𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 | ❝ There are so many threats happening all at once and no one trusts anyone. People are dying and we don't know why or how or who's going to be next. And we can't protect anyone if we can't trust each other. ❞
The supernatu...
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I leaned against the brick wall behind the examination table, staring at the body on the table. What happened to the man on the slab was a hundred times worse than what Derek did to Scott at the ice rink.
And the scent that came from the body wasn't that of a werewolf; it was something completely different.
"They're coming back, so we don't have much time to talk," Deaton said as he worked quickly.
"What is that?" Scott asked while Deaton poured a clear substance onto a cotton ball.
"Rubbing alcohol," Deaton said. "You don't want it to get infected do you?"
Scott shook his head and Deaton started dabbing the alcohol on the wound, Scott wincing in pain. "It'll heal the same," Deaton started, "just not as quickly because of Derek."
"How do you know all of this?" Scott asked his boss.
"Actually, how do you know anything?" I reiterated, moving around the table to avoid the dead body.
"It's a longer story," Deaton answered, working fast to press a piece of gauze and tape around Scott's cut. "What I can tell you is that I know about your kind. Your kind—" he ripped more tape with his teeth— "I can help," he told us both.
After he taped up the gauze to the wound, he turned to the table and the body on it. "This," he breathed. "This is something different."
"Well, do you know what did it?" Scott asked.
"No, but the Argents will," Deaton said, turning back to us. I growled low, taking a step away from them. He glanced over at me, Scott, too, but Deaton didn't let Scott ask questions.
"And this is the crucial part," he continued, "they'll have some kind of record or a book. It'll have descriptions, histories, notations, of all the things they've discovered."
"All the things?" Scott repeated in shock. "How many different things are there?"
My ears perked at the sound of vehicles coming to a stop outside of the building. I grabbed Scott's hand quickly. "We gotta hide," I whispered to him.
"You and I have a lot still to talk about, Sarah," Deaton whispered to me quickly.
"Yeah," I huffed. "I'm not leaving yet."
I pulled Scott across the room and out of the double doors to the back rooms quickly, just as the bell above the front door rang. We hid right by the doors, myself closer to the windows of the doors as I heard several clear pairs of footsteps enter the examination room.
"I'm starting to think I need to buy a more prominent 'closed' sign," Deaton said coolly to the visitors.
"Hello, Allen. It's been a while. Last I heard, you had retired."
