THE KEEPERS - Teen Wolf FanFic (𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙙)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 - 𝐏𝐭. 𝟏

A brief lapse of unconsciousness enveloped Alistair, the respite lasting only a few moments before being rudely shattered by the sting of Michelle's hard slap against his cheek. Alistair's body jolted in response, gasping for air as the fiery pain surged through him once again, searing his senses. His eyes snapped open in alarm, meeting Michelle's gaze, who looked like she was on the edge of panic as her rapid-fire questions shot forth. "What the hell happened here? Why's there a body?! What happened to you?"

Alistair was only partially conscious, his ability to respond to Michelle's barrage of questions significantly lacked. Nevertheless, he managed to utter a response through gritted teeth, his voice strained by pain. "A couple of broken ribs, and I'm sure one of them punctured one of my lungs."

Michelle's eyes widen at this. Her desperation was palpable, a mixture of anxiety and concern that radiated from her. Her thoughts were moving rapidly, "What do I do? Do you remember -" Her stream of thoughts was abruptly cut off by Alistair.

"Your blood," he rasped.

The realization dawned on Michelle, a mix of frustration and self-reproach intertwining in her mind for not being able to think of that, facepalming herself in her mind. She reached for a small knife, her hands trembling slightly as she cut into her palm. There was no sense of sting, her wound held to Alistair's lips, a lifeline in the form of her blood.

As the wound on her palm sealed itself, Alistair's breathing eased, his strength gradually returning as he felt the bones of his body start to heal.

After a moment, with his renewed energy, Alistair pushed himself up, his gaze fixing on the lifeless body of the defeated wendigo. A tense sweep of his surroundings followed, seeking any trace of Scott or Liam. After asking Michelle, the girl expressed no one was there when she arrived.

"We can't stay. The police will be here soon," Alistair urged, his voice a whisper of urgency. He guided Michelle towards the stairs, their movements deliberate and cautious as they navigated their escape from the hospital.

The siblings pressed forward, their hurried steps echoing in the corridors as they maneuvered through the passages of the hospital. The air seemed to buzz with tension, each heartbeat pulsing with urgency. As they neared the nearest exit, the distant sound of approaching deputies set their nerves on edge. The sight of uniformed figures ascending the stairs, drawn like moths to the dead body of the wendigo.

Michelle's whispery voice sliced through the air, laden with a sense of urgency. "I heard a chopper, Al. We need to get out of here before Dad shows up."

Slipping through the hospital's exit, they were greeted by the night's cool embrace. Alistair's car stood in the street. With haste, they found themselves inside, the doors sealing shut behind them and the motor raging to life.

The insistent ringing of his phone interrupted the tense atmosphere. An exasperated growl rumbled from Alistair as he glanced at the screen, revealing Scott's name. Warily answering the call, he remained silent, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he waited for Scott to speak.

"Al, I did something bad," Scott's voice quivered with unease, casting a shadow over the conversation. In the back of the call, Stiles appeared to be engaged in his own anxious mutterings.

Alistair's voice dropped to a low, dangerous register, closer to a growl. "Scott, where is Liam?"

"I need your help, Al. I don't know what to do." Scott's words rushed out, laden with desperation. The tremble in his voice danced on the edge of vulnerability, revealing the depth of his turmoil. He sounded close to start crying.