I N S T I N C T | Jackson Whittemore

15: (don't) trust me

(Don't) Trust Me
Chapter Fifteen

Annie watched as her father and their team drove off to pick up Gerard. They told her to stay with Deaton and watch Bennett. As soon as their headlights were out of view, she turned back to Deaton, sighing in relief, "Thank you."

Suddenly, the back door opened, and Scott walked in holding his bleeding side. He had just gotten into a fight with Derek and his pack at the ice rink... a fight that he lost. Boyd was a werewolf now. He lifted up his shirt to see the gashed open wound, and he cringed, "Why aren't I healing?"

"Because it's from an Alpha's claws," Annie remarked, seeing the size and the placement of the large gash in Scott's side. She looked back at Bennett as Scott eyed the body.

Deaton inhaled, "Maybe we should have that talk now..."

* * *

Deaton grabbed Scott by the arm and pulled him over to a medical tray where he dabbed running alcohol on a cotton swab. Annie shook her head, "They're coming back soon, so we don't have much time..."

Deaton began to dab the wound with the medicine, and Scott flinched, "What is that?"

"Rubbing alcohol..." Deaton smirked, "you don't want it to get infected. You will heal the same, just not as quickly, because of Derek."

"Okay... How do you know all of this? Actually, how do you—how do you know anything?" Scott panted as Deaton gulped.

"It's a long story. What I can tell you, is that I know about your kind. Your kind... I can help." Deaton said, turning and pointing at Bennett, "This... This is something different."

Annie raised her eyebrows, "So, do you know what did it? I've been a hunter for two years now, and I've never see claw marks like that."

"No..." Deaton shook his head. "But your family might, and this is the crucial part, they'll have a record or a book. It'll have descriptions, histories, notations... of all the things that they've discovered."

"All the things?" Scott perked up, "How many different things are there?"

Annie eased her eyes on Scott as she heard her father's squeaky brakes pull up outside. She immediately looked at Deaton who pushed Scott into the storage closet, meanwhile she pulled on a pair of blue, latex gloves and acted as if she had been examining Bennett's wounds.

Her father, Chris, Sam, and Gerard all walked into the clinic. Gerard nodded and smiled to Annie, telling her hello, before turning back to Deaton. Deaton stared at the group, arms crossed over his chest, "I'm starting to think I might need to buy a more prominent closed sign."

"Hello, Alan," Gerard greeted him, "it's been a while. The last I heard, you had retired."

Deaton scoffed, "Last I heard, you followed a code of conduct..."

"If you hadn't noticed, this body is one of our own," Sam scoffed.

Deaton turned back to Annie, who looked up at her family before returning to examining the man's wounds. Deaton smiled, "I did, I also noticed the gunpowder residue on his fingertips. So don't assume I will be swayed by your philosophy, just because I answer a few questions."

"He was only 24," Kyle glared at Deaton.

"Killers can come in all ages."

"All ages, sizes, and shapes..." Gerard spoke out, "It's the last one that concerns us."

Kyle looked back at his daughter, then to Deaton, "Why don't you just show us what you guys found..."

Annie gulped as she moved the man's head to the side to reveal a small, intentional cut on the back of his neck, right above the spine. "See this cut? It's precise," she looked up at everyone, "almost... surgical, but this isn't the wound that killed him. This had a more interesting purpose."