Into the Wreckage ▸ Scott McCall (3)

xiv. PROPHETIC

xiv. PROPHETIC

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After Kira and Liam had left, Foster and Stiles decided that it was time they took the matter into their own hands. After instructing her father to keep a close eye on the security feeds, in case they were to miraculously come back on, the duo took off. After Kira and Liam left, the power had shut down throughout the hospital, leaving them with the backup generator and no cameras.

While Foster knew it was useless to have her father stay there, she wanted him where he was out of harms way. With Peter's threats and a possible Benefactor running around the hospital, Foster wanted him where she knew where he was. If something were to happen to him, her only parent, it would have been the last straw leading to her unraveling.

The Argent was currently keeping patrol near the entrance of the morgue, meaning that he saw everyone who went in as well as out. Nothing would be able to get past him, that was for certain. So, the two had made a b line in that general direction.

His back was to them, and in all honesty, neither of them saw themselves as stealthy. So when Chris whipped around, barrel of his gun pointed in their faces, they were on the verge of a heart attack.

Stiles' hands immediately shot up in defense, Foster's face twisted in a grimace as she braced herself for immediate pain. Honestly, how many times was Chris going to point a gun in her face. First, there was the hospital when they were running from the alphas, and then now. Also in a hospital.

Her, Chris, guns, and hospitals had a bad history, that much could be said by Foster.

When the Argent finally realized that it was only Foster and Stiles, both of which were harmless, he released a sigh before lowering the gun.

"Oh, my god," Foster muttered, the words hard for her to get out seeing that she held her breath for the past twenty seconds. "Okay, power's out in the whole building now and we lost all the cameras."

Understanding the current situation, Chris nodded. "Both of you, stay with Scott. Text me if you see or hear anything."

With that, he cast a glance down toward his watch, all of them able to see the brightly lit eighteen. They were under the halfway mark, time slipping away with every passing second. They were limited on their time, and they all had a feeling that the climax of the night was beginning now.

There was no storm, the only thing that could have taken the power out was if someone deliberately wanted to. And who better than the Benefactor?

Chris shot a fleeting glancing toward the two panicking teenagers before taking off, leaving Foster and Stiles to scramble into the room filled with the dead. Foster couldn't just wait outside, she needed to be here now. She couldn't leave Scott's proximity, knowing that she would risk life and limb to protect him from the Benefactor if he was really here.

When they finally entered, they were left in the dimly lit room, silence falling over them like a blanket encompassing them. Foster was silent, her eyes trained Scott's lifeless, pale body which was placed upon an autopsy table, Foster feeling her bottom lip begin to tremble.

She knew that she couldn't have stopped this plan no matter how much she protested, but seeing him like this, knowing that time was still slipping away, she couldn't help but feel the need to cry. Foster was staring at the dead body of the boy who made her life worth living. He was the one who had shown her happiness when she thought it was all gone, the one who stuck by her through thick and thin.

He was the love of her life, and there was a strong possibility that she would be losing him before the night's end.

The brunette beside her took notice of the broken expression plastered on her face, slowly extending his arm before allowing his hand to find hers. Stiles' fingers were soon lacing themselves with Foster's, squeezing her hand in the most reassuring manner that he could.