picture_prompt_fun | Advent Calendar - Day 17

Title: And Time Keeps Dragging On
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Character: Chris Argent, Isaac Lahey, Allison Argent
Length: 795
Rating: G
Warnings: referenced canonical character death
Summary: even from beyond the grave, Allison has some advice for her father.

He’s not even sure how it happens – how the days slip by, blending into the next, and eventually turning November into December. Chris doesn’t even notice at first. Despite the stoic expression, grief consumes him in that time. There are stories to straighten, a funeral to plan, many bottles of scotch to empty, and business to attend to. So the clock ticks on, the days count by, and soon enough its almost Christmas time. He’s pretty sure the holiday would pass him by if it weren’t for Isaac.

Or, more specifically, the bundle of colorful envelopes Isaac presents to him.

Chris takes them with an owlish expression, confused by what he’s been handed. He turns them over and his heart stops in his chest. He recognizes the neat cursive instantly. It’s his daughter’s hand-writing. It’s Allison’s.

“I found these under her desk,” Isaac mumbles. Chris looks up at him, blinking at the nervous boy. “I didn’t mean to snoop but I—”

“I know,” Chris says, cutting him off and holding his gaze. “It’s okay.”

He knows it’s odd – all of it. Odd that he lets Isaac stay, doesn’t tell him to go back to Melissa’s, and even odder that he lets the boy sleep in Allison’s bed. But he’s known wolves long enough to not question certain things and he’s known grief even longer. He won’t kick Isaac out of her bed or out of this house. He doesn’t have the heart.

Breaking their eye contact, he refocuses on the envelopes. He slowly flips through them, reading the backs of each. One for each of her friends. One for him too. His fingers hesitate over that one.

“They’re Christmas cards,” Isaac explains. “She wrote them for everyone before… Before Oak Creek. It was in case something happened.”

And something did happen, goes unsaid.

He knows Allison prepared for that night but the ache in his chest that’s been there since she died spikes sharply. His little girl was brave. She cared about her friends more than anything. She was willing to sacrifice everything for them and she did. And even then, she had the frame of mind to write them Christmas cards.

Saving his own, he sets the others on the table. He can feel the weight of Isaac’s gaze but he ignores it as he carefully opens the envelope, mindful of its fragility. The card is simple – white with loopy red lettering. Have a very MERRY CHRISTMAS, it reads. Opening it, he fights back tears as his eyes skim over the personalized letter. It’s not like he expected this to be easy but it still pains him. This is for Allison though. She wrote this for him so he’ll read it.

Dad,

There’s only one thing I have to say: I love you.

But I also want you to know that I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you as my father and I’m proud of you as a hunter. I could never imagine having a better dad than you. Even when things weren’t perfect, even when we fought, even when I said I hated you because you grounded me for skipping school with Scott, I loved you. You kissed my bruises when I was a kid. You always pushed me on even when I wanted to give up. You made me who I am and I am so grateful for that.

This isn’t easy to write and I hope you never read it. I hope, when all this is said and done, I can burn these letters and get new ones for everyone. But I wanted to make sure, in case something does happen tonight, that I get to say goodbye – to you and to everyone.

I’m sure you’ve already seen them but I wrote letters for everyone else. Please make sure they get them. And please take care of yourself. Please keep living even if I’m not there.

Your daughter,
Ally.

Chris’ eyes sting. He wipes his nose and sets the card on his thigh. He looks up at Isaac who’s staring down at his feet. He tells himself to focus on something – on anything – else. He doesn’t need to cry. He’s not that sort of man. But he is the sort of man to grant a last request.

He glances down at the stack of letters. Leaning forward, he picks them up, cycling through them and noting the names of the people she wrote to. He knows all of them – and tracking them down to give them theirs would be easy – but that’s not what he’s going to do. Allison said to keep living and living means more than going through the motions.

“Isaac,” he starts, instantly drawing the boy’s attention. “What do you think of hosting a Christmas party?”