Chapter 5

"Melissa!" I touched a hand to my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. "Make some noise when you walk! Geez…"

She smiled widely. "Jumpy, are we?"

"I guess," I defensively pouted, still in a foul mood thanks to that latest phone call. "Listen, I need to find someone." I said, and Melissa's face was immediately clouded with hesitation. "He's a patient here. Sean Walcott."

Her mouth twisted unhappily. "I would say no," She starts, which is all I need to hear to know she'll help me. "But I'm already on my way to him, so it's your lucky day." I happily skip to stand next to her.

"Excellent," I chirp, extending my arm dramatically. "After you…"

"The sheriff needs to talk to him," She explains as she begins to lead me towards the elevator. "I've held him off as long as I can, but I can't keep him at bay forever—you know that…"

My mind flashed back to all the times she had done similar things for me. I smiled gently. "I'm sure he appreciates it."

"Well, I'm not sure he appreciates much of anything at the moment. Do you know what happened to him?" She pushes the button for his floor and I take a deep breath.

"I heard."

Sympathy fills her eyes to the brim, and it's clear to me where Scott gets those expressive eyes from. "Think you could try to talk to him? Maybe he'll listen to someone his own age, especially a beautiful young lady."

I smile wryly. "What you're actually saying is, 'Especially someone who's been there.'"

Melissa's mouth popped open and she looked away, but she apparently couldn't find the words. Busted.

"It's okay," I wave her off and shrug. "I mean, I can't remember anything. I can't even remember my family, but you've done so much for me… I'll do what I can."

Her eyes were clouded with a mixture of emotions as she looked at me. "You still can't remember?" She gently asked, and I looked down at my feet without saying anything. "….Just because you can't remember them, doesn't mean you didn't lose them."

My lips pulled into a dry line. "Well. Maybe that's true…"

The elevator doors opened, and Melissa stepped off first. "Simone, I wanted to say… I'm glad you're doing so well." I looked at her from the corner of my eye. "And you are. Doing okay, I mean. You've lost so much," She paused, and put a warm hand on my shoulder so she could smile at me. "But I think you're the strongest person I know. You still find the strength to smile, and to joke. To be a friend. And I just…" She shakes her head and looks down. "I really admire your courage."

I could feel myself getting emotional, so I took a deep breath that broke the moment, a smile tugging at my lips. "Melissa, you're strong, too." I say with a laugh, "You've got a kid who shifts into a werewolf once a month and fights supernatural creatures on the weekends."

"And sometimes the week days." She adds with her own laugh, and I nod my head.

"You're definitely selling yourself short," I add, patting her hand. "And we all appreciate everything you do for us… Scott more so than anyone else."

I don't say it outright, and I don't know if she catches it, but I'm referencing their money troubles. I overheard Scott saying it to Stiles this morning. (At practice, not tryouts) Even though she might not know that I know, she's not stupid. But I wouldn't make her uncomfortable and bluntly say something like that, and I know she needed to hear it.

She smiles and nods at me, though something about the way she did it suggested maybe her heart wasn't in it, before she turned to walk the rest of the way to Sean Walcott's room.

I hung back as she opened the door and poked her head in, her clipboard in her hand still. "Sean… are you awake? The sheriff's on his way; I'm gonna need you to wake up." She said, flipping the light switch on as she looked to his bed.

She froze, and I could immediately sense something was off. My hand flashed out as I pushed the door the rest of the way open and found his bed to be empty. Melissa and I looked down at the floor at the same time, where a large pool of blood was smeared into the waxed tile floors, the body of a police officer stuck in the middle of it—and a guy around the same age as me kneeled over his body.

He had blood smeared all down his face, his neck, and onto the white fabric of his t-shirt on his chest. His hands and forearms were coated with the red substance, and he cradled what I had the unfortunate experience of identifying as a mound of human flesh, which he used the numerous rows of razor sharp teeth to dig into.

He lowered his hands and dropped the bloody flesh to the ground with a plop, slowly starting to stand, and I tugged Melissa behind me. His eyes flashed a glowing white, and it was in that moment that I was able to identify what the hell he was, exactly.

The family bestiary called him a wendigo… But I think I'm gonna cut to the chase and just call him the dark lord of the underworld.

"Holy shit," I breathed, quickly tugging the sleeve of my sweater down to reveal a sheath that contained four long, skinny black spikes. "What circle of hell did you rise from," I muttered, pushing Melissa back into the hall as I twirled a spike in the palm of my hand.

"I think I'm ready to have that talk now," He creepily said to Melissa, growing slowly to his feet.

"Hell no!" I managed, slamming the door shut behind me as I pushed Melissa down the hall first. "Go, go, go!"

The door was quickly thrown open, and Sean let out a bone-chilling roar of anger before he barreled out of his room. My arm cocked back, and I threw the spike as hard as I could, aiming for his heart. He dove to the side and crashed into the wall just as the elevator doors pinged open behind us, so the spike landed somewhere closer to his lung. I pumped my fist in gruesome triumph as the spike lodged itself deep into his chest. I didn't know if it would do much else other than literally serve to be a thorn in his side, (hopefully puncture a lung, if we're lucky… but he might heal just as fast as a werewolf, so… how much good would that really do) but the fact that I managed to hit him was gratifying enough.

Scott's unmistakable lionesque roar shook the walls and the windows, and it occurred to me that if the entire hospital didn't know a supernatural creature was inside, they better know now. Pretty sure the comatose patients probably just wet the bed.

It's amazing to me that the doctors on staff hadn't quit yet. I mean, as many times as werewolves—and now a wendigo—have destroyed their rooms and killed anything that moved, what sane person would say to themselves: Hey. You know what? Yes, my coworker had her throat ripped out by an alpha werewolf who's got a thirst for revenge, who everyone thought was a nonresponsive burn victim. But hey! The benefits are great! I think I'll stay, and play the odds.

Seriously. What do they even do when they hear crap like this going on? How do those conversations go? I would love to be a fly on the wall for that… For every supernatural creature in Beacon Hills, there are fifteen oblivious idiots. Our school has to keep making repairs because we've torn so much of it to shreds. And yet, they just keep rebuilding, scratching their heads and shrugging their shoulders—like, oops! Not again! Oh well!—I mean, do we even have cameras in the school?

Between that and the aforementioned supernaturally attractive men crawling all over the place, it's a wonder anyone gets anything done around here.

But I digress. As I was saying before, Scott swooped in to save the day. My spike didn't do much. It slowed him down, maybe pissed him off a little, but as the bestiary states—there's no known way to kill a wendigo. It's pretty much all he-said-she-said, that book, and when it comes down to it, it doesn't help a whole lot. If anything it just raises more questions. At least, that's my experience.

So, okay, the book says a wendigo is strong enough not only to fight with an alpha werewolf, but possibly to also win such a fight. Okay. Well, it also says it's impossible to kill an Oni, and we all know that isn't true…

Suffice it to say that while I have been having this inner monologue, Scott engaged in a super-cool fight scene, one which no one won, because the wendigo did this really crazy clicky growl with his mouth and then—it happened so fast that I don't know... maybe he pushed him? I can't be sure, but Scott sailed off of the wendigo and crashed into the wall behind them, giving the wendigo a chance to escape.

Scott turned to where I was still standing protectively in front of Melissa.

"I'm okay!" She shouted at him, and Scott's red eyes flashed through the hallway with worry.

"Are you sure?" He asks, hesitating between chasing that son of a bitch down, and checking on his mom. I place a hand on her upper arm and wave Scott off.

"I've got her!" I reassure him. "I'll get her to safety, you can trust me! Go!"

And without another word needing to be said, Scott disappeared down the hall.

I turned to Melissa and endured her gushing over me, thanking me profusely and proclaiming a lot of praise over the Argent family.

"Seriously, what is it with you guys?" She asks, as I lead her behind the nurse's station and tell her to sit. "You're all so capable—and I have no idea what I'm doing, ever, especially when it comes to the supernatural," I grab a box of tissues and hand them to her. She frowns because she doesn't need them, but I mostly just wanted to feel like I was doing something, so that's why I handed those to her. "You guys just dive right in and save the day. You protect people. Allison was the same way, and so is Chris, and your mom—I mean—" she broke off, her eyes wide when she realized her mistake. Her hand came up to clamp over her mouth. "Your aunt…" She said quietly.

I was struck with a torrent of conflicting emotions. Victoria was hard for me to pin down. She was kind of scary, to be honest, and very intense. One thing's for sure, all the most badass traits that Allison had came from Victoria. For a while I wasn't sure if she liked me at all, but we bonded near the end, and I can't deny that I loved her very much, and miss her every day. Her death was especially tragic.

I smile weakly. "You're in shock." I said to Melissa, and she nodded mechanically at me, dropping her hand from her mouth.

"I think I just saw my patient eating the liver out of a cop." She blinked up at me and I pressed my lips together.

"Really? I thought it was the pancreas…" I mused, using humor as my go-to response, and she flinched slightly, her face paling quickly. I couldn't hold back a laugh as I touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry," I grinned. "I've got a pretty sick sense of humor. You've got to if you want to stay sane when you're living my life. Anyways… can I get you anything? What do you get for people in shock? Blankets," I suddenly gasp, rocketing to my feet. "And chocolate!"

I read once that sugar is good for people in shock. It keeps their blood glucose at a safe level, and it's also usually recommended to get them something with salt, because their body might be sweating a lot due to their adrenaline. And worrying.

Melissa shakes her head, and her hand grips my ankle before I can so much as step away. I look down at her. "To be honest with you, the whole time I've been talking to you since Scott left, all I can think about is whether or not he's gonna be okay." Her voice was uncharacteristically vulnerable. "I just need to know he's okay."

I felt myself soften, my shoulders sagging slightly. "…Alright." I said quietly. "I'll go. You stay here, okay? Stay." I point down at her as I quickly hop backwards, and she lets go of my ankle and nods.

"I'll get help."

"What?" I ask, nearly falling over with the speed I have to use to poke my head back around the corner. "No! We are the help! You stay. Stay!"

"I'll stay," She says, still gesturing to the spot she's sitting in. I narrow my eyes skeptically. "I'll stay and get help."

"Oh, my god," I groan, twisting my fingers into my hair. "Are you drunk? Because you sound drunk. Maybe I need to get you that chocolate—oh! I know! Stay here, I'll be right back with some chocolate," I cried, thinking of the Snickers I gave Liam. Snickers have both sugar and salt (peanuts and caramel) "Then I'll go to Scott!"

Melissa nodded up at me and I was already backing away. "I'll be back! Stay!"

She points down to the ground, but then I can't see her anymore, and I vaguely hear her say something about getting help.

I hope she stays.

Liam's hall is empty, which is unsettling. There's also blood smeared on the ground, and a picture's been knocked off the wall, which terrifies me, and I scramble to his room—where the door is open and the room is empty.

The stuffed dog I gave him is still tangled in the blankets. I run to grab it and clutch it close to my chest, my mind racing.

Where could they be? Where could they be?

It's a really big hospital. They could be anywhere. I go to the hallway and decide the stairwell would be the best thing to start with, and the door is heavy under my hands as I push it open.

It's very surreal, the intense worry that I feel for Liam. Honestly, he's been through a lot today—he doesn't need to be mixed up in all this supernatural crap, to boot. We just discovered he was human, and I really like that about him. If he dies, I just might go crazy, because I can't handle losing another person.

I'm turning back and forth, frantically glancing between the stairs leading up, and the stairs leading down, trying to decide which way to go, when I hear it.

A scream. It's loud, and it's distinctly human. I'm already halfway up the stairs when I hear the door I just popped out of opening, and I catch a glimpse of a bald head attached to a huge body all clad in black.

I ignore that fact as I burst onto the roof, the wind immediately tearing at my hair. It's night out, when did that happen? But I push that shocker to the back of my mind as I focus on the scene in front of me and struggle to make sense of it.

Sean is on someone's back, making that crazy clicking growl noise—similar to that of a rattlesnake's—and a glimpse of a blue jean jacket tells me that he's clawing at Scott's back. Okay, so they're on the edge of the roof, Scott is half hanging over the side, and Sean is trying to pull him up? Is he saving him?

I hear a distressed grunt, frantic, panicked, human—no. Okay. My mind is reeling to reassess the situation.

Liam is—Liam is dangling off the side of the roof, Scott is trying to help him up—and this fucker is trying to pull Scott away!

Hell no!

One hand still gripping the toy dog, I drop a spike into my palm, and I don't hesitate to send it sailing into Sean's back. He screams out in pain, his hand still locked around Scott's forearms, and he arches his back and pulls up. This means he pulls Scott up, which means Scott drops Liam. I can see Liam's fingers as he struggles to hold onto the edge, and I hear his panicked voice as he tells Scott that he can't hold on, and I'm halfway across the roof now.

I reach them just in time to see Liam's fingers disappear over the edge—and I scream his name, and that's when Scott's head bobs down and he latches onto Liam's wrist with his fangs, and I'm tugging at Sean's back.

About a million thoughts are flying through my head… first, relief, because Scott's desperate move actually works and saves Liam. Then, shock, because Scott's an alpha who just bit Liam, and third, Sean is trying to buck me off, but I've got him in a chokehold. (I'm really good at chokeholds. Chris taught me how to do them) I plant my feet on the ground and jerk him up as hard as I can, and I feel a bone in his neck pop, and he lets go of Scott, but then the door of the roof bursts open.

Sean has lost his grip on Scott, and I move on instinct. The unmistakable sound of a blade whistling through the air reaches my ears, and I've whirled on my heels to poke Sean's chest out so that he catches the axe arcing towards us.

He collapses and I go down with him, my arm still trapped under one of his shoulders. I feel a gross sensation of déjà vu that I can't explain when I frantically tug my arm from under his dead body and some of his blood spurts onto me as the bald man from the stairwell tugs his pickaxe out from Sean's chest.

Scott is gawking at the newcomer, and I glance behind him and sag slightly in relief when I see Liam writhing safely on the roof behind him. It's a shortlived victory, because the man is already disappearing behind a structure on the roof, and I finally notice he's got no mouth.

Literally. His mouth, where it should be, is simply a patch of skin. It looks like he's got one giant chin. It looks like his chin swallowed his mouth, and I can't keep myself from gasping as he (ironically) raises a single finger to where his mouth should've been, his black eyes fixed on Scott.

What the hell? He disappears behind the corner, and I look up at Scott in shock.

"Please tell me you saw that, too," I panted, and Scott's wide red eyes blinked back at me as he slowly manages to nod. I nod back and him, and we take a moment to catch our breath.

We're interrupted when Liam's grunts of pain reach our ears. Scott takes my hand and helps me to sit up, and Liam's face is a contorted mixture of panic, confusion, and fear as he pants and gawks at Scott's werewolf face. I looked up to see what he was seeing.

Scott looks scared. He looks panicked, and he's definitely just as much at a loss for words as I am. His nose looks swollen, stuck halfway between a snout and a real nose. He's got hair in all the places that a cheesy black-and-white film werewolf would, except it seems well kept and neater, somehow. And his ears protrude from the side of his head, pointed at the ends, and they're hairy, too.

But most notably of all, he's got these canines protruding from his mouth. More so than your typical run of the mill werewolf and it's definitely unsettling. To me, it's not terrifying, but hey… even before Scott was my friend, he was my business—he was my enemy. Or so my family would have me believe. And given what allegedly happened that fateful night so many summers ago, they should be my natural enemy.

The only reason I'm not terrified of them, the only reason I'm not vindictive is because I can't remember that night at all. All I know are the stories I've heard, and the person who told me those stories first was Allison. And she doesn't hate werewolves, so, in turn—neither do I. She explained it way differently than Kate, or Chris, or even Gerard did, and I shudder to think how differently I could've turned out if Kate or Gerard had gotten to me first on the matter.

Still, I know Liam is scared and he's confused—and he's in pain because his ankle is still broken, and his wrist probably burns like a mother, and he doesn't understand an ounce of what just happened…

And he's looking at me now. He looks like he feels betrayed, somehow, and it tears at my heart.

"Liam," I try, and I have to raise my voice a bit due to the wind.

"What—" He stutters, "What happened to honesty, Simone?" His voice is raw, and it breaks slightly. "What happened to never lying to me?"

Scott looks between us in unmasked shock. He's confused because he missed out on that particular conversation, and as far as he knows, Liam and I have barely spoken. But, well… that's not exactly true.

"I'll tell you everything," I stepped over Sean's body, and Liam's wide eyes get stuck there. He can't seem to look away from Sean as I slowly approach him, and I do regret that. Probably, I shouldn't have stepped over a dead body when I'm trying to convince someone to trust me. Especially not someone like Liam… "But first, we have to get you off the roof."