Alone • Liam Dunbar

Thirty-One

Everything felt hazy.

It was like there was a bubble cast over my senses, keeping me from fully comprehending everything. There were people talking but their voices were muffled, as if I was listening to them underwater. Harsh fluorescents above me blinded me momentarily, and I had to cringe away from the light.

My entire body was covered in sweat and it seeped into the sheets I lay on. There was a distant throbbing coming from the right side of my lower abdomen, reminding me of what happened.

I went to reach for my wound, to be sure the spike was out of my body, but someone kept me from doing so. They had been holding onto my wrist with both hands and I only registered their touch when I moved. Their grip was tight, too tight to be someone simply grieving at my bedside.

Through the fog of my slowly returning vision, I could make out the image of black veins that lead to the culprit of the touch.

"Scott," I choke out, my throat burning from my own voice.

His agonizing groans finally reached my ears. He was trying to suppress them through gritted teeth and deep breaths. But if he was feeling that much of my pain, it meant he had been taking too much for too long; it meant he was running the risk of losing his Alpha spark.

I try to pull away from him, try to save him from making that mistake, but someone pushes down on my shoulders to prevent me from escaping. My strength had yet to return, and any attempts to fight against them were easily deflected.

"Stay down, Jacqueline," Deaton says from above me as he keeps me pinned.

I stare up at Scott, meeting his glowing red eyes that were filled with panic. Behind him I could see Melissa and Stiles, both watching with anxious concern. They understood what he was risking, too.

"She'll be fine from here, you can let go now," Deaton cautions in a rushed tone.

I could still feel Scott's hands on me though, and Deaton's expression became frantic as he tried to reach over me to push Scott away. He didn't budge, and his groans got louder as my suffering became his.

"Scott, stop!" Stiles pushes past Melissa, coming to wrap his arms around his best friend and pull him off of me.

They stagger back, hitting a wall. Stiles allows Scott to lean against him as he gasps for air, trying to cope with the amount of pain he had taken. Now that Scott was a few feet away from me I could see the blood that coated his shirt. At first, I had assumed it was mine, but it was too fresh to be from my skin. The blood was his. It was concentrated near his lower abdomen near the right, exactly where my own wound was...

What the hell?

Melissa comes forward to take her son's place, blocking my view to make me focus on her.

"You can rest now, honey."

Her hand comes up to brush my damp hair back as it stuck to my forehead. She stares down at me with troubled eyes, the same brown eyes that she passed down to Scott. I find comfort in the similarity.

I wanted to stay awake, to understand what was happening, but my body was too drained to put effort into that. My eyes couldn't stay open for more than a second.

"Scott," I pant worriedly. "Scott."

Melissa shushes me, continuing to stroke my face with a tender smile and teary eyes.

"He's fine, you're both fine. Just rest," she whispers.

Her touch was nurturing; the touch of a mother. It reminded me of my own, and my thoughts stuck with her as Melissa's gentle caresses lulled me to sleep. I had dreamt of her, hadn't I? Her in the clearing, Allison shooting an arrow at the sky, and my father passing my family sword down to me.