Wild Ones - Teen Wolf fan fic

Dead or Alive

Dying isn't at all what people say it is. There is no blinding light at the end of a tunnel, there is no holy ghost there to guide you away, and there is no hooded skeletal figure holding a scythe. It is peaceful, though. Quiet. It's like falling asleep. The pain and the fear fades away and is replaced with a deep and instinctive acceptance. An acceptance that you no longer exist in a physical form and that it is time to move on.

I tried, but something held me back. The acceptance I felt quickly became confusion as the pain returned. It felt like I was being sucked through a vacuum. The peaceful quiet was shattered by a loud and rhythmic thumping and I felt a prickly feeling all over, similar to when your foot falls asleep. I suddenly felt a crushing pain in my chest. Air. I needed air. I gasped and was surprised that it worked. I was breathing. I was alive. I slowly opened my eyes. There was a canopy of trees above me, shielding the stars from my sight. It was dark, but I could see the moon shining through the leaves.

I attempted to sit up but immediately gave up when the pain in my chest worsened ten fold. Looking down, the front of my hoodie was torn and stained with blood. My right leg sported a deep wound and was covered in blood as well. I was covered in dirt and leaves, as though someone had tossed me here like garbage, not even bothered to bury me. I slowly rolled myself over on to my stomach, careful to avoid putting too much weight on my injured leg. I began to drag myself across the ground, using my upper body strength. I needed to get out of the woods as quickly as possible. I'd heard the stories of the animal attacks. The going was slow, but after what seemed like hours, I found myself at the edge of the woods, behind the gas station. I saw a man filling up his car and a woman washing her windshield. I laughed in relief and forced myself to my feet, using a nearby tree for support.

"Help." I rasped. My voice sounded awful. My throat was raw and my lips were cracked and dry. I tried again.

"Help me." It came out as a loud whisper. Niether the man or woman heard me. They went along like normal. I stepped away from the trees and limped forward. The pain in my leg was excruciating and my chest felt tight. I made it to the building before my legs gave out and I collapsed in a heap behind the dumpsters. I felt tears stinging my eyes. I'd never felt so hopeless and alone before. Where was Stiles? Was he safe? Was Scott safe? What was Gerard doing? The questions spun through my head, leaving me reeling. When he found out I was alive, would he come after me again? I curled up into a ball and cried. I didn't know what else to do. I just cried.

I looked up at the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming around the corner. I wedged myself between the wall and the dumpster as best I could, bracing myself, half expecting to see Gerard. It wasn't. I didn't recognize the man. He was medium height, dark skinned, and wore a name tag that read "Beacon Hills Vet - Dr. Deaton". He approached me slowly, holding out his hands to show he meant no harm. I whimpered and pressed myself even harder against the wall, putting more pressure on my leg.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Let me help you." He said. His voice was calm and soothing. I watched him and he watched me. I looked him in the eye and silently begged him to help me. I was terrified. I didn't know who to trust. But I didn't have much of a choice. He took a slow step towards me and reached his hand out.

"Come on. Let's get you inside." He took my hand from my leg and pulled me to my feet, wrapping my arm over his shoulders to support me. I expected him to take me to the front of the gas station, but instead he took me to the next building over. It was a long chain of businesses and we stopped at the door that read "Beacon Hills Vet". He fumbled with his key for a moment before swinging the door open and leading me inside.

We were in a sort of waiting area. It smelled of bleach and wet dogs. It stung my nose. He took me behind the counter and into a back room. He flicked on the light making me hiss and snap my eyes shut.

"Sorry, here. Sit. I'll turn on these lights." He guided my hands to a hard cool surface. It felt smooth and cold to the touch, like metal. I turned away from it and lifted myself up onto it.

"There. Is that better?" I opened my eyes and blinked in the dim light. I was sitting on a veterinary operating table in the middle the room. There were machines and cabinets all over, probably full of surgical tools and drugs. I nodded and looked at the Dr. He smiled and stepped towards me again.

"I'm Dr. Deaton. I'm not a medical Dr. but I can help you. I'm familiar with your condition." He pulled a pair of surgical gloves from under the table and slid them on, before beginning to examine my leg wound. I frowned.

"My condition?" He nodded and looked up at me.

"You're Dearg-due." He grabbed a few swabs and a disinfectant solution and set to work cleaning my leg.

"What is durg due?" I asked, gritting my teeth when he touched the wound with the solution. Dr. Deaton shook his head, smiling.

"Dearg-due. You're a vampire."