Dilapidated 《Teen Wolf》

Epilogue

Epilogue

April

Stiles absently held his bottom lip between his teeth, his fingers typing out the entirety of the French Revolution. His hair was messily sticking up and his eyes glanced over to the framed photo on his desk constantly.

A loud engine rumbled up outside of the house. Stiles guessed it was Scott's dirt bike and didn't stop typing. He was already laking time to get his essay done.

A knock hit the front door, making Stiles' eyebrows draw together.

Getting up from his chair, Stiles padded down the hallway and staircase in bare feet. Swinging open the front door, he looked out on two unfamilar figures. "Can I help you?" They became vaguely recognizable but he didn't know what from.

"Hey, yeah we're looking for Addison." The shorter of the two said, checking a piece of paper with purple ink. "Stilinski. She lives here, right?"

Stiles narrowed his eyes with a flare in them, "She used to." He knew who they were now. "She's dead."

Sam and Dean Winchester.

If he remembered correctly, it was Sam who laughed. "That's funny, but serious-"

"You think I would joke about something like that?" Stiles snapped, "She was murdered in October - six months ago."

Dean shook his head, squinting a little. "That's not possible." He motioned between himself and his brother. "We saw her in December. We went hunting with her."

Stiles stood still for a moment, seeing the Winchesters didn't have an ounce of joking on them. "Prove it."

Dean patted his jacket pockets before reaching into the left side. Holding out the polaroid, he ignored Sam's look.

Sam just didn't mention he had one of the polaroids on him too.

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes starting to water as he took the square picture. 

On the bottom, it was neatly dated for December 30th in Addi's handwriting. Addison was in the Impala with Dean, her hair longer and her green eyes bright. With her nose crinkled in laughter, it was undeniably his sister.

Stiles shook his eyes, seeing the locket on her neck rested between unharmed collarbones. Suddenly, he doubted the Winchesters. "That's not possible." He gave the photo back to Dean. "She gave me her necklace the night she died. I have it."

Because she knew she was going to die.

Sam pushed his mouth to the side in thought. "Are you sure?"

"I gave that to her last fall. She doesn't go anywhere without it." Dean said, the stories not lining up. "She had it the whole time we were in LA."

Stiles turned around quickly, practically running up to his room. Going directly to his dresser, he opened the top drawer with frantic hands. Scouring the drawer, his fingers didn't touch any metal.

Stiles' head shot up to meet Sam and Dean in this doorway.

"Well?" Dean asked, his eyes flicking around the room.

Stiles was horrified at his own words. "It's not here."