"Did you get the picture?" Scott's voice asked over the phone. Derek and I were currently sitting in the hospital parking lot, waiting out an officer who had ducked inside. I had wanted to go in anyway, but Derek was adamant than neither of us enter the building until the police were gone. He was a wanted felon, and if he were recognized with me in the hospital, or alone in my car outside, it would cause major problems. At least if we were both in the car outside we could get away. Just as the cruiser had pulled away, my phone went off, alerting me to a picture of Allison's necklace that Scott had obtained from her room.
"Yeah," I replied. "Compared it to the drawing and it looks exactly the same." Derek grabbed my arm roughly, pulling the phone closer to him so he could speak into it without yelling. I glared, hurriedly moving in my seat so my arm wasn't torn off.
"Hey, is there something on the back of it?" he called into the cell. "There's gotta be something. An inscription, an opening, something!" I wrenched my arm away from him, twisting my wrist back and forth.
"Get your own damn phone," I growled, but reluctantly put the phone on speaker, holding it out between the two of us to avoid any future injuries.
"No, no, the thing's flat," Scott informed us. "And no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing."
"So if it's just a family heirloom, that means it's just has to do with the Argents, right?" I asked, looking over at Derek.
"What would the Alpha want Allison's family?" Scott asked with more than a hint of worry.
"They're hunters," I replied with a shrug. "There's gotta be loads of werewolves with vendettas against them, right?" Derek furrowed his brow, taking the thought into consideration, but Scott's frustrated sigh cut off anything he might have said.
"Sadie, where are you?" he hissed, lowering his voice. Assumedly, he wasn't sitting too far from Stiles. "The game's gonna start in a couple minutes, and I don't mean to be pushy but Stiles is freaking out." I sighed, glancing up at the hospital before looking down at my phone sadly.
"Yeah, I know I… We got a little caught up, but I'll be there as soon as I can," I assured him. "Just remind him to take a couple deep breaths, okay? He worked hard for this."
"Do you wanna talk to him?" Scott asked.
"No!" I replied quickly. "Uh, no. I should go, just… Just tell him I'm on my way and I'm gonna be a little late okay?"
"Yeah," Scott sighed. "Yeah, sure."
"Okay. Good luck," I wished, and I could imagine Scott nodding on the bench, hear the chatter of the excited crowd behind him.
"You too, Sadie." Then the line disconnected. Derek and I sat in silence for a few seconds as I tucked the phone back into my pocket and stuffed the car keys into my purse.
"You're not gonna make it," Derek informed me, in a voice much gentler than I was expecting. My heart clenched and I took a deep breath.
"I know," I sighed, closing my eyes and rubbing a hand down my face. "But lacrosse games are pretty long. I just have to get there before it's over so I can congratulate him. He's gonna be on the field. He won't even notice I'm not there."
"Yeah he will," Derek argued, leaning back in his seat. After a moment, he continued, "What about that sign you were supposed to make him?"
"Wow, thank you, Derek," I spat, glaring at him as I smacked the steering wheel sharply. "You get an award for making me feel even more like shit." Derek turned away, looking up at the hospital through the windshield. I sighed, running a hand through my hair and trying to ignore the guilty weight sitting in the bottom of my stomach. "Maybe Lydia will remember to grab it. Bet that'd kick him into high gear." We sat in silence for a few more seconds, not necessarily uncomfortable but certainly heavy.
"You know," Derek started conversationally. "You guys might want to think about learning to control your heart rates. Being around you two is starting to give me a headache."
"Okay, I am not having this conversation with you," I snapped, eyes wide and hands in the air. Derek sighed.
"Look, I know you and Stiles are…"
"Nope!" I cut him off. "I'm going in first. Bye." Before Derek could say another word, I grabbed my purse and slid out of the front seat, jumping out of the car and slamming the door behind me. "Unbelievable," I grumbled under my breath. I stormed up to the building, glancing back and forth in the darkness and wrapping my arms around my torso. I quickly entered through the sliding glass doors, striding through to the waiting room almost on autopilot.
I'd walked through an entire hallway before something suddenly hit me. The hospital was almost completely silent. Not the kind of silent it was supposed to be, like a library or maybe a museum, but an utterly and unsettlingly silent. I looked up and down the hall, finally realizing the problem. The hospital seemed to be deserted. All of the patients' rooms were shut, and if I listened closely I could still hear the beeping and whirring of machines behind them. But there didn't seem to be any one else on the floor, no staff nurses, doctors, secretaries, not even a worried family member there after visiting hours. Empty buildings can be creepy at the best of times, but seeing as this was a hospital, which should never be empty at any time, and I was alone investigating a serial killing werewolf, I was suddenly on high alert. My eyes continued to scan my surroundings, and I slowly crept down the hall as one hand pulled my phone back out of my pocket. Quickly and quietly as I could, I dialed Derek's number.
"So how are you planning to find out if someone else used her account?" he asked, getting straight to business as soon as he answered his phone.
"Well, I was hoping to bullshit my way through an inquisitive conversation with a nurse she was friends with or something," I explained. "But it looks like that's not an option."
"What? Why not?"
"Derek, there's no one here. Literally no one."
"Sadie," Derek sighed, "it's a hospital. There's gotta be someone there."
"Well unless all of the doctors and nurses have suddenly become invisible, everyone is definitely AWOL," I grumbled. I peeked my head around a corner, looking both ways down the abandoned corridor before heading towards the waiting room.
"Does it look like an attack?" he inquired in a tense voice. I shook my head.
"No, there isn't any blood or bodies. Everyone's just…gone…"
"Okay, where are you?" he pressed.
"I'm in the waiting room," I informed him, spinning on the spot in the middle of the empty space. Each of the hallways that met here seemed to be similarly empty.
"Okay, check the second door on the left. That's where they're keeping my uncle. He's got a full time nurse, her name's Jennifer."
"Sure," I replied quietly, before quietly padding over in that direction. I stopped short, however, when I noticed the door was open. Every other door in hallway had been shut except this one. I held my breath, the knot in my stomach tightening steadily. Cautiously, I peeked my head inside the room. There was a standard hospital bed, pink sheets pulled up neat and flat, and a very empty black wheelchair. I hadn't ever seen Derek's uncle, but judging by the second hand story I'd received from Stiles, he was definitely supposed to be occupying that chair, unresponsive and safely locked in his room. "Derek…he's not here," I managed to tell him. I looked all around the room, but there was hardly a sign that it had ever been occupied.
"What?!" Derek demanded.
"He's not here. The room's empty," I repeated, trying to keep myself calm. Okay. It's not like there was only one wheelchair in the hospital. Perhaps he'd been moved to a different room temporarily. Wheeling someone around the hospital could be therapeutic, right? Even if he was in a coma. But I knew that something had to be deeply wrong. I though back to what little information I knew, what Stiles had told me that Scott said Derek told him. Derek's uncle had once been a werewolf, and having a missing, vegetated werewolf on our hands could not be a good sign. Derek confirmed my suspicions barely a moment later.
"Sadie, get out!" he roared over the phone. I jumped slightly at the sudden volume, taking an involuntary step back into the hallway. "Get out of there right now! It's him! He's the Alpha!" I took two more steps back into the hall, eyes still scanning over the room. Finally, my senses caught up to my brain. I turned for the door, and then through a glance over my shoulder down the dark, empty hallway. Only it wasn't empty any more.
I jumped again, a sharp intake of breath giving away my surprise. Standing just a few paces down the hall, leaning casually against the wall, was Derek's uncle. I had never seen him, but recognized him instantly by his half destroyed face. The left side of his head was completely normal, handsome even, but his right… The skin was puckered and pink, rippling and torn from year old burns, a horrible souvenir from the Hale house fire. Besides that, though, he appeared to be in perfect condition. He was tall, maybe just a tad taller than me, and seemed to be standing just fine without his wheelchair. The standard hospital gown was gone, traded for a black shirt with a high collar, a grey button down layered over it, black pants and a long black overcoat. Wavy, brown hair was brushed back, and a pair of clear blue eyes was watching me carefully, calculating my every move. Certainly not the eyes of a six-year coma patient.
"You must be Sadie," he greeted in a calm, soft voice. He smiled at me, and I winced, watching as the one side of his lip pulled up obediently, the burned side merely twitching as the muscles fought to cooperate. My mouth hung open slightly, phone still clenched in my hand. I spun around, preparing to sprint for the exit, but stopped short when I found a strict looking nurse standing in my path, the first nurse I'd seen all night.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice sickly sweet. "Visiting hours are over." She glared at me menacingly, and I stumbled back a few paces. My brain fought to keep up, attempting to process all of the information that was being thrown at me. I was alone in a fairly empty hospital, my only company a werewolf and a psycho nurse. Derek's uncle was apparently not a vegetable, and instead was the incredibly powerful Alpha werewolf who had attacked me and almost killed me on two occasions. I wasn't sure how much of his injury had been faked, but his nurse clearly knew about it. At a guess, she'd been hiding his rapid healing process and followed his instructions to lure Allison to the school with a text from her co-worker's computer. I was trapped in an empty hospital with both of them. And I was still missing the lacrosse game.
"Now, now, Jennifer," Derek's uncle crooned, "Try not to be so intimidating. The poor girl's frightened enough as it is." He looked back to me, smiling in that very disconcerting way. "I've heard a lot about you, Sadie. I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced."
"Peter," I blurted quickly. Derek's uncle raised his one, intact eyebrow. "Peter Hale," I repeated, trying to keep my breathing and heartbeat steady, though it must be obvious how terrified I was. "Brought in with extensive, full body burns after the Hale fire. Your picture was in the paper." Peter's smile widened.
"I see you've done your homework, Miss Bennet. And I admire the way you're attempting to control your heart rate."
"Yup," I replied shakily. "Well, Peter, Jennifer, it's been nice meeting you, but I have a lacrosse game to get to." I turned around to face Jennifer once more, but she took another threatening step towards me.
"You know, it's very impolite to walk away when someone is trying to speak to you," Peter mused, pushing himself off the wall to stand free, his hands clasped in front of him. I turned back to him with a glare.
"I'm pretty sure it's also impolite to chuck someone against a car," I snapped. Peter let out an airy chuckle.
"I am sorry about that. I was trying to be gentle."
"You weren't," I shot firmly. I was shifting on my feet, legs apart and slightly bent as I unconsciously prepared for one of them to pounce at me. Peter noticed my ready stance.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Sadie," he assured me, with a near pitying smile.
"Right," I agreed, not relaxing a single muscle. "You just want Scott to kill me." Peter's smile never faltered.
"I just want to help Scott reach his full potential," he replied calmly, giving me a pointed, calculating look. "That doesn't have to involve killing you. In fact, I'd prefer it didn't." Though I didn't relax, the statement had made me pause. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, watching as Peter's strange grin grew ever wider.
Suddenly, there was a loud thump behind me. I jumped, spinning around to see Derek, glowering past me at his uncle. Jennifer the nurse was crumpled on the ground, blood seeping from her nose where Derek had elbowed her in the face. I glanced between the two werewolves. Even with his accomplice down, and his nephew glowering at him looking downright murderous, Peter seemed entirely unconcerned.
"That's not nice," he commented dryly. "She's my nurse."
"She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people," Derek growled, keeping his eyes on his uncle. "Sadie, get out of the way." I glanced at Peter once more before dashing over to Derek, standing just behind his right shoulder. I eyed the nurse's crumped body warily, but she seemed genuinely down for the count. I didn't have much time to be worried though, because as soon as I was safely behind Derek, Peter had begun to advance on him.
"You think I killed Laura on purpose?" he asked darkly, striding forward with his hands at his sides. "One of my own family?"
Apparently, that was exactly what Derek thought. He pushed me farther behind him, lunging back and letting out a feral growl. Then he leapt forward, jumping up onto the wall to give himself the higher ground. He pushed off, pouncing forward at Peter, who easily took a step back, grabbing his nephew's chest and using his momentum to slam him into the opposite wall. I winced, one hand flying up to my mouth. The breath completely knocked out of him, Derek sagged, letting himself be thrown against another wall like a rag doll with enough to knock the railing off the wall. He winced, collapsing to the floor and covered in dust from the cracked walls. Smoothly, Peter leaned forward, grabbing Derek by the throat and lifting him into the air. He dragged him back down the hall, back towards me, letting his nephew's feet skim the ground as he tried to find his footing.
"My mind, my personality, were literally burned out of me," Peter informed him calmly. I scrambled back as he approached, tripping and pressing myself against a wall. "I was being driven by pure instinct." Derek fell to the ground as his uncle released him, grabbing at his throat as he tried to get his air back into his lungs. Peter sent me a brief smile before bending down to his nurse's unmoving body. He reached into her pocket, pulling out a set of keys and stuffing them in his pocket.
"You want forgiveness?" Derek growled, jumping back to his feet. He swung his right fist, punching Peter square in the face. The Alpha, however, seemed barely affected. He blocked Derek's next attempt to punch him in the throat, instead grabbing him by the front of his jacket and butting his head into his collar. Derek stumbled back, struggling to stay upright.
"I want understanding," Peter corrected him, before lifting his foot and kicking his nephew in the chest. Derek flew back, his back slamming into the ground and flipping over, landing hard on his stomach. He choked out a gasp and my hand flew over my mouth once more. I'd never seen Derek fight, but surely he had to be more powerful than this. He still looked completely normal, not even in wolf-form. And then it occurred to me, as Derek spat a mouthful of blood onto the tile.
"I was impaled through the chest! A wound like that doesn't just heal in a day or two!"
I wasn't completely sure, but perhaps Derek wasn't exactly back up to full power yet. Maybe it was because the wound was caused by an Alpha, which I'd read could be more detrimental. Maybe it was just because he was reluctant to hurt his own family, no matter vicious his uncle had become. Whatever the reason was, Derek was losing the fight, and I didn't see any solution.
"Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years?" Peter hissed. Derek coughed, splaying more blood onto the floor. "Slowly healing, cell by cell. Even more slowly coming back to consciousness." I eyed Derek warily as he tried to push himself up onto his knees. I wanted to help him, but Peter was slowly striding forward, and even if he'd said he didn't want to kill me, I didn't want to risk my chances. "Yes, becoming an Alpha, taking that from Laura, pushed me over a plateau in the healing process," he continued. "I can't help that." Derek sprung up again without warning, swinging for his uncle's face, but Peter simply leaned back. He dodged two punches, blocked two punches, then grabbed Derek's fist and squeezed. Derek groaned, collapsing to his knees, and I could hear the cracking of bone from where I sat cowering a few feet away.
"Derek," I called warily. He winced, weakly motioning for me to run, but I found myself frozen to the spot. Peter smiled at me once more.
"He's fine," he assured me, though the blood falling from Derek's nose said otherwise. "I tried to tell you what was happening. I tried to warn you," he added, turning back to his nephew, writhing on the ground. Then he seized Derek by the front of his jacket once more, and threw him to the side. He flew high over the reception desk, smashing through a wall of glass and disappearing on the other side.
"Derek!" I screamed, but there was no reply. A few seconds later, there was the light tinkle of glass, scraping along the floor as I imagined Derek dragged himself along. Peter sighed.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he apologized, turning towards me. He took a few steps forward, and I pressed myself desperately into the wall, knowing there was no way I could escape around him. "Would you mind joining us? We have to have a short family meeting." I scrambled back, pushing myself along the floor as Peter quickly advanced towards me. "Ah, ah, ah," he scolded, raising a finger. He'd extended his claws, and the sharp tip waved menacingly only a small distance from my face. "I really don't want to hurt you, Sadie. Everything will just be a lot easier if you come with me." He lowered his hand, holding it out to me to help me up. I simply stared at it, glancing frantically between his mutilated face, the shattered glass, the bleeding nurse on the floor, his offered hand. After a few seconds, Peter sighed. "Alright," he agreed quietly. He quickly grabbed my arm, wrenching me up to my feet with surprising force. I yelped, nearly feeling the skin bruise under his grip and definitely feeling the cuts where his claws had sunken into my skin. He shook his head, steering us both behind the desk in pursuit of his nephew. "I did warn you," he reprimanded, carelessly pulling me along. He retracted his claws, but his hand still kept a tight hold on my arm, forcing blood to seep out from under his hand. I tripped, bumping into a wall as I tried to avoid stepping on the larger pieces of glass and ramming my purse into my side.
My purse!
I glanced down at it, hoping Peter disregarded the spike in my heartbeat as a reaction to nearly falling in a pile of glass shards. Somehow, I'd managed to keep hold of my purse. I wracked my brains trying to remember… Yes. It should be fine. I tried to form some sort of plan in my head. There was no way I could take on Peter. There was no way he would let me escape. If I tried anything, I was sure he would keep his word about not wanting to hurt me, but doing so anyway. But I had to get to Stiles and Scott.
We followed Derek all the way to the morgue, Peter's fingers digging into the flesh of my arm as we slowly paced behind his nephew. He forced me through the door ahead of him, acting as a slight shield should Derek decide to pounce once more. But Derek didn't look like he would be pouncing on anyone any time soon. He was slouched against the metal of the far wall, eyes slightly out of focus and the blood from his nose dripping down to his chin. Peter seemed to agree with my silent assessment, as he nudged me gently toward his nephew.
"Why don't you just sit down over there? Go on," he encouraged. My first two steps were slow, frightened that the Alpha would change his mind and rip me back to his side. But Peter made no move to stop me. I ran the rest of the way to Derek's side, kneeling on the floor next to him as I tried to wipe the blood off his face. He batted me away with a soft groan, and I relented, leaning my back against the wall next to him. "I was going to wait for dramatic flair," Peter began, drawing our attention back to him. "But…" He turned to face a small, round mirror attached to one of the metal tables. He twisted his head, inspected his rough, scared skin. Then he lifted a hand, spinning the mirror around so the light of the room was reflected, flashing against his skin as the glass spun round and round. As I watched, the skin on Peter's face smoothed out, stretching and paling until it was uniform over his entire face. He grabbed the mirror once more, abruptly stopping the rotation so that he could admire his handiwork. "When you look this good, why wait?" He turned to look at Derek and I expectantly, as if waiting for us to burst into applause at his wonderful trick. When we remained completely silent, he rolled his newly healed eyes and sighed. Then he shook his head a bit, returning to business. "Derek, you have to give me a chance to explain," he pleaded, leaning forward slightly. "After all…we're family." I could practically feel Derek's resolve crumbling next to me, and as much as that terrified me, I couldn't blame him. He'd gone so long without any family at all, losing most of them in the fire, losing Laura, basically losing his uncle, only for it to be revealed that Peter was well and alive again. As hard as Derek seemed to the outside world, I knew that was important to him. My chances were slim, but I had to try.
I reached out my right hand, sliding it over the floor to lay it over Derek's left. He glanced over at me, and I gave him a hard look. Peter was not my family, and whatever Derek was about to do, I was staying with Scott and Stiles. I had to get out of here to get to them, to warn them, to tell them what'd happened. Derek's eyes flitted over my face for a few seconds, before he slid his hand back. He pushed himself up on the wall, turning to face Peter who was watching him curiously.
"Why don't you explain this?" Derek suggested through clenched teeth, and threw himself at his uncle. Peter seemed at least marginally caught off guard this time, as both men went toppling to the ground. But I didn't have time to watch. I wrenched my purse from my shoulder, ripping the zipper open and searching, searching… Finally, my hand grazed the plastic, and I pulled the item from my purse. I turned back to the fighting werewolves, a pile of violent, flailing limbs and growls on the tiled floor. Finally, Peter managed to pin Derek underneath him. He sat up, pulling his arm back in preparation to punch him once more. I didn't give him the chance.
"Hey!" I yelled. Peter paused, glancing up at me just as I pulled the trigger. The blast doors fell off, probes shooting across the room and latching onto Peter's chest and immediately hitting him with an electric shock. He twitched slightly, obviously caught off guard by the attack. I held the taser steady, breathing hard but holding my finger on the trigger. Derek pushed Peter off him, trying his best to avoid getting tangled in the taser wires.
"Go!" he ordered, using the table to pull himself to his feet.
"But-!" I began to protest. Derek waved me off, even as he winced and put all his weight on the table.
"Go! Find Scott! Now!" I glanced down at Peter, who seemed to be smiling even as the electricity shot through his body. Reluctantly, I reached behind me for my purse, standing up with one hand still on the trigger. Then, quickly as I could, I released the cartridge and sprinted for the door. I wasn't sure how long it would take for Peter to recover, wasn't sure what Derek was planning to do. All I knew was I needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.
I tore out of the hospital, launching myself into the van and throwing my purse in the passenger seat. I fumbled with the keys, ramming them into the ignition and ignoring the screech of the tires as I sped out of the parking lot.
I wasn't sure how Peter and his nurse had managed to get the hospital completely empty, but the streets surrounding the area were deserted as well. That was good. At least I didn't have to worry about getting into an accident, or getting a ticket for my outrageous speeding. At the very least, I wouldn't be pulled over by the Sheriff, who was no doubt proudly watching Stiles at the game. In fact, it seemed everyone was at the high school watching the game. I hardly saw a single car until I was within a few blocks of the school, and all of those cars were driving in the other direction. I cursed under my breath. A procession of cars leaving the school meant one thing. The lacrosse game was over, and I had missed the entire damn thing.
But I didn't have time to think about how disappointed Stiles was going to be. I had to find him and Scott and tell them what I knew. So I sped past all of the vehicles leaving the school and found a parking space near the back entrance to the gym. I was just about to race out of the car when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I just had on my Thor T-shirt, leaving my arms bare and the bloody claw marks left by Peter completely exposed. I cursed once more, quickly snatching a discarded zip-up hoodie from the back seat. I tugged it on and grabbed my purse once more, barely remembering to lock the car before I dashed into the building.
"Stiles?!" I yelled as I ran down the empty hallway that led from the field to the locker rooms. "Scott?!" The lights in the locker room were off, so I imagined all of the boys had showered and left already. I was about to let out another string of profanities, ready to sprint back to the car and drive to Scott's house, when another voice cut through the silence.
"Sadie?!" Stiles's high, frantic voice called back. My head snapped up, back towards the seemingly abandoned locker room. I sprinted over immediately, urgently skidding through the doorframe. But every thought of Derek, Peter, and werewolves flew out of my head the moment I saw the boys' forlorn faces. Scott wasn't even dressed yet, hunched over on a bench with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist, his hands on the back of his neck, head low but eyes on the door. Stiles was crouched in front of him, completely dressed in normal attire once more, but looking extremely upset. My stomach lurched.
"I am so sorry," I said immediately, but neither boy seemed to hear me.
"Are you okay?" Stiles demanded, quickly rising to his feet and keeping his eyes on my silhouetted form. I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine." Stiles whispered something along the lines of, "Oh thank God," before rushing over to me and pulling me into a hug. I was taken completely by surprise, but was only able to enjoy it for a few seconds before a sting shot up my left arm. I hissed in pain, causing Stiles to pull back with a concerned and alarmed look. "Okay," I admitted with a wince. "Maybe not completely fine."
"Sadie," Scott interrupted, breathing deeply through his nose from his place still on the bench. "Are you bleeding?"
"What?!" Stiles asked in alarm, spinning back to me. His eye scanned over my body, searching in vain for the injury. Then he seemed to notice how my left arm was pressed slightly closer to my torso as I tried to keep myself from moving it too much. Without asking for permission, Stiles reached for my shoulders, grabbing the collar of the hoodie and pushing it off. He pulled it down my arms, gently as he could manage in his panic. Some calmer part of my brain wished I had the time to appreciate Stiles removing any article of my clothing, but the majority was focused on the horrorstruck look on his face. His eyes widened as he inspected the claw marks left in my arm, not nearly as deep as the cuts on Jackson's neck, but still deep enough to draw a significant amount of blood. His left hand held my sweatshirt limply at his side, nearly forgotten as his right hand grazed over the darkening bruises on my bicep. I watched him closely, unable to think of anything to say. Finally, he swallowed, jaw set and eyes closed for a moment. "What the hell happened?" he demanded in a low, controlled voice.
"It was Peter," I replied simply. The words sent my brain into hyperdrive, reminding me just why I was here late with an injured arm in the first place. "Peter Hale, Derek's uncle. Guys, he's…"
"The Alpha," Scott finished for me, nodding slightly from the bench. "We know."
"What?" I asked in confusion. "How?"
"They beat you here," Scott replied tentatively. "Peter…and Derek. They're working together now." They looked like they were waiting for me to scream, to yelp in surprise and betrayal. But all I did was sigh, lifting my left hand to my head and nodding. The movement caused Stiles to retract his hand, blinking and opening his mouth once or twice.
"Um, there's a…there's a first aid kit," he muttered, and then dashed away into the dark locker room. I trudged over to Scott, collapsing next to him on the bench.
"What happened?" he asked, almost gently. I ducked my head, letting my fingers probe at the bruise on my arm as I replied.
"Well, Derek and I were at the hospital. I went in after you called, but the place was completely deserted. Like hundred percent empty. I went to find his uncle and his nurse, but that room was empty too and that's when we realized what was going on. Derek came running in and took down the nurse and fought Peter, but he was losing pretty badly. Peter grabbed at me at one point, hence this." I paused to wince as my finger prodded the slice left by Peter's thumb, clearly the deepest incision on my arm, as well as the darkest bruise. "But Derek attacked him until I could taser him and get away."
"You tasered an Alpha?!" Scott repeated incredulously, caught somewhere between being impressed and horrified. I shrugged.
"Neither of them were wolfed out," I dismissed. "I'm not sure if Derek's still weak from Peter's attack at school, or if he was subconsciously holding back because he's his uncle."
"Well those are both pretty terrible excuses," Stiles replied from a few rows of lockers down. There was a slight clatter and a sigh as I assumed he managed to unearth the first aid kit he was searching for.
"I don't think so," I said quietly, making Scott look over at me.
"Are you freaking kidding me?!" Stiles demanded, appearing once more with the white box in his hands. "You're still defending him?! Sadie, he and Peter showed up here to try and get Scott to help them kill more people! Okay? Not just the five people he's already killed! More! Derek's siding with the lunatic who tore his sister in half and you're still okay with that?!"
"I'm not defending him!" I snapped, glaring at Stiles harshly. "I'm not saying he's right, I'm just saying I understand." Stiles shook his head in disbelief.
"What do you mean?" Scott asked. I sighed.
"Look, guys, Peter's the only family Derek's got left. At all. He doesn't want to be alone anymore, and that's blinding him to all the terrible things Peter's done. If it was my mom…I'm not sure if I could stop myself from siding with her either." Neither boy said a word. I felt I'd made a solid point, though neither of them wanted to admit it. After a few seconds, Stiles stepped forward, kneeling on the ground in front of me and opening the first aid kit. He pulled out some gauze and disinfectant wipes before glancing pointedly at Scott.
"Dude, could you like, go put some clothes on?"
"What? Oh," Scott commented, looking down at himself as if he'd only just realized he was wearing a towel. "Yeah, sorry." Scott quickly scampered away to his locker out of sight, opening it so he could change back into his normal clothes. Stiles shook his head slightly, turning back to my arm and beginning to clean the traces of blood away. I winced as he pressed against the deep wound once more.
"Sorry," he apologized immediately, hand jerking back. I shook my head.
"I'm fine." Stiles rolled his eyes, clearly disagreeing with my assessment but returning to cleaning my arm.
"You know," he began quietly after a few concentrated seconds of silence, "I'm pretty sure I told you that you weren't allowed to do this anymore."
"What?" I asked, squinting at him in confusion.
"Getting attacked, specifically by the Alpha," he clarified. I smirked, thinking back to the night I'd been attacked at the video store and Stiles had stood with me. It was one of the first times I'd thought back to the night fondly.
"True, and I said I wouldn't make a habit of it," I replied. "I don't think you can call two attacks a habit per say. I'm still in the clear."
"Three," Stiles corrected, glancing up at me through his lashes. "Video store, school, hospital. And Dad always says three is a pattern."
"Guess that's true," I conceded with a small smile. It was very easy for me to imagine Sheriff Stilinski teaching his son that. Actually, it was pretty easy to imagine my dad doing the same. "Sorry. I guess danger just comes with the territory of having a werewolf for a friend."
"Yeah," Stiles grumbled. "Still wish I didn't have to worry about you so much." I bit my lip at that. I watched him quietly as he worked, his right hand moving gently over my cuts while his left was wrapped carefully around my elbow, holding my arm in place.
"I'm sorry I missed the game," I apologized desperately. Stiles smirked, tossing the wipe aside and reaching for a bandage.
"Eh, it's fine," he dismissed.
"No. No, it's not," I argued, closing my eyes and still shaking my head. "It was your first game on first line."
"You were getting attacked," Stiles pointed out bitterly. "It's not like you ditched. Besides, I didn't get to play that much anyway."
"Why not?" I asked with concern. Stiles tossed his head to the side, letting out a breath that made his lips splutter comically.
"Well, when I was on the field no one seemed to think it was a good idea to pass to me, and then around half time Mesman showed up. Apparently he got these super strong eye drops, miraculously recovered from his pink eye. And then they put me back on the bench." I groaned, watching him sympathetically.
"That sucks."
"Not really," Stiles disagreed half-heartedly. "Nothing I'm not used to. I mean, hey, at least they let me stand on the field for a while. That was cool."
"Did Lydia at least bring my sign?" I asked hopefully, but deflated when Stiles shook his head.
"No. I mean, I don't think so. I didn't see it. You know, like it never like, caught my eye or anything," he rambled. I sighed, dropping my gaze to my lap. I half-noticed absent-mindedly that I must look like a wreck. I sat on the bench with my hair askew, T-shirt just a tad too small, and my thigh-highs that had slid down from all the running and activity, one clinging just above my knee while the other sat scrunched up over the swell of my calf. And Stiles was kneeing in front of me bandaging my arm.
"Well," I sighed. "I guess I'll just have to bring it next time."
"There's not gonna be a next time," Stiles lamented, tugging the wrap around my bicep. "Mesman being back means they've got enough players on first line. So that's the end of that."
"Of course there's gonna be a next time," I maintained. "Stiles, you worked hard for that spot. You'll get back out there eventually. And I solemnly swear that me and my sign will be there when you do." Stiles paused in his work, hands still holding my arm as he looked up at me. I offered him a small smile, but he just continued to stare at me placidly. Shadowed, sable eyes darted over my face, inspecting my eyes, my cheeks, my lips, darting down to my chest and Thor T-shirt before darting up again.
"Thanks," he managed to choke out quietly. I simply nodded, tongue unconsciously darting out over my lips for a moment. Stiles watched, and then suddenly he let go of my arm. "Uh, you're…you're done. That—That should be good," he offered, standing up and taking a few steps back.
"Oh." I jolted slightly, glancing down at my arm, which was indeed wrapped firmly in a bandage. "Yeah, thanks."
"I'm not first aid so…" He shrugged, but I shook my head, letting my fingers graze over my arm, testing his handiwork.
"No, it's fine. Uh, I'm fine. Thanks."
"Yeah, just uh…yeah. Please don't do it again." I chuckled nervously, holding up my right hand in a two-finger salute. Stiles nodded, also laughing, and then Scott reemerged fully dressed once more. I'd actually almost forgotten about him, but judging by the unimpressed look on his face, he'd been listening in to the entire conversation anyway.
"So what exactly did Peter say?" I asked him, reaching down to pull up my thigh-highs once more. Stiles let out a deep breath through his nose, and Scott sighed.
"He wanted me to join his pack," he informed me. "He was saying something about he needed my help, that he only wanted to kill the responsible people."
"Responsible for what?" I asked, scrunching up my face in confusion. Scott shrugged.
"He didn't say exactly. He just said that he wanted to help me reach my full potential, that my friends were holding me back, but…"
"But what?" I asked when he trailed off. Scott pursed his lips, hanging his head low while his hands played with the straps of his backpack. Then he glanced up at me cautiously.
"He said that I didn't have to kill Allison…or you…" I raised my eyebrows in surprise, thinking back to the hospital where Peter had told me something eerily similar.
"Which, you know, is comforting," Stiles comment dryly, evidently already informed that I'd been given a safe card. "At least we know he's not aiming to put you on the chopping block."
"But why?" I demanded. "I mean, Stiles and I are the only two people who know you're a werewolf. I'd say we're the people holding you back the most." Scott shrugged in agreement, shaking his head.
"I don't know. He just kept talking about potential, and then he stabbed me in the back of the neck with his claws." Scott reached up to rub the healing wound at the memory. "I started seeing all of these flashes of fire or the hospital, and people were screaming. P-Peter was younger and, and I saw those two guys from the park, and Derek's sister."
"They're memories," I explained, standing up from my seat. "It's what I was trying to tell you this morning. I went to see Dr. Fenris, and he said that there were legends of experienced werewolves being able to pass or extract memories from each other from a wound in the back of the neck. That's why you saw Peter's experience of the fire, and why your jackass lacrosse captain keeps dreaming of the Hale fire." Stiles nodded in understanding, while Scott continued to rub at the back of his neck. Suddenly, his eyes went wide.
"Damnit! Jackson!"
"I know, he sucks," I offered, crossing my arms angrily over my chest. Stiles smirked, but Scott shook his head.
"No, no. Allison brought her dad and her aunt to the game, and Kate saw the claw marks on Jackson's neck. She was talking to Mr. Argent about how he must be the other beta!" Stiles groaned, and I sighed angrily, grinding my teeth together.
"Awesome," I growled. "So he hasn't even gotten the bite yet and he's already got hunters on his ass. That's great. That's superb."
"What are we gonna do?" Stiles asked quietly. "About any of this? Allison's family wants to kill Jackson, and the only way to make you human is to kill the Alpha, who is now working with Derek." We all remained silent for a few seconds, staring at the floor as we contemplated just how big our problems were getting.
"Well, we keep helping Scott work on his control," I began. "Peter's gonna be stronger with Derek on his side, so even if we can't kill him, we have to make sure he doesn't force Scott into joining him." The boys nodded.
"And we keep an eye on Jackson," Scott added. I rolled my eyes.
"Okay, you guys can keep an eye on Jackson." Scott raised his eyebrows curiously, exchanging a confused look with Stiles. I huffed. "Look, if you're trying to protect him, I don't want to be there for it. He got himself into this mess by being an asshole."
"But he's still human," Scott pointed out. "He hasn't done anything to deserve getting killed."
"Well he threatened you," I listed, counting on my fingers, "wants to become a werewolf so he's better at lacrosse and more people will like him, tried to come on to me at lunch, and then dumped Lydia so he's scot-free to flirt with Allison so you give him what he wants. And that's on top of all the shit he's been doing for the last fifteen years of his petty life." Scott winced as Stiles's eyes widened.
"Woah, woah," he spluttered, waving his hands in front of him. "Jackson and Lydia broke up?"
"Via text," I conceded. Stiles's face warped into a very strange expression. He seemed to be fighting the urge to whoop in celebration, as well as holding himself back from bursting out of the locker room to pummel Jackson in the face. He was caught in a painful limbo between rage, sympathy and elation. My stomach dropped.
"We keep an eye on Jackson," Scott interrupted firmly. "I'm not letting him die because the hunters think he's me."
"Fine," I spat. I snatched my sweatshirt and pulled it back on over my bandaged arm, then grabbed my purse. "I'm gonna head home."
"Hey, Sadie…" Scott started, but I brushed him off, blowing right past a very confused Stiles. I wasn't in the mood to talk to him about his crush on Lydia at the moment.
"I'll see you guys tomorrow," I said shortly, before I stormed out of the locker room and back to the car, my stomach still clenched and, as I was horrified to discover, my eyes watering with unshed tears of anger and frustration. Perfect.
A/N: I am so unbelievably happy that I got to write Peter, okay? Especially after last night, because wow Peter, wow. I hope you all enjoyed this! Things are starting to get pretty intense! Literally though, hold tight to your laptops, because the story will not slow down from this point on!
Thank you, as usual, to all you readers, favoriters, followers, and reviewers! I love hearing from you guys, always! Thank you to ScornedxRose, LoveLiveLife22, ellisbellisballs, vanillaclouds101, kaljara, MS. QUEEN21, Guest, CypherToorima, SammieLuvsFood, LynZann, xxxxninaxxxx, masqueraderose3, Lucy Greenhill, LifeToDeath, Elemenop22, becca1130, Isaac fan, Kelly1432, lilyllama, xALFiex, prettyargents, , KageNoUta27, GetsueiNoYume, MassisThehunter, OliviaMisfit, aaand LionHeartMisfit! You are all beautiful people!
I'm really, really excited to hear what you guys think of this chapter, and all of the chapters to come!
EDIT: Reminder once more, thanks to tumblr user lostinwonderland314, there's now a polyvore version of Sadie's outfit for this chapter. Link is on my profile if you're interested. Thank you!
-Brittney