Knee Deep in Your Memory (Scallison)
writen by: sxymami0909 rated: t genre: fluff, romance word count: 4,215 prompt: Chris somehow resurrects Allison and she returns the first day of senior year to find how much has changed since she passed. Yet, one thing that's stayed the same were the feelings she had for a certain werewolf.
Sure, he’d kept in touch with Scott and Derek, helped when asked, but always from afar. Chris hadn’t been ready to come back yet. Not until now. He continued walking down the familiar path and with his flashlight shining he could see the large tree stump in the distance. The Nemeton. He lifted a hand running it over his beard as he closed the distance between him and the damn tree stump. Chris paused about ten feet in front of it and pulled his bag from his shoulder dropping it to the ground.
He could hear the sounds of crickets chirping around him, along with the night settling. It was nearly midnight and Chris knew if he wanted this to work, he was going to have to hurry. He crouched down; jeans tightening with the movement as he tugged open the bag and pulled out four white candles. Next he pulled out some mountain ash and spread it in a circle around himself going clockwise.
Once the circle was completed he set the candles in alignment with the North, South, East, and West corners of the circle. Chris took a deep breath and finally kneeled on the ground. He reached inside the bag and pulled out a folded scroll of parchment doing his best not to catch the tattered edges on anything that might rip it. He placed it down gently before once again reaching inside and grabbing the rock carved tablet.
Chris lifted his bag and placed it out of the circle before glancing down in front of him where everything sat spread out and gleaming in the moonlight. The Book of Enoch. It had taken six months for him to locate the original copy and another six months to locate the key to unlock The Book of Resurrection, which was a hidden chapter within the Angelic relic of apocryphal literature.
The resurrection spell itself was simple, but finding a source of power strong enough to channel was the issue. It didn’t matter that the scroll itself was written in Enochian, the language of the angels, the key would help with that. Chris glanced up at the sky checking the position of the moon. Just another couple of minutes, he thought to himself as he reached behind him and slipped the dagger from a holder near his pants.
He knew this was wrong. It went against everything his family stood for. The supernatural was not to be toyed with. But Chris had lost so much and Allison deserved a second chance at life. She was righteous. She had sacrificed her life for those of the people she loved. And so the Book of Enoch would work, it had to.
A gust of wind blew through the preserve and Chris new it was time. He placed the dagger down, reached out and lit the candles, and then reached for the scroll unfolding it carefully. He took a deep breath and opened the text angling it in front of the scroll as he shifted and read aloud.
And in those days shall the earth also give back that which has been entrusted to it,
And Sheol also shall give back that which it has received,
And hell shall give back that which it owes.
“I implore thee, restore the life of Allison Argent, for she is true of heart and has sacrificed her life for the good of others.”
Chris lifted the dagger and sliced it fast across his hand, a burning sensation tingling there as blood pooled in his palm, but he stayed focused on the moon and candles in front of him. He reached out and flicked his hand towards the Nemeton, his blood splattering across the top of the stump.
For in those days the Elect One shall arise,
And he shall choose the righteous and holy from among them:
For the day has drawn nigh that they should be saved.
“I beseech thee; I call upon the power of Sheol, and offer my blood as restitution.” Chris let his eyes flutter shut, the power of the Nemeton humming around him. The sound of a heavy wind could be heard as trees swayed heavily back and forth, but nothing touched him within the center of the circle. The candlelight didn’t waver, nor did the mountain ash itself. “Sheol, HERE ME! RESTORE MY DAUGHTER, HERE ME!”
The veins in his neck were prominently displayed with his last shout, the words coming out as more of a roar. A crack of thunder sounded in the sky and then a bright flash of light struck the space between Chris and the Nemeton. His body arched out, hands thrown back at his sides, as his face peered into the sky, white hot pain tearing through his flesh pulling an inhuman scream from him. He could feel the power rushing through him as his body lit up the woods around him. This was it, Allison was coming back, he could feel her. It was the last thought he had before the pain became too intense and his body crashed to the ground sending him into a spiraling pit of darkness.
______
The ground rumbled heavily, the earth shifting, dirt falling as bones strengthened. The coffin shook, pink soft muscle mending over the bones, layers of arteries shifting back into place, nerves tightening as her body rebuilt itself from scratch. Above the muscles grew pale skin as her sunken eye sockets filled the whites of her eyes displayed before irises came into view. Organs, nails, hair all repairing themselves within her. And then with a burst of magical energy a steady if not mildly erratic beating of a heart began.
Allison Argent’s eyes shot open, her chest depressing as she sucked in a sharp breath, her body in a state of panic as her shaky hands grazed the silky linen as she tried to figure out what was happening. The air was damp, stale, barely there and when her fist connection with someone hard fear surged inside of her.
No, god no. Nails clawed at the fabric, fists rammed into wood as she fought her way out of the box. Her knuckles were bloody as she continued struggling until one hand broke through the top of the coffin, fresh earth spilling on top of her. Allison turned her head to the side inhaled deeply and then pushed herself forward, digging, scratching, lungs burning.
The air was cool, the night damp. The cemetery was quiet, not a soul around and then once again the ground shifted. The earth shook and a slender arm broke free from beneath the dirt and grass, nails broken and bloody. And once again thunder clapped loudly and lightening lit the sky.
______
Images flashed in her mind, dead bodies, words spoken in an unknown language. Her body tossed around the large bed in her sleep as nightmares stumbled through her unconscious mind beneath the cover of closed lids. Her breathing increased rapidly, the reanimating of a corpse, broken skin, bloody knuckles and sharp cries.
Her sweat slicked body shifted against soft sheets, her face screwed up in pain. A loud clap of thunder sounded and Lydia burst up from bed, her body going ridged, eyes wide, breathing erratic as she opened her mouth and wailed, her cry carrying through the distance, the wolves of Beacon Hills waking with start at the sound. Something was coming. Death was in the air.
______
Lydia sat on the black suede couch in Derek’s apartment, hand wrapped tightly around the arm of the couch as she stared at the pack in front of her. It was six in the morning; their first day of senior year and already the supernatural was badgering them with knew problems. After everything that had happened over the past year, Lydia had hoped things would finally be calm enough that they could at least pretend to be normal teenagers, but apparently that was never going to happen.
She crossed her legs, the skirt of her green dress shifting with the movement. “I know what I saw,” she stated annoyed that Scott and Derek seemed to be doubting her even after all this time, “It was Allison.” She said her tone quiet.
Stiles stepped closer to Lydia resting his side against the arm of the chair as he placed a hand on his girlfriend’s arm and glanced over at Scott and Derek. “I think we’re all just confused Lyds, it’s not that they don’t believe you,” he looked back at wolves in question, “Right?” He asked sharply.
Scott sighed, inclined his head and shifted forward sitting on the coffee table in front of Lydia. “I’m not doubting you Lydia, none of us are,” he said motioning behind him where Derek, Kira, Liam and Malia stood. “I just…it doesn’t make sense,” he said his voice quiet. “Allison’s gone, she’s been gone a year.” His chest tightened at the words. Scott had tried to move on, he had even tried to pick things up with Kira where they’d left off, but it ended up not working out. They were still close friends and she was still part of the pack, but he’d never been able to let go of Allison enough to be what she needed.
“Don’t you think I know that!” She said her voice louder than she’d intended. Lydia pressed her lips together and took a deep breath the feel of Stiles squeezing her arm making her calm down slightly. “I’m sorry…I know this doesn’t make sense and maybe…maybe I am crazy. But…It’s Allison,” she whispered moisture gathering in her eyes. “I dreamt it, I felt it. There has to be something we can do. Can’t we check?” She asked glancing around the room her eyes landing on Derek with a pleading look in them.
Derek dropped his arms from his chest and slipped them into his pockets. “I can go by the cemetery,” he offered, “What else did you say you saw in your nightmare?” He asked brows drawn together. He knew by now when Lydia had a feeling not to question it. She’d saved all their lives at least once over the past year and even though she wasn’t always in complete control of her abilities, she knew enough to help.
Lydia leaned forward, “I think I saw the preserve.” She offered. “Things are still a bit cloudy. They keep coming to me in pieces.”
Malia shifted forward, “I can check out the preserve before school,” she offered. She knew her way around better than the rest of them did so it made sense. She glanced between Stiles and Lydia and quickly looked away. She and Stiles hadn’t been together for close to six months. She’d never been able to trust him again after she found out about Peter and he’d never tried to get her to trust him…his heart had apparently not been in it. Now she knew why. Malia shook the thought aside and glanced at Scott. “Does that work?”
Scott nodded, “Yeah, thanks Malia.” He sent her half a smile, which was all he could manage at the moment.
Liam cleared his throat, “What about me?” He asked glancing around the room. He didn’t know who Allison was, but apparently this was a big deal and he wanted to help if he could.
Scott glanced at Stiles and his best friend shrugged. Scott’s brows drew together as he glanced at Liam. “For right now just head to school,” he held up a hand, “I know you want to help and I promise as soon as there’s something for you to do I’ll let you know.”
Scott glanced back at Stiles, “Can you help Lydia and see if you guys can figure anything else out about what Lydia dreamt about?” He asked.
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “You realized I’m right here right?” She asked, “Come on Stiles, we’ve got a little time before school starts I want to see if I can identify the langue I heard in my dream.” She said pushing herself up.
He nodded threading his fingers through hers and bringing their hands to his lips placing a light kiss there, “Okay, let’s go to my place, Dad’s already at the station.” He told her and he glanced at her with a soft smile. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe they were finally together. Sure it was still fairly new, only about three months, but they were happy and things were going well, which was all that mattered.
He glanced at Scott, “We’ll see you at school.” He said his chest tightening at the look on his best friends face.
Scott nodded as he watched them go. He glanced over at Malia and Liam, Kira and Derek. “I guess we should all probably head out,” He said as he stood. Scott’s gaze fell on Kira, “I was hoping maybe you could come with me to Deaton’s, maybe he knows something.”
Kira nodded, “Of course. I can definitely do that.” She said as she walked over to him. She could see the pain on Scott’s face and she hated that he was going through it all over again. She had been sad when things didn’t work out between them, but they were friends now and there wasn’t anything Kira wouldn’t do for her friends.
Derek glanced at Malia and Liam, “Well come on then. I’ll drop you off at school,” he said to Liam, “And you at the preserve before I head to the cemetery.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and slung it over his arms. “Everyone out,” he said as he pulled his keys from his pockets and guided the rest of the pack out of the loft hoping beyond hope that whatever they found wouldn’t be bad.
______
Lydia closed her locker door and glanced at Stiles, “Enochian,” she said with a shake of her head. “I still can’t believe that I was dreaming about the language of the Angels…because apparently they’re real.” She stated still a little boggled by that fact. She and Stiles had gone back to his place after the pack meeting and proceeded to do research until they were able to find one of the words that she’d heard clearly in her dreams. The problem was the written language was a bunch of symbols and in order to understand them you needed some kind of key to read them. Something neither of them knew how to get.
Stiles leaned against the row of lockers and nodded concern on his face. He knew Lydia was trying to keep moving forward and figure things out, but he also knew how close to him this hit and she wasn’t acting right. When she’d called him after waking up from the nightmare she’d been hysterical, crying her voice shaking coming in gasps, and genuinely upset. But from the second he’d shown up on her doorstep to pick her up for the meeting she’d been oddly composed and he wondered what that was all about. “Yeah, that’s…actually that shouldn’t be a surprise with everything we’ve seen.” He admitted.
Stiles reached out and brushed a hand against her cheek, “How are you holding up?” He asked softly.
Lydia swallowed hard as she studied his face and the look there said he wasn’t buying her act. She shifted forward and leaned into him. “I’m just trying to get through the day,” she responded quietly. “If this is real…if this is happening, it means Allison might be back. She might be here in Beacon Hills right now,” Lydia said trying to tamper down her own nervous energy. “But I’m afraid to get my hopes up,” She whispered, “because if she’s not then it would be like losing her all over again.”
Stiles’ expression softened and he shifted forward and wrapped his arms around Lydia, pulling her gently against him as he rested a hand at the back of her head and pressed his lips to her hair. “I know,” he told her quietly. “But we’re going to figure this out and everything is going to work out,” he hoped.
The sound of heavy footfalls heading in their direction pulled Stiles’ attention away from Lydia and when he spotted Scott moving towards them quickly his expression drawn and uncertain he knew something was wrong. “What is it?” He asked, his expression serious.
Scott paused in front of Stiles and Lydia and swallowed hard. “I just talked to Derek, he said Allison’s grave, it was, there was,” he paused and closed his eyes briefly before taking a short breath and letting it out slowly, “he said it looked like something came out of it.” He explained his expression painful.
Lydia sucked in a sharp breath her hands tightening on Stiles’ arm. “What?” She whispered, her heartbeat picking up speed as s hint of hope filled her chest. Maybe it was true, maybe Allison was back.
Scott glanced between them his heart aching, “That’s not all. Malia said she found Argent in the preserve near the Nemeton.”
Stiles’ eyes widened, “What?” He said his tone sharp, “What the hell was he doing there? You don’t think he—” Stiles’ voice trailed off at the look on Scott’s face.
“I think between Lydia’s nightmare, what Derek found and what Malia saw around Argent when she found him that it’s a very real possibility that he did.” He said quietly.
Stiles pursed his lips, “Where’s Argent now?” he asked with a frown.
“Malia took him to Deaton’s. He was mumbling something about Sheol and the righteous.” He said uncertain.
Lydia frowned, “I know that name. We came across it this morning when we were researching the language from my dream. It was Enochian by the way,” she commented thinking back, “I think it mentioned the Book of Enoch and the Angels.” Her brows furrowed. “It was something to do with—what?” She asked as she glanced between Scott and Stiles who were looking over towards the double doors at the other end of the hallway.
Lydia glanced over and she froze beside Stiles, her mouth opening slightly as tears filled her eyes. A hush had fallen over the entire hallway at the sight of the brunette standing in the entrance, the doors falling shut behind her.
Allison glanced around the hallway her heart beating quickly in her chest. It had taken her hours to realize what had happened, to remember her own death and subsequent resurrection. But after the initial few hours she’d gotten herself together enough to break into her old apartment, which apparently her father had kept. She had showered the blood and dirt away, grabbed a pair of clothes from her room that looked exactly as it had before and then went down to the basement of the building to clean her wounds and try to figure out what the hell was going on and why she was back.
That was when he came, Sheol, appeared in some kind of shimmering white light that had Allison grabbing the nearest gun and pointing it right at the thing in front of her. And when it had turned out to be a man, she’d been confused until he explained what her father had done. How he’d found the Book of Enoch and used the key to read The Book of Resurrection to bring her back to life. He’d made it clear that while her return was just and it was her second chance, she would be expected to continue the fight and help restore balance in Beacon Hills. She was no longer just a hunter, but a certain packs guardian angel.
Her gaze traveled over the faces in the hallway until she found the ones she was looking for. She knew she was going to have to come up with a story about what happened and where she’d been for a year and how she was alive. But right now there was only one thing she wanted to do and that was see the people she cared about most. She moved forward walking slowly down the hall towards them, her expression hesitant.
Scott felt a tear slide down his cheek as he watched her body practically glide down the hallway, her movements precise, like a dance. There was something different about her, something different about her energy, but he couldn’t place it and honestly Scott didn’t really care. Allison was standing in front of them, walking towards them. She was alive. That was what mattered.
He watched as she paused in front of Lydia first. Allison smiled and it lit up the entire hallway. Lydia could feel the dampness on her cheeks and her heart warmed as she stared at Allison. “It’s really you,” she said finally as she took her in, a feeling of warmth and goodness, wrapping around her.
Allison nodded, “It’s really me…Can I—”
“Of course,” Lydia said not even letting Allison finish her words before moving forward and enveloping her best friend in a hug. She tightened her arms around Allison and closed her eyes fighting back the tears. She was real and she was there. The nightmare that was the last year without her best friend was over and Lydia wasn’t sure how to express what she was feeling.
Allison’s smile widened, “It’s good to see the two of you are finally together,” she whispered.
Lydia chuckled, “Trust that to be the first thing you say to me.” She said with a watery smile as she pulled back and squeezed her friend’s arms gently before stepping back.
Allison glanced at Stiles next and smiled. “It’s good to see you.” She said quietly.
Stiles nodded, “You to I’m…glad you’re back,” he said not sure what else to say even as guilt filled his chest. It was his fault she hadn’t been there to begin with.
Allison studied him for a minute before reaching out and resting a hand against his arm. “I never blamed you, not once. You should let that guilt go, it’s not healthy.” She commented before pulling her hand back and finally turning to face Scott.
She sent him a hesitant smile.
Scott took a step towards her and then another until there was barely any room between them. He cupped her cheek and held her gaze; their last moment’s together running through his head. He saw Allison open her mouth, but before she could say anything he spoke. “I love you,” he said a grin pulling at his lips. “I loved you then, I love you now, I’ll love you always.” He whispered.
Allison’s face brightened and she smiled at him, “I love you too Scott, always.” She told him as she pressed herself into his body inhaling his scent. It felt like longer than a year since she’d been able to fit herself into his arms.
Scott threaded his fingers through her hair, tilted her head back and watched her for a second before leaning in and capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. He moved his mouth over hers and wrapped an arm around her waist tugging her closer.
Allison moaned into his mouth as she returned the kiss just as enthusiastically letting him deepen it and keeping their mouths fused until her lungs burned with a need for oxygen. When they broke apart she rested her forehead against his and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “It’s good to be home.” She told him softly.
Scott closed his eyes for a second letting his hand slide down her hip as he nodded. “It’s good to have you home and for the record, I’m never letting you go.” He said matter-of-factly. He didn’t know how everything happened or why Argent was able to bring her back, but all that matter was Allison was there and the love of his life was still alive. And Scott planned on never wasting another day with her again.
