Broken Family Tree

9 - Treatment

Deaton took a moment to collect himself before speaking, but his throat was severely swollen, so his voice resembled more a frog's croak.

"The only thing that can counter that poison is something equally as dangerous and potent, and I felt him being unconscious would be better for his sake and safety. As well as ours." he added painfully, signaling to Malia that he was okay. Malia left him and rushed over to Thomas, checking that he was still under the influence of the sedative before finding his clothes and carefully putting them back on him. Derek, hesitating, walked up to Malia and gave her a hand.

~○~○~○~

They worked in silence, small flashes of orange flame flickering on the floor every now and then from the sink. Deaton had gone somewhere to get something, but they stayed with Thomas, Malia sitting on the counter and Derek standing. Derek had found a mop and cleaned up the vomit on the floor as best he could, dumping the mop on top of the still-burning herbs, extinguishing the flames, and turning on the faucet and letting it run over the cleaning utensil in a continuous stream. Then he turned toward Malia, considering her for a moment. He leaned against the counter across from Malia, next to the drugged Peter-clone.

"Is he really your brother? I mean, I know you said it over the phone, but—"

"Same birthday, down to the year. Same mother. Looks like a carbon-fucking-copy of Peter Hale. Even if we don't have the same mother, being born on the same day and year? What're the odds of that? Plus, he may have known her by her code name only, but he knew about the coyote mother-daughter relationship, and that's something he wouldn't've known about unless she spoke about it." Malia firmly stated, leaving no room for argument. Derek knew she was right, but it didn't make it any easier to process the apparent fact: Malia was a twin. What's worse, she had been separated at birth when Talia, his own mother, had taken her away from Corinne as soon as she'd been born (assume Lydia told everyone about the memory at some point and Malia told them about what Corinne had told her)—something he was not taking well.

"Okay. Alright. But mayb—"

Before he could say more, Deaton walked in with yet another syringe in his hands, only this one's contents were ice-blue and had clearly been in a freezer because tendrils of cold could be seen floating off of it.

"Deaton, what is that?" Malia asked, jumping off the counter and moving closer to Thomas.

"The only thing that can save him now," he said in a very serious tone. His calm façade was gone, and he wasn't talking in riddles anymore. Derek and Malia braced for the worst as they watched Deaton lift Thomas's shirt and inject the supposed remedy directly into his heart. Malia panicked for a moment seeing where he was administering it, but Derek calmed her down by wrapping an arm around her shoulders, holding her close. He was worried, too, though he was successfully hiding it. He had just met this new family member that he didn't know existed and there was a possibility that he could die from something he didn't know was dangerous, only taking it to survive. That detail alone was enough to clue him in on the boy's home life. After some tense minutes, Derek was pulled out of his thoughts when Thomas started coughing. Looking at him, Derek and Malia could see black lines appearing on his arms, neck, and face. They were multiplying at an alarming rate, and Thomas was still coughing. His coughing was sounding wetter—as if water was in his throat—until he was coughing out black liquid that had a strong metallic odor. Immediately, everyone knew what was happening: he was coughing up blood. Derek and Deaton rushed forward, lifting him up and moving him over the sink where he continued to cough and vomit his own poisoned blood, Malia standing frozen behind them, unsure of what to do. Ten agonizing minutes of this, and Thomas was at last calming down, his coughing not as forced as before and slowing down. Deaton especially was afraid he would continue and die from blood loss, if the shock didn't kill him first. Thomas had expulsed a lot of basically dead blood, and he would need a blood transfusion right away. Before the two men could move him away from the sink, he went limp, collapsing against it. Malia called out to him, but he didn't answer. Deaton and Derek lifted him off the sink and laid him down on the floor. They took off his ruined shirt and Deaton placed his ear against his chest, listening for a heartbeat. He pulled himself back in surprise, placing his hand fully on his chest. He retracted his hand and said, confusion laced in his voice: "He's cold. He has a heartbeat but no body heat. If he stays like this, he could go into shock." This wasn't supposed to happen; yes, the tonic (or potion) had to be cold for it to be effective, but the natural body heat of the werewolf should have counteracted with it and cancelled out most of the temperature-dropping side effects. Could something have happened to Thomas's wolf? But that's impossible—unless the adrenaline boost did more damage than he thought...

Derek stared at Deaton, jaw clenched, and looked down at Thomas whose breathing was barely noticeable. A sudden impulse came over Derek and he used his shirt to wipe off the black blood from Thomas's mouth. It revealed that Thomas's lips were already purple, and on their way to turning blue. If they didn't get him to a hospital, he would get worse.

"Get him up," Derek said, taking him from under his armpits, "we're taking him to the hospital."

"Is that a good idea?" Malia asked, stepping close all the same and replacing Deaton where he had been near Thomas's legs.

"I don't know, but I have a feeling his body won't be able to handle any more supernatural cures. He needs normal medicine, but we've gotta go now if we want it to save him."

Together, the Hale cousins carried the unconscious form of the young werewolf while Deaton started up the engine of his work van. They placed him inside, finding some spare blankets inside and covering Thomas with them to try and get him warm. They drove off, speeding along the road, all of them praying that they would make it in time. No one spoke, too preoccupied with the dark possibility that he may not survive this. Malia was having a hard time holding her tears back. She had spent five days on the road with Thomas, getting to know him little by little, planning on having him meet the pack and get acquainted with Peter, and possibly getting a good show out of their first meeting, and now it seemed that it would depend on if h was still alive the next morning. It had been a short time that they had gotten to know each other, but she had grown to care for him and wanted to continue caring for him. After what felt like an eternity, they made it to Beacon Hills Memorial, Deaton not caring in the slightest how he parked and Deaton and Malia all but running into the hospital, calling out for help (Derek stays in the truck—remember, Derek's still a wanted man). Nurses and doctors came right over, directing Thomas over to a gurney and wheeling him over to a vacant room, keeping the other two back to get more information on how he got to his condition, telling the doctor everything they knew without mentioning what they were. It was out of their hands now.