To Better The Shattered; Scott McCall [2] ✔

1.80 In Which They Rave (part two)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Teen Wolf

Ellie usually thought that her wardrobe had a rather large selection.

Today, it seemed that all of the decent clothes she owned had jumped out of her bedroom window late the night before.

"Allison!" She called, hoping her cousin was in her room and not on some crazy hunting adventure with their grandfather, "I need help!"

The other brunette girl appeared in the doorway, wearing a black V-neck, dark jeans and combat boots: hunting gear. "What is it, Ellie?" she asked impatiently.

"I have nothing to wear to the club tonight, Al!" Ellie groaned, "I can't go out in public in any of these monstrosities," motioning to her open wardrobe.

Twenty minutes later, Allison had loaned her a stunning purple floral dress that she claimed was too small for her, and a nice pair of brown boots. With her hair down and curled, she figured she looked better than she had in weeks – she only hoped that Matt didn't think it was to impress him.

With everything being so strained with Scott, Ellie was more interested in recapturing his attention (and maybe helping him recapture hers). After their talk in the chemistry classroom, he'd barely spoken to her. Stiles had told her that he wanted to; only he'd been a bit preoccupied with all of the 'kanima-weirdness' going on. They had a plan to capture it, she knew, but no one seemed to trust her enough anymore to tell her anything.

It was becoming increasingly clear that everyone wanted her to choose between her family and her friends, and she didn't have a lot of family left.

A few of the hunters Chris worked with found Ellie putting the finishing touches of her makeup and told her very plainly that she was required downstairs.

The basement was her least favourite part of her house, but it seemed to be the new Argent headquarters. As she sat on the steps, watching the rest of the room gear up, she couldn't help but look over at the weapons cabinet. Before the remodelling over the winter break, that had been the spot she'd made out with Scott against. That was a much simpler time, before she knew about the werewolves.

"Alright!" her uncle said, "The party's in a warehouse just inside the industrial sector. Ellie has learned that Jackson Whittemore will be there seeking his next target out of the crowd. Since we still have little clue as to just how strong he is, we need to be extremely cautious. When Allison," he nodded to his daughter, "has Jackson's location and has determined him to be at the optimal point where we can take him down, she'll signal me. 'Optimal' meaning as far away from the crowd as possible. There will be no collateral damage tonight."

Ellie felt the bubbling of guilt onside her stomach. A slightly uncomfortable conversation with Stiles had given her the knowledge that the police believed that Mr Harris' 2006 chemistry class was the link between all of the kanima's victims, she'd felt the need to tell her family. Now, they were using the information to capture Jackson.

Maybe if she'd been told what Scott's plan was, she wouldn't have felt the need to take matters into her own hands.

"Can I go?" Ellie asked now, "I have a date to pick up in five minutes."

Or, at least, they all thought she had a date.

"Go ahead," Chris allowed.

Allison looked across the room at her, "I hope you have fun, Ellie," she said, though the smile on her face seemed off.

"Oh," she muttered, walking to the door, "I sincerely doubt I will."

;

Matt had been nothing less than the perfect gentlemen, but Ellie wasn't having a good time. They'd arrived at the club barely half an hour before, filing inside in relative silence. After a few failed attempts at conversation, Matt gave up, sending her sad, confused looks every so often. He still bought her a drink (non-alcoholic because she didn't feel like getting totally drunk with a homicidal lizard crawling up the walls), still grinned when he caught her looking at him.