Jackson walked up and down the aisle, Lydia by his side. They had already been here for longer than he would've liked, but he put up with a lot to make her happy. It was one of the few good things about dating your best friend.

Every few seconds, though, Lydia stopped, picked up another DVD case, squinted at it critically, and then set it back on the shelf. And he was getting closer and closer to losing his patience with the whole operation.

No matter how adorable she was.

"Can you just pick a movie already, babe?" he huffed.

Lydia showed him The Notebook before tucking it back underneath her arm. "I already picked one. I'm looking for another one." She turned her attention to him, her eyebrow raised. "You could always chip in and pick one, since we're getting two."

He shook his head, letting his irritable nature seep into his words. "I'd settle for anything at this point. Honestly. Even another chick flick."

She scoffed. "You know I hate that term."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Sorry."

She stopped and turned to him fully, crossing her arms over her chest now. "You're unusually moody, Jackson," she commented. "Is this still about Scott? He told you what's going on, didn't he? Private practices with Derek Hale. Right? So... let it go."

"It still doesn't make sense," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. "How'd he get so good so fast? I mean, it's possible it's not steroids. Something new."

She rolled her eyes, but it wasn't like he needed her to respond. Or even be there, at this point. He'd already been over it with her a few dozen times anyway. There wasn't anything different to discuss. He just hated it.

"He was probably doing all that work to make a splash at practice," she offered. "It's what you would've done."

Jackson couldn't help but give her a pointed look before he chuckled, slinging an arm around her. As much as he would like very much not to admit it, she was right. Again. He shook his head and then kissed her temple, finding her utterly adorable, now and always.

"Yeah. Yeah, I would've."

"Look, if he's on drugs, it'll come out eventually, right? Like you said. He's not better than you, Jackson, if that's what you're worried about. If anything, he's gonna make you look better, not worse. I know you've already been scouted a couple times anyway. It'll be nice for people to see how you work with people on your level, though. Proves that you can handle the pressure."

"As long as I'm always your star," he teased, kissing her cheek.

She giggled, smacking him playfully. "Of course."

He gave her one last smile before eyeing the shelf in front of them and finally picking out a movie. "This one," he announced. "And I'll pay for snacks since I was so grumpy."

Lydia grinned. "And I might let you eat some."

Jackson laughed again and shook his head, his mood lightening considerably. Not that it was a new situation for them. Lydia had that ability when no one else did, and he loved her for it.

He steered them both toward the front, only able to make out the edge of the counter where the late night cashier was probably waiting impatiently. One last giggle escaped her lips as he poked her side just as the lights flickered once and then went out.

Before either of them could react, though, a huge crash near the door had them both thoroughly distracted. But for a much more sinister reason. Not at all helped, of course, by the fact that the clerk they saw earlier screamed loudly.

"What the hell?" Jackson whispered, pushing Lydia's body behind him slightly.

She was completely frozen, except for her shaking hands, as she stared forward. Jackson, however, couldn't help but take a step toward whatever had happened. He somehow managed to keep himself from jumping out of his skin a few seconds later when her hand brushed his shoulder and began to tug on his sleeve.

"Jackson?"

He shushed her, but she didn't stop. "Baby, please. Just be quiet. I'll get us out of here."

"Jackson," she said, this time more forcefully.

He turned around slowly, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice or off his face. "What?"

She stood just as still as before, but she pointed into the darkness down one of the aisles to the left of them.

"What is that?" she hissed, pointing to a pair of red eyes glowing deeper within the store.

No longer in control of his body, Jackson took a step toward it instead of what all his other senses were telling him to do, which was to leave as quickly as possible. It was like he was drawn to it. Whatever it was.

But before he came to it, whatever it was, it turned and leapt out the front window. The both of them ducked as it rushed past them, leaving a trail of glass in its wake. As soon as it had cleared the store, the lights came back up and the chaotic scene was revealed in one fell swoop.

Lydia moved around Jackson next, as if pulled forward by some unseen force, running full speed toward the counter. Her high heels made soft thuds against the ancient carpet, but it didn't dull Jackson's reaction to it. He knew it was serious, but the next few moments would prove to him just how bad his night had become.

"Jackson! Call 9-1-1!"

He wasn't sure how it had gotten there, but his phone was already in his hand and he found himself calling without any recollection of dialing. He caught the end of the counter and came face to face with the most unlikely scene to hit the sleepy town of Beacon Hills in forever.

There was blood everywhere, and Jackson didn't miss the huge gashes all over his body either. Lydia stared in horror as Jackson swallowed hard, unsure of how to handle any of this as he waited and prayed someone would pick up soon.

"Lydia, is... is he still alive?"

He had no idea why he asked her that, but he felt compelled. Like everything else that had happened since the lights had gone out.

But all she seemed to be able to do in return was scream. Louder and longer than he had ever heard in his life.

The sleepy little town was sleepy no more.