𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐫, m. tate & i. lahey

𝟎𝟏𝟕. men in masks

ANCHOR

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"IT WASN'T US," Malia blurts as she turns to see a group of five people storming the basement. Tears stain both her and Allison's faces, the reflection from the lights above them making them more visible to everyone.

Deaton rushes to Tracy, while Scott briefly pauses to scan Allison's body for any injuries. When he finds nothing, Scott places himself beside Deaton on the floor.

Isaac, Stiles, and the Sheriff appear in front of the two girls, concerned and bewildered at their disoriented state. "What the hell happened to her?" Stiles' father asks sharply.

The dirty blond's hand somehow finds its way to Malia's bicep, and her fingers latch onto his forearm. "There were these people. They had masks, um— There... there were... th—three of them! I... I— there were three."

"What... what're you talking about?" Stiles questions, barely able to understand the werecoyote through her stuttering.

"They were strong, Stiles," Allison voices. She struggles to contain the sobs and jerks of her chest. "They had a weapon—"

"We didn't do this!"

"Hey, Lia. It's okay," Isaac's tone raises only slightly to get Malia to listen. However, the veterinarian interrupts him before he can begin.

"She's not changing back. We're going to need to get her out of here."

Stilinski's attention snaps over to the man quickly. "What—? Hey! Absolutely not. This is a crime scene," he argues. "We call the coroner."

"I think the coroner might be very confused by this girl's severed reptilian tail."

"I don't care!" the Sheriff bites sternly.

Deaton's expression remains blank, and his voice keeps a calm and moderate level. "You should. Unless you're prepared to hold a press conference announcing the presence of supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills."

"Dad, he's right," Stiles says.

"Maybe at the Clinic we can figure out how to change her back, then call the coroner?" Scott suggests, his brows raised upwards out of stress.

Stiles' father paces around the basement. "There is a line— there is a line that we have to draw..."

"Dad, you've already crossed it," the teenage boy reminds him. "More than once."

Malia steps closer to the wall for support, her palms pressing against the concrete as tears continue to cloud her vision. However, they are not enough to block out the sight of the corpse lying merely a few feet from her.

Isaac follows, and he hesitantly reaches for Malia's hand. She flinches at first, then eventually allows him to connect and lace their fingers together. The boy gives her a gentle squeeze— trying to comfort her through whatever feelings she's having right now.

"Sheriff, please. Let me help," Deaton requests in a pleasing tone. "I've dealt with things like this before."

Stilinski pauses, still wanting to resist the veterinarian's assistance. Until he finally gives in. "Just do it fast."

Scott and Deaton immediately hoist Tracy off the ground by her armpits and ankles, shuffling out of the basement and up the staircase. Stiles looks at his father with sympathy, who tugs at his hair with clenched teeth, before turning to go to the main floor.