Gather The Ashes || Stilinski || Book Three

Forty-Three

A dread doctor loomed over him, the sharp tool in his gloved hand inching closer to the boy's torso. The Surgeon.

Lydia felt weak at seeing his skin being pulled back, a dark blue glow emitting from his organs. All three Dread Doctors clicked--in anger or disappointment she couldn't tell. "Your condition worsens," one said.

Lydia watched in horror, unable to look away.

From where she stood the doorway, Sierra saw Lydia freeze. In her eyes, there weren't any dread doctors or a boy sobbing in a chair. Lydia was alone, her mouth agape--too petrified to move.

Sierra stepped towards Lydia in concern, but a voice called out.

"Sierra, you've got to stay awake for me, okay?"

She stopped.

Her head turned back to the door and tilted to the side.

"But it hurts," a smaller voice slurred, breaking in two.

Sierra marched over to the door, pushing it open with one hand. She stopped in the middle of the dark hallway, whipping her eyes around. Her chest tightened as the voices grew, her feet leading her away from Lydia.

"I know, little sis, I know...but you've got to stay awake, alright? Mom and Dad are coming, so you've got to stay awake."

A sharp pain ripped through her right leg. The sheer feeling made Sierra stumble, her body falling against the hospital wall. Her vision clouded, her knuckles turning white from how tightly she gripped the railing. Looking down, she cried out.

Blood. So much blood.

"It hurts," she heard the small voice cry again. "Jemma, it hurts."

Sierra fell, unable to support herself as sweat dripped down her forehead. Her palms slammed against the ground, dead autumn leaves stirring up from the impact. She could make out tall trees above her, their bare limbs stretching across the preserve.

One girl leaned over where Sierra laid, her face blurred. But Sierra felt comfort in her presence. "What happened?" the girl suddenly questioned, Sierra groaning. "Did he follow you?"

"No," a boy's voice flitted through Sierra's ears. "He just took off."

"Deucalion never just takes off," the girl argued in a hushed whisper.

"Well he did this time." There was a pause before he asked, "Is she okay?"

"I don't know." The girl sounded terrified. "I'm trying to get the bleeding to stop but nothing's working."

Sierra whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut.

"No, no, no," the girl rushed out and Sierra felt a hand grab hers. "Sierra, open your eyes."

A sob escaped Sierra, the burning sensation from her leg radiating all the way up her small body. She couldn't see the flesh shredded against her calf, the deep claw marks reaching all the way up to her knee.

"Open your eyes," the boy repeated, just as desperate as his counterpart. His voice was thick, "Sierra, it's me. Your DerBear, remember?"

Sierra didn't respond. She just kept crying. Her leg felt numb now.

"We gotta get her to my mom," the girl decided. "Can you carry her?"

The boy answered, "Yeah, I got her."

Sierra felt herself being lifted up, and she curled her body into the chest of whomever carried her. "You're okay, Sierra," the boy soothed. "You're going to be okay. Just hold on for us. Hold on."