Chapter Text
“Let me see your phone,” Stiles says, holding his hand out under the desk.
“Don’t get it taken away,” Scott says, reaching into his pocket and placing it into Stiles’ hand, not letting go though. “I’m serious, Stiles.”
“I won’t.” Stiles places his right hand above his heart. “I promise.”
“Fine.” Scott lets go of the phone reluctantly before looking back down at his textbook, pretending to do work. What other teacher would make students do work on the last day anyway? And now, of course, him and Stiles are stuck in the one teacher’s classroom they can’t stand.
Scott peers out of the corner of his eyes and can see stiles tapping away vigorously at his screen, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. If it were any other time Scott wouldn’t even hesitate to take a marker and poke the tip of Stiles’ tongue, but now is not the time.
“Sent,” Stiles whispers. “Now let’s hope my dad has been practicing and can send back a text faster than a telegram could get to me.”
“Either way,” Scott says, “we’re stuck here.” He ends it with a wink and he can see Stiles’ mouth rise into a smirk.
“You know,” Stiles says, closing his book, loudly. “It’s the last day, what the hell is Harris gonna do?”
“Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris says, glaring from behind a book. “Did I say for you to stop working?”
“No.” Stiles drops his pencil onto the table, smirking.
“Stiles,” Scott says under his breath, “dude.”
“Don’t worry, Scotty.” Stiles stands up and crosses his arms. “What are you gonna do, Harris? Send me to the principal? We’re on a lockdown.”
Scott watches Mr. Harris as he puts his book down on his desk, his face deadly serious; Scott can see his cheeks are getting red and he wants to tell Stiles to stop, but at the same time, Stiles has a point. It’s a lock down, something could be really wrong and Mr. Harris is still going to make them work? Even on the last day? It just doesn’t seem fair and truth be told, Scott wants to watch Mr. Harris get his ass handed to him.
“You can’t physically touch me. So what the hell are you going to do? Give me a detention? After today you have no control over me.”
“Mr. Stilinski!” Harris shouts, standing up and slamming his hands down on his desk. “Sit down this instant you insolent little bastard.”
“Or what?”
“Or I will send you to the principal’s office.”
Scott’s heart is pounding in his chest and there’s no way Harris is going to send Stiles to the office, not even Harris is that insane. But the look on his face is making Scott really uncomfortable.
“Hold that thought,” Stiles says, pulling out Scott’s phone. “It’s my dad.”
“Give me that phone, now!”
Mr. Harris storms around his desk and Scott watches Stiles’ face morph from a smirk to a hollow face of horror as he sits back down in his chair.
“Stiles?” Scott asks, already fearing the response.
“There’s…” Stiles falters and shakes his head. “There’s a shooter in the school.”
Harris snatches the phone from Stiles’ hand. “What did you say you little-”
“There’s a shooter in the school.”
“You’re sure?” Scott asks, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder, not knowing what to do, what to say.
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Mr. Harris says, clearing his throat. “I think we all need to just…” He hands Stiles back the phone. “Let’s just not worry and sit through it. You don’t have to work or anything.”
“Thanks,” Stiles says, reading over the message again and handing it to Scott. “Read this.”
Mr. S: Glad you’re safe. Shooter in the school. Don’t go anywhere in the school. Possibly 2 people shot. Keep you updated. Love you son.
Scott rereads it, feeling his heart starting to pound in his chest while his stomach twists in knots. He’s hoping he’s just overreacting, but for some reason he has this horrific feeling that Allison might be one of the two and that thought tears apart at his insides.
Already tapping away at his phone he shoots Allison a text. A minute passes and nothing. He sends another one, and another one until he clicks call and puts the phone up to his ear. Scott can see Stiles in the corner of his eye and he looks worried as he watches Scott.
It rings four times and then Allison’s beautiful voice fills Scott’s ears and for a split second he sighs out in relief until he realizes it’s her voicemail recording.
“Hi, you’ve reached Allison. I’m not in right now, so leave your name and number at the beep and I will try my best to get back to you.” Scott can hear her giggle and then, “Scott, I’m recording-”
Beep.
He thinks back to when she recorded that voicemail on her new phone. They were together at the park and she had already tried five other times to make sure it turned out well but she didn’t like any of them, so she made up her mind and said that the next one would be her last one. Scott remembers smirking because he knew he would tickle her right as she was ending it just so if she didn’t pick up he could hear her perfect laugh that always makes him smile. Only thing is, this time it isn’t making him feel better, it’s just making him more and more worried.
“Allison isn’t picking up,” Scott says, gnawing on his lower lip. “What if she was one of them? Like her and Jackson during swim practice?”
“Dude, don’t think like that,” Stiles says, grabbing Scott’s wrists and holding it. “She’s fine. Maybe she rushed to class and forgot her phone in her locker? Besides, doesn’t she have class with Lydia right now? Text Lydia. She always has her phone on her.”
-xxx-
Lydia’s phone buzzes on her desk and she turns away from Isaac, who she’s been talking to non stop since the whole ordeal started, trying her best to keep him distracted.
“So what’s your dream house going to look like?” Lydia asks as she grabs her phone and unlocks it, seeing a text from Scott.
Scott: is allison in class with you???
Lydia: no. i havent seen her all morning. is everything okay scott?
Lydia can feel her stomach drop and as much as she doesn’t want to worry Isaac, if Allison is in trouble she is not going to sit there and do nothing.
Isaac is still explaining his dream house when Scott texts back.
Scott: she had swim practice with jackson and i dont know if they got back to class or not?
Jackson is out there too? Lydia makes eye contact with Isaac and he stops talking, furrowing his brow.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Allison isn’t in class and Jackson hasn’t texted me all morning. They were in swim practice together this morning but no one has seen them since. I’m worried…” Her voice breaks and she stops herself before she starts to think of the worst case scenario.
“Oh, my God.” Isaac’s breathing isn’t becoming erratic and Lydia takes that as a good sign. “Text them. I’m sure one of them has their phone on them.”
-xxx-
Allison stops banging on the door and realizes that Matt is going to wake up any second and she needs to get out. She looks down and sees that he dropped the gun when she hit him. She rushes forward and is about to grab the gun when Matt groggily groans and holds his nose where she smashed the stapler down.
“Fucking bitch,” he says, and Allison wastes no time. She has the gun in her hand and is standing above him, pointing it directly at his face.
“How the fuck did you get it to lock?” Her breathing is hitched and she can feel the adrenaline racing through her veins. “Tell me!”
“I have the key,” Matt says smirking. “You think I’d bring you into a room that doesn’t lock? Come on, Allison, I’m not an idiot.”
“Give me the keys!” Allison cocks the gun, her hand is shaking.
“You’re not going to shoot me.”
“Try me.”
Her face is heated and she isn’t sure if she can go through with killing him, but she has no qualms about shooting him in the leg so he won’t be able to chase her. She yells at him again to get the keys and he smirks, reaching behind him.
“They’re in my back pocket.”
Allison watches him closely as his hand moves to his back pocket. Any wrong movement and she will shoot him. A bead of sweat runs down her forehead and into her eye. It burns but she does not move a muscle. She will not let him hurt anyone else.
“I knew you would fight,” he says. His voice sends a chill down her spine and makes all her hairs stand on end. “I didn’t expect you to fight that hard. I figured once I told you I loved you and showed you I was willing to kill for you that you would underst--”
“Just shut the fuck up and give me the key, Matt.”
“Your wish is my command.” Matt slowly stands up and Allison adjusts her aim so it is still focused on him. “Here you go.” He hands her a key and she snatches it from his hand, trying her best not to make any contact.
“Stay right there.”
Allison keeps the pistol aimed at him and pivots so she can reach the door with her left hand. Her eyes are shifting back and forth from Matt to the door until she is able to get the key into the hole. Just one more turn, she thinks, just one more turn and you’re free.
Averting her eyes for one quick second, Allison turns the key in the lock and hears the click. Her entire body eases as she goes to open the door.
“You should have let me finish.” Matt has blood running down his face, his nose is gashed and swollen and purple is already starting to swell around both his eyes.
“Fuck you.”
“Not before,” he says matter-of-factly. “I mean what I was telling you. I told you I knew you would put up a fight. Did you really think I’d only bring one thing?”
Before Allison can understand what he means and react, Matt lashes out with a knife in his right hand. Allison shrieks as the knife slashes across her wrist, causing her to drop the gun. She can feel the warm blood gushing out from her wound and as she looks up from it Matt is directly in front of her.
“Such a shame,” he says as he plunges the knife into her side.
Allison falls into him, the pain shooting through her body like a lightning bolt. She lets out a gasp and screams out in pain as he yanks it out. Her hand automatically slams into her side as she applies pressure on the stab wound. Eyes as wide as can be, Allison falls back against the door and watches as Matt tilts his head and watches her as if he is a kid watching an ant burn under a magnifying glass.
Matt steps forward but before he can attack again, Allison kicks his knee with all her might. Matt lets out a yelp as his leg gives out on him and he falls backward, hitting his head on the shelves. Before she can see if he is getting back up, Allison scrambles to her feet and tries to open the door. The knob keeps slipping in her blood soaked hand and she can hear Matt trying to get up behind her.
“Come on!” She wipes her hand on her pants and tries again, this time the door opens. Without looking back, Allison slams the door behind her and starts running through the hallway. She is not able to run as fast as normal because the pain from her abdomen is slowing her down, but she is charging as fast as she can.
“Help! Somebody help!”
Bang.
Allison ducks as a bullet misses her and hits a locker.
“Come back here!” Matt shouts as he fires another shot.
-xxx-
Lydia hears two more gunshots and then someone screaming for help. She looks around and can see that everyone in class heard it also.
“Everyone stay calm and let’s get away from the door.” The teacher says, standing up and motioning for the kids to move back.
Lydia turns to Isaac and they both listen. Someone is definitely screaming help and Lydia can feel herself getting more and more antsy. How is she supposed to just sit here while someone might die? She can’t.
There’s a banging at the door and Lydia can see Allison’s face. There is blood streaked across her forehead and her eyes are frantic and full of fear.
“That’s Allison! We have to let her in!” Lydia stands up and rushes towards the door.
“Lydia sit down,” her teacher says, grabbing her by the arms. “We can’t let anyone in, you know that.”
“I’m not going to sit idly by while my friend is in danger. Now let go of me!” Lydia yanks her arm away and runs to the door, but Allison is gone.
Isaac is behind Lydia before she realizes it and together they crack open the door.
“Allison,” Lydia whispers, trying not to draw the attention of the shooter. “Allison?”
Lydia steps out fully and Isaac is right by her side. She turns her gaze from left to right but doesn’t see anyone.
“Alliso --”
“Lydia, run!” Allison’s voice echoes down the hall and Lydia can see Matt turning the corner. The door behind her closes and now her and Isaac find themselves stuck in the hallway.
Bang.
Isaac screams out in pain and falls the ground. Lydia grabs his arm and without a thought, she yanks him to his feet and the two of them start running.
“He shot me in the leg!” Isaac shouts, and Lydia can see the blood coming out from his calf. “I can’t run as fast as you. You need to go.”
“I’m not leaving you!” Lydia yells, still pulling him by the arm. Think, Lydia, think.
“Over here!” Up ahead they see Allison standing by a door, waving for them to come over.
“Allison!” Lydia cries out and rushes up to her, slamming her into a full body hug. “Are you okay? DId he hurt you?” Lydia looks down and has her questions answered when she sees the red stained shirt and the blood dripping from her hands.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Allison’s eyes are watery and she blinks away the tears. “We need to keep moving.”
“I can’t.” Isaac says, and Lydia can see that his leg is bleeding profusely now. “You guys run ahead and I’ll hide in here.” He points to the janitor’s closet. “It’s dark and I can hide behind all the supplies.”
“Where the fuck are you guys!” Matt’s voice comes barreling down the hall and snaps them into action.
Begrudgingly, Lydia and Allison agree and each give Isaac a hug. Isaac tells them it will be fine and nothing bad will happen, so long as they keep him out of range of everyone.
“We can do this,” Allison says, grabbing Lydia’s hand. “We can.”
Lydia nods and watches Isaac open up the door, giving them a quick wave before he closes it behind him. Allison starts to run and Lydia takes one momentary pause to think it over but before she has time to object, she can see Matt’s shadow around the corner.
-xxx-
Isaac is crammed in the closet, isolated by complete darkness. All he can hear is the sound of his erratic breathing while his heart pounds in his chest.
“You’re okay,” he tells himself. “You are okay. Just breathe.”
The pain in his leg is getting worse and he can feel the blood still coming out and seeping down his calf. Isaac takes off his belt and wraps it around the top of his calf, tying it as tightly as he can. Hopefully that will slow the bleeding.
Why did he choose the janitorial closet? Any other place would have been fine but this? This is awful. His chest is starting to feel tighter and he can’t get as much air in as usual. It feels like he is suffocating. Fuck. He tries to tell himself he’s fine but he can’t seem to stop his body from panicking.
Feeling like the walls are closing in on him, his breathing continues to get more shallow the more confined he feels. He wants to scream and thrash and get out of there but he knows his life depends on it. He will make it through this. He has to.
Isaac hears footsteps outside the door and he smashes his hands into his face to cover his mouth. He is not sure how long it has been but it feels like an uncomfortable amount of time but at this point, his irrational fear of these four walls closing in on him is now overshadowed by the fear of what is waiting for him on the other side of that door.
Listening closely, Isaac can’t hear a thing but his own muffled breathing. The silence is not welcomed however because it’s making him even more anxious. Then there is the sound of a click from behind the door and Isaac can see a shadow form in the crack underneath the door frame.
What feels like an eternity passes before Isaac is forced to watch as the door creaks open and he is now faced with Matt towering above him.
“Isaac,” Matt says, a smile eroding across his face. “Not the person I was hoping for but I can make due.”
“Ple...please.” Isaac can’t get the words out in between the painful need to fill his lungs.
“You know what I’ve come to realize?” Matt squats down in front of Isaac. “People beg for mercy when they know they’re going to die. Did you know that?”
“Matt...I…”
“Oh, shut the fuck up you blubbering idiot.” Matt takes the butt of the gun and smashes it into the side of Isaac’s jaw, slamming his body to the ground. “I know this because I begged for help last weekend at the party while I was drowning. I know this because Erica begged for her life. I know this because Allison begged for her life and now you’re begging. Isn’t that funny?”
Isaac can’t catch his breath and now he’s gasping, desperate for any bit of air to find its way into his chest. The burning pain that his lungs feel is almost as painful as the bullet wound in his leg.
“I’ll tell you why it’s funny, you pathetic asshole.” Matt reaches down and yanks Isaac back up so he is sitting in front of him, then he sticks the barrel of the pistol in his mouth.
Tears are streaming down Isaac’s face as he tries his best to keep breathing.
“It’s funny because you all walk around school like you are immortal. You fucking jocks get everything and never have to deal with the thought of someone not coming to help. I almost died that night and none of you stopped it! So I want to hear you beg, Isaac. Beg for your pathetic life.”
Isaac lets out the last gasp he can manage and then he hears the gun click and everything goes dark.
-xxx-
“I’m just worried,” Scott says, running his hands through his hair. “I keep hearing gunshots.”
“I know, Scott.” Stiles pulls him in and wraps his arms around Scott’s shoulder. “We’re all worried, but Allison is tough. There is no way she is even in trouble. She probably stayed in the locker rooms and is waiting it out like the rest of--”
Stiles is cut off by banging at the door. Scott looks up and sees Allison and Lydia frantically banging on the door. Scott’s stomach plummets as he kicks his chair out from behind him and rushes for the door.
Mr. Harris stands up but Scott is already past him and to the door. Without hesitation he opens the door and Allison steps in. Lydia is right behind her and is taking a step into the door when a bullet shoots through the back of her head and explodes out the front of her face, blood spraying all over Scott.
Scott stumbles back in shock, blinking over and over again and watches as Lydia’s body falls face first into the tile floor, making a loud thud as a pool of blood circles around her. Half of Lydia’s body is still outside of the classroom and the door won’t close.
“We need to move her,” Allison says, her face completely lifeless as she stares down at Lydia’s corpse. “Scott, Stiles, we need to…” Allison gags and falls to the floor crying.
“Stiles,” Scott says, trying to keep it together for his friends and himself. “Grab one arm and I’ll grab the other. We have to drag her in. If we go for her legs we could get shot.” Scott watches as Stiles is standing completely still, his head bobbing very slightly as tears fall down his cheeks. “Stiles!”
Stiles snaps out of his daze and nods, reaching down and taking one of her arms. Scott grabs the other and they start to pull. The feel of dragging one of his best friend’s lifeless bodies through a puddle of her own blood makes Scott want to puke. He has never felt this low before, this utterly disgusted with life. Lydia did not deserve that, none of them did.
“Not so fast.” Matt kicks his leg and makes the door swing open. “If anyone so much as breathes I will kill him.”
Scott can see Matt’s gun pointed directly at Stiles.
“Matt,” Stiles pleads, “don’t do this.”
“What makes your life better than the four I’ve already taken today?” Matt is still standing in the way of the door closing. “You of all people deserve this. You think your snarky little shitty humor is funny when in reality Stiles, you’re just a fucking asshole. You make fun of people left and right and everyone brushes it off as you being this funny sarcastic guy, but you’re not. You’re a fucking dick.”
“I know,” Stiles says, holding his hands up in the air. “I know I am and I’m sorry.”
“Matt,” Scott says, stepping forward.
“Don’t move! Don’t fucking move!”
“Okay, I won’t.” Scott also has his hands up. “Matt you can still walk away. You don’t need to kill anyone else.”
“You see the best in everyone, Scott. You really do. Hope that works out for you one day.”
Before Scott can move, he hears two shots ring out.
He looks down at his chest and doesn’t see anything. Looking back up he can see Matt is bleeding out of his chest.
“Suspect is down.” Scott can hear Sheriff Stilinski as he charges down the hallway towards them.
“Scott,” Stiles says. Scott turns to Stiles and can see blood staining his shirt around a bullet wound. “I…” Stiles falls to the floor with a thud and Scott rushes to his side.
“Hey,” Scott says, holding him in his arms. Stiles’ face is ghostly white and Scott can see the bullet hit high on his chest. Scott puts pressure on the wound and smiles down at Stiles. “It’s not bad at all. You’re going to make it, buddy.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Stiles lets out a strangled chuckle. “You suck at lying.”
“I am not that bad,” Scott jokes, applying as much pressure as he can. “Seriously, Stiles, you’re going to be fine. Your dad just got here. There’s an ambulance outside.”
“How do you know?” Stiles coughs and blood pours out of the side of his mouth. “We’ve been in the same room, Scott.”
“I just know.” Scott is trying his best not to break down and cry. He can see the blood is not slowing down and by the looks of it Stiles’ is not in okay shape. Shaking in Scott’s arms, Stiles smirks and makes eye contact with Scott.
“You can cry, Scotty. I know it’s bad.”
“No!” Scott can feel tears falling from the tip of his nose. “You are going to be fine, Stiles. Do you hear me?! Just keep breathing.”
“Stiles?” Sheriff Stilinski comes rushing in and Scott makes room for him to kneel next to his son. “Hey, son. That’s gonna be a pretty awesome scar to tell people about one day.”
“Dad,” Stiles’ breathing is hitched. “Don’t. It’s fine.”
“That’s right,” he says, running his hands through Stiles’ hair. “You’re gonna be fine.”
“Stiles,” Allison says, crouching down and wincing in pain. “If I got stabbed, shot at and almost killed multiple times today, you better fucking make it. Who am I going to ask for help when I’m trying to get Scott gifts? And who is going to help me with writing satire for our senior term paper? You don’t get to die today, okay?” Allison starts to cry. “Not after everything else. We can’t lose you too.”
Paramedics rush into the classroom and make everyone step aside as they kneel around Stiles. Scott has his hands together and he is praying for a miracle. He watches as the paramedics load Stiles onto a stretcher and hook an IV into his arm.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” one paramedic says. “We need to get him out of here right now.”
Scott is forced to watch as his best friend is taken out of the room and not know if he is going to live or die.
“Everyone,” Deputy Parrish says. “We need everyone to exit the classroom so the paramedics can get the bodies and you all can be brought out to safety.”
Scott takes Allison’s hand and they walk together in silence, neither of them uttering a single word. Scott feels like he isn’t even there. Everything feels like a dream and in any minute he is going to wake up and Stiles will be sleeping on his bedroom floor, mouth half open while he drools. But as reality sets in and he turns around and sees the coroner walking towards the room and sees Lydia’s legs half out next to Matt’s lifeless body, he knows this is something they will never recover from.
All that matter as that moment is getting to the hospital and knowing if Stiles is alive. All that’s keeping Scott going is the hope that his best friend will live through this hell.
[3 months later]
Scott walks out of Ms. Morrell’s office and he does not feel any better. He still wishes he had done more, still wishes he could have saved everyone’s life, even if he knows it would not have been possible.
“Did it help?” Allison asks, sitting outside of the counselor's office.
“I’d be lying if I said yes.” Scott says.
“And we all know you suck at that.” Stiles says, walking around the corner into the waiting room.
“Shut-up,” Scott says, smirking. “How you feeling today?”
“The night terrors have slowed down and my blood is pumping so well that I will most likely never need viagra in my life.”
Scott puts his arm around Allison and Stiles and the three of them walk out into the school together.
“We should have transferred.” Stiles says, turning to look at Scott and Allison.
“No,” Allison says, “Lydia was the top student at this school. We owe it to her to graduate and do well.”
“Yeah,” Scott says, his eyes burning from not wanting to cry. “You think we will ever be okay?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Allison admits, squeezing Scott’s shoulder.
“One day at a time, Scotty. That’s what we have to do. One day at a time.”