Fatal ➵ Peter Hale [COMPLETED]

//14//

fourteen

➢➢➢

"I'll see you soon, Dea." Deucalion said in an arrogant smirk, as if he caught a prize he'd been after for so long. The words echoed in Dea's ears as guilt clawed at her insides. In her heart, she knew it was wrong to join him but she had to go with her mind. The thought of revenge was too sweet to ignore. She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head. No, I will go through with this and avenge my family, she thought to herself. Yet the feeling still remained.

And though the feeling still gnawed at her, she carried on walking. Deucalion's plan was simple, and so was her mission but smart, she just hoped it was over soon. Dea and Scott didn't particularly get on all the time, but she could see he had a good heart and earned the title of a True Alpha.

The hospital seemed to be in a chaotic wreck. Beds of patients dashing around frantically, doctors hurrying behind them with the lights flickering from the heavy storm outside. Nothing like the storm I feel inside me, Dea thought bitterly to herself. She shook her head and tried to focus on the plan at hand, easily slipping through the bodies of the doctors and into the white hallways as her eyes darted for the room she was searching for. Cora's room.

She seemed to be close as the patient room numbers neared the one she was looking for, and not long after, she heard someone near yell, "Hey, anyone want to tell me when they're getting my niece out of here?" Peter. She turned the corner, seeing Melissa McCall turn the corner into a patients room which Dea guessed was Cora's and where Peter was.

"Sorry, but she wasn't, uh..." Melissa started to say, until her eyes landed on her Peter, her eyes widening as she stopped in her tracks, shock in her eyes, "You're supposed to be dead." She said, pointedly.

Peter stepped into the shadows of the room as he muttered, "I get that a lot actually."

Dea smirked as she rounded the corner into Cora's room and said, "Believe me, he does." But her smirk dropped when she saw Cora's condition that seemed to be worse than what Deucalion described. Cora was pale as a pearl, sweat layering her skin as her chest barely made movement to show that she was still breathing.

She neared her, almost cautiously as she heard Melissa ask, "Wait, who are you?" But Melissa's voice seemed to be like distant noise, barely comprehendible to Dea's ears. As she reached the bed that held Cora's sickly form, she sighed sadly. She and Cora weren't close - hell, Dea wasn't close to anyone - but, although her face expressed no particular pain except discomfort, she couldn't dare imagine what she must be really feeling. Hiding emotions seemed to be the Hale's forte.

Suddenly, the heart monitor started to beep loudly, alerting Dea, Peter and Melissa, and as Cora lurched forward, Dea immediately moved out of the way quickly as Cora started to vomit mistletoe with a strange black fluid.

They all immediately sprung to Cora's side, Melissa wiping her mouth as Dea attempted to cool her with a rag that was beside her, Peter holding Cora's hand as they all looked towards the youngest surviving Hale.

"Stand back. I'll handle it from here." Melissa said firmly, yet alarm still shone in her eyes. Dea and Peter, though reluctantly, nodded and stepped away from them, sitting down in the two hospital chairs that sat beside the bed.

Dea glanced at Peter, who she saw was staring intensely at Cora whom was slipping in and out of consciousness repeatedly. It was strange, seeing a look of care on Peter's face other than when it was pointed it her. He seemed to always wear a mask that said he didn't care for his family much with an air of arrogance that said he'd do fine on his own.