The One Where It All Goes to Hell

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When you hear this song I hope that it will give you hell
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"Ughh," Scott grunted as he let the barbell fall back into place on the rack. Lately, he'd been enjoying working out. It was a way for him to blow off steam and let out aggression, which he certainly needed to do at the moment.

"Why don't we move in together?" Allison had asked, tugging on the waist band of his jeans with one hand, and the other slipping inside his boxers underneath.

Scott froze, mouth hanging open and not knowing what to say. The cloudy-headedness he was experiencing just seconds before vanished, and suddenly he was hyper aware of everything around him. Allison's breathing, the chilly car window his head was resting against, the complete silence... It was all so loud all of a sudden, so intense.

He took a deep breath in, gripped the weight tight, and, with all his might, pressed it upwards. He paused right there, another memory hitting him like a brick wall,

"Allison, that's not funny. Don't make jokes about stuff like that," he'd finally found the words to say, and reconnect their lips in an instantly deep kiss.

She pushed him away, turning her head so that they would no longer be connected, "Scott, can you think about something else for one second? This was part of your present, too. So that you could fall asleep every night with me there."

"You're literally leaving me high and dry, here, please..."

"No!" she answered, and took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm down to avoid raising her voice again, "This could be the perfect solution for us. I mean, obviously you'd have to tell your mom about your problem, but-"

"What the fuck, Allison?! I can't tell her! Are you kidding me, my mom's a nurse! She'd disown me!"

He placed the weight back down on the rack again, and stood, wiping the sweat off his chest with a towel. With a quiet, calm anger, he paced over to a rack of dumbbells and picked one up.

"We could be together every night. We'd never have to sleep alone," she pleaded, completely embarrassed and determined to show him she was right.

But Scott wasn't about to budge. "Ally, you know that I love you, but living with a girl is a huge commitment. That's like what people do when they want to get engaged, and then they get married. I'm way to young to commit to something like that."

"I know it would be different, but this could also be great for us. You have to hear me out!"

Scott smashed the car door open, jumped out, and pulled his jeans back into place, "I don't have to do anything! It's my birthday, and I'm a legal adult now, as you've so kindly reminded me."

With that, he stormed across the yard and back into the house, first throwing in his shirt, and re-buttoning his jeans as he ran straight into Stiles and Lydia.

The memories stung him, feeling just as attacked as he did the night that it all happened. Why did Allison have to mess it all up when everything was so perfect? Why couldn't they just be normal high schoolers?

He threw the dumbbells to the ground, and, feeling a lot less angry after his workout, and a lot more calm, headed home to take a shower.

Allison gave him a memory to look back on, alright. And he sure as hell remembered it.
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"Derek," Stiles had gulped, tentatively entering the rehearsal room. The muscular man was seated on a stool in front of a piano, staring blankly at the keys before him.

He turned, slate grey eyes meeting with light brown ones, "Stiles, it's so nice to see you."

Stiles exhaled and rolled his eyes in amusement, pulling up a chair and sitting backwards in it to face the other bigger man, "We don't need to make small talk. You know why I'm here."

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