It's Just a Pull

XXVI

You're gripping the 'oh shit' handle of Stiles's Jeep for dear life as it barrels down the road. The police lights in front of the car are giving you a headache, as is the police jargon coming through the radio.

Stiles is following every single word of it, even as he weaves in and out of traffic, staying hot on the Sheriff's tail. Stiles takes one hand off the wheel to grip the microphone attachment of his police radio.

"All units stay back; do not engage. I repeat," he emphasizes, "do not engage."

The radio crackles and the Sheriff's voice comes over the line. "Stiles, get off the radio." There's a pause, then he reluctantly repeats: "All unit alert: Wait for backup. Repeat: No one goes near this thing."

You miss the next few things the radio says over your nausea and impending migraine. When Stiles said you'd be keeping an ear on the police scanners, you assumed it would just be recon, not a high-speed chase through Beacon Hills.

"It's headed back for the hospital," Stiles says, breaking through the rushing in your head. He grabs the radio again, "Dad-"

"Stiles, get off this channel!"

"Dad, just listen to me, okay? It's headed for the hospital, all right? He's headed for Beacon Memorial. You hear me? It's headed for the hospital."

You grip the handle tighter as Stiles shifts gears, speeding faster toward the hospital.

---

You follow the Sheriff through the crowds of people evacuating the hospital. You're only a few steps behind Scott and Stiles, who are standing still as Scott tries to figure out where the Beast is.

"Fourth floor," Scott whispers, and the four of you make your way up the stairs. You already have a pentagram scrawled onto each of your palms, shield charms cast and hugging you and Stiles like a bubble.

When you enter the fourth-floor hallway, you're almost immediately stopped by the sight of your brother flying backward toward you on fire. He bounces off the wall next to you and lands in a heap at your feet.

"Parrish, you okay?" The Sheriff asks.

Jordan pulls himself up into a seated position, hands tapping over injuries as they smoke and begin to heal. You kneel at his side, trying to help in any way that you can, but you know virtually nothing about Hellhounds or even what kind of magic they're receptive to.

Jordan continues to stare into the middle distance, eyes glowing orange as you take in the claw marks across his chest.

"Jordan," you whisper, hand resting gently on his shoulder.

"Deputy," Sheriff Stilinski says sternly.

This snaps Jordan out of his haze, and he looks around, obviously disoriented.

"You're okay," you whisper, rubbing quick circles into Jordan's bare shoulder. He's smoking a little still, but the shield charm is keeping you from getting burned.

"(Y/n)," Scott says, visibly shaken, "come look at this."

You rise and move to stand between him and Stiles. They're looking at the Beast's bloody pawprints, but that's not what's worrying.

The pawprints change into bloody sneaker prints about halfway down the hallway.

"Oh my god," you whisper, reaching blindly for Stiles. "It's a kid."

---

"There's four steps: we get into Eichen, we get into the closed unit, we get Lydia, we get out," Stiles says, and the room stays quiet in disbelief.