Healing Hale | Scott McCall

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➔ 𝓣𝓱𝓮  𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓼𝓮 ➔

Running.

That's all Brooklyn Hale had been doing for the past few minutes to avoid certain death.

After going for a casual stroll through the woods she didn't expect to end up with a killer hot on her tail, but here she was, running for her life.

The different trees and plants all blurred into one as she drove her legs to go faster, not wanting to die after only being back in this god forsaken town for a mere twelve hours.

Obviously, there was a good reason the black haired girl had returned to Beacon Hills, a very good one indeed, because heaven knows she wouldn't just come back to the place where she had watched her family burn to death in a house fire for any old thing.

She was here to find someone she thought she'd lost forever.

However, she'd been going at a very fast pace for at least ten minutes now and still there was no escape in sight.

Despite her admirable athletic ability, she was growing more weary by the second; she'd have to somehow get away soon or she'd fall victim to whoever was trying to kill her now.

Brooke scolded herself for not bringing at least one gun with her. Although she had only spent the first ten years of her life here, she new better than to go anywhere in Beacon Hills without something to defend herself with.

Just as her pace was gradually getting slower, something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. An animal trap.

If she could just steer her attempted murderer in that direction she could get out of this mess.

The young Hale swerved in that direction preparing herself to jump over the small amount of ground the trap sat upon without raising suspicion.

Once she had jumped and was safely on the other side, the brown eyed girl carried on running for a few more steps until...

SNAP!

The person who had been chasing her; who she could now see was a man that was probably in his thirties with a bald, buff arms and profanities spilling from his mouth, someone you wouldn't want to mess with, had his leg caught in the trap rendering him unable to move.

He looked absolutely furious. Whether it was because he was unsuccessful in killing her, now had a wound on his leg that had blood trickling down to his ankle or both; she didn't know.

It was probably both.

Relief washed through Brooklyn as she took in short, harsh breaths trying to regain some energy she lost due to how fast she had run and for how long. At least she wouldn't be dying today.

Well not by his hands, this is Beacon Hills after all, anything can happen.

The Hale girl slightly stumbled away from the trapped man only now noticing the stinging sensations on her face and ankles where she must of hit into some shrubs during her mad dash.

After knocking the man unconscious so he couldn't come after her if he somehow, miraculously, broke free, she hurried on back to her small little apartment she was renting out for the time being.

The girl's apartment wasn't very homely but it was enough for now; with a simple kitchen, bathroom and a bedroom that consisted of a double bed, wardrobe and nightstand that stored her guns. But most importantly taped to the wall was the single photo she had of him.

It wasn't in the best condition, with frayed edges and creases from where it had been folded many times. Yet she would still give up everything else she owned to keep it.

That picture was the only thing she'd had left to remember him with for six years. So, when she heard the news she didn't hesitate to return to the place she hates to find him.

She turned away from the wall with a sigh, making her way over to the bathroom to get the first aid kit so she could tend to the injuries she had sustained from her time in the woods.

The brown eyed girl analysed the damage done to her face, luckily it wasn't too bad just a graze on her cheek and a cut lip so she quickly, but carefully, sorted it out.

Her ankles only had scratches on them from low down shrubs and bushes she had ran through so she cleaned them up before packing the equipment away.

Sometimes it really sucked that she could help everyone but herself.

Her sore and overused muscles demanded rest, so after locking the door and turning off the lights Brooklyn climbed into the surprisingly comfy bed.

Just before she fell into a calming sleep she thought about all that she had lost in Beacon Hills but also what she would gain from finding the man she came back here for.

Her father.