She heard a noise coming from the back of the locker room. It sounded like something had hit the wall. Slowly she walked, reaching into her pocket for a dagger just in case. In Beacon Hills, if you're senses said that something was off, then something was most likely off. As she turned the corner, she saw him facing the wall and recognized the jersey number: 11. She let out a small sigh of relief and went into the showers. As Allison made her way towards him, she could see that he was panting and shaking. Letting go of the dagger, she walked closer and reached her hand to his shoulder.

"Scott? Scott, are you okay?" Her hand felt his shoulder slowly start to relax. She could feel how tense he had been, and it worried her. After a moment, he turned around. His expression turned from tense to chill in a matter of seconds. He did that when he didn't want people to worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I wasn't feeling well, and after the game, I just kind of bolted. Last thing coach wants is me hurling on the field after a win." They both chuckled at the thought of coach's reaction. Realizing he was starting to change the subject, she stopped and took on a more serious tone.

"Are you sure you're okay? You can tell me if something's wrong." She gently put her hand on his face. They were broken up, but she still had a soft spot for him. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the comfort she was giving. It was like old times again, and she could feel it. Once the thought crossed her mind, she immediately put her hand down.

"I'm fine, I promise. Why do you look so concerned?" he asked as he took a step closer towards her.

Her heart started to beat faster. She thought she had gotten over him, but why was her body reacting as if she wasn't. "I, um….I still care."

Scott took another step closer, their faces only inches apart. She could feel her heart ready to beat out of her chest. His face started to lean in, and Allison felt a familiar feeling: butterflies. This had to stop. She couldn't, she wouldn't do this again.

"Scott, we can-" He leaned in and their lips touched. Rather than fighting it, she closed her eyes and returned his kiss. She parted her lips and their tongues met while she wrapped her arms around his neck. He grabbed her waist to pull her body closer to his, and she could feel the warmth emitting from his body. Allison had never felt this strongly about Scott before. Yes, she had loved him, but the feelings of arousal and passion had never been this strong.

He slowly steered them around and gently pinned her to the shower wall. His lips drifted from hers, and he began to slowly plant kisses on her neck. Her fingers ran through his hair. Feelings of arousal and confusion circled her mind. She had to stop this, she couldn't give in.

She pushed him back, "We have to stop." He looked up at her and once their eyes met, Allison gasped. The guy looking back at her had light brown locks and blue eyes, not the almond eyes Scott had.

"Isaac?"

Isaac stepped back, his hands clutching his chest near his heart.

"Isaac, what's wrong?" She stepped towards him, looking at where his hands were. Then, she saw it. A small piece of metal jutted out from his heart. Looking closer, Allison recognized it: it was her arrow piercing his heart.

"Look at Allison going after two werewolves. I went after one and got labeled a sociopath. If you go after two, what does that make you?" Allison knew that voice. It was a voice that she couldn't get out of her head. She looked around, but she couldn't see her. She looked back at Isaac, and she could see the life being drained out of him. He tumbled to the ground, and then she saw. Right behind him was her: Aunt Kate, smiling sadistically and giving her a small wave.

"Let me know you how to make sure a werewolf is really dead." Kate took out two daggers and knelt next to Isaac's body. Allison felt paralyzed, she tried to move her body to stop her, but she couldn't. As soon as the first dagger impaled Isaac's throat, she screamed.

Allison frantically jolted up, clutching tightly to her sheets. She couldn't control the tears streaming down her face as she tried to catch her breath. A dream, it was just a dream. Breathe Allison. Breathe. Slowly, she started to regain control of her breathing. It was just a dream. Just go back to sleep, it was just a nightmare. She started to reach around the bed for her phone to check the time. Instead of her phone, she felt something else. It felt like a string. Her hand followed the string to figure out what it was attached to, and then as soon as she felt it, she knew. Looking down at the other side of her bed, she saw her bow.