2021

Olivia's POV:

"And...this is your room." Allison gently pushed open the door, revealing the Spider-man-themed room to the 11-year-old boy. "Miranda mentioned how much you loved Spider-man so Olivia and I scoured the entire mall to make sure everything matched. You like it?"

Griffin hesitantly took a step inside the room and placed his duffel bag on the bean bag chair.

"O-Or if you want, we can go back to the mall and pick out something else you might like? Or we can—"

Griffin shakes his head no and walks over to his desk, taking note of the Lego figurines of the Avengers.

"Are you hungry? I can make some mac and cheese if you want?" Allison suggested. "With chicken nuggets?"

He shakes his head again and judging from Allison's posture, she looks defeated.

"Do you want to take some time to settle in? I know the drive was long so I assume you want to rest." I ask. Griffin still doesn't say a word but nods in response. "We know it's an adjustment for a new environment but I promise that we won't push. If you need us, we'll be downstairs, okay?"

He turns his back to us once more and I wrap an arm around Allison's waist, guiding her out of the room.

Once we go down the steps to the living room, she plops on the couch with a sigh. "He hates me."

"Miranda told us it'll take him a while to open up." I reassure, taking a seat next to her, and rub her back. "It's an adjustment for him to be in a new place again."

"I know but...you don't think I overstepped? What if he regrets picking us? Maybe you were right about going overboard with the theme. Maybe he should've come with us—"

"Mon amour," I grab her arms to pull her to sit up properly so that she can meet my eyes. "You're overthinking again. Choosing a theme for a bedroom isn't going to make him hate us."

"I know, but—"

"But the fact that you're worrying about this little thing is showing already how much love and care we're going to provide for him. We might not be perfect parents, but we're going to be the best that we can for him to make his life amazing. You, Allison Argent-Flores, my beautiful wife," I reassure, bringing our hands close so that I could kiss her knuckles and she immediately smiles. "are already doing an amazing job at being his mother."

"And so are you, Olivia Argent-Flores." She playfully emphasized and pecked my lips. "I couldn't imagine doing this without you."

"U-Um—"

Allison and I immediately looked behind, seeing as Griffin shyly clung to the railing of the stairs. "Is
the chicken nuggets dinosaur shaped?" He quietly asked.

"Yeah..." Allison trailed off in confusion. "Did you want some after all?"

He takes a deep breath, almost as if to collect himself. "Yes please."

"Okay! They'll be ready in like fifteen minutes. I was planning to make lemonade in the meantime. Want to come help me?"

"Sure." He answered with a small smile in which Allison didn't hesitate to stand up from the couch. She offered her hand for him to grab and I couldn't help but smile, watching as the two walked to the kitchen.

My family...huh.

"Baby, can you get cut some lemons from the tree? I only have one left." Allison called, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Yeah, of course." I say as I walk over to the kitchen, taking the basket from her hands and pressing a kiss against her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Now

I couldn't even speak. Even if her head was lying on my lap, I couldn't tell whether my mind was playing a trick or somehow everything up to this point never really happened.

One minute we were all frozen in place at Allison suddenly laying on top of the nemeton stump, the next Scott carried her in his arms as we all sprinted through the woods to get to his truck, and now we were practically speeding through the streets to the hospital and I couldn't tear my eyes away from my wife's unconscious form.

I think I'm gonna pass out.

"This can't be real." Scott stammered, glancing behind at the backseat since he and Malia took over the front while Lydia and I were in the back. "It can't be her. S-She was cremated." He accidentally swerved into the other lane before quickly moving his eyes back to the road.

"She looks pretty un-cremated to me." Malia casually answered.

"She's not just un-cremated. She's literally been reconstituted out of thin air!" Lydia exclaimed in disbelief.

"So that wasn't in the instructions?" She questioned but Lydia rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Olivia, you married Allison so you pretty much know everything. Mentally and...well, you know, physically. What do you think?"

"A-Ask me again in an hour because it's taking every part of me to not hurl in the car." I whisper, moving the towel a bit higher to cover her exposed chest a bit better but my hand accidentally grazes her cold skin and I immediately pull it away.

"Do not hurl in this truck. I just finished paying this thing off." Scott scolded.

"I think the current situation matters more than your truck, Scott." Lydia emphasized in disbelief. "Olivia, how did you even bring her back?"

"You think I know? Did you not see how panicked I looked when my hand shot in the air?" I exclaimed. "I-I don't even know how I'm supposed to explain it to my son that his mother--or someone that looks like his mother, is alive when I literally just yelled at him that she was dead."

"Okay well, I got a question." Malia continued, briefly looking our way. "What do we do when she wakes up?"

"If she wakes up." Lydia mutters.

Once we arrived at the Beacon Hills hospital, Scott swerved the car into the parking lot and we quickly got out of the vehicle.

Scott swiftly carries Allison in his arms with ease and we sprint ahead of him to pull open the doors so that he could step inside.

"We need some help!" I call out in hopes one of the nurses take notice but thankfully, Melissa is nearby and immediately smiles once she sees us. "Oh thank god, Melissa."

She grabs my wrist to hold up my bloody palm."Oh no. Honey, what happened to you? I can get that patched up real quick--"

"Actually Mom, we got a bigger problem." Scott speaks up, causing her eyes to land on her son.

Her smile soon shifts into shock once she sees the unconscious girl in his arms. "She looks just like Allison." She whispered in disbelief. "Why, Scott, does she look exactly like Allison?"

"You really want to know?"

"Just...get her inside." She urged, pointing to one of the empty rooms and I quickly followed behind him.

Griffin's POV:

"Listen up! Tonight's game is not just a game." Coach Finstock's voice practically barked in the Beacon Hill High School halls. "This is a preamble to what comes tomorrow, an overture to a symphony of victory!"

"Jesus Christ, Eli. What the hell do you even pack in here?" I groan in annoyance as he and I lift his duffel bag, trying to keep up with the rest of his team.

"It's just--oh shit." He stops mid-sentence, quickly grabbing onto his lacrosse stick that almost fell to the ground. "It's just my gear. Come on, we're falling behind!"

"This tournament is everything I've dreamed of my entire career as a lacrosse coach. And that trophy is going right here, boys." Coach Finstock aggressively tapped on the trophy case with his keys. "And I know none of you will ruin it for me by losing this game tonight! Am I right?"

"Yes, Coach!"

Before we could turn to the next hall, a figure moves to stand in front of us which causes us to stop and see Sheriff Stilinski.

"Oh." Eli's expression filled with relief as we carefully set his lacrosse bag down. "It's just you."

"Just me." Sheriff Stilinski casually shrugged until he nodded his head to the stairs. "But I'm here, with him."

A figure descends from the steps and instantly my heart sinks at the sight of Derek Hale.

"Hey...Mr. Hale." I hesitantly waved in hopes he wasn't mad.

But his eyes never wavered from his son's.

"We can talk about it later." He calmly spoke, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I came to watch you play."

"Well, prepare for disappointment, 'cause if you didn't notice," Eli dryly chuckled. "I never play."

"I noticed, and I'm going to talk to your coach about it." Derek casually answered until his eyes landed on me. "And because I can no longer trust you or else you'll run off with my son again, you'll be coming with me."

"Oh, God, no! No, no--"

"And I can stay with Sheriff Stilin--" Derek doesn't bother to let me finish my sentence because the next thing I knew, he grabs my wrist with ease and drags me towards the locker room office entrance. "Oh god! Ow!"

"Dad!"

"Hey, Coach," Derek cleared his throat, causing Coach Finstock to look away from his clipboard. "can I have a word?"

"Depends. Are you related to Sharon Adams, suing me or asking me about certain payments?" He questioned before looking back down at his clipboard. "Because if it's yes to either of those questions, talk to my lawyer."

Derek and I share a look before he shook his head. "It's...not."

Coach Finstock places his clipboard down with a brow raised. "Then what the hell do you want?"

"What do you think about my son getting a little playing time tonight?"

Coach Finstock immediately nods with a sarcastic smile. "Oh, I think that's a great idea."

"You don't know who my son is, do you?"

"I don't know who you are. But you look pretty athletic," Coach Finstock's eyes land on mine with curiosity. "And your son here looks...eh, mostly athletic. Sure, why the hell not."

I quickly shake my head. "Uh, I'm not his son and I don't play lacrosse. Actually, you already know who my mom is. Olivia? She was your student and sort of worked as your assistant."

"Who?"

"Olivia Flores."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

I raise a brow. "Back in her junior year, you got shot with an arrow and she helped stop the bleeding."

His eyes lit up in remembrance. "Oh, that's right...Cynthia! She always hung out with those two imbeciles. Bilinski and McCall."

I wince. "That's not her--"

"Anyway, who's your kid then?" Coach Finstock cut in.

Derek points behind me with a smile. "That's my son."

I follow his line of vision in time to see Eli knock over someone else's lacrosse stick while scrambling to get a better grip on his duffel bag.

Coach Finstock slowly looks over at us in disappointment. "I was wrong."

Derek let out a sigh. "Just give him five minutes in the game. Let him prove himself."

"Three minutes if we're winning."

"Five minutes."

"Okay, you know what? You drive a tough bargain." Coach Finstock lightly chuckled. "Three it is!"

"Do you even hear yourself talk sometimes?" I scoff.

"I do actually," Coach Finstock grinned. "Way better than listening to Greenberg."

"Coach."

"Four minutes! Not a second longer." He emphasized but Derek stayed silent, giving him the infamous look that my moms practically described as terrifying for most people. "What about four and a half?"

Olivia's POV:

I reach for the loose strand covering Allison's eye and push it behind her ear, taking in her features as I lean back into the chair beside her hospital bed.

I mean...there's no way, right?

I grab my necklace from under my shirt and unclip her wedding ring from the chain. I reach for her left hand and carefully slide the ring on her finger, my eyes widening in surprise at how it easily slid in place.

Oh my god.

"Four years doesn't seem like a lot to others but to me, you being gone felt like a part of me was missing for a lifetime." I whisper before I shake my head. If it is her. "Since you...left, it's been so hard for Griffin and I. I've been trying to be the best parent for him and I'm failing not only you but my mom as well. You left because I wasn't spending enough time with my family. Now it's happening again and it's obvious he hates me. It..."

Griffin's right...It should've been me. A tear trickles from my eye and drops on her hand which causes me to let out a sigh.

"I'm not good at the whole parenting thing so if or when you wake up, I swear I'll be better." I whisper, giving her hand a short squeeze. "Even if you aren't Allison, then I'll let this be your sign of smacking some sense into me. Griffin, he...he's lost so much at such a young age. I have to be better. For him. I promise."

I carefully take the wedding ring off of her finger and clip it around my necklace once more before tucking it inside my shirt.

I stood up from the chair and walked over to the others, seeing that they were in the middle of a discussion with Melissa.

"Anything?" Lydia asked, noticing me approach from behind Melissa which caused them all to turn to me.

"She's still asleep but..." I shake my head in disbelief. "to the littlest physical details, she's exactly like her."

"I checked her vitals. Everything's normal," Melissa nervously explained. "at least normal for a woman who's been dead for four years."

"Maybe we should cut her open and then see if she's normal inside." Malia suggested and I immediately shook my head with a glare.

"We are not cutting my wife open like some sort of science experiment."

"We don't even know if that's really your wife!" Malia argued.

"Doesn't matter! We're not cutting open a human being!"

"Also it's not exactly how medical treatment works." Melissa spoke up, trying to ease the tension. "But thanks for the suggestion."

"How do we know she's okay?" Lydia worriedly asked. "I mean, not just physically but...mentally?"

"How do we know this is Allison? Hm?" Melissa questioned, making sure to look at each of us. "Really Allison?"

"We don't." She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest in discomfort. "This wasn't exactly part of the plan."

"Regardless," I emphasize. "that many years we shouldn't push her too much. She'll freak out and we'll just be making things worse."

Melissa nods in agreement. "Maybe our first step is simply talking with her. Since she doesn't appear to be injured, we're probably okay to try waking her up."

"Mom?" Scott called and we all turned to him, seeing the horror on his face as he gestured to Allison's now-empty room. "I think she's awake."

Oh shit.