Memory is a fickle thing.
Memories can be of real life events or dreams, lies or truths. Sitting alone in my dark mind, it was hard to define the thick, blurry lines. Memories were flashing through my mind so fast I couldn't keep up to figure out when they happened, if they had even happened. If I had been awake, it probably would have made me dizzy. But I wasn't awake, or at least I didn't think I was. Stiles wasn't around. Neither were Scott and my dad.
Scott…I remembered he was the last person I had seen before I got to this dark, empty room. There was nothing in here but white marble floors and a single chair in which I inhabited. I sat in the cold, hard chair, trying to sort through my memories of the night that had led up to this point. Only bits of pieces flickered in front of my eyes.
I watched myself kiss Stiles. I smiled teary-eyed, reaching out towards his adorable face. It vanished as my hand grasped it. It was replaced with Stiles being chased by the Alpha. He snatched Stiles up and began to rip his body to shreds.
"Stiles!" I screamed, "NO, STILES! Stiles, wake up!" I was gasping for breath, falling to my knees at Stiles' head.
He was staring up at me with cold, dead eyes. I heard screaming from above. I glanced up and let out a scream of my own. We were in front of Derek's house. It was on fire just like the night I lost my mom.
I just stared at the burning building, helplessly taking in my moms cries for help. I pulled Stiles' lifeless body into my arms, cradling it as I tried to block out the terrorizing screams.
"Stiles," I sobbed, rocking him back and forth, pushing back his short bangs to look into his once lively brown eyes. He would never crinkle his cute little nose when he laughed at my sarcastic remarks. He would never gaze lovingly into my eyes, making my heart break even more. "Stiles, no…"
"Mason, save me!" The eerie muffled voice of my mother called out into the night.
"Stiles, please come back," I nuzzled my face into his still-warm body. "I love you—Stiles, come back…" He would never say those three words to me again. He would never see how much I really loved him. I hadn't spent a day without seeing Stiles since I could remember and I couldn't imagine living without him.
I let his body fall from my arms as I stood up with difficulty. My eyes were glazed over as I looked up into the red hot inferno. I swallowed, taking a deep breath before I strode forward into the burning building.
"Mom?" I croaked. I couldn't save Stiles but maybe I could save my mother. "I'm here, mom! Where are you?"
"Upstairs! Hurry, sweetheart!" She screamed, her voice withering away. I set off for the stairs. A little boy was dragging my six year-old self.
"Mommy!" I heard myself scream as a ten-year-old Derek dragged me to the door, "Let go! My mommy's up there!"
I stepped out of the way as Derek dragged my little body at the door, a look of sheer terror and confusion on his face. It was a weird out of body experience.
I trudged up the burning stairs. I was careful not to touch the falling pieces of ember on the steps and banisters. I could hear the fire crackling away at the walls and floors. The wallpaper was peeling away, leaving blackened bits scattered on the floor. I stepped over a gap in the floor eaten away by the hungry flames.
I wasn't sure where I was going but I just kept following my mother's pleas for my help.
"I'm coming, mom," I kept saying, over and over again. It seemed to take hours to finally reach my final destination.
"Hurry, sweetheart! I'm in so much pain!" My mother's voice shrieked. I rounded a corner; rubble was falling all around me. Yet, it was all miraculously missing me. Her voice echoed from a room that's door was covered in flames. They flickered about, licking up and down the frame, making entry impossible. I walked on slowly, anyway. Nothing was going to stop me from saving my mother.
The embers split apart, letting me pass like I was Noah parting the Nile. I grabbed onto the brass handle. Though it didn't burn me, I felt something painfully hit the left side of my neck and shoulder. I swiped my hands over it, pulling it back to reveal blood. A shattered window across the hall showed blood staining my pale dress. There was a gash in the nape of my neck that I hadn't remembered getting. It was as if I had been attacked by some mad animal. But, the only animal I'd seen was the Alpha who had killed Stiles…Oh, God...Stiles...
Grief overcame me again as I thought of his lifeless body lying outside. I glanced out the window to see police lights flickering, causing a sense of déjà vu from another memory.
"Mason!" My attention shot back towards the door. I grasped my hand over the handle and turned it. It swung open abruptly. This room wasn't on fire. It was the dark, cold room I had been in when I started my journey.
"Mom?" My voice echoed, feeling terrified in the blackness of the room. Someone was trembling on the floor, covered in some sort of shawl. Against my better judgment, I tiptoed to the center of the room where the mass sat. It was as if a spotlight had been placed on the person, signaling me that this was where I was supposed to end up all along.
"Is that you, m-mom?" My voice was high with fear. A shaky hand started towards the shawl as if it was attached to some magnetic device. My hand felt the shawl as I took in a deep breath, telling myself that it was just my mom playing a game with me.
Just as I grabbed a good chunk of the shawl, the person under it turned around to reveal two glaring golden eyes.
"S-Scott?" I stuttered in shock, unsure why I was feeling so terrified of my only surviving best friend.
His grin was menacing, like he was messing with me and it was giving him no higher pleasure.
"Hey, Mase. So sorry about your mom." He smirked, his lethal fangs were growing. "She didn't make it."
"W-Wha—Where—Scott, what did you do with my mother?" I demanded, feeling tears building up and crashing down my face.
"Your mother is dead, Mase. Kate took care of that." He chuckled, tossing the shawl away from him.
I shook my head, not wanting to believe him. "You're lying!"
He shook his head in response. "I wouldn't lie to you."
I let out a feeble whimper as he seemed to be targeting me. He brushed back my hair to gaze at the bite on my neck.
"Oh, wait, I would." He barked out a harsh laugh, "I said I'd never hurt you," His finger traced my wound, burning it slightly. I glanced down at it, confused.
"You? You did this?" I gasped, looking back up into Scott's hateful eyes. This wasn't Scott. Scott wouldn't hurt me! I would remember him hurting me like this. I had lots of memories flooding around in my mind but that particular one didn't exist!
"Proudly." His lips brushed against my cheek as he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "I was being a good friend. A best friend. I gave you something that Stiles could never give to you. No matter how much you lust over him, he'll never feel the same. I could give you anything you could possibly desire." His hands glided up my sides seductively. I tried pushing him away but Scott was stronger.
"Stiles does love me!" I whispered urgently. He pushed his body up against mine.
"Stiles doesn't love anyone anymore. We took care of that." He shifted his body sideways to show me that we weren't alone anymore. Peter was standing in the shadows, watching us intently.
"Scott," Peter clucked his tongue in mock disapproval. "She's Derek's."
Scott smirked again, pushing his body off mine, "We were just having a best friend chat. Nothing to see." He put his hands up, feigning surrender.
"That's what I thought." Peter chuckled. I stood there frozen in shock as I watched Scott play buddy-buddy with the Alpha.
"Y-You killed Stiles…" I muttered, wishing I was anywhere but in this room.
"We had to cut all of Scott's ties." He nodded towards a corner that the spotlight was suddenly on, showing four bodies lying in a body mass: Allison, Jackson, Lydia, and Stiles. I clasped a hand over my horrified countenance.
"Mason! Help me!" A deep voice cried hoarsely. My wide, terrified eyes blinked and looked to where the light was pointing now. Derek was shirtless, beaten, and chained up to a wall like some animal.
Peter stared lazily over at Derek's incarcerated form.
"Scott, what are we going to do?" I begged. He glanced over at the Alpha, earning a knowing look as Scott started marching towards me. His diabolical smile terrified me more then anything he'd done tonight.
"It's already been done, Mase. You're one of us now." I could feel his warm breath beating down on my neck. He opened his mouth and clamped his teeth harshly into my wound. I screamed out in pain, pleading Scott to let me go.
"You'll feel better when you wake up," Peter promised, heading out the door, letting flames flicker around his suddenly burned face. "Welcome to the pack, Mason." And with one last unsettling smile, he slammed the door behind him.
I awoke with a start, cold sweat beading down my face as I gasped for breath. A man with graying reddish-blonde hair that was starting to bald glanced over at me, pumping something into my IV. He was wearing a white doctor's jacket that had a name tag I couldn't quite read in my distressed state.
"Welcome back, Miss. Mayfield. You gave us quite a shock." He chuckled warmly. I sat tensed up in the old hospital bed. What was I doing in a hospital? And what the hell was the dream about? Did it really happen?
I ripped off my sheets and tried to get out of bed.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He stopped me. Good thing too because I fell into his arms, feeling faint.
"Stiles…" I murmured, "Is he okay?"
"I'm sure he's fine. I didn't hear about third victim." A third victim? What did that mean?
"You should be worrying about yourself. You barely survived that animal attack." He informed me kindly. I looked up at him in shock.
"Animal attack?" I said in a horrified sort of voice.
He nodded solemnly. "I've already given you your first set of rabies shots. You probably don't have it; it's just a precaution we take with wild animal attacks."
I started hysterically laughing when he mentioned rabies. It seemed like years ago when Scott told Stiles and I that he had been bitten and we pulled his leg about having rabies. In reality, it was only two months since our lives turned to shit with this werewolf business.
The doctor looked at me, his brown eyes full of concern. "Let's take a look at that wound." His hands were placed over a gauze pad. I readied myself for pain that never came. I opened one of my eyes to see the doctor looking dumbfounded.
"Is it infected with rabies?" I whispered in a small voice. He was rubbing his gloved hands over the nape of my neck, his mouth open wide in shock.
"This isn't possible—I was here—the open wound…" He rambled disconcertingly.
"What's wrong?" I didn't like it when doctors looked horrified about wounds.
"Your bite mark…It's gone!" He muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. My hands flew to my neck and there was no blood, no gash, and no bite.
I gulped, knowing full well what that meant.
"Doctor Fenris, please report to the lab. Doctor Fenris, please report to the lab. Your test results are in." A muffled woman's voice rang through the room. He looked up as if he'd never heard someone speak on an intercom before.
"E-Excuse me," He stood up from his chair, looking straight at me, dazed and confused. "I have to check your labs. I'll be back in a few minutes…" He kept his eyes on me as he left hurriedly out the door.
Shit.
AN: Reposting this story after I fixed some inconsistencies.
If you read your alerts and thought there was a new chapter out...well, this is awkward.
New chapters will be posted after I fix these ones!