We Come From The South » Isaac Lahey [2] ✓

reliving pain

Chris instantly stumbled back, his hand clutching on to the edge of the marble counter and retching into the bin.

Derek wobbled and toppled slightly to the side, catching himself on the Tasmanian oak dining table. His eyes were squeezed shut, the worry wrinkles around them beginning to form. 

Adrianna ignored their sickness from the sudden magic and purposely moved towards Derek. She gently grabbed his bicep with her left hand and pulled out a sturdy chair with a light brown cushion atop it with her right hand. She made him sit with his wounded back to them, his arms leaning on the back of the chair in front of him.

"Chris, can you hold him still please?" Adrianna requested, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And what's the plan here?" Derek questioned with uncertainty.

"I'm going to get the glass out. Just keep still." Adrianna held both arms out in front of her, her elbows bent slightly. She tensed her hands, her eyebrows furrowing together in deep concentration. A warmth began to spread across her palms, the purple energy appearing and flowing around both her outstretched hands and all the debris in Derek's skin. She slowly began to turn her hands towards herself and at the same time the glass slinked out of his skin and floated into the tense air. Derek's eyes flew open, his other hand grasping the chair in front of him as his entire body stiffened.

Adrianna grunted slightly, feeling a warm, metallic liquid crest her lips. She halted her hands once they were completely facing her and studied his back carefully. She gave herself a firm nod that all the glass was out and flung her hands down on a right angle.
With a light shatter, the bin collected most of it.

Dereks breathing remained heavy but his skin was already beginning to return to normal colour and his hand slowly unclenched the chair.

Adrianna let her body slump slightly and wiped away the small trickle of blood under her nose with the back of her hand. "Feeling any better?"

Derek rolled his eyes, slowly and carefully swivelling to rest his forearms against the table instead, his back still hunched over. His large hands shook only slightly as the werewolf healing took over.

"How did you know what happened?" Chris spoke up.

Adrianna raised her eyes to her Uncle, the whole
spectacle of who had initially caused this incident pushing to the forefront of her mind. She was almost reluctant to say the next words.
"It was Stiles, well the nogistune part of him at least."

Chris and Derek instantly look to one another, a range of emotion crossing their faces, as if their hearts didn't know which ones to settle on.

"Scott found a heap of plans stuffed into a duffel in the basement of the school, blueprints and tools. One of the traps was uh—" She cleared her throat, "One was for the lacrosse coach, an arrow to the stomach whilst cross country was on."

Confusion and anger swept across both men's eyes as they once again glanced at each other then back at Adrianna. It didn't make sense, why was the nogistune targeting the coach, he played no role in this game, he held no stakes. But the nogistune was extremely smart and conniving, there would've been a reason behind this trick.

"Is Coach alright?" Chris finally asked, settling on the easiest of questions.

Adrianna nodded and settled into the chair across from Derek, her fingers twiddling with one another. "Do you remember William Barrow?"

"Yeah, he wrapped bombs up as presents."

"Exactly. Stiles, or the nogistune, led us to a school bus, and there was a present, but we didn't realise it was the wrong one until I felt your pain." She looked to Derek, her eyes tracing over his face that looked much more alive now despite the storm brewing in his hazel green orbs.