"We're closed," the man said and didn't bat an eye at Peter who was basically carrying Braeden by now. He had an arm around her hip and her arm over his shoulders which was the only thing keeping her upright. Peter adjusted his hold on her wrist to keep her from slipping out of his grip.
"Stiles Stilinski said that you can help us," Peter said and just hoped that Stiles' name would open this door for him. If this man was not willing to help them out he didn't have another choice, he would have to bring Braeden to the nearest ER and hope for the best.
The man, according to Stiles' note his name was Deaton, studied them for a moment longer from behind the gate but then he put the Closed sign aside and stepped out of the way.
"This way." With that, he led them into an examination room.
They both needed to help Braeden up onto the table. She bit back a scream and for a second Peter was convinced that she would lose consciousness, which might have been for the better, but she caught her breath and stayed in a more or less upright position.
"What happened?" Deaton asked while he reached for scissors to cut off the shirt. Dried blood had glued it to Braeden's body and it was not salvageable anyway.
However, before Peter could explain the obvious he heard noises outside the room.
"That's most likely my employee." Deaton put away the scissors. "He might have forgotten something."
"Just get rid of him," Peter hissed but Deaton was already on his way to deal with whoever was out there.
"Peter." Blindly Braeden reached for him and after some fumbling, she found his hand.
"I'm here," he assured her.
"I don't feel so good."
"I know." Still holding her hand he slung his arm around her shoulders. Mostly to prevent her from taking a nose-dive off the table but to assure her that he was there as well.
"What's taking him so long?" Peter wondered when the vet didn't come back. Voices were coming from outside so most likely not the employee who had forgotten his phone but somebody with an emergency. However, they were having an emergency right here.
"You okay for a second?" Peter asked and made sure that she was supporting herself before he let go of her and headed for the door.
"Doc, we need you here," Peter said but then he noticed who Deaton was talking to. Isaac Lahey. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
The guy seemed just as surprised as Peter but Peter recovered quicker than him. He urged Deaton to get back to Braeden and after a moment of consideration, the vet decided to leave this to Peter while he went back to take care of his patient.
"Who are you working for?" Peter asked but he knew the answer to that one. Deucalion was the only one coming to mind.
Of course, Isaac denied working for anybody. He was close to wetting his pants and Peter was inclined to believe him but Isaac had crossed his path a few times too often for it to be a coincidence. Peter expected him to cave and to tell him everything he wanted to know but instead, he grew a backbone and threatened to call the cops on him.
It was a hollow threat. Even if Isaac had been following him around he shouldn't have anything on him. Peter had met questionable people and had closed a deal here and there but nothing he should be able to prove. Especially, if Isaac was working for Deucalion who had no interest in getting the cops involved.
But then Isaac threatened to run to Derek. Peter had to give him kudos for that move. Before Peter could tell him in clear terms how bad that idea was Isaac got rescued by his friend who indeed had been waiting with a broken down bike behind the building.
"It was nice meeting you, Isaac," Peter said while Isaac ushered his friend out the back door. "We should talk again soon."
Peter waited to make sure that they had truly left before he hurried back to Braeden.
She was lying on the table by now and Deaton had cut away her shirt.
"How is she?" Peter asked. Braeden didn't lift her head and her breath was coming out in short puffs, she wasn't out but not fully conscious either.
"I could use a hand," Deaton said and with that Peter became a nurse. There were things he'd never wanted to see. Forceps digging into Braeden's flesh just above the hip bone was one of those things but Peter tried to not think too much about it.
"You were lucky." Deaton dropped the bullet into a small basin. It looked almost harmless.
Braeden didn't answer, she had finally lost consciousness but it looked as if the worst was over. The doc cleaned the wound and then he reached for thread and needle.
"How do you know Stiles?" Peter asked. This was his chance to at least solve that mystery. It was worth a try. Stiles was a college professor, how did he know somebody like Deaton?
"You don't expect an answer to that, do you?" Deaton kept his eyes on the task at hand. "If anybody came asking I haven't seen you or her either."
"You don't even know our names," Peter reminded him but he hadn't expected anything less. What Deaton was doing here was highly illegal and his clients were not people who would take a breach of trust lightly. Deaton better kept his mouth shut if he didn't want to end up in jail or worse.
"I don't want to know your names." Deaton tied the last knot and cut off the thread. "I want you out of my clinic as quickly as possible. I don't know if I mentioned it but we're closed."
"You said that." He was not getting anything out of the doc so he stepped up to stand by Braeden's shoulder in an attempt to rise her.
"Get her somewhere where she can rest for a few days and keep an eye on her. I'll give you some antibiotics but if she gets worse you have to take her to a hospital." Deaton turned around to rifle through a cabinet with medication. "Here is something for the pain but otherwise you'll have to wait and see, I think you know the drill."
Peter nodded. He'd managed to stay out of the line of fire most of the time but not always. Never as bad as Braeden here, he had to admit.
"What do we owe you?"
Peter paid in cash without batting an eye at the amount and then he helped Braeden into a sitting position.
"Ready to leave?" He asked to which she swung her legs over the edge of the table.
"I want a more comfortable bed," she muttered and even managed to stand more or less on her own.
"I'll see what I can do."
The way back to the car was as slow and painful as the way into the clinic earlier and Peter breathed easier once he had her in the passenger's seat.
Peter already had a hotel room and it would be the easy way to sneak her in but Deucalion most likely knew about it and if he came looking for Braeden that would be the first place. Besides, Peter wasn't sure about this Isaac guy. He didn't know for sure that he was working for Deucalion but with his track record of showing up everywhere Peter was, he didn't put it past him to knock at his hotel room door at some point.
Peter had been to the less glamorous parts of New York before, it wasn't hard to find a motel that didn't ask questions. It was getting late and the poor light hid Braeden's soiled shirt but even if not, Peter doubted that somebody around here would care about it. He still made sure to lock the door and then he peeked out through the curtains but there was nobody in sight.
Satisfied for now he turned toward Braeden who was leaning heavily on the small table next to the door.
"Want to lay down?" He didn't wait for an answer, though, and just helped her over to the bed. With a pained noise she stretched out but then she sighed in relief. When she closed her eyes, she didn't open them again. She didn't even stir when Peter took off her boots and tucked her in.
Peter waited a few minutes but when it became clear that she wouldn't wake up anytime soon, he slipped out of the room to raid the vending machine he'd seen outside. He stocked up with bottles of water and snacks, that had to last them until morning, they would figure out the rest then.
He had been on his feet for way too long, he was dead tired but still too wired to sleep. So he took a bottle of water and a bag of peanuts and stretched out on the other bed.
I owe you, Peter wrote to Stiles, ignoring the other messages for now.
I hope your friend is okay, Stiles answered suspiciously quickly. He must have been waiting for a message from him.
She's sleeping now. Peter didn't want to get into details in written messages but it looked as if Stiles understood. He didn't go into details either. If that was because he was the son of a sheriff or if that was a lesson learned the hard way Peter didn't know. He added it to the list of things he wanted to ask Stiles. Who most likely had a list of his own.
Do you need anything? Stiles asked.
That made Peter pause. All his belongings were in his hotel room and he intended to return there tomorrow to get them. If he wanted to stay there he wasn't sure but he was too tired to think about that now. At the moment he only had the clothes he was wearing and his phone but he could make due until tomorrow, no problem.
He glanced over to where Braeden was sleeping. Her tank top hadn't even left the clinic with her and the shirt she had been wearing over it was soiled with dried blood. She didn't even have the clothes on her back, so to speak. When she'd left the warehouse she hadn't stopped to get her stuff. She hadn't known if Ennis had backup and the police had been coming. She'd done the smart thing and ran.
We're good, Peter answered. He didn't want to drag Stiles deeper into this than he already had. I just need to go shopping in the morning.
He added the last bit to not sound too stand-offish.
What do you need? Stiles asked.
We had to leave in a hurry and didn't have time for her to pack a bag, Peter wrote because he felt that he owed Stiles at least this bit of an explanation. With the information he had Stiles should be able to read between the lines.
She needs at least some clothes and I doubt she's wearing your seize.
Since I don't know your friend I'll take your word for it, Stiles answered. The message ended with an emoji with its tongue out.
You better don't disappear on me, I have questions, he added after a second.
Same here, Peter answered. He had to think about what he could tell Stiles. He shouldn't tell him anything, he knew that. The smart thing for him to do would be to leave New York as quickly as possible and not return for at least a decade. Cut his ties with Stiles and especially with Derek. One of Deucalion's goons was dead and Peter had no idea how he would take it.
However, Peter had been awake for way too long, he should get some rest before he decided on his next steps.
He wished Stiles a good night and promised to stay in touch and then he got ready for bed. Before he turned off the lights he checked on Braeden but she was sound asleep which he counted as a good sign.
Exhaustion caught up with him and it didn't take long for him to drift off to sleep.