Scott's phone is ringing as Melissa walks into the kitchen. He's sitting at the table, staring at the screen of his cell phone, but not answering it. She sees that it's Kira calling, sees the way her son still isn't making a move to accept the call and that's a sure sign that something is not okay.

"Everything alright, sweetie?" Melissa asks him, still standing behind him.

She doesn't get a response.

"Scott?"

"Uh, yeah, everything's fine, mom," he tells her unconvincingly.

She aims a clearly disbelieving look his way, but he is still staring at the screen of his phone as Kira starts calling again.

This time he presses ignore.

"There a reason you're avoiding her?" Melissa asks, trying not to come off as too intrusive.

Again, she's met with silence. She wants to push, wants to ask questions, god she wants to, but she doesn't. She won't. Not until he's ready, and frankly she doesn't know when that is going to be, given, well, everything.

She's about to leave the kitchen, about to force herself to give him the privacy she thinks he wants, when she hears him just barely whisper, "I miss her."

It stops her in her tracks. It's not the answer to the question she asked him, Scott is definitely not talking about Kira. He doesn't need to say who "her" is. He doesn't need to say Allison. He's never really needed to.

It's always been about her, really.

If Melissa's honest with herself, she can admit that she's always known Allison was everything to Scott. They broke up, sure. People do that. People do that all the time. But she knows it was never real for Scott. Melissa knows Scott never stopped caring about her, she knows Scott always knew they would get back together, and if thinking about how that is never going to happen now breaks Melissa's heart she can't even begin to imagine what it is doing to her son.

She crosses the kitchen quickly and takes a seat next to Scott, turning to wrap her arm tightly across his chest. He grips her arm and leans forward, face pressing against her sleeve. She sees the tears start to roll down his cheeks before his shuddering breaths turn into full sobs. She holds him closer, kisses the top of his dark hair and tries not to cry along with him.

For the millionth time that year alone, Melissa wishes things were different. She no longer cares that her son is a werewolf, it had been a shock at first, of course, but he wasn't a monster. She knew that. He was still Scott, he was still her little boy, and nothing, not even being a werewolf, would ever be able to change that. No, she doesn't wish he was human because she hates what he is, she just wishes he didn't have to deal with any of this.

A seventeen year old boy should not have the weight of the safety of an entire town pressing down on him. A seventeen year old boy should not have had to watch his best friend lose himself to a possessed fox. A seventeen year old boy should not have had to experience his first love bleeding out in his arms.

Melissa knows that just because people fall in love more than once doesn't mean they ever get over a love that's torn away too soon.