GROWING PAINS , scott mccall

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 , perishable

perishable

Darby Blake and Melissa McCall followed their teenage children into the McCall house, each of them sighing as they collapsed into the chairs of the dining table, exhausted from the day they'd had. They knew this wasn't the end of the facade they had played today, there were questions, a lot of them, especially from Dr. Geyer. The two of them were medical miracles. The man couldn't fathom how both teenagers had been declared dead, only to be fine, walking around in a perfect state only less than an hour later. He had insisted the two of them come back for tests tomorrow, hoping to determine what had caused their proposed death, for now, he suggested sleep, and a lot of it, though neither Scott nor Noelle were too eager to get back to the nightmares they were having before they come back to life. 

Noshiko had warned them of the bad dreams, but bad seemed like an understatement. One had seen her dead brother again, in a corpse-like, horrifying state, and one had envisioned himself as a killer, murdering his own beta, a fifteen-year-old boy who he only wanted to protect. Perhaps it was showing them their fears. Scott becoming a killer, and Noelle's fear of death. 

Both of them, as well as Peyton lay their heads down on the table, wanting to fight sleeping, but it didn't take long for the three exhausted teenagers to slip off into a comfortable, dreamless nap under the close supervision of Melissa and Darby. As tired as the two of them were, as scarred as they were by having to see their children dead and shed those tears, the two couldn't quite bear to stop looking at their children yet. The two sat in silence, watching them, feeling more grateful than ever for what they had created. 

"We really got lucky, didn't we?" Darby whispered as she turned to the nurse beside her.

Melissa nodded with a smile on her face. "They're great kids..." She agreed. "And so, so strong. I just... I don't know how they do it." She admitted, even after seeing them go through the things they had herself, she still couldn't fathom how well they handled it all, how they persevered, or how they still seemed to have so much faith in a life that had put them through hell.

"Does she talk about it with you?" Darby asked suddenly. "The things she's been through? With the vault? Camila? Her father dying?" She elaborated, Melissa shook her head, wishing she could give the woman some advice on how to support her daughter with everything she had endured, she wished she could support the girl more than she had. "I'm sure she will come around. It's all still new. It's only been a few months since she got out of there, I think she still needs more time to adjust." The McCall woman explained, Darby nodded in understanding. "But I know she's glad you're here, and I don't want to overstep, but I think you're doing a great job, this can't be easy for you either."

"They make it easier." Darby smiled as she looked at her two sleeping daughters. 

Three teenagers stood before Sheriff Stilinski with anxious looks across their faces, waiting for a sign that he had understood what they had just told him. They never enjoyed this, explaining the latest supernatural happening to him, it never seemed to go well, the man was always left either confused or in complete and utter disbelief. Because they knew themselves that the things they told him didn't sound real, it shocked even them sometimes. Sometimes what they told him had even led to a lecture about their behavior, like the time they snuck off to Mexico. He still hadn't let his son or the girl who was like a daughter to him live that down, they weren't sure that Noah ever would, from now on, all trips would require a tracker on the Jeep. Maybe even a chaperone. Anything to ensure they didn't pass the border and enter some supernatural age-altering church in the desert. But secret overnight trips to Mexico didn't bring them here now, somehow, it was a lot worse than that, a lot more insane than age regression.