The Argent and A Hale-Allison Argent (2)

3.2.2

Derek and I walk into a classroom. We find Scott, Stiles, Allison and Lydia all waiting for us. "Look at this." Scott tells Derek. I walk over to the desks and take a seat next to Stiles. Allison and Lydia both stand beside each other as Derek stands in front of them. They hold their wrists in front of them as Scott stands beside Derek, waiting for his opinion.

I notice marks on their wrists that seem to line up and make a pattern. My mind wanders back to the other day when the woman that saved Isaac and I had grabbed their wrists. "I don't see anything." Derek sighs. I swear I've seen that before. Somewhere. It looked so familiar. "Look again." Scott tells him. "How is a bruise gonna tell me where Boyd and Erica are?" Derek asks. An image suddenly pops into my head. It wasn't just Boyd, Erica and I. Someone else was in there too. But I couldn't quite remember that part.

"It's the same on both sides. Exactly the same." Scott tries to tell him. "It's nothing" Derek says, having a stare off with Allison. I look between the two with a frown. How was I supposed to try to win her back if her and my brother hated each other? "Pareidolia. Seeing patterns that aren't there." Lydia nods. We all give each other confused looks. "It's a subset of apophenia." Lydia says. Derek turns to Scott. "They're trying to help." Scott points out.

"These two? This one, who used me and Madi to resurrect our psychotic uncle. Thank you." He says pointing at Lydia. "And this one, who shot about 30 arrows into me and my pack." Derek says turning to Allison. They start to have another stare off as my mind wanders back to the bruises. There was no way it was nothing important if I remember seeing it. Not to mention I was one of the ones kidnapped. It had to be important.

"Okay, all right, now, come on. No one died, all right? Look, there may have been a little maiming, okay, a little mangling, but no death. That's what I call an important distinction." Stiles says as Derek gives him a look. "My mother died" Allison says, giving Derek a look. "Not to mention, all of Matt's victims, Matt himself, Jackson, hopefully Gerard" I start saying but receive glares from both Derek and Allison. "Right, sorry." I nod, looking at the ground, getting the clue.

"Your family's little honor code killed your mother. Not me" Derek tells Allison. "That girl was looking for Scott. I'm here to help him, not you." Allison informs him. That pattern. It was like...a symbol! I remember seeing it on some floor. "You wanna help? Find something real." Derek says as I gasp. Everyone looks over at me. I quickly stand up.

"It's not a pattern. It's a symbol. I've seen it. On some type of floor or something" I say looking it over. My mind wanders back as I try to think of it. "Where?" Derek asks. I try to think hard. "I-I don't know." I admit. Derek sighs in frustration. "Of course you don't. They took your memories remember?" Derek snaps. I give him a look. "And you think I could help that?" I ask in disbelief. "Maybe if you hadn't gotten kidnapped-" "Oh, so you think it was my fault I got kidnapped?" I ask him, anger laced in my voice.

"Yes" He tells me. "And what reason would that be?" I ask. "You used to date one of them" He tells me as everyone looks at me with wide eyes. My face hardens. He knew I didn't like to talk about it. "If you hadn't dated or met any of them, they wouldn't have gone after you or my betas" He tells me. "So just because I dated them, I suddenly get the whole blame. I don't make their choices, Derek, okay? Your pack was kidnapped. They're not my pack, they're yours." I tell him.

"Along with you" He points out. "Probably because I'm your sister." I shrug. "Or because you dated one of them" He retorts. I shake my head at him. "Just because you're mad about your pack being kidnapped doesn't mean you can start taking your anger out on me. If that's how you really feel then you know what? I wish you found me dead" I tell him. He gives me a look. "Madi-" "I don't want to hear it." I tell him walking towards the door. I leave the room, slamming the door on my way out. What an asshole.