Hello, my lovelies. I'm so sorry for not updating in such a long time. I've been busy with work and school, but I have not given up on this story. So here is the newest installment, I hope you all enjoy.
A/N: The next several chapters might vary in POV. I know for a fact that in the next chapter it will be from Stiles' POV.
The escape from the hospital had been relatively easy, with the help of Lydia. She had offered to be a distraction so the four of them could make it passed the check in desk without being noticed. They all stopped as they came to the parking lot; Scott could feel three pairs of eyes on him.
"Which car do we pick," Stiles asked. Scott glanced down at the car keys that Lydia had given him before sneaking off to distract the orderlies. He pressed the unlock button and watched the parking lot for a flash of lights.
The car was a an old Chevy Volkswagen. Of all the cars to choose from, Lydia had chosen the one that refused to start.
"C'mon," Stiles groaned. He twisted the key in the ignition, willing it to start. Slowly, the engine sputtered to life.
"Finally," Stiles laughed, "Seventh time's the charm." He went to adjust the mirrors and the steering wheel, but Derek smacked him on the shoulder, drawing his attention towards the back window.
"We don't have time for that," Derek growled. He glanced through the rear view window. "Someone figured out we're missing."
"Shit," Stiles grumbled. Stiles put the car into reverse and hastily backed out of the parking stall. The headlights swept over two orderlies who were racing towards them, trying to grab at the door handles. As they exited the parking lot and onto the paved trail, Stiles slowed as the gates to the facility came into view.
"What about the-"
"Just keep going," Derek ordered. Stiles floored the gas pedal, causing the car to surge forward like an angry bull. The car hit the gate with a god almighty clang that sent all four of them flying out of their seats. After they had run down the gate, Stiles slowed to a stop at the junction that turned off onto the main road.
"Which way," he asked. He glanced at Derek in the rear view mirror.
"Take a left," he said, pointing in the direction.
The ride was a tedious one, Scott thought. It was obvious enough that Stiles did not know how to drive. As they drove, they kept speeding up and slowing down and several times they had veered off the road and had almost smashed into a tree.
"Stay on the fucking road, Stiles," Derek barked, clearly just annoyed as Scott, "You're going to hit a tree!" Stiles steered the car jerkily to the left, narrowly missing a tree.
"I don't need a backseat driver, Derek!"
"Then drive properly," he growled. "The last thing we need is to end up dead."
They took another series of turns before finally ending up on an isolated, backwoods road.
"Are you sure we're going the right way," Isaac asked, his eyes focused on something out the window. "It looks like we're in the middle of nowhere." Scott glanced back at Derek, who remained silent.
"Are we going the right way," Scott asked quietly.
"Yeah, we're almost there," he replied curtly, his voice low.
They continued down the road, which eventually turned into a driveway. The house seemed to appear out of thin air.
Stiles came to a sudden stop, spraying gravel everywhere as the wheels locked. He pushed the shift stick into park and flung open his door, not even bothering to shut off the engine. Scott, Derek and Isaac followed suit. Derek walked several paces ahead of Scott and the other two. He could literally see Derek's muscles tensing as each step brought him closer to the door.
The house was big and judging by the gothic, Victorian style, Scott guessed that the house was old. From what he could see in the beam of the headlights, the house was neatly maintained. Several steps led up to a large wooden door with a stain glass window. Pots of flowers stood on either side of the door.
For a brief moment, the four of them stood at the door, silent. Scott watched as Derek took a deep breath before grasping the door knocker. He rapped the knocker sharply several times on the wood of the door and waited.
The door opened slowly, revealing a girl about Scott's age. She was about his height, perhaps a bit shorter, and had long dark hair that went just past her shoulders. He assumed she was Derek's sister; the two of them had the same face shape and the same stern expression. She glanced at the four of them and upon seeing Derek, Scott saw her shoulders tense.
A moment of shock passed through both Derek and the girl's face before she began to swing the door shut. Derek stepped forward, jamming his foot in the door. The girl's face twisted into a irritated expression as she struggled to close the door.
"Leave Derek," she hissed sharply. "Or I'll call the police." Scott saw Derek flinch at her words, but he refusing to remove his foot from the door.
"Cora," he said gently, "Is Peter here?" His voice was subdued, calm, as though he was talking to a scared animal.
Reluctantly, Cora opened up the door, backing away as the four of them stepped over the threshold of the door.
Spotting the four of them, Scott saw Peter's eyes widen in surprise. Clearly, he had not anticipated his family member breaking out of the insane asylum.
"Derek, what are you and your friends doing here?"
"We need to talk to you."
Scott could see a glitter of concern in Peter's eyes, but it quickly vanished. He ushered the four of them into the living room. The room was elegant looking; sparsely furnished, but the furniture looked expensive. Scott and the others managed to squish together on one sofa. Peter sat himself into an armchair. Cora perched herself on the arm of the armchair, her eyes glaring daggers at Derek.
"What is it you wanted to talk about," Peter asked, getting straight to the point. The four of them silently exchanged glances, urging someone to step forward and talk. Seeing that it was his house, Derek nodded and got up to his feet.
"They've been hurting us," Derek exclaimed. Peter sighed and glanced at the four of them with sympathetic eyes.
"Derek, the Electroshock might hurt, but it is legal. The doctors-"
"Not the Electroshock," Derek growled, "There were other things Dr. Morrell did…She left scars." He stood up suddenly and yanked his shirt over his head. He took a step forward towards Peter, showing him the scars that littered his torso and arms.
"Can you help us," Scott asked. "We need to show that they're being unethical."
"And you think I can help," Peter asked.
"You have friends in law enforcement and in. the media," Derek exclaimed. "Can't you do something?" Scott could sense the desperation in Derek's voice.
Peter sighed, his expression rather weary. "I would help you in a heartbeat, Derek…but you don't have any proof that these doctors are performing the acts that you say they are. Let's just say that your words aren't exactly in favor of being heard." What Peter was saying was rational. It was just like what Scott had been discussing with Isaac; no one would believe in crazy people.
"What if we can get proof and give it to you…Will you help us then?" There was a very pregnant pause.
"Of course," Peter replied, "I'll do my absolute best to help you, but only if you get some proof that these doctors are abusing you and other patients."
There was a collective sigh between the four of them. At last, Scott thought, someone who believed them.
"Now, if I were you four, I would head back to the hospital. I think that returning of your own free will could do you some good. "
Upon their return to the hospital, they were greeted at the front doors by six orderlies, Dr. Barrow and Dr. Blake. Unlike the orderlies, she was out of work clothes, and instead was wearing pajama bottoms and a tank top underneath a blue, fuzzy bathrobe. Barrow, however, still wore a white coat over his button down shirt and slacks.
"What is the meaning of this," Dr. Blake demanded, her lips pulling down into a frown. "Joy riding in the middle of the night; I demand an explanation!"
The four of them exchanged glances before turning their eyes to the ground. They would not let Dr. Blake or Dr. Barrow know what their purpose had been for a midnight joy ride.
"We came back on our own accord," Stiles piped up, "That should count for something." Dr. Blake's stern expression softened, her eyes sad.
"I suppose that is a good thing," she replied softly, "But I can't let this go without consequence." She exchanged a look with Dr. Barrow before turning back to the four of them. She sighed heavily.
"The four of you, for the time being, are to be contained on the secure ward, where you will be under surveillance 24/7. The stunt you pulled tonight was very foolish, and if another escape attempt goes underway between the four of you, I will personally see that you are all separated and put in different facilities. Is that understood?" The four of them nodded in unison, silent. Dr. Blake nodded firmly and wrapped the bathrobe tightly around her. She turned to Dr. Barrow. "Will you escort them up to the secure ward," she asked politely. Dr. Barrow nodded.
"Of course," he replied, "You may return home."
Once Dr. Blake had returned to her car, the four of them were flanked by orderlies and escorted towards the elevators with Dr. Barrow leading the way. Now that the excitement of their night excursion had faded, Scott felt guilty; he had managed to get himself as well as his friends in trouble. This whole thing was his fault.
"I'm really sorry, guys. This is my entire fault," he whispered, voicing his thoughts.
"Whatever man," Stiles muttered, "That was the most fun I had in months. I'd do it again any day."
"Yeah, same here," Isaac said quietly. Derek just nodded.
They were herded into the elevator, two orderlies on each side of them and taken up to the second floor.
As they exited the elevators onto the second floor, Scott could only wonder how Lydia had managed to get out of the secure ward in the first place. After exiting the elevator, they were led down a hall and stopped short by a grated gate with an orderly that stood at attention on the other side. And after that, there was another checkpoint, where they had to wait to be buzzed through again.
Once they were buzzed through both gates, they turned down a hall that was lined with doors. The doors that lined this hall had windows that allowed the orderlies to view the patient in the room. One by one, Scott watched his friends disappear into the rooms. He was led down to the end of the hall and shoved into the room on the left side. He heard the lock on the door click into place. He peered out the small window, trying to see as far as possible down the hall.
The lights went off suddenly, leaving him standing there in the dark.
He paced the room angrily before stopping and glancing out the window that overlooked the surrounding forest. There was no way he was getting out of here tonight, not unless he was Lydia; she seemed to know a secret way to get around the hospital without being detected.
Feeling suddenly exhausted, Scott dropped onto the bed; the least he could was try and get some sleep.
He was abruptly woken to someone shaking him by the shoulder. Blearily, Scott cracked open his eyes and blinked several times. In the dim lighting, he could see someone tall standing over him. As he cleared the sleep from his eyes, he recognized the uniform that orderlies wore.
"Get up," the orderly demanded.
"What's going on," Scott asked, thoroughly confused. It was the middle of the night; what could he have possibly done wrong now?
"Get up," the orderly demanded again. When Scott still remained seated, the orderly grabbed him harshly by the elbow, pulling him to his feet.
Scott pulled his arm free and took a step back. The orderly's body posture made Scott feel intimidated, as though he should be on the defense. He glanced briefly at the door that led out to the hall. He bolted for the door, hoping that'd he'd be able to slip through the small opening before the orderly could nab him. No such luck.
He was tackled to the ground with such a force he bit his tongue as his chin struck the floor; he could taste blood in his mouth. Realizing that struggling was futile, Scott went limp; the orderly that had tackled him was at least a head taller with a good seventy pounds against him. Keeping Scott's hands pinned behind his back, the orderly hoisted him onto his feet and pushed him out into the hall, where Barrow stood waiting. The smile that he wore on his face made a shiver crawl down Scott's spine. Barrow leaned in close so that his face was inches away from Scott's.
"You certainly seem like trouble, Mr. McCall," Barrow said quietly. "Escaping with three other patients in tow…I'm guessing you're the one that orchestrated the entire event. Am I right?" Scott pursed his lips, suppressing the urge to spit on the man. At the lack of response, Barrow smiled.
"Hmm, tight lipped, are we?" His smiled widened. "I think I can fix that for you, Scott."
He was led down to the elevators and up to the third floor. Dr. Barrow slowed as they came to stand in front of the locked door Scott had seen when he had met with Dr. Blake. He watched as Barrow used a key card and a pass code before the light on the electronic lock turned green, the door opening with a click.
Dr. Barrow held open the door, a smile slowly crawling upon his face. A shiver ran along Scott's spine as he was pushed into the room. The lights flickered on slowly, revealing the room a little bit at a time. In the middle of the room was a leather chair that resembled a dentist's chair, except this chair had leather straps where the wrists and ankles would be. A rolling metal tray lined with surgical instruments stood next to the chair. Cupboards with glass doors lined the length of two walls revealed numerous bottles of pills and liquids.
Scott felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end. He knew that whatever happened to him in this room was going to be unpleasant.
Before he could even make a full turnaround he felt the jab of a needle in his upper arm. Before he could even react, Scott felt a wave of dizziness come over him as the drug quickly took effect. He swayed on his feet unsteadily before pitching forward, hitting the ground hard.
His vision blurred and dimmed before suddenly going black, throwing him into the abyss of unconsciousness.
A/N: Ooh, cliff hanger. What do you think is going to happen? Post your thoughts in the comments section; I'd like to hear what you're all thinking. The inspiration for this story has momentarily fled, but I am determined to finish it. If you have any ideas for what you would like to see happen to Scott and company, post the idea if you like. I'd appreciate a little help.