Deaton had a look of surprise when they entered the back room and Scott frowned at the group in confusion.
"I thought the sirens were going past the clinic?" Scott questioned, looking between them, his frown deepening when he saw the state Stiles was in.
"We caught the monster that hurt Stiles; you need to do something to keep it at this size, Deaton," Derek said, ignoring Scott's questoin.
The Druid looked at the mason jar Stiles was holding, barely able to see the creature inside past the thick screen of smoothie.
"Tip it on the examination table, please, Stiles," Deaton said, bundling up the paperwork and moving it to the desk.
Stiles unscrewed the lid quickly and poured the monster out, a small pink puddle surrounding it. The monster obviously tried to stand, to grow taller again, but Stiles slammed his hand on top of it firmly, the noise making a few of them jump.
"Was that necessary?" John asked, raising his eyebrow.
"It broke Stiles arm, destroyed his car, and just attacked us again in broad daylight. It was more than necessary," Derek growled.
Lydia moved slightly to stand between John and Derek. Deaton made sure that Stiles still had a hold of the creature before leaving for his Druid books and supplies.
"It attacked you? Are you all right?" Scott asked, looking at them, but obviously waiting for Stiles to reply. "Stiles? C'mon, man, you can't be that pissed off at me that you won't answer a simple question!"
"Can't you see he's trying to concentrate?" Lydia snapped. "If he loses concentration for more than a second, we all die. So sit down, and shut up!"
Scott stepped back in surprise, but clenched his jaw and gave a curt nod. He glared over at Derek. "Why didn't you do anything sooner?"
"What?" Derek asked, frown deepening, but refusing to look away from Stiles.
"You were attacked; why didn't you call for help?"
That made Derek look away from Stiles, and he glared right back at Scott, his expression reminiscent of his earlier days at Beacon Hills after Laura. "I did. I howled for help."
Scott scoffed. "I didn't hear anything."
Stiles' jaw tightened as the monster tried to slip out from under his palm, the thing almost succeeding because it was so damn slippery. "I'm concentrating. Shut up!"
Scott folded his arms across his chest. "Fine, be that way."
He stormed out without another word, and the Sheriff looked between the other three as though he wanted to say something. Before he could, Deaton walked back into the room, his arms full with two large tomes and several containers tucked under his arms.
"Just a minute more, Stiles. Hang in there."
Stiles was visibly sweating now, staring down at his hand and the monster that was still struggling underneath. His mental hold on it was starting to slip, and his physical hold had been slippery from the start. Stiles took a deep breath, eyebrows bunched together as he glared and tried to force the creature to stay still long enough for Deaton to do something useful for once.
Deaton stood beside Stiles what felt like hours later, but was probably only a few minutes at the most. He poured a small handful of granules from each of his containers into a larger clear container, added a drop of something, and then spat into the mix too.
"Gross," Lydia muttered under her breath.
"Put the creature in here, Stiles," Deaton said, ignoring Lydia for the moment.
