Chapter Twenty Six
...
"I have been shot in the leg, I'm not an invalid, and if you dare try to carry me into the hospital, I will have someone shoot you in a far more painful place than the leg."
Scott smiled at the Sheriff and quickly stepped back, hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, go find your mother," the Sheriff said.
Scott didn't even try to argue, running from the police cruiser straight into the hospital. Chris and Peter started after Scott, knowing that Allison and Malia were both inside already.
"I guess that leaves me to help you inside," Rafe said with a wry grin, offering the Sheriff his hand.
Sliding out of the cruiser, the Sheriff stood on one foot and allowed Rafe to help him inside, walking gingerly on his injured leg. They both stood still at the sight of the people still lying on the floor, Rafe frowning when he realised that no one was guarding them.
"Anyone for pancakes?"
The question was so unexpected that Rafe couldn't help but stare at the Sheriff, wondering if he'd managed to hit his head somewhere along the way.
"We're out of syrup," someone answered, perplexing Rafe further.
"All right, the coast is clear; you can get up now," the Sheriff said.
There was a sigh of relief from most of the adults on the floor and people slowly started to sit up. A few stayed in the waiting room, some doctors and nurses tending to the patients who were still injured, sick or otherwise indisposed, and other people just left the hospital entirely without looking back.
The Sheriff realised that Rafe was still looking at him in confusion and he nodded over to a spare chair. "I'll explain once I'm sitting down."
Rafe nodded and helped the Sheriff across the small waiting room, lowering him to the plastic chair carefully. A nurse came over a moment later to check the Sheriff's wound.
"Figured the townspeople had had enough of being kidnapped or used as hostages when things... happen, so we organised a town meeting about it a few months ago. Created a phrase to indicate whether people were safe. If they knew something I didn't, there's a different phrase they can answer with to let me know."
"And it had to be about pancakes?" Rafe asked incredulously.
The Sheriff shrugged. "It's more discrete than calling out 'is everything all right?' and potentially getting a wrong or forced answer. Besides, it was a late meeting and most people were hungry."
"And what if someone was at the meeting who plans on hurting people?" Rafe asked, his voice low.
"It's a risk I'm willing to take for the safety of the rest of the town," the Sheriff replied, though god knew the same thought had crossed his mind before, during, and several times since the meeting had taken place. At least he'd convinced the Mayor that the town meeting didn't have to be minuted, so there was no public record of it anywhere. "Has anyone seen Teddy?" the Sheriff asked the room in general, not seeing the guard around.
"He was knocked out and dragged away earlier," his nurse replied.
"Which direction?" Rafe asked.
"They took him down that way, towards the security office," the nurse said, pointing down one of the corridors.
"Do you know where Melissa McCall is?" Rafe asked, the nurse shaking her head briefly.
Scott was nowhere in sight and Rafe had no idea which corridor he'd taken. He hesitated when he looked around the room at large and the Sheriff in particular.
"Go on, McCall; I'll deal with this. It's just a flesh wound," the Sheriff added with a grin.
Rafe nodded in thanks, picked a corridor, and hoped for the best.
...
Coming to an abrupt stop in front of the hospital - both Jade and Teresa were grateful to whoever invented seat belts - Mia was out of the car and heading to the front door. People were coming out of the doors, some looking as though they should have stayed inside the hospital for treatment, others looking as though they wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep off their nightmare. By the time Teresa managed to get her claws out of the seat, Mia was already in the hospital and Jade had disappeared from sight.
Teresa jogged into the hospital waiting room and saw the Sheriff being treated by a nurse. Mia was beside him with her notebook out, scribbling furiously and frowning at the pages, a deep line between her eyebrows.
"What're you writing?" Teresa asked, trying to read her notebook upside down unsuccessfully.
"There's a map of the hospital over there, can you bring it over?" Mia asked.
Teresa looked from Mia to the map on the wall and then back again. "You mean the giant map that's built into the wall itself?"
"There's a portable map at the triage station," a nurse said, trying not to look too amused.
"Right, that too." Teresa headed to the triage station, grabbed a small handful of maps just in case, and returned to Mia. "Here you go. Anything else?"
"Yeah; we'll need to fight our way to get into the security office. I think the Calaveras are playing everyone like rats in a maze."
Teresa grinned. "Now that I can do," she said, looking to the map to find where out exactly where the security office was.
...
Kuhle looked between Sara, Sean, and Deaton, and wondered if anything they said tonight would ever make sense. "How can a ritual go wrong?"
"The Nemeton chose him instead of letting the power return, as it was meant to do," Deaton said, sounding frustrated.
"It wasn't meant to do that at all!" Sara snapped. "The power is meant to be shared! The Nemeton knows that better than you do!"
As Sara and Deaton argued, Sean made his way across the small clearing to stand beside Kuhle. "Are you all right?" Sean asked, realising that he probably should have checked on all of the recruits before they'd left.
Kuhle frowned, looking between the Nemeton and Sean. "The Nemeton is just a tree; how did it choose anything?"
"The Nemeton is definitely more than a tree," Sean replied. "It was probably one of the first trees in this forest, and as such, all other trees in this forest are connected to it. It is both the beacon and protector of Beacon Hills, and something with that much power can certainly choose its own champion."
Kuhle considered this for a long moment. "So... why did it choose Stilinski?"
Not expecting that, Sean almost laughed. He barely refrained from doing so, and schooled his expression into something more professional. "There's more to some people than meets the eye."
...
Stiles tried not to grin too widely when he saw Tasha sidle up to Erica, while Okami went to Boyd's side, and Caleb to Allison's. He was so proud of his little pack.
Derek nudged him sharply, silently telling him with his eyebrows to concentrate and focus, and Stiles fought the urge to roll his eyes in return.
They hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Calaveras - or anyone other than the civilians in the waiting room - since they'd set foot into the hospital. It put Stiles' nerves on edge, and something niggled at the back of his mind, telling him that all of this was wrong. Now Stiles just had to work out why.
A howl pierced the air and the werewolves turned towards the source abruptly.
"Who was it?" Stiles asked, licking his lips nervously.
"Ethan," Derek replied.
"But we're following his scent, aren't we? That's the wrong way," Stiles pointed out with a frown.
"His scent goes all over the place; it could be the right way," Erica argued, folding her arms across her chest.
"Yeah, but this is the only way that both Ethan and Melissa's scent goes, right?" Stiles asked, looking between the werewolves.
"Based on the scrubs you found, yeah," Caleb said, shrugging.
"Then we continue this way. Hunters like keeping hostages together," Boyd said, his voice stern and firm.
Erica's arms fell to her sides. "Fine."
"Can we continue this conversation while we walk, honey?" Tasha asked, reminding everyone that they were standing in a hallway when they really needed to get going.
"We're getting closer, aren't we?" Allison asked as everyone continued down the hallway.
"Their scent is definitely getting stronger," Okami said with a nod.
"Stiles? What's wrong?" Derek asked, realising that he hadn't moved with the rest of the group.
"We haven't seen anyone except civilians since arriving, and the cameras are following us," Stiles said, moving from one side to another, watching as the camera in the corner followed his movement. "This whole thing is a trap."
"Then they'd better be prepared for us," Allison said, jaw clenched as she held onto her crossbow tighter.
...
Malia skidded to a stop just behind Jorge, wondering why he'd stopped suddenly. Looking over his shoulder, Malia could see the answer clearly: Ethan and Melissa were strapped to chairs and a myriad of explosives were strapped to them. Large red numbers were counting down - they had twenty minutes left.
"Fuck me."
Malia agreed entirely with Yelena's statement. Melissa and Ethan were desperately trying to communicate something, but they were gagged; Ethan had been shot with a wolfsbane bullet and didn't look like he would be much help. Melissa's eyes widened when she realised that Malia intended to come into the room and she shook her head. Malia stopped mid-step and retreated, sniffing carefully. Beside her, Jorge did the same thing, and he soon indicated to a tripwire near their feet. Malia stepped over it carefully, crossed the room, and pulled the duct tape off Melissa's mouth in a sharp motion.
She immediately spat out a damp piece of cloth and looked up to Malia, her eyes watering. "Get out of here! Run, get as many people out as you can! They've got - "
Melissa's entire body shook as the acrid scent and buzzing sound of electricity filled the air. Malia's eyes turned blue as she spun around, unsuccessfully trying to find who had electrocuted her. The buzzing noise stopped a moment later and Melissa's head hung forward, her chest heaving as she gasped for air.
"Now, now, Mrs. McCall; you don't want to spoil the surprise so soon, do you?" a voice asked.
Malia looked up to see a camera and speaker in the wall. She snarled, tempted to rip the damn things out completely, but then the voice continued.
"More of your group will be arriving soon. Feel free to discuss the situation amongst yourselves," the voice said, sounding amused.
The speaker went silent and the camera moved to face the door.
"Fucking psycho hunters is the situation!" Liam yelled.
"Isn't that a job requirement for being a hunter?"
"Not funny, Stiles," Malia snapped.
"Okay, no jokes, that's... fuck me."
"Tripwire on the doorway, there's a bomb inside, Ethan's been shot with wolfsbane, Melissa's hooked up to electricity and has already been electrocuted at least once," Yelena said, ticking everything off on her fingers.
"Fuck me," Stiles repeated for emphasis.
"I'll deal with the bomb."
"Where the fuck did you come from?!" Mason asked, his eyes widening when he saw Parrish standing further down the hallway.
"Not that I'm complaining about the view, but why are you shirtless and covered in ash?" Erica asked, a mixture of emotions from curious, amused, and confused.
Parrish ignored them both and walked into the small room, stepping over the tripwire. Looking around the room, Parrish found a pair of scissors and got to work.
"Uh, who's got the best nose? We need to see if we can find where the electric current is coming from so we can unhook Mrs. McCall," Stiles asked, looking between the group.
"Jorge's sense of smell's better than mine," Malia said distractedly, standing precariously on a chair to rip the camera right off the wall.
"Great; Jorge, you're up. Malia, take a few people to try to find the person who was talking through the speakers. See if you can find a remote to stop the bomb, just in case they've got a failsafe."
"Jackson and Isaac should've been here already," Allison murmured, frowning.
"I think they already are," Stiles said, rubbing a hand over his face. "They would've been so caught up in following Ethan's scent, they didn't stop to think things over."
There was a loud grunt from the room and they looked inside to see Jorge pulling a cord out of the wall. The buzzing electrical noise faded and a expression of pure relief fell across most of their group's faces.
"So we have five minutes to find Jackson and Isaac, disable a bomb, and... what else?" Allison asked.
"Well, we're bottle-necking ourselves in this room, there's a camera right down the hall, so I'm expecting someone to turn up with weapons sooner rather than later," Stiles muttered.
"If we go to find Isaac and Jackson, what're you going to do?" Erica asked, realising that Stiles was heading into the room with the bomb inside.
"I'm going to find out what kind of wolfsbane Ethan's been shot with and try to save his life. You can beat him up later," Stiles added over his shoulder, stepping over the tripwire.
He reached into his vest to pull out a flat vacuum-sealed package. It was separated into small compartments, each one filled with a different coloured powder: all of the wolfsbane samples that Stiles had collected from Argent - some with his knowledge - before he'd left for the FBI.
"I thought you'd found my supply," Chris muttered from the doorway.
"You found us faster than I expected," Caleb said, looking impressed.
"I followed my anchor," he said with a nod to Allison, who smiled in response.
"Where's Scott?" Stiles asked, borrowing the scissors from Parrish to cut open the first compartment in his wolfsbane package.
"He must have followed Jackson and Isaac's scents. You are all aware of the ticking bomb in the middle of the room, correct?" Peter asked.
"No shit," Liam muttered, rolling his eyes.
Ethan screamed as Stiles put another lot of wolfsbane powder in his wound, and Derek hurried to hold him down in the chair.
"Not that one either," Stiles muttered to himself, opening the next compartment.
"We'll get as many people out of the hospital as possible," Okami said, Tasha, Caleb, Mason and Liam offering to help her.
"Wait." Melissa's voice was soft, hardly more than a croak or whisper, but everyone turned their attention to her immediately. "They've got... Teddy in the... security room."
"Teddy's on tonight? Ah, shit," Stiles cursed, distracted for the moment.
"What's wrong with that? He's a civilian, isn't he?" Allison asked, frowning.
Stiles snorted. "You honestly think a civilian would choose to be the hospital's security guard? In Beacon Hills?"
"Stop with the sarcasm, Stiles; what is Teddy?" Chris snarled.
A whirring sound from the hallway distracted everyone and they looked to the cameras, confused when they saw that they were all powering off.
"Hey guys; we got the security office under control. Mia's deadly with a pen," Teresa snickered over the two-way radio.
"Shit, I forgot we had those."
Peter grabbed Chris' two-way radio. "Hello, my dear. As you have access to the cameras, would you mind telling us where the rest of our little group are being held?"
There was a moment of silence and then Mia's voice came over the radio. "Can we talk to someone who doesn't sound like a sleazy car salesman?"
Peter frowned at the radio and Derek tried not to laugh outright at his expression. "That's my Uncle Peter. Go ahead, Mia."
"Peter Hale? I thought... Never mind. The Calaveras took Agent McCall into the morgue, but they've covered the camera in there and we don't know what they're doing to him. There's another room, but no sign of Isaac and Jackson, just lots of weapons. We think they've hidden them somewhere."
"There's, like, a billion weapons. Seriously, how did they cross state lines with that stuff?" Teresa asked.
"Oh good, something to look forward to," Peter muttered.
"Is that an actual real-life bomb?"
"We can't see you, Marcie," Yelena said, nodding briefly to Mohammed and Grant.
"Oh, right, sorry. And sorry we're late, someone got lost in the forest," Marcie said, Grant turning red beside her. "So... is it a real bomb?"
"It's a real bomb; stop sounding so excited," Stiles muttered.
"Y'know, this would be a lot easier if there was silence!" Parrish snapped.
"Uh, is it meant to be doing that?" Grant asked, the pure fear in his voice, expression, and chemo signals making everyone follow his gaze to where the bomb was counting down at a faster pace: ten minutes, nine minutes, eight minutes, seven minutes, six minutes.
The timer stopped at five minutes and started to count down again at a normal pace.
"Shit. Split up into two groups: half of you rescue Isaac and Jackson - feel free to leave Jackson if you really have to," Stiles added, ignoring Ethan's groaning noise that turned into a pained whimper. " - and the other half get as many people out of this hospital as possible. Teddy can help, if he's awake in the security room."
No one had to be told twice, and soon there were five people left in the room: Ethan, Melissa, Parrish, Stiles, and Derek.
"How're you going with the wolfsbane?" Derek asked.
"Up to the sixth one so far. Next time, I'm smearing some on the outside as a sample so we can get through this quicker."
"I meant what I said about silence," Parrish said tersely.
"Then you're stuck in the wrong room with the wrong person," Stiles muttered in return.
Forcing himself to be quiet and work through the wolfsbane as fast as he dared, Stiles lit the next lot of wolfsbane and shoved it into the bullet wound. Again, nothing happened but a small whimper of pain from Ethan. Gritting his teeth - he was running out of wolfsbane; what if the Calaveras used a different strain? - Stiles opened the next compartment.
Three types of wolfsbane later, Ethan roared, his eyes turning blue as he arched off the chair, the black and purple lines retreating and black goo oozing out of the bullet wound as he healed. Derek held Ethan down so he wouldn't accidentally set off the bomb.
"You okay?" Stiles asked.
Ethan was panting just as shallowly as Melissa, but he managed a nod. "Where's Isaac? Jackson?"
"We're not sure, but the Calaveras are in the morgue. The hunters used your scent to lay false trails," Derek said.
"They're alive, right?" Ethan asked, eyes wide.
"The Calaveras will probably want to use them as bargaining chips if anything goes wrong, so they'll keep them alive," Stiles said certainly.
Ethan snarled under his breath, looking ready to rip the bomb off his chest, screw the consequences for anyone else. Derek's hands tightened on his shoulders, just in case.
"Done," Parrish said, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"Are you sure?" Stiles asked, seeing that the timer still counting down.
"Positive; it's battery operated," Parrish said, taking the timer and dislodging the batteries from the back of the small device.
He showed the frozen numbers to Stiles, who breathed a sigh of relief. Parrish hurried to remove the bombs from both Melissa and Ethan. Ethan didn't say a word, he simply broke the chair to pieces on his way out, following the signs down to the morgue.
"You're welcome!" Parrish called after him sarcastically.
Melissa stood up, slow and careful, her hands trembling. "You two find Scott for me, understood?" she said, looking to Stiles and Derek.
"Of course," Stiles said with a firm nod.
"Thank you. I'll help the others get the patients out of the hospital," Melissa said, her voice hoarse.
"You can barely stand," Derek said, frowning at her.
"I'll help you, Mrs. McCall," Parrish offered.
"Thank you, Deputy," she said with a brief smile, taking his arm.
"It's because he's not wearing a shirt, isn't it?" Stiles muttered under his breath as they left.
Derek snorted. "Come on, let's go make sure your pack's alive."
"Hey, can you scent Lydia anywhere? I haven't seen her yet. Or Tomika," Stiles added, returning the wolfsbane packet to his vest. "Or Ari or Jade. They were both pretty badly hurt; think they're okay?"
"I hope so. We'll find them as soon as we can," Derek promised.
...
End of the twenty-sixth chapter.