girl almighty // s. stilinski [1]

epinephrine

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She wakes with a gasp.

Darkness surrounds her, the only source of light being the moonlight that streams through the wooden doors above her head. As she observes the rest of the room where she is detained, Bea sees no windows in the walls, and the only mean of escape is the aforementioned door. She can only assume she is underground.

Roots sprout from the ceiling in the center of the room, different jars scattered around the shelves placed in the walls. It all seems very familiar, though she is certain she has never been in this room before. However, a moment later, it clicks. The vision she had when Jennifer touched her, it was of this room. How had she known?

Bea attempts to stand from her seated position on the hard, dirt ground. A surprised gasp leaves her lips as she is immediately pulled back down, hitting her head on something behind her. She suddenly becomes aware of the ropes wrapped around her body, tightly securing her to a wooden beam behind her. She groans, leaning her head back against the wood as she realizes she will not be getting out of here any time soon.

Another gasp alerts her senses, making her look around in the darkness her eyes are become adjusted to. A few feet away from her sits Noah Stilinski, restrained against another beam. His wild eyes flit around the room for a few moments before landing on her, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. She's okay, he thinks to himself.

"Are you okay, Bea?" Noah asks, his concerned gaze focused on his foster father, his eyebrows pulled together with worry. She smiles slightly as his concern, realizing it has been a while since someone has cared so much about her.

She nods her head, wincing when a pain spreads through her skull. All the pain Bea has experienced within the last few hours is finally catching up to her, plus the air deprivation from when Jennifer had tried to strangle both her and Lydia.

"I'm fine, Noah. Are you okay? How's your shoulder?" she asks, her voice hoarse. Her eyes stare pointedly at where the knife had impaled his shoulder, dried blood staining his uniform shirt.

"I'm just fine, Bea. A little banged up, but I'll be all right," he responds with a sigh, leaning back against the beam in exhaustion. He wishes he could get them both out of here, help the rest of the police department solve the case now that he knows who is behind it, and how it all is happening. Jennifer took all of his weapons, rendering him completely helpless.

"Don't frown too much, Noah. You'll get worry lines," Bea jokes, smiling when the older man lets out a chuckle.

"Thanks for the advice, but I think it's already a little too late for that. You know who my son is," he remarks.

This time, a loud laugh leaves Bea's lips, almost a snort, as she nods in agreement. "Yeah, good point. I think I've got a few from him, as well."