˗ˏˋ⋆ H E A V E N L Y ⋆ˎˊ˗
↳ 𝒙𝒙𝒗𝒊. 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕-𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓
𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧, 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦
(ℭ𝔬𝔡𝔢 𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔯)
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GRACIE HALE SCREAMED AS A WHITE-HOT ACHE SOARED THROUGHOUT HER body, radiating from her neck as it spread down her spine. It was literally the worst pain she had ever felt by far.
Pulling away from his niece, Peter threw her on the ground next to Stiles. The Stilinski boy scrambled to help her, leaning her up against the car next to them. Once she was settled, holding her wound with her hand, Stiles jumped to his feet and glowered at Peter.
"Don't you understand yet? I'm not the bad guy here," Peter told him, wiping his niece's blood from his lips.
Stiles scoffed, giving him an angry look. "You turn into a giant monster with red eyes and fangs, and you're not the bad guy here?"
Peter stepped towards him. "I like you, Stiles. Since you've helped me, I'm going to give you something in return. Do you want the bite?"
Stile froze, his eyes widening at Peter's offer. "...What?"
"Do you want the bite?" Peter repeated. "If it doesn't kill you -- and it could -- you'll become like us."
"Like you," Stiles realized.
"Yes, a werewolf," Peter took another step towards him. "Would you like me to draw you a picture? That first night in the woods, I took Scott because I needed a new pack. It could've easily been you. You'd be every bit as powerful as him. No more standing by his side, watching him become stronger, and quicker, more popular, watching him get the girl. You'd be equals. Maybe more."
Peter grabbed Stiles' arm, bringing it up to his face. Stiles could see the blood from Gracie's bite dripping down her arm and staining her white dress. Her face was almost so pale that it seemed translucent and her eyes were shut, as though she was asleep. The only two things that told him she was actually awake were the tremors wracking her body and the whimpers of pain escaping her lips.
"Yes or no?"
Stiles' eyes flickered back to Peter, hardening. Even if he did want to be stronger or to be Scott's equal, he didn't want to be a werewolf like Peter.
"I don't wanna be like you," Stiles hissed, ripping his arm away when Peter's fangs came out.
Peter let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Do you know what I heard just then? Your heart beating slightly faster over the words 'I don't want.' You may believe that you're telling me the truth, but you are lying to yourself. Goodbye, Stiles."
With that, Peter got into his nurse's car and drove away, leaving Stiles behind with no car keys.
As Peter drove away, not giving Gracie a second glance, Stiles rushed over to her, kneeling down in front of her. He never left her side when he called 9-1-1,
giving them whatever excuse he could think of and that they needed an ambulance at. It took fifteen minutes for the ambulance to get there, and when they did, it was all a blur.
When Gracie was rushed to the emergency room, he stayed back to give a nurse some of her details. By the time he was done, he was being questioned by a deputy.
Almost an hour had passed before he went up to the trauma floor, intending to see how Gracie was doing. He ran up the stairs, not having enough patience to wait for a slow elevator, and burst onto the floor, seeing multiple police officers mulling about.
"You know what?" His father rushed over, stopping him in his tracks. "It's good that we're in a hospital, because I'm gonna kill you."
Stiles clenched his jaw and looked over his dad's shoulder, spotting Gracie in one of the trauma rooms. She was laying in the ICU with tubes down her throat connected to a ventilator. Other tubes and wires were connected to monitors and an IV. A bandage was wrapped around her neck, holding the skin that was left after Peter ripped a chunk out of her with his teeth.
There were two nurses there with her, including Melissa, which made Stiles feel better, and a doctor in surgical scrubs
"Stiles!" Noah yelled, trying to get his attention.
"I'm-I'm sorry," his son breathed, looking back at the Sheriff. "I lost the keys to my jeep, and then Gracie was attacked, so I had to wait for the ambulance--"
"--Stiles, I don't care!" His dad snapped at him, raising his voice.
"Is she gonna be okay?" Stiles asked, his voice breaking as he looked back at the brunette.
Noah's face softened hen he saw the devastated look on his son's face. He rested a hand on his shoulder in support. "I don't know. They managed to control the bleeding and gave her a blood transfusion, but it still doesn't look good."
Stiles eyes widened in horror and he froze. "What do you mean?"
"In the emergency room, her heart had stopped for for a a few minutes before they were able to revive her," Noah explained, recalling what the doctor told him. "The doctor's believe that it could've been from the blood loss. While they're doing everything they can, they're worried her brain might've not gotten enough oxygen."
"Meaning...?" Stiles had an idea of what his father meant. He just didn't want it to be true.
"She could have brain damage," his dad clarified. "They'll just have to wait to see what happens when she wakes up." Stiles shook his head, trying to process everything. "Now, Lydia, on the other hand, they're not sure about her. Partially because they don't know what attacked her."
Stiles looked into the window of Lydia's room, seeing that she had a breathing mask attached to her face. She at least looked in better condition than Gracie.
"She just got out of surgery a few minutes ago," Noah continued. "They fixed her up but something else is going on with her. The doctors say it's like she's having an allergic reaction. Her body keeps going into shock." Stiles stiffened as at his dad's words as he watched Lydia's mother sitting by her side. "Did you see anything? I mean, do you have any idea who or what attacked her?"
"No, I have no idea," Stiles shook his head and told his dad the same thing he told the deputy downstairs. "...but Gracie was attacked by an animal. I didn't see what kind, it...it all kind of happened quickly."
Noah nodded understandably. "What about Scott?"
"What do you mean?" Stiles gave him a confused look. "What about him?"
"Did he see anything?" "What do you-is he not here?"
If Scott wasn't here, that meant that he was one of the wolves that they heard howling earlier.
"What are you talking about?"
Noah crossed his arms over his chest. "I've been calling him on his cell phone. I've gotten no response."
Stiles looked around his dad again, locking eyes with Jackson, who was waiting by Lydia's room. Jackson shook his head, silently telling Stiles that he hadn't heard from the werewolf. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his buzzcut.
"Yeah, you're not gonna get one."
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"DAD!" STILES CALLED OUT, SPOTTING HIS DAD DOWN THE HALL. HE RAN towards him, hoping that he'd be given some information. He knew that Derek was being kept at the Hale house but he didn't know much more than that. "Dad, can I--?"
"--Stiles, just go wait with your friends, all right?" His dad ordered, patting his arm and turning to walk away.
"Dad, tell me what's going on," Stiles demanded, catching up to him. "Look, you know it has something to do with Derek."
"What?" Noah stopped in his tracks. "I thought you two said you barely knew him."
"All right, we might know him a little better than that," Stiles admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I mean, he's Gracie's brother."
Noah looked at him in disbelief and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him away from the other police officers. "You do realize that I'm elected to this job, right?"
"And if I help you figure this out, you'll be re-elected," Stiles snarked. "Am I right? Dad, come on."
Noah let go of Stiles and stopped walking, sighing heavily. "You know what, Lydia Martin has got nothing to do with a six-year-old arson case."
Stiles froze; the last he heard from his dad, the case was still unsolved. "When did you decide it was definitely arson?"
"When we got a key witness," before Stiles could ask, Noah shook a finger at him. "And, no, I'm not telling you who it is...but yeah, we know it's arson. And it was probably organized by a young woman."
"What young woman?"
"If I knew that, she'd be in jail."
"Was she young then or is she young now?"
"She's probably in her late twenties," Noah's phone rang and he looked at the caller ID. "Oh, I gotta grab this call."
"You don't know her name?" Stiles grabbed his arm to stop him from walking away.
"No, I don't-what is this, twenty questions?" Noah pulled away from Stiles' grip. "All we know is that she had a very distinctive-what do you call it-a pendant."
Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. "What the hell's a pendant?"
"Stiles, do you go to school? A pendant! It's a necklace. Now, can I answer the phone?"
Stiles waved Noah off and went back to Gracie's room. Thankfully, Melissa had left, so he was able to get into her room.
"You were right. You and Derek, both of you, were right about Kate. She was the one who burned down your house," he told Gracie, staring down at her. "I'm coming back, okay? We're gonna find Derek and bring him back, and everything's gonna be fine."
With that Stiles left the room. He was halfway down the hall when Jackson called after him and catching up to him. "Stiles, hey, where are you going?"
"To find Scott," Stiles spat, having no patience for Jackson.
"You don't have a car," Jackson said unhelpfully.
"I'm aware of that. Thank you."
"Here, I'll drive," Jackson offered, grabbing Stiles' arm and pulling him to a stop. "Come on."
Stiles ripped his arm from his grasp and glowered at him. "Look, just because you feel guilty all of a sudden doesn't make it okay, all right? Half of this is still your fault."
"Look, I have a car. You don't. Do you want my help or not?"
"All right. Did you bring the Porsche?"
"Yeah."
"Good. I'll drive."
They weren't able to take a step towards the lobby when the elevator reached the ground floor, and Chris Argent and two men they didn't recognize blocked their view.
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄:
So there's chapter twenty-six. Only one more chapter left and then we're onto season two. If you did like it, please comment, vote, and share it.