Whose Eyes Were Red? [scott mccall][3]

chapter 4

"What if there is no possible way to save us from here?"

Levi paused before answering, her voice swollen with hope and pride as she thought back on everything they had all managed to accomplish together.

"Then they'll do the impossible."

//.//

"I keep having this feeling like there's pieces missing. Holes in my memory. Like this," Scott told Deaton, lifting the blue-tinted piece of glass that he had taken days prior. "I took that from a windshield at the Sheriff's Impound Lot but I can't remember why I was there."

Deaton held the glass between his fingers, flipping it over as he studied it before he looked back up at the True Alpha. "The subconscious can be a conduit for our memories. Dreams and waking dreams can be powerful tools to help us remember," he explained, hinting at a possible solution to Scott's missing memories.

"Could it all be connected? The Ghost Riders, the Wild Hunt, the holes?" The alpha questioned, thinking about how he had only started to properly notice all the holes in his life until he discovered the existence of the wild hunt.

"The Wild Hunt are drawn to war and mayhem. I've never heard of it doing anything to anyone's memory. It's almost like you have a form of Phantom limb syndrome," Deaton answered, before noticing that Scott had a blank look on his face from not understanding the term that the vet had used. "It's common in war. Amputees can have the sensation of an itch they can't scratch or a pain that couldn't possibly be there. The missing limb is so important, the brain acts like the limb's still there."

"So, my subconscious is trying to tell me what's missing?" Scott pondered, a look of realisation on his face.

"It may be."

"How the hell do I figure out what it's saying?" Scott exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air at the pretty vague information that Deaton was supplying him with like usual.

"Well, the easiest way to do that would be to simply go to sleep." 

/./

"Hello?" Lydia shouted, her eyes peeled for Malia in the dim light of the store room basement.

"Over here," The were-coyote called out, watching as Lydia turned to face her. She held tightly on to the shackles and chains in her hands as the banshee walked forwards towards her.

"Has it really come to this?" Lydia sighed, knowing that the full moon was still affecting Malia but she hadn't realised it was this bad.

"Can you give me a hand?" Malia asked, motioning to the chains in her fists.

"If this is a new after-school club," Lydia begins, rolling her eyes at the girl, "count me out?"

"I've got a problem!" Malia exclaimed, not having the time to listen to Lydia's snarky remarks about the chains she was using to stay in control. Lydia tilted her head slightly before listing to the rest of Malia's statement. "I'm growling at people in class. I'm clawing at my desk. I tried turning the floor of my bedroom into a coyote den. Do these look familiar to you?" She asked, waving the chains slightly, causing the strawberry blonde to shake her head as she examined them.

 "No. Why would it?" Lydia paused before sighing again. "Malia, do you really think this is going to keep you safe?"

"They used to. Before the lake house, this is where I'd come for the full moon. But you weren't down here with me. Scott wasn't down here with me but these things have the scent of an alpha all over them. So if it wasn't him, what other alpha do we even know? If you both weren't down here with me, who was?" Malia trailed off, allowing Lydia's eyes to widen slightly as she thought over what she was saying. She remembered Malia having to come down here before she suggested using her lake house, but she could not remember who it had been that accompanied her.