Return of the Hale || Stiles Stilinski

13

It was the evening of the next day as Derek and Braeden walked into the Animal Clinic after leaving a few hours ago to check on a few things. Stiles had left—even though he really didn't want to—to help Lydia find the next key word. And Scott had visited three times during the day, even with his mom who turned into a mess when she saw Neriah's state.

"Anything new?" Derek asked Deaton, sitting down on one of the chairs Stiles had dragged into the room during the night.

Deaton gravely shook his head, looking down at Neriah who Melissa had changed into new clothes. "Every now and then she'll take in a deep breath and sip from a blood bag that I put up to her mouth, but she hasn't woken up."

"What about the wounds?" Braeden asked, standing beside Derek with her arms crossed over her chest. "Have they healed?"

Deaton nodded, looking at them. "Her legs have almost fully healed but the wounds on her chest are still struggling."

Derek sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "Why the hell did she have to come back to protect my ass? I should've been the one protecting her."

Braeden sat down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know her well, but I know you and by the sounds of it, she's just like you. You both care deeply for the ones you love, and I know you both care deeply about each other." Derek lifted his head up, staring at Neriah. "She decided to come back, knowing what Beacon Hills is like. Don't blame yourself for this, Derek."

"I've failed her countless times in the past," he gravely whispered, looking at her. "I failed her again."

Deaton stayed quiet, starting to pull a blanket over Neriah's body, only to stop as a hand tightly grabbed his wrist. Derek shot up to his feet within seconds with Braeden, the both of them watching Neriah weakly drop her hand.

"Derek," Neriah whispered, her eyes slowly opening. But they closed shut at the sudden bright light above her. "Where's Derek?"

"Right here," Derek breathed, appearing at her side in seconds.

Neriah turned her head, squinting her eyes as they focused on a pale Derek. "What happened?"

"You were attacked," Derek informed her, watching closely as winced. "Do you remember what happened with the assassin?"

"A little," she admitted, trying to sit up only to groan and stay lying down on the table. "I remember being on the phone to you when a car crashed into me—wait, my car."

"We had to get rid of it," Braeden said, stopping beside Derek as Neriah looked at her. "But don't worry, I arranged another car for you to use until you can get a new one."

"Thank you," Neriah whispered with a faint smile before looking at Deaton. "Please tell me why my chest is burning, and why my legs are throbbing."

"The blade used to stab you was covered in vervain," he explained, grabbing a blood bag. "Most of the vervain is out of your system and you should be healed soon. Same for your legs that were crushed on impact."

Neriah's eyes widened. "The Dead Pool," she breathed. "I-I remember the man. He had on a mask, and I...I killed him."

"Don't worry." Derek grabbed her hand. "Braeden helped me get rid of the body and evidence, okay? Nothing will come back to you."

Neriah nodded and then looked around the room again, looking for her two best friends. "Where's Scott and Stiles?"

"Stiles stayed here all night and Scott kept visiting through the day," Deaton said, giving Neriah the blood bag. "But Stiles went with Lydia to figure out more about her grandmother who could've been a Banshee that is possibly alive and helping The Benefactor."