Chapter 1: Introduction

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TW: talk of death, swearing, alcohol.

Song: Car's Outside
Artist: James Arthur

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Willow Steele's pov:

"What do you want, Melissa?" I ask the nurse sitting in front of me. She was wearing sky-blue scrubs and off-white shoes and her dark brunette curls were up in a high ponytail behind her head. Her smile was almost sickly sweet as we waited for a consultation from the doctor. Dr Geyer was Liam Dunbar's father, I was 'apparently' waiting for him to let me get discharged- so that I could be released as 'fit for duty'.
"Willow, you have endured lifetimes of trauma. You deserved none of it-"
"Please don't lecture me on my life, Melissa." I grit my teeth and feel my jaw constrict. "Don't let them see me cry."
"It doesn't make you weak, you know that don't you?" She calmly says, reaching her hand out to me. I flinch back and stand up from my previous position on the bleak hospital bed. I pace back and forth slowly -something of which I had gotten used to in my years in the military- being back in Beacon Hills was like hell for me. When I came back from active duty at either our army base or overseas, it felt isolating being back in my old life. Maybe my job was intoxicating me, but I had convinced myself that it was this stupid, fucking, paranormal town. Nothing ever seemed normal.

When I was seven, Noah Stilinski and his wife had legally adopted me. I thought my life would finally start getting better- but guess what, it didn't. Stiles was like a younger brother to me, I couldn't let him get hurt (by any costs). I guess part of the reason why I joined the US army was to protect my country and the very few people who I care about. Noah had told me that there are free places in the Sheriff station anytime that I wanted to leave or quit, I knew that he didn't want me back on the front line- not after what happened back in Afghan.
One of the many things that I had learnt in the Army was that the world was a dangerous place and not all of us were going to survive in it- even the best and strongest of our fighters.

Dr Geyer walks back in with a clipboard in his right hand and an ink pen in his left. He smiles at me and I nod at him, "Corporal Willow Steele."
"Unfortunately that's me, Doctor." I bleakly tell him. "Can you discharge me yet?"
"We need to go through a few mental tests now ma'am, your commander at base has ordered them for you and the rest of your unit. Well, that's what it says here." He mumbles, glancing down at the top sheet of paper in front of him. "Can you follow me into my office? It's just more private than here." He informs me. I nod and follow him down the hall.

As I exit the room, I see Scott and Stiles suspiciously creeping up the same wing. I stop right outside of the office and ask for him to wait for me for a second. Scott notices me first as I place my hands on my hips and roll my eyes at the two boys, "Scott." I greet, my voice monotone like it usually was, "Stiles, fancy seeing you two boys here. What mayhem have you caused now?" I ask them, my (kind of) brother rolls his eyes at me whilst his friend stumbles over his words. Was he really still scared of me from a year ago when I forced the two to watch 'The Shining' with me?
"Willow? Didn't know you were back." Scott awkwardly said, scratching the back of his head. "How long are you staying for?"
"Only a week at most. I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that, Stiles." I turn to the other boy who looks as awkward as the other. When neither of them answer me I decide to leave, "Right, I've got better things to do. I'll see you later, Stiles." I sigh and wander into the doctors' office.

"So what kind of tests?" I ask, picking at a hangnail on my thumb until it starts bleeding. I suck on the side of it as an attempt to stop everything getting covered in blood.
"Mostly just questions or an informal chat if you want to call it that, Willow." He pauses, "Can I call you that? Or are we not on a first name basis just yet?" He asks. He probably knows I take pride in my rank -probably picked it up from when I signed in at reception earlier.
"Ma'am is fine." I tell him.
"Alright, ma'am." He looks at me sceptically. "Anything you would like to come clean about? Anything strange happened recently? For example are you seeing things or hearing anything that other people are not?" He asks, subtly interrogating me on the death of my best friend. Private Andrea Simmons.
"You think I'm crazy or something?" I chuckle, leaning back in the chair. If there was something truly wrong with me (which there wasn't) they would have to find out about it on their own, I'm not saying shit. "My best friend got blown to pieces by an IED. Yeah, that hurt. But you have to get over it, that's just the way it is." I tell him, he writes down something in his notes. "I'm not crazy. It's called logical thinking."
"Never said you were." The doctor calmly says, annoyance clear in his voice that he wasn't getting the answer he was looking for. He sighs and runs a hand across his face, he's fed up. He asked me the same question an hour ago when I first got here: I gave him the exact same answer. I am stubborn, I'll admit that.
"You're free to go, Corporal." He points to the door. I leave and collect my bag from Scott's mother.
"Thanks." I tell her, picking up my military bag and throwing it over my shoulder. I'd come straight from the carrier to this hospital so I could relax for the remainder of my days here before I was sent back again with my unit. "When do you finish your shift?" I ask her, glancing at the time on my phone as the screen lights up from a text.
"Fifteen minutes ago." She tells me, "I was waiting for you to finish with the new doctor. I though you might want a lift to the Sheriff's station."
"Ah shit, Melissa. If I had known I wouldn't of taken so long giving him the same answer as before, sorry." We chuckle after I finish my sentence. "If you could just drop me off on your way hope, that'd be great thanks." I smile.
"Sure come on, let's go now before we hit the rush hour." She says as we walk down the corridors towards the elevator.
I got a few weird looks on the way to her car since I was still in my U.S army uniform. My makeup was minimal but my hair was in a thick bun at the back of my head, my black locks slicked back with a handful of gel and half a bottle of hairspray. I took off my hat and chucked my bergen across the back seats in her car.
"You're practically royalty around here." She joked, pulling out of the parking lot. "No one in Beacon Hills joins the military, we're all too weird."
I chuckle at her sentence, "I always thought that when I came back. Not that I was royalty, but that it's weird around here." She nods as we drive along the empty road.

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