꧁༺ 𝕺𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖆 ༻꧂

|| Abomination ||

A groan escaped Scott's mouth as you opened the back door of the clinic.
"Jeez how much do you weigh?" you joked, grabbing him under the arm to help him inside. Deaton quickly shifted his eyes from Scott to you. He nodded and told you to bring Scott closer.

Deaton sighed as he dabbed a cotton bub with rubbing alcohol. "They're coming back, we don't have much time to talk."

You walked over to the body lying on the table, inspecting the wounds. Your mind however still going back to what happened with Issac. You knew his father abused him but what you saw was inhuman. But how were you able to see his memory? Quickly shaking you head you turned back around to Scott and Deaton.

"What is that?" Scott asked, groaning as the cotton bud met his wounded skin.

"Rubbing alcohol. You don't want it to get infected, do you? You will heal the same, just not as quickly, because of Derek." Deaton grabbed a band aid.

"Okay, how do you know all this? Actually, how - How do you know anything?" Scott asked in a panicked tone as he looked over to you, expecting you to give him an answer. You shrugged as  Deaton sighed, continuing on to explain.

"It's a longer story, that we can discuss later. What I can tell you now, is that I know about your kind. Your kind, I can help but this," he turned his towards the body "This is something different"

"Well, do you know what did it?" Scott asked hopefully but sighed right after as Deaton shook his head.

"No. But the Argents will. And this is the crucial part, they'll have a record or book. It'll have descriptions, histories, notations, of all the things that they've discovered."

You eyes slightly flickered at Deaton's proposition. A Book?

You were snapped out of your thoughts as Scott grabbed your arm and pulled you with inside of the storage room. He pushed you against the wall, trapping you in between his hands.
The two of you stayed silent, hearing both your steady breathes and the footsteps approaching. Scott pressed his body closer to yours and your heart beat quickened. What does he think he doing?

Silently cursing you began to push his body off yours.
"What the hell are you doing?" Scott whispered, trying to keep his voice low as possible. You grunted, moving around more.
"You're too heavy, so just get off me!" you argued, your hands pressing against his chest. Groaning quietly, Scott grabbed your hands and stopped you from doing anything further that would get you guys caught.

"Just endure it for now!" he whisper-yelled in your ear, pressing his body even closer to you. Your voice was caught in your throat, unable to say anything. You grunted again and faced the other way so that yours wouldn't be as close to his.

The two of you stay silent, listening to the conversation outside.

"I'm starting to think I need to buy a more prominent "closed" sign." Deaton sighed, pretending to dab blood from the wound of the dead body. He stopped, turning around to face the argents.

Gerard walked in from behind the shadows, "Hello, Alan. It's been a while. The last I heard, you had retired."

"Last I heard you followed a code of conduct." Deaton replied, raising a brow.

Chris cut in between the two, "If you hadn't noticed, this body is one of ours." he reasoned with Deaton.

"I did, I also noticed the gunpowder residue on his finger tips. So don't assume I will be swayed by your philosophy just 'cause I'll answer a few questions."

You and Scott looked at each other as the conversation continued on.

"He was only 24." Chris snapped, slightly annoyed. Deaton turned his head towards Chris, "Killers come in all ages."