Nothing will ever be the same. "Stiles." His voice was soft as he called out to his friend, but it was like Stiles didn't hear him and Scott winced as he watched Stiles willingly slice his hand. He held onto Allison a little tighter, he knew one grave would be for her, but shouldn't her father see her? He deserved that and Scott was so confused as he stood there, watching this all happen as if it was supposed to and from the look in Lydia's eyes, it was. All of it, but Scott still shook his head. He wasn't doing that. He wasn't giving into whatever was taking Lydia over. It was like something was holding him back. He didn't want to let go, but he knew he had to. This was something he was supposed to do.
He walked slowly past Stiles and laid Allison down in the grave. Her eyes were closed, it was like she was sleeping and he touched her face and reached down, holding onto her fingers, the way she would hold onto his when she would pull him along, but she wasn't taking him anywhere now. She was dead. Glancing up, he saw Lydia standing there, not saying a word, not moving a muscle, but she had a look on her face that gave him a sense of urgency and he got up and there was Stiles. The knife.
Scott took it, looking it over and just saw a nod from Stiles. An okay. This was what was supposed to happen and Scott's eyes were on his hand as he sliced it open and it should have hurt, it should have stung, but it didn't. Next to Allison, Stiles moved toward his grave and before he got in, he looked back at Scott and Scott shook his head, "Stiles, man ..." But there was really nothing left to say. Nothing because Stiles got in and now Lydia was covering him up. He took a step toward, but stopped when Lydia turned back, her eyes were like so not there, vacant and Scott stood there, making a choice. Was this supposed to get Allison back? What was even happening?
Scott moved toward his and got in. He stared up at the sky. He thought about the things he was leaving behind, not realizing that everything he really did know was about to change. Lydia was right, but Scott was so naive still. So young even if he was older. Everything that was bright was slowly fading and laid there, cold and almost distant even as his best friend, his brother was suffocating.
He could hear the heavy breaths, the panic - he felt it and he should be helping him. Pulling him out. Telling him that it was going to be okay, but he didn't. Closing his eyes, he tried to drown it out and as the dirt and twigs started to cover his body, the last thing he heard was nothing. Nothing at all. His friend was dead, his girlfriend was dead and the same was about to happen to him.