𝟒𝟏, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

✯☾✯

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗔𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 in the group's plans, that could now be announced as failures, in the hospital, Stiles had dismissed her quickly.

As someone who regarded herself as having an explosive temper, she surprisingly didn't have the urge to skin Stiles alive as for two reasons. One, she kinda of got it, they didn't trust her yet. Understandable. And two, the boy's father had been taken by an insane, murderous nut job who Annie was set up on hunting down and killing.

However, her dismissal had pissed her off slightly and she shut her apartment door with much more power than usual. It clattered against the locks in consolidation with Annie's mood.

The three-roomed space the redhead called home was empty as always. Maybe it was her height or maybe it was her maturity that had allowed her to rent this place from a sketchy landlord.

He'd been half Annie's size with a shining bald head and clothes at least two times too small for him. So, Annie could've have guessed he would be the type to allow a 16 year old to move into his building alone.

The apartment itself was severely disappointing on the premise of low expectations anyway. After using your entire body weight to open the door, it led straight into a tiny kitchen-living room complex that was so basic, it resembled a child's deception of said rooms.

The bathroom consisted of a scuffed toilet, an unreliable sink, a rotting, wooden cabinet mounted onto the faded tiles and an eternally stained bath tub. No shower.

Annie's bedroom wasn't exactly luxury either. Upon first glance, it could be mistaken for a low income prison cell.

Sighing as she entered the coldness of her home, Annie caught glance of her appearance in the sharp edged mirror she'd found in a convenience store.

She spotted the blood embroidered into her shirt and thought back to the strange looks she'd received on her walk home. Figures.

Refraining from scoffing at her grimy and bloody complexion, she ignored her reflection and she strode further into her kitchen, clicking up a rusted light switch that brought to life a flickering hanging lamp over head.

She reached into her waistband that rounded her hips snugly and yanked out her adopted gun, placing it carefully on the splintering, round, slab of wood on stilts that made the table.

She grinned in satisfaction at the firearm. It was a gorgeous Beretta Model 92. It had an open slide design which Annie knew would be perfect for clearing pesky obstructions like Jenifer Blake had become.

After inspecting the magazine, the safety lever, the trigger and anything else that peaked her interest, she pick up the weapon once again with light hands and took it with her to the opposite side of the room where a glass cabinet stood by her bathroom door.

The piece of glass guarding the interior was thick and strong but, through it, the rest of Annie's collection could be seen displayed clearly.

A Glock 19 and 17, a Smith & Wesson M&P 9, a 9 mm Springfield XD-S,  and two of her beloved AR-15 rifles.

It was quite the assembly for a teenage girl, especially one with fire powers on standby.

She bent down and slid aside the glass pane, inserting Sherrif Stilinski's gun into one of the empty handles nailed to the back of the cabinet.

After, she replaced the lane securely and stood to her full height. The kitchen was quiet. No passing traffic, no street sounds, no commotion. In Annie's opinion, the silence was more creepy than peaceful.

A high pitched ringing thankfully interrupted the sounds of nothing, cutting through the thin air in annoying bursts of sound.

Annie plucked her mobile phone from the back pocket of her jeans and wondered how it had not been smashed to pieces during the many fights she'd been in this evening.

At the sight of the contact name, Annie smiled tightly and accepted the call, pressing the device to her ear.

"Hi Annie! It's Lizzie!" A chirpy voice bellowed down the line.

Wincing, Annie extended her arm to bring the phone further away from her ear as Lizzie shouted.

"Yeah, I gathered that Li-"

"I'm the other pixie! With the healing powers! I also like bunnies!" Lizzie continued to spew facts about herself as if Annie had no idea who she was.

"Yep! I know who you are, Lizzie!" Annie found herself shouting too.

"Oh," The volume of Lizzie voice lowered. "Okay! How quickly can you get to Allison Argent's house?"

✯☾✯

Lizzie had woken up on the elevator floor beside a baffled Derek after being shaken silly by Stiles.

His face was pale, paler than is usual and crafted into serious concern.

The second both Derek and Lizzie's eyes opened, Stiles launched into a disarranged account of what had occurred after Jenifer had knocked them both out.

Jenifer gone. Scott's mom missing. Scott also gone.

Derek registered the information faster than Lizzie, digesting the fact that his sister was still in danger quickly.

And then, he was gone, catapulting after the scent of Cora in the care of Isaac and Peter.

That left Stiles and Lizzie with the job of holding off the cops whilst Derek made sure everyone else got to safety. Everyone apart from Scott.

They positioned themselves in the reception area, sat beside each other in two uncomfortable chairs, waiting for the sun to inevitability rise and the cops to file into the hospital.

When that happened, Lizzie was fast asleep, leaning her full weight against Stiles's side, obviously the events of the day had completely taken it out of her.

Stiles prodded her lightly and the girl murmured an incoherent mumble before rubbing her eyes and sitting up. However, she still remained clutching onto her best friend.

The group of police officers entering the building were dressed identically. Dark coloured suits, polished black shoes, so shiny they could be used as mirrors and neatly slicked back hair.

"Is that...?" Lizzie widened her sleepy eyes upon the tall man leading the officers.

Scott's father.

Stiles groaned internally, there was no one else he'd like to see less than this man at this unfortunate moment in time.

He approached them haughtily, immediately recognising Stiles, his FBI badge swinging as he moved.

"A Stilinski at the center of this whole mess. What a shocker. You think you can answer some questions without the usual levels of sarcasm." The man quipped, distastefully glancing down at Stiles from his mountainous height.

"If you ask the questions without the usual level of stupid." Stiles snapped back grumpily.

The man smiled falsely at the teenage boy's insult, averting his eyes to the petite girl next to him.

Lizzie stared up at him blankly.

"And you are?"

"Lizzie."

The man assessed her and her tousled yet spirited state.

"Lizzie, who?"

"Uh, Lizzie Brown...Sir..." Lizzie replied, feeling slightly uneasy under the man's piercing stare.

He nodded shortly, acknowledging exactly who she was and then turned back to Stiles.

"Where's your dad and why has no one been able to contact him?"

"I don't know i haven't seen him in hours." Stiles shot back readily.

"Is he drinking again?" Scott's father questioned, his tone teasing.

"Hey! You're not nice." Lizzie remarked in defence of her friend and his father as Stiles breathed out angrily.

"What do you mean again? He never had to stop." Stiles justified, the tension between to the two men rising unmistakably.

"But, he did have to slow down. Is he drinking like he used to?"

Stiles' tether strained perilously, "All right, how about this? Next time I see him, I'll give him a field sobriety test. We'll do the alphabet, start with 'f' end with 'u'."

Scott's father only grinned in response to Stiles' attitude, "How about you just tell me what the hell happened here?"

"I don't know what happened here I was stuck in the elevators the whole time."

"That's true," Lizzie backed him up, nodding unwaveringly, "We were in there for hours. You definitely wouldn't wanna be in there. Actually Stiles really had to pee so he had to-"

The boy in question whacked Lizzie's arm in a panic to get her to stop talking.

"Ow!"

Scott's father was deterred slightly at Lizzie's story but, was soon back on track.

"You're not the one who put the name on the doors, are you?"

Stiles and Lizzie both exchanged baffled glances, that was news to them.

"What name?"

Argent.

✯☾✯

Stiles and Lizzie were in the jeep and out of Scott's father's sight as fast as they could've done so. It was no secret Jenifer needed one other guardian to complete her sacrifice. Now, they knew exactly who she was planning on taking.

Lizzie had phoned Annie on the way and she met them at the Argent's new apartment in the center of Beacon Hills.

Chris let them in immediately, almost like he'd already sensed what was going on, and they crammed into his study, anxiety flooding the atmosphere.

Stiles yanked poor Lizzie out of the way as she entered the room, she was too engrossed in the conversation to come to the realisation she was walking straight into the door frame.

"She took Scott's mother and Stiles' father. That's not a coincidence." Allison explained when Chris seemed to shut down the idea that he was to be taken next.

"We also need to consider that someone put your name in large block letters on elevator doors. That felt like a warning to me." Stiles pointedly glared at Chris.

"I think it might be Morrel," Allison suggested the school's guidance counsellor who coincidentally had been involved more often than she should, "I think she knows a lot more than she lets on and she might even be trying to help us."

"She needs to hurry up then," Annie scoffed, flattening her palms onto Chris' desk, "Because, pretty soon we're going to find another mangled body in the middle of nowhere."

Stiles ignored her blunt insensitivity, "And, the lunar eclipse is less than two freaking nights away."

The boy sat down in the armchair in the corner of the room, exhausted.

"Stiles, don't give up hope just yet." Lizzie reassured him. She was stood beside Allison, fidgeting anxiously on the spot.

Stiles shook his head, "They could already be dead."

Chris pointed at Lizzie in agreement to her previous statement. "I don't think so. There's something about Jenifer's tactics, it's like she still positioning. She's still moving pieces into place."

Allison caught her father's eye, "And you're one of them."

"Then, let's not wait around for her next move." Chris spoke fearlessly, unfolding a large piece of paper and smoothing it out against his desk.

"Everything she's done has been on a telluric current, so, Mellissa and the Sheriff must be somewhere in those currents, right?"

Everyone had gathered around the desk whilst Stiles remained seated, the same defeated look on his pale face.

"Stiles," Chris encouraged, "If we're gonna find them, we need your help."

And it was true, there was not a plan since the beginning that hadn't been lead, for the most point by Stiles Stilinski. The glue.

"You seriously want to go after her?" Stiles glared at the floor, melancholic, "I mean, what if she just takes you like the others?, huh? No offense, but what's the difference between you and them?"

Before Annie could interject with her strong pointed argument that she hadn't been given a good go at the heinous woman yet, Chris loaded his hand gun decidedly.

"I'm carrying a 45. Maybe she can heal a shot to the leg and a few slashes to the face, but, personally I'd like to see how she holds up with half her skull blown off."

At that, Annie bit back her words and grinned wickedly as she remembered the firearms tucked into her waistband once again.

Chris slammed his gun onto the desk and addressed the room. The hunter, the two pixies and the human.

"We've got one priority right now, and that's to find Melissa and Stiles' father. We've got a map and every clue we need to figure this out. The only thing we don't have is time which is why I need all of you."

That seemed to be enough to convince Stiles to find his hope and entrust his faith into the plan.

"Where do we start?"

Lizzie was very pleased as of how 'Hands in, go team' this was sounding.

Reaching into the desk drawer and pulling out a blue light to hover over the map, Chris cleared his throat.

"The place where the sacrifices have been committed have usually been different from where the bodies have been found. I think the placement has to do with the strength of the current, so there's the school, the animal clinic, the bank."

"What's to stop her from using the same place twice?" Annie queried, folding her arms against her chest.

"Depends on if she succeed the first time."

"Scott's boss."

"Deaton."

Chris agreed with the teens, "It was her only failure. That could mean something."

"That's only one place so far. We're gonna need a lot more help." Allison sighed.

"Well, luckily we have Annie now. I mean, I haven't seen her in action but, she's pretty powerful, right?" Stiles found himself pointing out before he could stop and remind himself that he did not, in any way trust Annie Ignis.

Annie rolled her eyes, "Yeah, Stiles, I'm pretty powerful."

Lizzie poked her tongue into her gums in thought, "There's also Lyds."

Chris' brow furrowed, wondering why the redhead had been brought up, "What can Lydia do?"

Lizzie blinked blankly. "I'm not sure...also, I kinda forgot."

"She's something." Stiles filled in the gaps. And something she was.

Chris and Allison unloaded boxes and boxes from the arsenal, much to Annie's delight.

Whilst she marvelled, mouth watering a like a small child in a candy store, Lizzie clung onto Stiles' arm as she watched the different types of guns carefully revealed.

At one point, her arm shot forward at the sight of a particularly shiny weapon but, Stiles' quick reflexes pulled her backwards.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" He scolded sternly, "You don't touch things that aren't yours."

The brown eyed boy observed the girl's innocent blue, "If...when we get Scott back, we're going to have a serious chat about getting you a leash."

"Hey.."

An unexpected voice appeared at the doorway to the office and the team turned one by one.

"I can't shoot a gun or a crossbow, but, well, I'm getting pretty good with these..."

Isaac, clad in a leather jacket and hair tousled, stood, bearing his wolf claws.

Lizzie jumped excitedly at the sight of him and pulled from Stiles parental grip, diving into Isaac's awaiting arms.

The boy hugged her tightly around the waist, and pulled her as close as possible.

He sighed blissfully at the feeling of having Lizzie in his grasp but, as he looked up, his eyes guiltily gravitated towards Allison's.

She caught his stare longingly. Somewhere, deep inside of her, a wrenching magnet drew her towards him. She searched his eyes, desperately searching for any sign that he felt a similar way. Was there anything about embracing Lizzie like that felt alien to him, like there should be somebody else in her place?

Isaac ripped his eyes away from Allison's and devoted his attention on the small pixie completely, hoping that no one had noticed the slip up.

But, Annie had noticed.

✯☾✯

The group had been divided, Chris, Allison, Annie and Isaac were on their way to the bank whilst Lizzie and Stiles had been trusted as a duo.

Lydia's house was Lizzie's favourite of her friend's houses. It was the biggest, for one, and the fanciest.

She gazed around the obnoxiously large living room in delight and threw herself onto the lavish sofa, sinking into the velvet cushions, after greeting Lydia with and hug and letting Stiles explain the situation to her.

"I don't believe it." Lydia immediately denied any thought of Scott McCall betraying his beloved pack. "Scott can't really be with them. He can't be."

Stiles sighed, "You didn't see the look on his face, though. It was..."

Lizzie always found Stiles and Lydia's conversations, or rather, arguments, quite fascinating as she spent half the time trying to decipher whether Lydia truly adored Stiles as much as he adored her.

Lydia sensed Stiles' nervousness, his anxiety that shook for his father, for Scott.

"Then, what can I do?" She offered kindly. "I mean. I get that I'm some sort of, like, human geiger counter for death. But, I don't know how to turn it on and off yet. All I know is that she tried to kill me because of—"

"Lyds, maybe you are like a grim reaper!" Lizzie suddenly came a revelation.

Stiles glared pointedly at her as if to make her aware that Lydia was not in the state to be discussing her species.

The muscles in Lydia's face dropped, the cogs in her brain clicking rapidly, "She called me a banshee. Jenifer was surprised by it. What if that's not why she tried to kill me?"

"Then why did she?" Stiles questioned.

Lizzie picked lazily at her polished nail beds, murmuring a second idea quietly.

"Maybe...she tried to kill you to cover her tracks. Somehow you can sense when someone has died, if she got rid of you then there would be less chance of people discovering the bodies and her identity..."

Lydia nodded, "This is what we need to find out."

✯☾✯

Chris Argent had performed an act of selfless bravery.

They had arrived at the bank i'm hopeful search of Jenifer Blake and Chris, in order to protect as may as possible, had volunteered him to the awaiting Darach.

He'd used some of his less lethal weapons to subdue Isaac and Annie and had handcuffed his own daughter to prevent them from trying to stop what was inevitably to happen.

After he had been swept away in the curious myst of the Darach, Isaac quickly regained his strength and leapt up to free Allison.

"Why did he do that?" Allison sobbed on confusion.

"I don't know," Isaac could not find an answer for Allison as he yanked her restraints, "But, we need to go, okay? We need help."

Isaac freed the dark haired girl and began to tug her towards the exit of the bank vault but, Allison stopped him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer to her, in the utmost desperation for comfort.

Isaac froze. He was still, almost too still. Allison's presence, her touch was heavy and the boy did not know what to do with himself.

"We have to go..." He whispered again, gently. His shoulders were hunched in the way they always were when he was confused about something, he remembered Lizzie had made him aware of this trait.

And he was unsure, completely bewildered because whilst he was fully aware that he adored his girlfriend with every piece of himself and he wanted her, he needed her in a way he had never needed anyone, there was something too disarming about standing this close to Allison.

It was like all his walls were crumbling as he felt her panicked breaths against his neck. Her eyes lingered too long at his. Maybe that was what concerned him the most, the fact that they were still lingering and he had not yet moved away.

And, suddenly, the rapid pace at which Allison's chest was heaving seemed to slow down and she closed her eyes.

"Lizzie's lucky," She said, her voice almost a whisper, "You are so kind."

Isaac looked at her, startled, as if her words had brought him back to himself. His throat felt tight. He wanted to agree, he wanted to shout from the rooftops that he was lucky too, that he loved Lizzie.

But, Allison looked to vulnerable and broken in front of him that it caused doubts to erupt in his mind. Not doubts about Lizzie and his devotion to her but doubts about whether he was meant to feel anything for anyone else. What would it mean?

Before anyone could comment further, Annie, who had picked herself up and had been glaring with narrow and beady eyes at the pair, coughed dramatically and gestured towards the door of the bank vault.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
well hey there!!

merry christmas all i hope you enjoyed!