𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐋 | ❝ I will protect you until my dying breath. And every lifetime after that. ❞
They just can't catch a break.
Old and new enemies appear in Beacon Hills.
With the help of old and new allies, they have to...
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WITH HER STOMACH TWISTED UP IN KNOTS, Sarah didn't get much sleep. For the remaining five hours before the sun rose, all she could do was pace the floor and worry about Derek.
She glanced over at Lydia with envy because the teenage girl could go easily fall asleep in the chair she had been sitting on. Even Deaton had retreated to his office for a couple hours of shut-eye.
And Derek was totally unconscious.
Everyone was getting sleep. Everyone except Sarah.
She let out a grunt and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. What was she supposed to do if Derek was stuck as a teenager, if they couldn't turn him back?
That thought made her want to throw up.
"Sarah, have you gotten any sleep yet?"
The young woman spun around in fright at the sound of Deaton's voice, her heart dropping to her stomach.
Deaton held up his hands, sympathy on his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
She gulped back the lump in her throat and shook her head. "I-It's fine, Deaton. I'm just a little tired so I'm jumpy."
He furrowed his brows with concern. "When was the last time you slept?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I lost track of the days," she muttered. "I got maybe two hours of a sleep every couple of nights. Three, if I was lucky."
Deaton frowned. "What did the Calaveras do to you?"
Sarah turned her head away, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'd rather not talk about it, Deaton." Her eyes landed on Derek's sleeping, teenage, form and she sighed. "Can we just focus on finding out what happened to Derek?"
Deaton let the topic change like she asked, walking over to Derek. He put two fingers under Derek's chin at the base of his neck and raised his other hand, looking at his watch.
Sarah fiddled her fingers together as she joined Deaton. She stood on the opposite side of the table from him and stared down at the childish features her boyfriend bore again.
Staring down at the unconscious form on the exam table, Sarah was brought back to high school — to memories she had buried deep down when she left after graduation.
The group of jocks was headed right for her and she tried to hide herself. She tucked her books close to her chest and shrunk her body low, trying to hide in the sea of students in the hallway.
But the jocks smelled blood in the water, and their target was locked in their sights.
The ringleader of the basketball team, captain Tyler Cunningham, jutted away from his spot in front of the group of five. Snickering to himself, his hand slammed down on the books she carried, pulling them to the ground in a mess of papers of books.
