Sagesse ☾ Derek Hale {2}

fourteen; aftermath

I move faster than I think I ever have before. I use my entire body weight to slam the front door shut and lock the bolt. My breaths come out in short intervals as I slide down the front door till my bottom touches the floor. I put my head in my hands and try to calm my speeding heart rate.

I jump at the sound of my phone ringing upstairs startles me. I try to get to my feet quickly, but a sharp striking pain in my right side stops me. I gasp in pain and wrap my arms around myself. I slowly begin to move again, ignoring the pain the best I can. I finally make it to my room and of course the ringing has ended by now. I grasp my phone and notice 4 missed calls flashing across the screen.

2 Missed Calls: Allison

1 Missed Call: Scotty Boy

1 Missed Call: Derek

I continue to look the phone, confused, when suddenly it starts to ring again. I hold my breath as Derek's contact name flashes across the screen again. I hit the green accept button last second and raise the phone to my ear.

"Abby?" I stare at the wall ahead of me, head still pounding and ribs burning at any slight movement. "Can you answer me, please?"

"Derek?" I hear a sigh come from his end of the phone before his voice breaks through again.

"What's wrong? I'm coming to see you right now." I let a breath at his words. The anger I feel him for him about changing every teenager in town is still present, but the need for him to be near is much more prominent.

"Please hurry." I end the call and let the phone slide out of my grasp. I slowly move and unlock the window adjacent to my bed and leaning back against the wall next to it. Once again, I let myself slide down till I reach the floor and I ignore the pain exerting from my body. As much as my body wants to, I refuse to let my eyes fall closed. I couldn't shake the feeling that that creature could come back at any second.

Werewolves and alphas? Sure, I can handle that--Hell, I grew up with that. But this thing, I can't. I don't know it's weak points or what it even is. I hate fighting the unknown--because you don't know. It always ends with pain and/or death and I haven't really been a big fan of that lately.

I cringe at the sound of the widow being ripped open. Derek bends down in front of me and I try to ignore the concern I see in his eyes. He reaches out and holds my smaller hands in his own, "What happened?"

I look past him, at the books laying along the floor, the open knife with them, the comforter rolled up as it lays half still on my bed.

I let my eyes fall back into Derek, "I have no idea," he shakes his head confused by my words, but I continue anyways.

"This, thing, come here. I don't know what the hell it even was, but it came in here and screwed everything up. I-" I stop for a split second and think over the events that had just taken place. "I saw it's eyes. They weren't...evil. I feel like Stiles when I use that word."

I groan and lay my head in my hands, but Derek soon replaces them with his. With my face in his hands, I continue to talk, "I don't think it was trying to kill me--not at first. Not until I pissed it off. But then it just ran out of the house-"

I stop talking completely when two large arms wrap themselves around my body. After a second of refusal, I wrap my arms around his neck and exhale deeply. I slowly begin to pull away and ask one of the many questions on my mind, "How did you know I was in trouble?"

He looks down at the floor silently before slowly shaking his head, "I honestly don't know. It was like I could feel that something wasn't right and then I knew it was you. I can't explain it-"

I wrap my arms around his neck knee again and let the anger and pain go as I stand there with him. I needed this more than anything and I wasn't going to let it be taken away by anything.