Stay With Me

Chapter Three: People Think We're Dating?!

Something was off, Allison decided. She had stopped for gas at a Food Mart, so nothing should feel off; and there was absolutely nothing wrong with a guy stopping for gas in his motorcycle, across from her, and some guys were creeps, so she shouldn't be that creeped out that he was smiling at her.

She sighed. It had been a long night, and Allison just wanted to go home. The guy drove off, and then all the lights went out. Allison removed the gas thing from her car, and got back into it - but her key wasn't inside of her car. She got out of her car, not looking for her key, but looking for someone who might have stolen it. There was nobody there - and then, out of nowhere, a bag was placed on top of Allison's head.

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When the bag was removed, Allison had a gag around her mouth, and was tied to a chair in a house she recognized as the old Hale house. Sitting across from her was her father, Chris Argent. 

"Do you wonder what happens if a hunter gets bitten, Allison?" Derek Hale's voice echoed around the house. "Ever wonder what happens if you get bitten? What do you think your father would do? What do you think he'd have to do?"

Allison knew the answer. If a hunter gets bitten, they get killed before they can turn. Before the bite could turn them into a werewolf. 

She and her father struggled against the chairs for a few minutes more, before Chris broke the chair, consequently freeing himself, and slowly stood up as someone - the guy from the gas station, Allison realized - passed him a phone, Derek's voice echoing from it as a recording. "When all it would take to change everything," Derek's voice echoed, "is one bite."

The tears from Allison's eyes disappeared as she realized she wasn't in any danger, this had all been a set up of sorts. She waited for her father to explain.

"One bite," Derek's voice said before Chris paused the recording. Chris looked straight at Allison before finishing the sentence himself, "and everything changes." He crossed over to Allison's chair and removed her gag, perhaps his little bit of help.

"Is this how we're going to do father-daughter talks from now on?" demanded Allison angrily.

"No," Chris said. "This is how we're going to train you. Do you know why we use arrows?"

"They can't heal until it's taken out," Allison answered, and Chris brandished an arrow from when she'd shot the hunter posing as a deputy.

"Look familiar?" he questioned.

"You were going to kill him," Allison answered.

"That's right," snapped Chris. "And if we find Isaac on another full moon, we will kill him. That's the hard choice we make. But it wasn't my choice."

"Gerard?" asked Allison.

"No," Chris said, crossing over until he was behind Allison, placing his hands on her shoulders. "See, our family has a surprisingly progressive tradition. Knowing wars and violence are typically started by men, we place the final decisions - the hard ones - with the women." Chris raised his voice slightly. "Our sons are trained to be soldiers. Our daughters, to be leaders. Your training starts now." He placed Allison's arrow in her hands. "Time her." The man from the gas station started a timer on his phone. 

Allison looked towards the ceiling, before beginning to use the arrow to cut through the rope that was binding her wrists together. 

"Congrats," the man from the gas station told her two and a half hours later. 

"For what? It took me two and a half hours," Allison told him, frowning and rubbing her wrists, where she was still sore from the rope.

"Took me three when I did it," shrugged the man. A smile grew on Allison's face, and she got into her car and drove away, abandoning the man in the middle of the woods.