The last thing James "Jay" Hale ever imagined was to begrudgingly return to Beacon Hills, find out his older sister was murdered, and then be forced to go on a wild goose chase after an enigmatic Alpha that seemed to have a particular interest in ru...
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Why Have A Therapist When I've Got My Brain Dead Uncle Instead?
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Contrary to popular belief, after being discharged from the hospital and learning that Derek was apparently on the run from the police again, Jay did not spiral into a pool of depression and boredom like he was often prone to. Despite the full moon rearing its ugly head in the next couple of days and Derek's elusive visit to the hospital without any follow-up, Jay remained surprisingly resilient. It was an astounding achievement, really.
With no other Hale around, Jay's brain was automatically defaulting to thinking he was alone again, a sensation he was growing to be uncomfortably familiar with. But instead of succumbing to the despair of it all, he chose to go to the next best Hale and distract himself by strategizing the next step in Operation: Alpha Takedown.
After getting a face full of disgusting Alpha breath he was officially more locked in than before.
Jay smiled politely at the front receptionist as he entered the building, making his way over to the desk in long strides. The lady didn't ask many questions, just told him what he needed to know while he signed his name on the visitor sheet and directed him down the correct hallway to the hospital room. She had a tight frown as she watched him closely, but it was nothing Jay noticed considering his climbing anxiety.
As his hand touched the cool metal of the doorknob, he stood there and took a moment to take in a few deep breaths to force his nerves away. Bouncing on his heels to psyche himself up, he finally twisted the knob and pushed the door open, ignoring the thudding drum of anticipation in his chest.
Slowly, the door cracked open, and once the person on the other side was visible, Jay let out a huge breath of air he wasn't aware he was holding in.
"I don't know why I was expecting something else," he muttered, taking in the same sorry sight as the week. A shell of the man sitting in the wheelchair staring out into what must be time and space.
Jay walked over to the seat next to the window, sitting down and staring at the scarred face of his uncle.
A long moment of silence passed.
"Well," He broke it finally. "This is much more awkward than I thought it would be. How do I even do this? Do I just talk? Should I, like, move so you can see me? The lady at the front said you can hear, but how do they even know that for sure?"
More silence.
Peter just continued to stare out the window and Jay honestly didn't know what he was expecting. With a deep pained breath, he forced himself to fill the silence. It was what he used to be best at growing up, a skill he'd kept dormant over the years. Using the awkwardness he was feeling to ramble nonsensically as a way to lighten things up.
