Fireball || Derek Hale [1]

21. Wu Tang Forever

"Welcome back to the light of the conscious," Deaton says aloud causing me to jolt in my seat. I sat up, looking around and yawning as my gaze fell upon Scott who was just not standing up. He seemed to just wake up as Deaton got near him. He placed a hand on Scott's chest and my eyes drifted towards the bandage which now has a small patch of blood.

"You doing okay?" I said, my voice thick with sleep as I stretched my muscles. The joints in my arms popped and I scrunched my face, definitely not the best nights sleep.

"Maybe you should sit down," Deaton tell him as Scott still appears to be processing what happened last night. Hell, I'm still processing getting shot 17th century style. At least it healed when it did, I couldn't handle dealing with that much pain right now. My neck was hurting from it being cramped.

I go to say something, most likely," sit the fuck down," when from the front of the clinic the little bells atop the door jingle signaling someone has walked in which is strange considering its still very early in the morning.

Deaton goes to walk towards the front when Scott grabs onto him, warning him. I listen closely and my eyes widen. Deaton seems strangely calm considering the reaction both werewolves have just had.

"I'm sorry but we are closed," he greets the person as Scott grabs my arm and leads me towards the furthest corner from the open door. Scott stands in front of me, tilting his head asking if I knew who was outside. I nod silently.

"Hi there," Peters creep voice says," I'm here to pick up."

I roll my eyes, yeah you're here to pick up your damn teeth if you attempt to come near us again.

"I'm not sure I remember you dropping off," Deaton answers not kissing a beat.

"These two wandered in on their own," Peter says, the double meaning clear in his voice. I'll be damned if this asshole calls me an animal.

"Even if they did I'm afraid I can't help you, we are closed," Deaton says forcefully.

"Oh I think you can make an exception this one time," Peter says, and I gulp worrying for Deaton.

"I'm sorry that's not going to be possible, maybe you could come back regular hours." Deaton warns him.

"You have something of mine," Peters voice gets much darker," I'm here to collect them."

"Like I said," Deatons voice firm," we're closed."

It's silent for a moment, fingernails scratching against wood for a moment before Peters humorless laugh sounds all the way into the back," mountain ash. That's an old one."

He picks something up quickly, throwing it somewhere that it crashes against.

"Let me be as clear as possible," Deaton states, sounding so calm but firm," we are closed. "

It seems like Peter goes to leave, until he stops to whisper," there are others who can help me get what I want. More innocent, and far more vulnerable."

My breath hitches inside my throat, Scott going to whisper the first person that comes to mind," Allison."

But I don't don't think of her, I think of Stiles, Lydia, and Jackson.

He will go after my best friends if it means getting me like Scott.

----

"Call it again," Scott says, ransacking his room as I lay on his bed. His big lacrosse hoodie is once again wrapped around me as I try to get some sleep with the disaster going on around me. Stiles sighs, taking his fingers away from playing with my hair.