Chapter Four: Red Earth & Pouring Rain
Blood seeps through the cracks in the earth, grass and dirt stuck in it's essence. Stiles lays doubled over, pressing his hand deep into the wound to stop the flow. He'd pulled the branch out prematurely, realizing that it probably wasn't the smartest idea when the river of red cascaded down his shirt and coated his shaking fingers. To anyone else, it would look like a massacre had occurred by the blood that stains his teeth and the amount that paints his throat like a grotesque masterpiece. He sees figures parting the trees, Lydia, Scott, Allison, Kira, and Isaac on a dead sprint to meet him.
Lydia gasped in horror, a shrill scream cutting through the air when her rose petal lips part. Fragile little Lydia, the girl who slept in pretty dresses and who never had a single strawberry blonde hair out of place, appeared disheveled with wild-desperation shining in her sea green eyes. Stiles basked in her concern, a soft smile playing on his lips despite the current situation.
Allison wore a tight grimace, her gaze calculated and shriveled into narrowed slits. Hunter's eyes assessed the wound, removing her pristine, white jacket to place pressure in the spot where she had replaced his hands. Her dark hair whipped around her face as she worked on cleaning the area. It would make it even worse if it got infected. Stiles swallows thickly which she hears and her brown sugar eyes meet him head-on. She grabbed his hand, giving him a tight squeeze and a thin smile, one that silently communicated that she'd fix it. She'd fix him. And he believed her. Getting hurt usually wouldn't be problem since he's an Alpha and most things healed pretty fast. However, with Malia's particular strength, the branch had protruded his body out through his back, impaling him completely in one clean strike.
Scott moved around him in a circle, sniffing him closely and checking for anymore wounds. His golden eyes flashed in anger as his senses took in the blood. Scott had always been known for being the calmer one in the pack. He only killed with a purpose, finding unnecessary bloodshed inhumane. His compassion was his Achilles Heel, and Stiles wouldn't change a thing about him. With laser focus, he completes his rounds, keeping his hand on the small of Stiles' back. It keeps him grounded and makes Stiles feel a little better too.
Isaac stands by the tree, his gaze flitting back in forth while his hands ball into fists to stop them from shaking. He was the sensitive one of the group. Sometimes Stiles wonders if it would have been better if he'd never become a werewolf, but in the end it wasn't up to him. Violence had always been Isaac's trigger. One time it had gotten so bad that he'd fallen into a near catatonic state, mumbling and hissing "let me out" over and over again with a hollow glint in his eyes. The curly haired boy had came with a back story of abuse, his dad beating him, burning him, and locking him away in the freezer that sat below the house in their basement. He'd been working on it, but the post traumatic stress was sometimes too much for him to handle. Today is one of those times. Kira keeps her distance, but every so often she runs her small fingers through his hair and wipes the sweat off his forehead. They'd always made a great team.
Allison makes quick work of closing up the hole. With expert skill, she removes the crescent moon earrings from her ears, using them as substitute needles to stitch up the wound. Stiles howl pierces the sky and rocks the trees, his claws biting into the earth as the pain increases. The dullness of the earrings make it worse, being so consciously aware of each inch of his flesh ripping and tearing, slow and steady, over and over makes the pain near blinding to the point where adrenaline kicks in and he doesn't feel anything at all.
"I'm almost done, Stiles." She promises, dried blood caked underneath her fingernails as she stitches the last of his broken skin back together.
"Thank you, Allison." He says sleepily, as he fights to stay awake,
She smiles tightly with it never quite reaching her eyes. "This should hold it together until we get you to the hospital. We called Melissa, she already has a room for you."
Stiles looks around at his friends, knowing all their faces and being thankful for every single of of them.
"You're going to be okay, Stiles. You can't die on me just yet." Lydia says through her tears, pushing the sweaty hair off his clammy forehead.
He smirks, "I knew you couldn't get enough of me, Lyds."
She scoffs and turns her head to hide her smile. "Don't flatter yourself, Stilinski."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He snarks back.
Scott lifts him up bridal style, hoisting his weight equally into both his arms.
"You know this is usually how a husband carries his wife over the threshold to their new house together. Do I hear wedding bells in our future, Pal? Stiles jokes, spitting some blood onto the ground as Scott carries him through the moss and trees.
Scott can't fight the smile that stretches across his face. "As long as I wear the pants in this relationship, My dude." He teases, focused on moving faster through the woods.
Isaac walks behind them looking for a threat. He'd always been protective over Stiles and undyingly loyal. He always felt bad that he was never able to help in situations like this. And no matter how many times Stiles told him that it was okay, he never believed him. This was the one way he could contribute, watching over his Alpha as if his life depended on it. Kira decides to walk with him, her Katana in one hand and her other in his hand rubbing small circles on his palm. Isaac was head over heels for the shy girl with the clumsy grin the second he'd seen her. Everyone in the pack knew, but Kira appeared oblivious. She wasn't one for attention and somehow she never noticed the way Isaac looked at her. But Stiles had faith in them, they'd figure it out.
The pack continues to skirt through the woods until they find the familiar break and they rush to the hospital about five minutes down the road.
The hospital is bustling with people. Broken legs, bullet wounds, and cases of Pneumonia all around the room.
Scott moves through the sea of people and rings on the bell adamantly until he gets a nurse's attention.
A busty woman with cat glasses and an obvious nose job looks down at them with a disinterested roll of her eyes. She catches sight of the yellowish wound oozing with puss and blood and has the audacity to yawn.
"Well that doesn't look good." She says tiredly, moving her eyes back up to Scott's face.
Allison growls very unlady-like as she pushes through the group. If you want something done right you have to do it yourself. "Hello, yes-" She starts, looking down at the woman's name tag. "-Brenda," She acknowledges with a falsely sweet smile, "My friend here needs some medical attention as you can see. I need the best room you've got and a doctor to look him over and fix him. Am I clear?" She bites out, the same saccharin smile still in place with full dimples on display.
The nurse looks down at her haughtily and glares. "Look Missy, I don't know how you think you are..." She begins, before Melissa runs around the corner and latches onto Scott's arm. "I've got this one Brenda, why don't you attend to the other patients, yeah?" Melissa suggests, throwing her a disgruntled look and ushering the teenagers down the hall.
Allison begins to follow, but turns around with a nasty smirk. "So thankful for your help... Becky, was it?" She asks feigning confusion. Before the nurse can retaliate, Allison turns on her heel and shuffles down the hallway after her friends.
"Bitch." The nurse says under her breath.
Allison's tinkling laughter can be heard all the way down the hall.
Melissa has Stiles on a gurney with Liam's step dad in tow. She had called in a favor and the doctor had agreed to come in. He knows all about what Liam is, what they all are. Isaac had called the runt of the litter and told him what happened. The pack would have pulled him out of class earlier, but school was important and they knew they could handle it without him. They wanted to shield him from unnecessary dangers as many times as they could allow and just let him be a kid for once. Ignorance is bliss and naivety is a gift. They all learned that lesson the hard way.
Scott took hold of one of Stiles' hands as they made their way down the busy halls of the hospital. All the while, the Beta leeched some of the pain from his Alpha so that he could remain awake until they got to his room and he was stabilized. They didn't know if he had hit his head or not or if he had a concussion, so it was best that he stay conscious.
Lydia stands on his other side and interlocks their hands, looking at him with concern.
She clears her throat. "You know, I was really scared back there. I felt your death coming and I couldn't believe that I was feeling yours of all people. I thought you were going to die, Stiles. What were you thinking? Do you realize how devastated we would all be if you were gone?" She whispers-yells, her voice growing louder and more pissed the longer he doesn't say anything.
"I was thinking of you guys. Or at least I thought I was. I guess I wasn't really thinking at all." He says in apology.
"You can't just run off like that without back up. Malia is powerful, Stiles. You can't afford to get yourself killed all because of a stupid pissing contest to see who is the stronger Alpha. So if you're done measuring dicks, I think it's pretty clear that she's the winner. Just leave it alone, promise me?" She demands.
Stiles sighs trying to contain his temper. "I can't do that, Lydia."
Isaac butts in. "She's right, Stiles. Your pride isn't worth your life. We can make a plan together and face her with all of us. We're better united, no more going solo. Even Batman needs a Robin." He says, referencing back to a conversation the two had together when Isaac had first been assimilated into the pack.
"Guys, this is my responsibility. It's just something I have to do alone." He says, leaving no room for discussion. "Don't fight me on this, because I'm not letting anyone else get hurt.
Allison scoffs and shakes her head. "I guess it's a good thing we didn't ask your permission. You may be the Alpha, but this is still a democracy, and I say we put it to a vote. You can't stop all of us from coming with you, that's not how it works. We don't leave without each other, so sorry to say that you're stuck with us." She says vehemently, her teeth clenched in a snarl.
"We don't know what we're up against. Everyone knows the stories, it isn't just Malia and Theo. They have another four pack members that we haven't even met yet. You can't face this alone, and don't insult us by thinking that we'll blindly follow your orders. It's our job as pack and as friends to tell you when you've got a stick up your ass. And this is me telling you." Kira adds in.
Everyone looks at her with shock and surprise written all over their faces. Kira was shy, quiet, and only ever really spoke when spoken to. It was so uncharacteristic of her to give her opinion so brazenly. Heck, no one had ever even heard her curse before.
Kira looks at everyone staring and looks down blushing, mumbling a quick "Sorry" before moving closer into Isaac's side.
A slow smile stretched across Stiles' face. "No, don't be sorry, Kira. I like your honesty, you should give your opinion more often."
A small grin slants across her face, "I'll keep that in mind."
Dr. Dunbar stops in front of a set of double doors and turns to face the pack. "I have to get him prepped for surgery, you guys can't be in the room during that time. Stay in the waiting room and Melissa will give you updates."
Scott objects immediately. "We can't just sit here and do nothing."
The doctor frowns sadly but stays assertive. "Sitting and doing nothing is the best thing you can do for Stiles right now. Trust me to do my job and to help your friend. I'll take care of him."
Stiles nods at his Beta. "Go Scott, I'll be good."
Without waiting for a response, the doctor and the other nurses rush him through the doors as his image gets smaller and smaller.
"He's going to be okay, right?" Allison asks, leaning her head on Scott's shoulder.
Scott runs his fingers through her hair and kisses her forehead. "Yeah, he'll be fine. It's Stiles, somehow he always manages to survive."
The pack stays for a few hours as Melissa shuffles back and forth with updates on his condition.
"Can we see him?" Lydia asks, as they all stand when Melissa walks in for the fifth time that day.
Melissa rubs the sleep out of her eyes. "Not tonight guys, sorry, Doctor's orders. It's getting late and Stiles needs his rest, as do the rest of you. They have him all sterilized and stitched up good as new. And with his healing abilities, he should be able to be released by tomorrow. Why don't you guys go home and get some sleep. I'll call if anything changes."
"Thanks mom" Scott yawns, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.
The others follow suit, each of them making their rounds and squeezing Mama McCall into a hug. She feels this sense of relief at each of their touch, every single one of them having a special place in her heart. They'd become like surrogate children to her.
Allison is last to get her hug but Melissa pulls her back and whispers, "The doctor was impressed by the way you stitched him up, Ally. You did a great job today under such a stressful situation. You just might of saved his life because without you he probably would of bled out. I'm so proud of you. Maybe one day you'll take an interest in the medical field? Doctor by day, monster hunter by night?" Melissa inquires with a wink, giving her shoulder a gentle pat before she turns and leaves.
The others had already taken off. Kira and Isaac left together, Liam offered to escort Lydia home which she chuckled at and ruffled his hair. And now Scott and Allison exit the doors hand in hand as he walks her home.
They say she moves like a ghost, a shadow of skin and white draped across her shoulder as she moves in lithe steps so gentle you'd think she is floating. In some parts of the world, they call her Aurora, "The Dawn" if you will. She moves like an electrically charged phenomenon of burning red light that magnifies the currents around her. You don't see her unless she wants you to and that has been her biggest advantage. What the legends don't specify is that the red is bloody richness that has become synonymous with the very core of who she is. She's a wretched mess of forlorn beauty like the snippets of anguished hymns you hum to yourself as you walk through a graveyard under dark gray clouds.
She moves through the black halls of the hospital tiptoeing down the rows of rooms with her dirty, bare feet barely making a sound against the tile floor.
She can smell him.
She creaks the door open and rests her arm against the door frame, peering in on the most vulnerable part of a person's life, what they look like when they are sleeping.
She lets herself in, closing the door softly behind her.
By the way he hasn't moved yet, she thinks he's most likely in a deep sleep so she doesn't hesitate to observe him languidly.
She runs her finger down his temple and stops at the peak of his cheekbone.
"You just won't die, will you? What am I suppose to do with you now?" Malia whispers in exasperation.
He murmurs unintelligible words in his unconsciousness, puckering his lips and squeezing his eyes tightly together. She wonders if he knows that she's there. But she came here for a reason. She needed to see for herself if the prophecy was true.
"I guess you're probably wondering what I'm doing here. Well Sleepyhead, I had to see you for myself." She pauses and removes her hand from his face, placing it back in her lap. "I thought killing you would be best and for a moment I thought I had succeeded. Maybe deep down I didn't really want to. Possibly, curiosity got the best of me." She whispers to herself, reciting the prophecy over and over in her head.
"It can't be you." She growls with a hard edge to her tone. "I reject you. I don't want you." She breaths, just a few centimeters from his face. Bitterness was quietly present in each word she spoke.
"Those damn witches."
She sits for a while, monitoring his heartbeat and respiratory system. She stares at his head of brown hair, his porcelain skin, the star-spangled moles ever present across his cheeks and jaw. She thinks about the gilded caramel that lives beneath his eyelids, so lively and smoldering. The eyes that spoke to her before words ever left his mouth.
"I had to be sure." She says through fragmented sentences and choppy thoughts, eyebrows furrowed with a look of confusion on her face. "I didn't think this could ever happen to me. I do not feel and I do not care. Weakness leads to caring." She spits out, clawing at her hair. "I was suppose to kill you... Why couldn't I kill you?" She begs the question, shouting into the void of her mind. The catacombs crumble and rebuild themselves, a new answer birthing a new question.
"Listen here you bastard, fate or not, I will not let you ruin me. You will not get inside my head." She vows, planting the seeds into existence and planning to see to it that they harvest with fruitfulness. Prophecy doesn't get to push her around.
Stiles hand grabs her in his sleep and she instinctively pulls away. She frowns at her reaction and leans closer towards him in a non-threatening manner. "I have a pack to protect. You may think I'm the devil incarnate and maybe I am, but those people are my family and I will take care of them. I sold my soul a long time ago and there's no coming back from that."
Malia had come to terms with this, accepted that she could never get her soul back. She didn't get the luxuries of being a teenage girl, experiencing things like friendship, camaraderie, or love. All she knew was fate and her duty to it.
With one last glance at his sleeping form, Malia moves to kiss his forehead but the action screams intimacy, so she opts for his cheek. Her lips tingle and she touches them with her fingertips. She clamps her mouth shut in a thin line and rushes out of the room, throwing him a quick look over her shoulder.
She exits the building, falling to her knees against the red earth and pouring rain. The chilled pellets seeps through her gown, the near translucent, wet fabric clinging to her naked breasts and flat stomach. Her pink nipples stand at attention and the hair on her arms stands on end. But in that moment, she doesn't care. The cold is numbing as it beats down on her and lashes at her face. Her dress forms into her skin until it's indistinguishable from fabric and flesh. The nakedness of her body looks like fine porcelain in the first rays of the morning breaking through the horizon. In the flimsy onesie and pure white underwear that managed to survive the rain, she almost looks like an angel. But angels don't walk around with crowns balanced on their heads or barely coveted tears in their eyes.
She races back to her haven, bumping into Theo on the way to her chambers.
He takes in her taunt nipples and her swollen lips, unintentionally missing the puffiness of her eyes.
"Malia, what happened to you?" He asks, failing to keep his eyes off her body.
She flutters her eyelashes at him. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, baby. Now take me to bed. Fuck me so good and hard that I forget my own name." She challenges, curling her talon like claws around his bicep. "Do you like it when I touch you like this?" She moans, grinning when she hears his breath hitch.
"Fuck... Malia." He groans, taking her earlobe into his mouth and sucking on it viciously.
"That's it... Make it all go away." She says in a lust-filled haze, moaning loudly when she wraps her legs around his hips and feels him hotly pressed against her.
Needless to say, he makes her forget.
For the morning, at least.
Author's Note: OK guys, What did y'all think about this chapter? Do you guys like the pacing of the story and where it's going so far? Also, I always resented that the show ever delved deeper into Allison and Stiles' friendship, so I'm playing around with it. And what about Malia, huh? What do y'all think this prophecy is about? And selling her soul... what does that entail? It could be figuratively or literally... I guess you'll have to wait and find out. Any one else feel kind of bad for Theo? Anyways, let me know what you're thinking, liking, not liking, whatever you want. Reviews are lovely and always appreciated.