Eye of the Hurricane ▸ Scott McCall (2)

xvi. SACRIFICE

xvi. SACRIFICE

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        The power inside of the hospital had finally come back on, both Foster and Stiles waiting in the lobby, seated on uncomfortable chairs. Both of them are silent, Foster's face stained with tears. She couldn't believe it, Scott left with Deucalion. Just like always, Death, Destroyer of Worlds got everything he wanted right in the palm of his hand. And the apple of his eye happened to be Scott this time around, and Foster couldn't be any less pleased.

        She chewed onto her nails, trying to get herself to stop shaking. She couldn't stop, she really couldn't. Jennifer was gone, now with Melissa. She took Melissa. Not only is Stiles' father missing, but now Scott's mom. Who was she going to take next? Then again, Foster was almost certain that they wouldn't be waiting for long. Jennifer seemed as though she was going to strike soon, sometime before the lunar eclipse.

        And now everything around them was falling to ashes, no sense of prevail in sight. Foster heard the automatic doors of the hospital slide open, the girl glancing over to see members of the FBI entering the premises. 

        "Stiles," she breathed out, nervously, "what are we supposed to say?"

        Stiles found himself looking up, his eyes landing on the man heading straight toward them. A look of dismay crossed his face, the boy muttering sarcastically, "Ah, just perfect."        

        The tall, lanky man made his way toward the two silent teenagers, looking down at them almost as though they're dust on the bottom of his shoe. Foster's eyes scanned him, waiting for the next awful person to strike. It was then, though, when her eyes feel upon his name tag.

        Rafael McCall.

        Her eyes widened, realization hitting her. This was Scott's father, the same one who walked out on him when he was only a young kid. This was the dick head who abandoned Scott and Melissa, and it was taking Foster everything not to snap at him.

        The man lets out a sigh, musing quite rudely, "A Stilinski at the center of this whole mess. What a shocker? Think you can answer some questions without your usual level of sarcasm?"

        "If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid," Stiles deadpanned, Foster letting out a chuckle. Agent McCall was quick to shoot the girl a glare, the blonde raising a brow at him. He practically radiated with douche. 

        "Where's your dad and why has nobody been able to contact him?" McCall questioned Stiles, seeming about done with the two teenagers and it hadn't even been a full five minutes.

        Stiles shrugged, answering, "I don't know, I haven't seen him in hours."

        "Is he drinking again?" McCall pressed, Foster listening to his questions with complete disbelief.

        Stiles lets out an annoyed sigh, demanding, "What do you mean 'again?' He never had to stop."

        "But he did have to slow down," McCall pointed out, Foster shaking her head back and forth slightly. "Is he drinking like he used to?"

        "Alright, how about this, next time I see him I'll give him a field sobriety test, okay? We'll do the alphabet, start with F, end with U."

        McCall's lips pressed themselves into a thin line, growing quite annoyed with Stiles' smart ass answers. Foster, on the other hand, was biting back comments of her own.