RUNAWAY
[ BOOK THREE ] ✧
Evil never seemed to rest in Beacon Hills, so as soon as the Nogitsune issue had been dealt with, it was onto the next one; perhaps a deadlier one. Harper Verum and her supernatural friends find themselves on a hit list, lea...
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"WE'RE GONNA NEED to talk to a family member, Mr Stilinski," the doctor sighed, trying to ignore the teenage boy who wouldn't stop pestering him, "where's her foster mother? Melissa McCall?"
Stiles ran a hand through his hair, quickly becoming frustrated with the doctor who wouldn't tell him about his own girlfriend. Tears were already present in his hazel eyes, ready to fall at any moment.
"Goddammit, just tell me!" He seethed, smacking his hands against the wall, "do you see Melissa anywhere around here? Harper's an orphan! She has nobody but me!"
His words were exaggerated, but he needed the information confirmed. Harper didn't have only Stiles, Harper had all of her friends, plus Melissa and Noah. This doctor didn't need to know that though.
Stiles slumped down into one of the seats, hanging his head low, "she's the love of my life. I need to know if she's okay."
He watched as the doctor released a saddened sigh, giving into the teenage boy that he could see himself in. The doctor sat down on the seat next to Stiles, anxiously tapping on his clipboard before saying those two dreaded words:
"I'm sorry."
It was as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs and he was stunned into silence for a few long seconds. The thought of his girlfriend dead— cold and not breathing— was enough to send his heart into a frenzy and the tears to cascade down his cheeks. Stiles stood up and started to pace.
"No," he whispered before shouting, "no! No!"
Stiles released sobs that caused other patients and doctors to look at him from down the hall, sharing sympathetic glances. The teenage boy pulled at his hair, his heart hammering and his throat feeling like it was clogged with emotions.
"What happened?" He gritted his teeth through the years, grabbing the doctor by his jacket, "what the fuck happened to Harper?"
...
Harper laid down on her bed in one of Stiles' flannels and some jeans, anxiously pursing her lips together and drumming her fingers against the mattress. Her brown eyes focused on the stars that she had painted almost a year ago now, thoughts of her grandmother seeming to calm her down a little.
"Are you sure about this, Harper?" Scott hesitated, "I can do it instead."
"You said it yourself," the brunette exhaled loudly, recalling their previous conversations, "the Benefactor needs visual confirmation. They'll definitely come if the highest on the list is dead."
