Into the Wreckage ▸ Scott McCall (3)

ii. TAKE ME TO CHURCH

"Is she gonna tell us where?" Malia demanded, arms crossed over her chest.

"Actually, she's giving us a guide," Scott informed, confusing the teenagers even more. This day was definitely taking an unexpected turn of events. One minute they were knocking on death's door, and now Araya was giving them a guide for their mission.

It was then when the rumbling of a motorcycle could be heard in the distance, all of their heads whipping in its direction to see someone decked out in leather approaching them. Foster couldn't decipher what they looked like due to their helmet, the motorcycle cutting its stop close near Stiles. Hence why the spastic boy practically jumped back, all of them sharing odd looks with one another.

The woman tore off her helmet, her long, black locks cascading down her back. Foster took notice of four long scratches running along her cheek and down her throat, eyes widening at the sight. That must have been incredibly painful.

Pointing toward the woman, Stiles demanded, "Do you know her?"

Familiar with who the woman was, Scott murmured, "Breaden."

"Who's Braeden?" Kira inquired, Lydia pursing her lips slightly.

"She's a mercenary," Lydia informed, Braeden's eyes raking along the teenagers in front of her.

"Right now I'm the only one who's going to take you to La Iglasia," the mercenary informed, Foster raising a brow at the sound of the place. What was La Iglasia, and why did it give a nerve wracking feeling to Foster?

"The church?" Lydia inquired, familiar with the building. Of course, if anyone knew, it would be Lydia. 

"What's the church?" Foster questioned in confusion, glancing back and forth between Braeden and Lydia.

"It's a place you won't find God," she merely informed, tugging her helmet back on before pulling up in front of the jeep and revving her engine.

The teenagers took that as their cue to pile back into Roscoe, Foster dreading how tight of a squeeze it was. For Stiles and Scott it wasn't, for Lydia, Foster, Kira, and Malia it was by a long shot. Four girls squeezed together in the back of a jeep meant to hold three did not make for good comfort. Not to mention that they'll have to get Derek to somehow fit in here. 

As Stiles made his way over to the driver's seat and Foster waited behind the three girls to climb in, she finally found herself standing beside Scott, her heart racing. She was terrified about what he thought of her now, she didn't want to let him down by doing what she did. For some reason, knowing how good Scott was as a person, she almost felt pressured to live up to his standards. He was everything any hero would aspire to be, he was so good it was cringe worthy to any villain. But for Foster, it made her heart soar.

Before she could climb in, she felt Scott's hand wrap around her shoulder, tugging her back. Confused, and her heart now beating even faster, Foster glanced over at him.

Concern was written across his face, Scott asking, "Hey, are you okay? Your heart's racing like a mile a minute."

Foster felt herself gape at that, looking like a fish out of water. Slowly, she echoed, "Am I okay? Scott, I practically electrocuted with a gazillion gigawatts."

Not seeming anywhere near as fazed by the incident, Scott merely leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss atop her forehead. "It's not your fault, you had to."

With that, he then climbed into his spot and shut the door, leaving Foster to slide into the spot beside Kira and behind Scott, her stomach all warm and fuzzy. 

How was she, someone who was so damaged and pathetically normal, the one who got lucky enough to be with Scott McCall? It was a question she asked herself everyday, but she couldn't help but be thankful for it.