Unbroken ▹ Teen Wolf [02]

02; brother dearest

Due to an unfortunately speedy response from Beacon Hills' police & emergency departments, Rachel had ended up hiding in her (she still couldn't get used to referring to it as hers, but she sure as hell loved to) Porsche for over a half hour, rather than scouring the town for Scott. The downfall of her quick getaway plan had been when she'd stopped at the girls' bathroom to wash the blood off her face & ended up having to hide in a stall as the cuts healed up since some freshman was in the midst of trying to fix her eyeliner (which was far beyond saving, and that was coming from a girl who up until meeting Lydia Martin, had never even seen an eyeliner pencil in real life let alone attempted to use one without looking like a clown).

The girl had to have taken at least ten minutes before giving up & dealing with whatever winged monstrosity she'd managed to scribble on; whilst Rachel ran for her car like her life depended on it. Which, it almost had— she barely made it in the door before a cop car (followed by an ambulance & another cop car) pulled into the school's parking lot; the first one to step out being Sheriff Stilinski. The last thing she needed was to be caught sneaking away from one more outrageously supernatural event, let alone be forced to go back inside & answer questions about whether or not the event had done any mental damage. There was absolutely no way in hell she'd sit in that classroom & be treated like a victim of a savage bird attack; someone who could heal just about any wound inflicted upon them within seconds was extremely rarely a victim.

Regardless of that, Rachel had simply slumped back in the drivers' seat & waited for the chaos to die down; which, it had more than likely still yet to do so, but she no longer cared. The brunette had not-so-casually driven the freaking Porsche (was anything ever casual when driving that thing?) out of the school parking lot literal seconds after Stiles Stilinski had jumped in the passenger seat, informing her that Scott was at her house. To which she responded with a highly aggressive but hushed rant about the county (a council of mouth-breathing dick monkeys) taking it & sped off muttering something about strangling someone with their own vocal chords if they tried to arrest her for trespassing on her own property. It was hers & regardless of what any documentation said, it would always be hers.

Stiles looked too scared to question & remained silent for the duration of the quick drive there. If anything, it wouldn't be the trespassing to get her arrested, it would be going 50km/hr above the posted speed limit, but he wasn't about to inform the fuming supernatural of that. They got there in definitely record time, neither sure of what to expect as they approached the door; Stiles went to knock on the door, but Rachel stopped him, her eyes scanning over the fresh coat of red paint covering it.

"7 years of that asshole barging in my room without so much as a second's notice, don't you dare knock." She grumbled, taking a moment to brush her hand over the bright coloured surface before turning the rusted knob & hesitating. Rachel knew then & there that something was most definitely wrong; whether it be moderately or severely, she had yet to determine, but something was definitely wrong. The Derek she knew would never repaint the door of a house that was technically no longer his, let alone paint it a fire engine red. Anything to do with bright & lively colours repelled him like wolfsbane; even Rachel had a dislike for them.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked, noticing that she had yet to push the door open. He could only assume that she heard something, or sensed something— or just simply knew Derek was up to something, and Scott was now in on it. "Do you hear something?"

"I do now." Rachel muttered quietly, now aware that she could hear five heart beats, including her own— three of which were inside the house. "Maybe I should have stayed & helped that freshman with her makeup."

"What?"

"Three heartbeats— actually, disregard my previous statement." Rachel quickly changed her mind as she realized the pace of each; one was significantly slower, indicating someone was either unconscious, or damn near close to it. As much as she hoped it was Derek, the odds of that were below zero as she could also hear him talking to Scott.