It takes her a moment, a beat of deafening silence, to realize that his words were the words spoken out of her mouth seconds before that. For a second, she thinks she’s dreaming. After months of trying to make them hear her, it’s impossible that Stiles suddenly can. She’s lingered around the pack for months, dealt with watching them walk into bad situations. Granted, she did her best to help. But she can only do so much from this side. A shocked expression lingers on her face when she listens to him, swallowing hard.
“you can hear me.”
She doesn’t have time to dwell, or cry, even if she wants to. It doesn’t take a lot for her to realize that he can hear her. His facial expression are answer enough, and him repeating her words verbatim. She doesn’t have time to ask how, or why. Her only thought is that she doesn’t know how long it will last. It could be minutes before she’s forced to only stand by and watch.
“Tell them that my Dad just got back. Isaac is still in France, but my Dad’s here. Probably not for long, so they can’t wait.”
What else can she say? They wouldn’t believe Stiles if he said she was there. Every bit of her wants to say things to Lydia, to Scott, to remind them that she’s always there.
And then there’s Stiles. Who can hear her.
”These hunters. They like surprise attacks. Wolfsbane bullets are their thing. They also have people surrounding their building, so make sure you guys stay quiet.
If my Dad goes, which I’m sure he will, remind him to take my crossbow.
Or you take it. Stealthier way of knocking them out.”
She’s sure she sounds absolutely nuts, but there’s relief in her tone that masks the way she feels at knowing he can hear her.
She’s not alone.
”I missed you, you know.”
there really wasn’t any explanation for what was happening at this very moment – but Allison’s voice found it’s way back into his mind a few seconds after he spoke up, his mind going deaf to the questions shot his way from the pack once she began talking once more, his breathing halting – heart race picking up – his limbs beginning to tense as if he was bordering on the edge of some sort of panic attack; because something was definitely happening right now, and somehow, in some unexplainable way, Allison was in his head speaking to him –
Stiles could believe in a lot of things, but ghosts? it wasn’t something he certainly thought about, even with Death an apparent constant in his life – after the passing of his mother, he had wondered if he’d ever feel a presence of her around. if her supposed spirit would knock something over, or make a sound, or he’d catch a whiff of her perfume– anything to make him believe that she was still there. he got nothing though. just the overwhelming absence of a dead mother.
so ghosts were hard to believe in, even in the world he was currently living at the moment – people either lived or died. there was no real in between; but people could always come back.
( but Allison was still talking in his head, and she was giving warnings – as if she had been along for the entire ride they’d been having since her fall – as if she had been watching. )
head jerking up when he hears his name leave Scott’s mouth, his brow raises as he nods his head, understanding the silent request to continue —-
“Christ Argent is back. I don’t know for how long – but right now, he’s here, and he could be our only chance with getting an upper hand on these assholes. For the sake of this pack – we find him. We see what he knows. We ask for his help.”
there were expressions on their faces – ones that wanted to ask how he knew such things, but there were also looks of unwavering confidence in what he was saying. he was their guide for a reason, and despite a shaky past, they all had had years to figure out how to work together – and he always had a plan. this? this was the plan now. there was a heavy underlying promise of ‘just trust me’ hanging in the air that they all felt – and it was finalized. a mutual agreement spread through the pack at his words, Scott turning to Lydia as a discussion on how to reach Chris began to rise ——
'Out of all the heads to get stuck in, I'm sure mine is probably the worst. I don't know what's going on, Allison, but I can hear you."
( he was just thinking as one normally would, really —- but something made him feel as though it would work. and he believed it would, too. )
'I can hear you-- and we're gonna figure this out.
