — his son is not a killer after all.
When Scott sees Allison, Stiles thinks he’s going to have a heart attack.
The Alpha doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself as they try to explain what really happened to him, and Stiles isn’t even sure he gets it, because he’s too busy smiling stupidly at Allison and trying to wrap his head around the fact that she is not dead.
Stiles isn’t too sure he gets it either — he’s not sure if he just got so used to rolling with the punches that nothing fazes him anymore, or if he just hasn’t computed yet that Allison isn’t dead anymore.
She goes home with her dad, Stiles and his dad head home too, and Scott stays behind so Deaton can explain it all to him once (or ten times) more until he gets it.
It’s not until he’s home, dinner on the table, his dad eating happily, that he stops to think that Derek has done this for him.
Just for Stiles, and that is why Allison had showed up on his doorstep, and not back at her home, or Scott’s or Lydia’s, but his.
Derek did this for him, helped him heal his soul from a wound he never thought he would get over, and didn’t even stick around for him to say thank you.
They call a pack meeting to tell them all together that Allison is back, and it’s not exactly what they are expecting — Lydia, of course, already knows: she had a vision, and then she thought she was wrong, but now she knows, and accepts, and is happy for it, so it’s cool. But Mason and Liam and Hayden and Corey don’t even know Allison, and they hadn’t exactly told their new pack members about the whole thing.
The rest of the pack just looks a bit fuzzy on the whole ‘the Ex-Alpha did what now?’ to really understand how awesome it is that Allison is back, but they don’t let it get them down.
She’s freaking back, and it’s all that matters.
Allison and Stiles had been friends before, but now they are more like best friends. They understand each other, and tell each other jokes. They are human in the middle of a whole lot of supernatural beings, and as the year goes on and on, without the stress from its first month, they hang out together more than they used to, mostly with Stiles helping her catch up on what she had lost.
She had never been officially dead in her records, just gone. Her father hadn’t been able to actually go through the process of declaring her dead, and had buried her body himself – no one in town knew Allison had died.
So Chris Argent makes up a fake paper trail for her, as if she had been in France the whole time.
They don’t question it much at school — no one ever questions anything too much in Beacon Hills, after all — and things get into a pretty easy routine.
Malia gets stressed out because Stiles is spending too much time with Allison. Scott thinks that maybe the two of them are getting together. Lydia huffs at both of them and calls them ridiculous, which the two of them deserve, but it doesn’t solve their problems magically in that department.
Truth is that Allison was with Isaac before she died, and Scott was in love with Kira, even if now she was living with the Sand People or something. And truth is that Stiles was already pretty confused about his relationship with Malia to start with, ever since Theo showed up, and now he doesn’t know what he wants anymore.
And that feeling has a way of spreading through his whole life.
“So… you’re not going to college?” Allison asks on a sunny Thursday afternoon in the middle of winter, pulling out a letter of acceptance from Yale and the accompanying paperwork for a full scholarship.
“I…” he’s ready to give his whole speech about wanting to help people the way he can best, as a deputy in his dad’s department, but he can’t really lie to her the same way he does with Scott, and his dad, and Malia, and Lydia.
This is his best friend who came back from the dead because he killed her and a guy he helped decided to help him back.
It feels like sacrilege to lie to Allison.
She stares at him, pencil in her mouth, straightening her eyes, as if sniffing out his weaknesses, which she might as well be doing, the girl isn’t a werewolf, but damn, she’s good at sniffing out lies of all kinds.
“You’re already in. You already have a full ride. Why not defer it for a year, and I don’t know, take some time off?”
By time off, he knows perfectly well, she means time away, and three months ago he would have said hell no, but now Allison is back, three feet away from him. They are studying for their chemistry class, and she looks cozy in his hoodie because her jacket was too thin, and he likes the way his room now always smell a bit like her shampoo because of the amount of time she’s over at his place.
It’s not like Scott sometimes thinks, even going as far as telling Stiles that if they ever got together, he’d understand, or as Malia fears, that she’s being replaced — it’s just that Allison died, and Stiles died too. Being possessed by a demon killed a little bit of him that never really came back, and Allison gets it.
She does, and she still wants what’s best for him.
She smiles at him, all dimples and challenge, and nods.
Maybe in a year, leaving the idea of college behind and settling for deputy won’t feel so much like a sentence like it does now.
Christopher Argent presents them with tickets and won’t take no for an answer.
“It’s my present, my gift, for the both of you. A graduation present. Go to Europe, go to Asia, go to Africa, live a little, live a lot, and then come back knowing that the world is bigger than Beacon Hills.”
Stiles doesn’t want to accept it — a whole year out, traveling around the world with Allison, all expenses paid by Papa Argent, he just can’t take it, but his dad encourages him to do it, and Scott tells him it’s the best thing they can do, and he still wants to say no when Chris looks into his eyes, tears welling up as Stiles bites his lip, shaking hands on his shoulders.
“You brought her back. I don’t care that Hale is the one that actually did it, but you were the one who motivated him to do it — let me at least show you that I’m in debt with you forever. This is nothing compared to what you did. Please, let me help you just a tiny little bit, because what you did for me is priceless, and even if I paid a whole lifetime of travel for the both of you, I couldn’t repay you. Please, let me do this.”
They start in the Americas, and see the huge cities and also the huge forests. They visit Honduras for the Copán Ruins. They visit Brazil for the heat and the stunning beaches, and they go to Argentina to watch the Tango. They visit Chile for the wine they can legally drink there, and fly to Australia to see Sydney. They go to the wilderness in New Zealand. They see Cape Town in South Africa, and do volunteer work in Mali. They eat strange food in India, get sick and spend three days in hotel rooms, swearing to go back home the moment they can walk again. They break their promise, and go to China, and Tokyo, and make their way to Europe by train, finding work in small towns to help pay for the souvenirs they keep sending home. Allison takes him to her favorite places in Paris, and he makes her follow him into weird music shops in London. They sigh together over how beautiful Edinburgh is, and drink themselves silly in Dublin. The ride bikes in Amsterdam, and toast in the sun in Greece.
They take their last flight in Portugal, and head back home eleven months after they left.
They have pictures and souvenirs, and a new lease on life.
They are not the two kids who died and came back, or the two humans in a wolf pack — they are Stiles and Allison, and that is kind of enough when they think about it.
Kira is back when they get home — and Lydia and Scott are together in a turn of events literally no one saw, but that makes perfect sense.
Malia is fine, and so is Liam, now worried about moving out, and Hayden is happy enough. Mason and Corey is still going on strong, and the Sheriff and Chris spend a lot of time together, minding their own business.
Everyone is doing just fine without them, and Stiles can’t really explain why this makes him happy instead of sad — they can live on, and he can live on, and they are doing great even without him there.
Allison looks at him the second he realizes that, and they grin at each other.
The next day, they are off to New Haven to find out just how bad their dorms are.
Classes are hard, and studying is hard, and Allison’s roommate is a bit too obsessed with cleaning, so she spends a lot of nights in Stiles’s room. His roommate is kind of sure Stiles and Allison are together, and she always laughs when he insinuates something, and starts dropping kisses on Stiles head and cheeks when the boy is around, just to mess with him.
Stiles rolls his eyes, but doesn’t complain.
There are worse things in the world.
The coffee shop is kind of cute, but what sells them into it is the fact that it has a small bookstore attached.
They could never resist that combo.
“Remember that one in Tokyo? With the tea?” Allison tells him as they get in, pulling off her gloves now that they are away from the winds of November.
“Oh man, if their tea is half that good, I might move in,” he replies, pulling off his scarf.
He turns to Allison when she doesn’t answer,
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