Violent Creatures ➣ Teen Wolf

47;

47; Salvage

The cup of coffee remained untouched in front of El, now cold from the hours since the nurse had offered it to her. She hadn't wanted to refuse, not when they were responsible for keeping her brother alive. The least she could do was act kind even though she had little energy to truly express it.

Paul lay in the hospital bed beside her chair, engulfed in a mass of blankets and pillows to keep him as comfortable as possible. Though she supposed he was too deep in his haze of pain killers to notice their efforts. He'd been asleep since the doctors and nurses had whisked him away on a gurney, calling out his visible wounds and shouting for supplies.

It had taken everything to keep from running after them to ensure he was safe and not alone. It had taken two security guards to keep Joey from barging into the ICU. He carried a heavier guilt, as a soon to be doctor himself he should have known better. He shouldn't have allowed Paul to convince him he could wait to get help.

The consequence of that decision lay subdued in a medicated sleep. Paul had never looked so small before, so fragile. His breaths came in long exhales, aided by the machine circulating oxygen up his nose. The impact of the airbags had crushed his chest, any harder and his ribs would have punctured his lungs.

The doctor attending him hadn't held back in listing off his plethora of injuries. A level three concussion, two fractured ribs, and deep bruising and lacerations to much of his body. Extensive but not life threatening. That relief had been short lived.

"He has other signs of past injury that we find concerning. Major scaring to the torso, contusions in various stages including some bruising to the bone, indications of healed breaks in the left leg and two in the right arm, and cuts and swelling to the face consistent with fighting. These injuries suggest trauma inflicted over months and years."

El couldn't think of a lie quick enough and that momentary silence until Joey spoke up seemed to confirm whatever suspicions the doctor had. It was apparent that she didn't buy Joey's explanation that Paul was a martial arts fighter, it wasn't a complete lie. More of a half-truth.

"Then I will tell you the same thing I told him. He needs to stop these activities immediately. His body can't heal as fast as it can be hurt."

And El would make sure of it. Paul's days of protecting her at the expense of his own health was over.

"The doctor didn't believe you."

Joey's expression remained flat, barely even any acknowledgement that he heard her. "She only suspects. She doesn't really know anything."

"She knows he didn't get all these injuries from the car accident."

"Yeah well, it's about time someone noticed he's been killing himself for years."

El looked down at her lap, shame and guilt washing over her at his unintended jab. She had noticed. The beatings he'd come home with, the excessive drinking that was now obviously just a coping mechanism. The destructive behavior to keep them distanced. She'd noticed it all and hadn't thought to find out why. "No ones ever cared enough in all these years to ask questions."

"People don't ask questions because he only lets them see exactly what he wants them too." Paul had played the role of a violent drunk so well, none of them had suspected it was all just an act. "He's vigilant and discrete, but lately... he's been sloppy, less mindful of his actions."

"Because of me?"

He shrugged, "maybe, but who knows what goes on inside his head. There's a lot we don't know, El. A lot he hasn't told us about these past nine years."