Full Moon ☾ Derek Hale

Chapter Thirty: Battlefield (Part 1)

"Deaton!" Derek yelled.

There was yelling. So much yelling. I was calling out for my parents. No one called back. 

"Derek, what was so urgent that you needed me to come in at —" Deaton cut himself off when he entered the room. 

"She was shot. I need you to help her."

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Reality and the past melted into one. I couldn't tell what was real and what was a hallucination. My mind went back and forth between the past and present, leaving me in a daze. Derek laid me down on one of the metal examination tables in the back room. I could barely feel the cold metal against my skin. I opened my eyes, glaring up to the bright shining fluorescent mounted to the ceiling. 

The fluorescent inside the ambulance blinded my eyes. The EMT's lifted my quivering body onto a gurney as they began looking and assessing my bullet wounds, speaking in medical tongue that only proceeded to confuse me more.

"I'm not a doctor, Derek. You should have brought her to the hospital."

"She wouldn't let me!" He barked. "She told me to only bring her here. You've helped Scott before, can't you help her?" Deaton walked over to me, taking a scissor to the bullet hole in my dress. He cut away the fabric at the torso.

"What happened?"

"The Kanima master." Deaton paused, looking up to Derek, not bothering to hide his shock.

"They found out who it was?"

"Some kid in their school. And if Gerard took care of him like he said he would, the kids not a problem anymore."

"Gerard was there?" Derek gritted his teeth at the question. It was just a reminder of Scott's betrayal.

"Yes." Deaton didn't respond. He deeply sighed, knowing that if Gerard had anything to do with the Kanima now, it would be even worse than the damage Matt inflicted. Taking a towel, Deaton wipe away blood from the bullet wound. Derek's vision moved down, glaring at the two-inch scar right beside the fresh hole, his thick brows narrowing. 

"She's lucky. Nothing serious is damaged. Looks like the bullet only managed to go through scar tissue." Deaton informed after inspecting the found. My vision began focusing and unfocusing like a broken camera lens. 

The EMT's hovered. I couldn't feel their latex touch against my skin. All my senses were drifting away. "There's some serious damage here." One of the EMT's mumbled to his partner. I didn't want these strangers taking care of me. I wanted my parents.

"Lucky?" Derek snorted. "She got shot." 

"I said nothing serious was damaged, Derek. I'm talking major organs. That doesn't mean she's not hurt. I think you've been shot at enough to understand the situation. Now stop arguing and help me." Deaton chided. Deaton began rummaging through cabinets, finally pulling out a tank and medical equipment and rushing to set it up. Before I knew it, he placed an oxygen mask over my face, holding it down with his hands. 

The EMT's began poking and prodding my body, one taking an oxygen mask and reaching forward to strap it around my face. I began whispered to the EMT's, desperate to get their attention. The sound of oxygen overpowered my words. 

My lips parted and a mix of words of inaudible words fell out of my mouth. Deaton and Derek looked at each other, unsure of what I said. Deaton paused, lifting the clear mask above my face. 

"Hayley, what did you say?" He questioned, his head cocking.

"Help them. Please. Help my parents." I mumbled to the EMTs. They shot each other looks of despair.