Bane of My Existence

Wolfsbane

Stiles clamors down the front steps of Scott's house.

"He's not in there."

He climbs back in to the car while they all think for a moment.

"Where else could he be?" Lydia asks.

Celia sits up straight.

"The animal clinic. Maybe he's at work?"

Scott hears them pull up, meeting them outside. His hair slick with sweat and his body tense.

"You guys aren't going to believe this."

—

"One more time." Stiles says, looking for clarification for about the fifth time.

"A wolf?"

Deaton nods.

"Werewolf."

"What do you mean?"

Stiles laughs, Lydia, Celia and Scott watching him spiral.

"I gotta give it to you Scott, this is funny! And to get Deaton in on it? That is dedication!" His laugh turns manic.

"Stiles, come here." Celia says softly, extending her arms to him.

Deaton surveys the group quietly. Scott telling them that he didn't believe it either, at first. His symptoms over the last few days left him disoriented and irritable. Only when he came into work, the dogs in their kennels barking like mad, did he mention it to Deaton.

"So the immediate conclusion was... a mythical creature?" Lydia asks.

Stiles tilts his head, not a bad question.

"Guys, I need you behind me on this. You didn't see it- me. It happened."

"We believe you." Celia says, the other two narrowing their eyes.

Scott offers a weak smile as Deaton produces a leather bound book, and begins telling them all they need to know.

— —

Into about the third hour of Deaton answering their incessant questions, Celia excuses herself.

"Celia-" Scott catches her in the hallway.

She turns to face him.

"You do believe me, right?"

She swallows, unsure herself.

"I know you wouldn't lie. And Deaton doesn't strike me as someone who'd find humor in this as an elaborate prank."

Scott laughs, reassured. As he turns to leave Celia wavers in the bathroom doorway. Gripping onto the frame, she can't manage to get the door open before she slumps to the ground.

"Celia?" Scott's voice is distant and distorted, like she's underwater.

Her focus on the hallway around her turns to a blinding white.

"Celia!"

A panicked male voice yells for her, hidden in the blank terrain.

"Celia, please!"

Celia spins searching in the direction of the disembodied voice.

"Where are you?" She calls back.

She takes a few steps forward when he speaks again, this time, directly behind her.

"Here."

As she turns to him he grabs her by the wrist, pulling her down. When she opens her eyes she's sat beside a bed, in a hospital. Connected to IVs and monitors, the face belonging to the voice is partially covered. With sudden urgency, he begins ripping off the wires connected to and snaking through his veins, keeping him alive.