VIII. Truth or Dare

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Scott gulps from the other line, and I can hear rustling from something in his room, probably papers.

"What? How do you know?" Scott's tone is unbelieving.

"I...It was just a feeling," Crawling out of my bed, I look through some drawers to find something warmer to wear.

"I thought banshees could sense when someone's going to die, not when someone's supposed to be dead but is alive!" There's a sound of a window closing, and a vibration of impact, probably from landing on the ground.

"You know, all houses have doors, Scott,"

"My mom hears everything. She stopped letting me out of the house a week ago...I think it's so I can stop missing school."

"Well, I would hope this is urgent enough to bend the rules,"

"Definitely."

"I'll talk to you in a minute." I put my key into the ignition, and start driving.

"Wait where are we meeting?" Scott asks.

"The Animal Clinic...Where we always start." I hang up, and try to concentrate on the road. My energy is faltering, since it's 2am, but a memory from last year keeps me awake.
Stiles takes my hand and plays with the tangled red yarn I'm holding.
"Look, if you wanted to, I'd go back to that school right now, and search all night just to prove it,"
I sigh to myself, remembering that it was always Stiles and I that did the investigating way back when...a few months ago, really. But it feels longer than that. And things are different now. We don't talk. He has a girlfriend that isn't me.
My phone is buzzing, so I glance at the caller. It's Stiles. Should I tell him about his mom? She seems to be in some kind of danger...she's in Beacon Hills. She did ask me to tell him. But I can't do it. I know he wouldn't believe me until he saw her with his own eyes. I know for a fact that Scott is still skeptical that Stiles' mom is alive. I'll let Scott tell him. They're closer anyway...now.
I pull up to the clinic and and get out of my car, my navy blue pumps clicking on the asphalt.
Where is Scott? I'm looking around, and I'm in the complete darkness by myself.
When I see the light from Scott's motorcycle emerging from some trees, I reflexively sigh with relief.

"Okay, so what do we do now?" He asks once he's dismounted his motorcycle.

"I don't know, let's just take a walk around the premises, so we can make sure nothing's here."

"You don't know? We are going off nothing! Are you sure this is really happening?" He sighs, then starts walking with me to the back of the clinic. I turn on my phone flashlight, and hope it's bright enough to protect us from danger.

"Listen to me, Scott. I. Just. Know."

"You didn't sound that sure earlier on the phone,"

"Stop with the negative, McCall."

"Yes m'am," He replied sarcastically.

"This is only going to work if we both believe Claudia's in Beacon Hills somewhere." I suddenly remembered that Claudia is Stiles's mother. "Did you call Stiles?"

"What? I thought you were going to call him?"

"We're not on speaking terms,"

"Does it matter? I think this is beyond that!" He stopped next to an oak tree, and turned his head to look me in the eye.

"Scott?! Then you tell him! You're brothers after all, at least that's what you told me,"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Okay. I completely trust you. But what if this is just another lie? What if Stiles doesn't believe me? This is his mom we're talking about. Can't we just wait until we find her, and then tell him? Then we'll know for sure it's fine to say anything."
While he's lecturing me, I get flashes of vision from someone else's eyes. There's white tile, a gurney, blue latex gloves, and white, paint-peeling walls. I tell Scott what I see, and he freezes.

"She has to be in here," he points to the clinic right next to us. "It looks just like that inside. And if you wanted to start here, she must be here, right?"

"You've got a point." I look inside the building through a window, and everything is dark. I sigh in defeat.

"Don't give up yet," Scott tells me, dredging his pockets for something.

"Here they are...I've got keys!" He unlocks the doors, and we walk in. We turn on the lights, and search the whole place, even the closets. There's nothing here.
But then I remember a year ago when I was hospitalized. When Peter attacked me at the dance. The walls were peeling paint like that too, and the tile seems familiar to what I saw when I was there.

"Scott, we've been looking at this all wrong...I think she's at the hospital."

He shrugs, and turns around. "Okay. Whatever you say. I guess."

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