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"Don't let anyone in who isn't Sheriff Stilinski or a deputy."

"I won't."

"Don't open the safe or give anyone the code."

"Dad..."

"Always lock the door, don't accept any deliveries on my behalf—"

"Dad, I got it. You really don't need to be so worried about me."

"I'm your father, it's my job to worry about you. Especially nowadays."

"I'll be okay."

Chris sets his bags down and pulls her into a big hug.

"I know." He sighs, kissing her on the top of the head. "Fingers crossed it'll just be for a few weeks."



As soon as he was gone, Allison noticed the quiet of the apartment. Sure, there were faint sounds of Downtown Beacon Hills, dogs barking, cars honking... but inside, there was a near-complete, somewhat uncomfortable stillness. She realized this would be the second summer without her mother, but only now was the reality of how different things were without her starting to sink in. 

She'd gotten to spend the previous summer in France, grieving with family, and had been so busy with supernatural threats and a kidnapped father that she hadn't actually been alone with her grief yet. 

It wasn't something she was prepared to deal with at that moment. At all.

Suddenly, she was receiving a call.


"Hey."

"You okay?"

"I will be," she sighs "eventually."

"Oh?" Lydia asks.

"My dad's gone for a few weeks and I decided to stay here. He just left a few hours ago."

"I'm sorry I'm not there."

"It's okay. I'm glad you're taking care of yourself, even if it means I've resorted to cleaning my room for fun."

"Well, you have a key to the house, so if you get too bored, the pool's always open. And I'm sure Prada would appreciate the company. He's only been around our house sitter for the past two weeks."

"Poor boy. I'll definitely be taking you up on that offer, though."

"Do! Throw a party, live it up. Don't invite anyone I wouldn't."

"There's no one here left to invite!" She laughs.

"Oh, Allison, never underestimate the possibility of an unexpected whirlwind summer romance."

"Ha! Now that's funny." Allison smiles in amusement as she takes down a box from inside her closet.

"I thought I got rid of these." She mumbles.

"What's that?"

"Nothing. Not important."

"Crap. My battery's almost dead."

"It's okay, I still have to shower and figure out dinner and a bunch of other stuff."

"'Kay... love you."

"Love you."


There wasn't really a bunch of other stuff, but she felt like Lydia had better things to be doing than worrying about her. She appreciated that she cared, but the ways people worried about her mattered.

She didn't want pity or to feel incapable of taking care of herself, and her father had recently been guilty of the latter.

Even Scott needed to let her breathe more sometimes.

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⏰ Last updated: May 30 ⏰

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