As Stiles rounds the corner on a street in the Grey Ward he comes to a halt a few feet away, whiskey-brown eyes widening in surprise at the figure in front of him, breath stolen from his lungs and a chest that aches at the sight.

What... how?

It has to be an illusion, he thinks to himself, clenching his eyes shut and shaking his head. There's no way... here? But when he opens his eyes she's still there in front of him.

Allison Argent.

He has half a mind to turn and walk away- run away- get as far away as he can. But he also knows he can't- that he won't. Because it's Allison. And then it makes him wonder which version of Allison this is. Before- when her and Scott were still together, when she fought by their side. Or after- when the Oni ran her through with a sword that would then be meant for him.

Is this where she came when she died? When he killed her? Yes, he knows he didn't physically kill her, but he let the thing in that did, so it's just as much his fault as it is that demon's. Would she hate him? Want revenge? Would she want to take her anger out on him? He'd let her, he thinks. It's the least he deserves.

The name slips off his lips before he can even think better of it, quiet and a little shakey but able to be heard just the same.

"...Allison?"