How hard could it be? • LM / SS

Chapter 18

                            "Can't we be 17?"

Yawning, Jade rested her head on the car window. She was sitting in the back, with Scott on the other side. Derek was in the drivers seat and Max was sitting in the front, having practically ran to get there.

Stiles' father had rang him, ranting on because of how late it was, which was a valid excuse.

The Hale had regained some colour in his face, thankfully not looking as pale as what he previously had. The group were on their way to Beacon Hills hospital. Why, they had no idea. That much they hadn't been told yet.

Derek had kind of died in the animal clinic and then came back to life, the bullet saving him. Scott had told the man that if he didn't leave them alone from now on, he would go back to Chris Argent and tell him everything. Personally, the twins thought that was the stupidest thing they'd heard in a long time. He said that the Argent was a lot nicer than Derek, which now led them all to be headed to the hospital. He said that he was going to show them exactly how nice the Argent's were, whatever that meant.

The group pulled up outside of the building. Dragging herself out of the car, Jade followed the rest of them into the hospital.

Derek seemed to know exactly where he was going, leading the way swiftly through the corridors and up a flight of stairs. Finally, he stopped outside of a door on the left. He quietly opened the door, gesturing for the others to follow him.

The room was small, with a window that was the only source of light. Wrinkling her nose, she also noticed that it smelled strongly of cleaning products.

In the middle of the room, a man was sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair, staring blankly at the wall opposite him. Only half of his face was visible. He seemed as if he was almost in a trance, his eyes not focusing. Immediately, Jade had a bad feeling about whoever he was. A gut feeling.

"Who is that?" Scott asked cautiously.

Derek paused briefly before answering, pursing his lips. "My uncle. Peter Hale."

"Is he a werewolf?" Max questioned instantly. He assumed that he was, considering nearly all of the Hale's were werewolves.

"He was. Now he's barely even human," he nodded.

Jade opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but the Hale continued talking, not noticing that the teens were confused. "Six years ago, my sister and I were at school. Our house caught fire. There was eleven people inside there. He was the only survivor."

Feeling a pit form in the bottom of her stomach, she didn't ask the question she was wanting to ask. She was too afraid of the answer, not wanting to deal with anymore grief. Was Cora Hale one of the eleven people?

"What makes you so sure they were the ones who set the fire?" Scott challenged, folding his arms across his chest. If it was the Argent's, wouldn't they have been arrested by now?

"Cause they're the only ones who knew about us," he replied bitterly.

"Then they had a reason."

Jade raised her eyebrows, shocked by the words that came out of her cousins mouth. She couldn't believe that he had seriously just said that. What happened to having some sensitivity?

"Like what? You tell me what justifies this," Derek said angrily. He grabbed the back of the chair that his uncle was sitting in and spun it around to face them.

Jade jumped back slightly, her nails digging into her palm. The other half of Peter's face that they hadn't been able to see was covered in burns, the flesh almost looking like it had melted off.