It took only moments for Allison to get into her apartment. She knew that her father wouldn't have left much of value when he went to France, so only the simple lock attached to the doorknob was actually locked. The other locks that had adorned the inside of the door were just for show at this point in time. Having used the bobby pins she found in the pocket of Mrs McCall's jeans in the keyhole, the door swung open easily when she twisted the handle. All that was left was the alarm, which she was thankful that her father hadn't bothered to change either. In his grief he was determined and singular minded, she knew that if his intention was to leave, he wouldn't care what he left.

After punching in the code on the keypad by the door, Allison finally allowed herself to take a look at her former home. Walking through the hall, she approached her old bedroom and nudged open the already ajar door.

The room was intact, exactly the way she'd left when she'd headed out that cool March morning. Her bed was made, but it was obvious that someone had sat on it and caused the blankets to go askew and left an impression. Who it was, she didn't know, but she knew that they'd come in here to mourn her.

And what a place to do that. There were pictures, which had started to gather dust, of her and her friends, her and her family, all through out the room. On her nightstand, on her desk, on her dresser; all different little versions of her, smiling out to whomever wanted to see.

Allison made her way to the closet, pulling open the folding doors. Hangers full of clothing hung straight, packing the small space. Pulling a sleeve toward her face, she could start to smell the stale scent that had settled in the time they'd been untouched. Grimacing and stepping back, she grabbed a long polka dotted shirt and shook it out beside her, trying to get some air through the fabric, before setting it down on her bed. Moving to her dresser, she took out a pair of faded black jeans and some fresh undergarments, which she set down beside the shirt. She grabbed the bottom of her borrowed sweater and pulled it off over her head, letting it land unceremoniously on the floor beside her. The blue jeans and filthy bra and underwear followed, and now she standing totally naked in the middle of her old room.

Dressing in the outfit she'd laid out for herself, Allison rested her hands against her hips and looked down at herself, pleased. She was finally starting to feel like Allison Argent again, in her own clothes and in control of her own life. One last thing, though. She reached up and brought her knotted hair, which had been resting like a mop on her shoulders, up on top of her head and used an elastic from her dresser to pull the strands away from her face, creating a large bun on the back of her skull. She was put together again.

She made her way through the rest of the apartment after that, trying to piece together what had occurred there after she passed. Unfortunately, Chris had cleaned up pretty well. His room was spotless, the only thing different than she'd remembered was the empty closet and drawers which had once been full of clothing and hidden weaponry. The kitchen was also empty, save for a few spices in the cupboards and a hidden Twinkie in the panty. Even her father's office, which had been so full of life and mystery before, was packed up. There were some of his sonar emitters left, and a few guns were left in their cases, but all of his notes and maps and plans had been taken with him.

All of this proved to be quite disappointing to Allison, who'd hoped to see more signs that he'd intended on returning soon. Now, she had to trust that Scott had gotten a hold of her dad or Isaac and gotten them to rush back.

Finished with her tour, she walked back into her room and sat herself down in front of her desk. Moving a few of her books and journals, some of which she was sure someone had read once she'd gone, she found what she was looking for. Her own computer.

It took a few moments for it to start up, having been dormant for just under a month. As she waited for the bright screen to settle into something she could use, she thought about what her friends would be doing right at that second. Confused as they were, they were probably still able to get to and from each of their classes with no real difficulty. They'd be in Econ, listening to Coach pretend to teach and then spending the rest of the class playing Hangman on their notes. Or maybe they were in History, listening to Kira's dad actually teach. She couldn't remember their schedules after all this time, but she could remember enough to know that she missed it. She'd never thought when she moved to Beacon Hills that she would actually like it enough to not want to leave and go on to the next high school. Who knew.

Finally, her desktop appeared, ready to be used. It was a picture of her and the gang, back from her first year here. They all looked so young, Scott with his longer hair and Stiles with his short style. Lydia was gorgeous as ever as her arms were wrapped around the first person she'd loved, the first of the group to leave. She let herself live in the memory of the moment for only a second before opening up a web browser, determined to figure out just what the hell was going on.

She had every intention of opening up a translator, and then going up into her files to open up the Bestiary so that she could see if anyone had ever encountered the flaming creature from her time on the other side, but the sight of the websites she had bookmarked in the corner of the browser was too tempting. She opened up her Facebook account, which her computer was still logged in to, and was overwhelmed by the amount of notifications that were indicated by the red bubble on the top bar. When she clicked on it, she saw they were all from people posting on her wall, giving their condolences.

There were a lot of one liners, people saying that they hadn't known her too well but knew that she didn't deserve what had happened to her. They were people that were just faces that she vaguely remembered passing in the halls of Beacon Hills or her past schools, people that sure as hell didn't know her.

But then, as she scrolled through to earliest posts, she saw the ones that mattered. The messages from people who actually had known her, and had no other way to express themselves.

Lydia had posted a picture of the two of them at a party, one of the first pictures they had taken together, and had accompanied it with a message that brought Allison to tears. Obviously, Lydia couldn't say anything about her powers or the situation that brought about her best friend's death online, but she went on about how Allison had always been there for her when she didn't know who she was anymore, or when she didn't know if she was sane. It was beautiful.

Scott had also posted a picture, a scan of the ripped photo from their date at the ice rink. He wrote something that, in it's own way, was also quite beautiful. Scott didn't really have a way with words, but even in his awkward jilted sentences, he managed to express his memories and changed love for her in a way that made the tears that were already in her eyes threaten to spill over.

Stiles had written a shorter message than the other two, but was heartfelt all the same. It was heartbreaking and funny all at once, in just a few sentences, which described the boy completely. She cherished every word he wrote because she knew they all meant something.

And then, as she scrolled down as far as she could without getting back into her own postings, she saw the name of the person she'd sought to hear from, the first person to have written something to her memory.

"Allison,

I don't really know what to say right now. I don't know that I'll ever know what to say, really. I never was good with words or expressing what I feel or being witty, but for now, I'll try.

I don't know what to do without you.

For the first time in my life, I was happy. I'd found Scott and the rest of the pack, and they'd led me to you. I'll admit, I wasn't all that fond of you at first. You'd been less than kind to the people I'd considered my friends at the time (You know what I mean). But that was before.

Before I knew how strong you were. Before I knew the beauty that you held. Before I knew what you would come to mean to me.

So then I fell. Head over heels. You didn't care that I'd spent half my childhood locked in a freezer and you didn't care about what I could become whenever I lost control. You wanted me as much as I wanted you.

When you would smile, so would I. I would smile wider than I'd ever thought that I could. And you'd look up at me and I'd look down at you and everything was finally right. We were together, in every way that we could be.

But it couldn't last. I wanted it to, God knows that's all that I wanted, but you were taken too soon. Taken from life and taken from me.

I just wish I had gotten the chance to tell you how I feel. To say what you told Scott. I understand why you said it, because it was true, but I wish it had been me. And I wish that you were still here.

I miss you so much, Allison.

Isaac Lahey."

Allison couldn't move from where she was sitting. Her eyes were glued to the screen in front of her, reading the words over and over, until she couldn't read them anymore. Her sight was ruined by the tears that were finally flowing down her cheeks. She tried to wipe them away with her fingers, but more just kept coming and retracing the lines down her face so she gave up. Leaning her head back, she looked up at the ceiling and tried to blink away the tears, to stop the flow, but she couldn't stop thinking about what was causing them in the first place.

Isaac. She'd known they had liked each other, and that she definitely felt something for him. She wouldn't have slept with him otherwise. But if he felt about her the way that she used to feel about Scott...

She had to find him. She had to let him know how she felt. She had to make this better, to do something to stop this pit in the bottom of her stomach from getting bigger.

But if he felt that way about her, that meant that maybe he would do absolutely anything to get her back. This might mean that he did something incredibly stupid to raise her from the dead.

Wiping her eyes once and for all, she returned her gaze to the laptop with a new determination. Without glancing at any more of the messages that had been left for her, Allison opened a new window and made her way to a translator, then opened up the Bestiary. The only thing she could base her search on was that flaming figure and the fact that she had been dead. So, finding the words for 'flame' and 'death', she set out combing through the Archaic Latin of the old book.

A few times she thought she'd found something, but it turned out to be something else. The first time it was a fire kitsune, another kind of what Kira was which was interesting, but probably not what she was looking for. The second time, the creature it was referencing was a phoenix. Allison knew for a fact that she was one hundred percent human, so she couldn't be one, and there was nothing in the Bestiary about the phoenix being able to bring someone else back to life (and she hadn't been burnt to death, anyway) so it couldn't be that either.

Hours passed with Allison leaning over her desk, her eyes drying out from the harshness of the screen and the sometimes indecipherable language. She was put into something a trance, constantly rechecking translations and double checking spelling. The thousand page document kept refusing to yield results, no matter how much she needed them.

She was only starting to feel like she should get up and find something to eat in the apartment (surely the Twinkie she'd seen earlier was still good) when she heard a knock at the front door. She looked at the corner of the screen and saw the time, four o'clock, and knew who it was right away.

"Come in!" She called, sure that no matter what volume she'd spoken at the person on the other side of the door would hear.

And she was right, as she saw a small gaggle of people entering the apartment through her open bedroom door. Scott had taken the lead, Lydia following with Stiles at her side, and then Kira and Malia taking up the rear. Stiles was holding a few plastic bags in his hands, which he dropped onto the kitchen counter as he walked through the apartment.

"It really is true," Malia made her way from the back of the group to look at Allison, who had just gotten up from her chair. "You didn't stay dead."

Allison gave her a puzzled look, and when the coyote's expression didn't change, she directed it at Scott. He shrugged his shoulders, then made his way into her room, trying to see what she'd been working on.

"It's the Bestiary," She explained, "I'm just trying to figure out what happened."

"We can help!" Scott exclaimed, gesturing at the others to join them in her room. Lydia and Stiles made their way in easily, while Kira and Malia seemed to be more cautious as they followed, obviously uneasy with the situation and location.

"Can you read Archaic Latin?" Allison asked jokingly, then was suddenly hit with a memory that stopped her lips from curling into a smile. If Scott answered something like, 'I can look at pictures,', it would be too much, too similar to a conversation she'd had before.

Scott noticed her change in expression and tapped her shoulder, giving her a questioning look when she looked back at him. She shook her head and looked towards Lydia, who responded by rushing to her side.

"I definitely can. Move," She ordered Scott to the side, and he retreated to stand by Stiles as Lydia took Allison's vacated spot at the desk and began scrolling through the pages.

Allison moved towards her bed and took a seat on the edge of it, looking around at the group of friends that surrounded her.

"How was school?" She asked in general, desperate to get rid of the uncomfortable air in the room that was undoubtably because of her.

"Uhh," Stiles started, darting his eyes around the group. She could tell there was something they were all hiding when everyone, even Scott, refused to meet his gaze.

"What is it?" Allison asked, this time focusing her question at Stiles.

"Well," He began again, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm as he looked at his feet. "We won't have lacrosse practice again for a while."

"What does that mean?" She pressed, crossing her legs and leaning forward on the bed.

"Coach is missing," Scott broke the news in one breath. "I mean, we're pretty sure he is. They said he was sick but I heard some teachers talking and... he just didn't show up for work."

"So?" She was confused. "It wouldn't be the first time Coach had a little too much and skipped a day."

"It wouldn't be a problem if he was the first person to disappear," Stiles stated cautiously.

At this, Allison stood, crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking directly at Scott.

"You didn't tell me there was something going on." She said accusingly.

"I wasn't sure this morning, there'd only been two people missing, and they'd disappeared more than a week apart!" Scott threw up his hands in front of his chest defensively, avoiding her gaze.

"What do you guys think it is?"

"We can't tell," Kira chimed in, probably to relieve Scott from having to talk anymore. She was sweet that way, Allison could tell. She was happy for them. "They disappeared a week and a half apart and haven't shown up yet."

"Oh," Allison let her arms fall from across her chest, mulling over the information. "Wait, when did this all start?"

"Three weeks and a half weeks ago, approximately," Stiles provided, nodding his head slightly. They'd all been thinking this over quite a bit, it would seem.

"We didn't notice it at first, because the first person vanished just after we got rid of the Nogitsune." Scott was more willing to offer up information now. "It was Rachel, from our Calculus class. And then it was Nicholson, an Officer from the Sheriff's department. And now, Coach."

"So, you're saying that this all," Allison waved her hands around abstractedly, thinking about the timeline, "Started happening just after I died?"

Everyone in the room, except Lydia, who was still hard at work at the desk, snapped their necks as they looked up at her as she spoke those last words. It seemed like everyone was just a little uncomfortable with the fact that she had, indeed, been dead. She couldn't blame them, she was too. She just figured saying it out loud would help make it less weird; evidently, she'd been wrong.

"You could say that, yes," Stiles agreed, breaking the quiet that had followed quickly.

"Do you think they could be connected?" She voiced what it looked like they'd all been thinking.

"Maybe," Scott said, but his voice wasn't connected with the word he spoke. This was a possibility they'd already considered.

"Okay," Allison turned and leant over Lydia's shoulder, staring at the lines of the Bestiary. "Any luck, then?"

"Not yet," Lydia shook her head, not moving her eyes from the screen. "But if there's something to find, I'll find it. I just need time."

Allison straightened up and turned back to the group. Stiles had taken her place on the bed and Malia was leaning with her backside against the top of her dresser, Kira doing the same beside her. Scott was still standing off to the side, and everyone was looking to her for what to do next. Allison was saved from admitting that she had absolutely no idea what to do other than wait as another knock echoed from the front door of the apartment. Confusedly, she looked back at everyone who was standing in her room, and back to the door. She had no idea who else knew they were here.

"Oh!" Scott leapt forward, heading towards her bedroom door and into the hallway beyond. "I forgot to tell you!"

"Forgot to tell me what?" Allison followed him out into the front of the flat and watched as he took a hold of the handle of the door.

Scott flung open the door, stepping back with a giant grin on his face as he made way for her to see who stood on her front step.

It was him.