She'd taken them to Deaton first, he helped heal both Scott and Derek although his focus was on Scott. All of their focus was on Scott. Derek was an alpha, the chances of him healing just fine were far higher than the sixteen year olds. After that, she went to drop Derek off first.
The three sat in his depot for a moment, just catching their breath and coming to terms with their emotions.
"I'm saying we need a new plan, because next time, one of us is going to be too hurt to heal," Derek reminded, and Julie was leaning against one of the pillars her eyes closed.
"Ugh, I get it-- we can't save Jackson," Scott sighed, not liking the idea of it.
"We can't seem to kill him, either. I've seen a lot of things, Scott. I've never seen anything like this. Every new moon's just gonna make him stronger."
"But how do we stop him?" Scott asked.
"I don't know. I don't even know if we can."
"Maybe we should just let the Argents handle it..."
"Then the Argents will just kill him," Julie reminded, "we've still got to try." Although, she really didn't want to.
"I'm the one who turned him. It's my fault," Derek said, and Julie looked to him surprised. He really was trying to change.
"Yeah, but you didn't turn him into this! I mean, this happened because of something in his past, right?"
"That's a legend in a book. It's not that simple," Derek scoffed.
"What do you mean? What aren't you telling me?"
"Why do you think I'm always keeping something from you?"
"Because you always are keeping something from me!"
"Well, maybe I do it to protect you."
"Doesn't being part of your pack mean no more secrets?"
"Go home, Scott. Sleep. Heal. Make sure your friends are safe... 'Cause the full moon's coming, and with the way things are going, I've got a feeling it's gonna be a rough one."
"Come on, Scott, I want to go home myself," Juliette sighed, as she pushed herself up from the pillar.
She was in work in less than three hours.
______
"Not long left," Joe mused, and Julie glanced at him confused as she flicked through the charts. Her eyes focused on him toying with a stress ball. She'd never seen him with that in her life.
"What are you waffling on about?"
"We've only got a few weeks left," he repeated.
"'till what?"
Joe looked at her confused and startled, "what do you mean until what?"
"I don't have a clue what you're going on about," she admitted.
"The end of intern year. We've only got a few weeks left and then we're officially residents. I applied to be a trauma surgeon here."
She looked at him confused as she thought about it. She'd completely forgotten.
"Oh... wait, what? You sat there harassing me and bullying me because I picked here for my residency."
"Yeah, because you're doing neuro. If you want trauma cases, Beacon Hills is the best place to be," he reminded, and she hummed. "I mean just this morning multiple people came in with skull fractures, and unconscious from that warehouse district. You know where they have all the underground raves? I'm surprised none of them had bullet wounds with the amount they found surrounding them."
She looked at him in surprise. Did she tell him that she was there? That she was the one who alerted ambulance services. Did she tell them that they weren't shooting at each other, but instead people who were trying to stop a homicidal lizard from killing someone else?
Wanting to distract herself, she nodded to the stress ball. "What's that about?"
"I don't know," he shrugged, "I'm just feeling antsy, you know? Like something's about to happen..." he mused.
Scoffing, she shut the file in front of her, "tell me about it."
"Are you ready for a busy day and night?" Melissa called out, as she walked past them. The pair looked at her confused, "it's a full moon tonight, brings out all the lunatics," she admitted.
Both Joe and Julie looked at her startled, "sounds great," Joe droned.
______
"Dr. Stilinski," a voice called out, and she turned around to see Dr. Moore, one of the neurosurgeons. "I'd like you to take care of patient interactions," he said as he handed her a set of files, "informing the patient of their post-op reports. Giving them the good news."
"Oh, thank you," she said, as she flicked through them to see if she recognised any of the names from patients she'd already seen. "I'll get to it," she added, as she began to walk away.
She was three patients in, and it was all saying the same thing with how well it had went and how they would be kept in for observation. A smile for show and a grimace for the heart. They were the hunters. She didn't respect them. She didn't respect what they did, she could have done but after they'd attacked Scott, after knowing how they caught out werewolves, after knowing how they torture them. It was a good intention turned barbaric.
Entering the last room, she went in with her usual smile. "Mr Swanson," she greeted, "my name is Dr. Stilinski, I'm pleased to say..." getting a good look at the man in the bed before her, her smile fell. She could feel the heat fall from her body as that same old fear churned inside her.
The very same hunter.
"You," he rasped out.
Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath before continuing, "your skull fracture repair went perfectly and you're due to make a great recovery. They'd like to keep you in for a couple of weeks, if you have any more questions Dr. Moore will answer them," she dismissed before quickly making her way out of the room.
All noise had gone except the echo of her own breath and heart beat. Leaning against a wall, she closed her eyes trying to catch her breathing. She couldn't seem to remember how to do it. The mere thought of getting the oxygen into her lungs was foreign to her, like the first time you see a complicated algebra equation and you can't fathom how you ever did even the simplest of maths.
The gun was right there.
That coldness, the nausea, the emptiness, what if there was nothing afterwards?
Feeling it all arise within her again, she stumbled away feeling the burning sensation in her eyes. She couldn't breathe.
Bringing her quivering hand to her neck, it fell down as she pressed it against the walls keeping her from collapsing into them.
"Juliette? You okay?" A voice sounded, but she couldn't quite figure out who it belonged to.
Running away from them, she found an empty room and forced her way in. Shutting the door, she brought her hand to her throat trying to clutch for air. She must have been getting it somehow otherwise she'd be unconscious by now, surely.
But the gun was right there. The kanima was there, the alpha was there. It was all right in front of her, the sound of the lizard's hiss, the roar of the alpha. The sound of Jennifer hitting the floor, and the feel of her empty pulse.
19:23. 11:48, two time of deaths that were caused by the supernatural, and they were the two she knew the times for. Never mind the countless others that didn't get a time.
Feeling tears burning her eyes, she tried to release a sob but it couldn't come out.
"Juliette?!" A voice sounded again, as the door opened, "hey, what's wrong? Jules what's wrong?" They asked, taking hold of her arms as they did so.
"I can't- I- I can't breathe," she rasped out.
"It's okay-"
"No, I can't- I can't breathe!"
"You're alright, Juliette, look at me. Look at me." She tried, but every aching bone in her body just wanted to sleep. "Okay, Jules, sit on the floor with me. Come on, let's slowly lower ourselves..."
She went with the person, and she could feel the gentle hands on her own arms. "Breathe with me, I know it's difficult but you're doing so well... just match my breathing. You're going to be okay."
"N-no, I'm not..."
"You're going to be okay!" They repeated, their voice sterner than it was before.
The cold surface of the floor sunk into her scrubs, but it was an odd comfort. It was real.
"You're going to be okay, just breathe with me," Melissa urged, as she held the much younger girl, "you're going to be okay. You're going to be okay."
What was initially a burst of panic, slowly turned into normal crying but Melissa stayed there. Her arms wrapped around Juliette, and her head resting on top of the blondes.
"You're going to be okay," she'd keep saying, not knowing the words were only making it worse. Because she was not going to be okay, not when there were monsters disguised as people running around killing those around her. Not when they had to lie to everyone to protect them. But was it really protecting them? Did not knowing make it any safer than knowing?
And she had no one to talk to, because the only other person her age who knew was apart of it. Had been processing it since he was born, and everyone else was just kids. They were all just kids, and she was watching these kids kill and be killed.
"You're going to be okay."
"I want my mom," she cried, and Melissa nodded.
"I know sweetie, I know you do..."
______
Ditching her bag on the kitchen table, she slugged her way up the stairs her hands grazing the wall as she tried to balance herself. She was exhausted, and it was the full moon tonight. Meaning she was expecting a call or two, anything. Because something would go wrong.
"Hey, whatcha doing?" Noah asked, as he looked over his son. Jules looked at him confused as she peered into the room herself.
"Homework..." Stiles said, evasively.
"It's spring break," Noah said, before he looked over Stiles' screen, "what do you think you're doing?" He had police records up, and a few year books in front of him.
"Oh, I'm just satisfying my own curiosity..." Stiles countered.
"With illegal activity?" Jules droned, as she entered Stiles' room and chose to collapse on his bed instead of her own.
"We brought Harris in this morning for questioning," Noah asked, and Stiles looked at him confused, "they brought him in." That was the word that caught Jules' attention.
"And?"
"And they're working on a warrant to arrest him for the murders."
"For all of them?" Stiles asked.
"Enough of them."
"With what proof?"
"You remember the couple at the trailer? Tire tracks nearby match Harris' car."
Stiles looked over confused, that didn't make sense to him, "wha- that's not enough."
"The same car was also seen outside the hospital where the pregnant wife was killed. It's got some bumper sticker on it, a quote from Einstein--"
"What quote?" Julie asked.
"Something about imagination and knowledge..."
""Imagination is more important than knowledge." Yeah, I saw the same car parked outside the rave," Stiles admitted.
"I saw a gun," Julie droned.
"That means you're both a witness. You're gonna have to give statements," Noah urged.
"But what about the concert promoter, Kara? She wasn't in Harris' class, right? I mean, what does Mr. Lahey have to do with Harris?" Stiles asked, not understanding how it all linked together.
"It doesn't matter-- the tire tracks put Harris at the site of three murders. That's damning evidence."
"No, it's not enough-" Stiles urged.
"I thought you hated this guy?"
"I don't hate him, all right? He hates me. And, you know, if he killed them all, then yeah, lock the psycho up. But, there's something missing. There's gotta be something missing..."
"You make it sound like you hate him," Julie countered, agreeing with their dad.
"Hey. Hey, you don't have to solve this for me."
"No, I have to do something," Stiles urged, as he flicked through the year book. Noah pulled it from him, and both Stiles and Julie looked over at their father confused, "what?"
"Look at the swim team."
"Dad, the coach-- it's Isaac's dad!"
"Aren't you supposed to be getting a party?" Julie asked, as she saw the date circled on the calander.
"Oh, crap-"
"Language," Noah urged, as Stiles bolted from his chair and went to get changed. "I'll alert the station about what we found."
______
She couldn't sleep.
Every minute, she found herself checking her phone to make sure that no one had called her or text her or anything. That there were no news alerts about new 'animal attacks'. It was a full moon, there were bound to be someone. Especially when there was more untrained werewolves out there, now.
She trusted Derek to keep them under control, but she didn't trust them to not break out. All it took was one supernatural creature.
What if it was the hunters? A wolfsbane bullet to them and they wouldn't heal, and then they'd end up in the hospital and the doctors would lose a patient because they wouldn't be able to work out how to heal them.
Had medicine for werewolves and other supernatural creatures even been tested? All of Deaton's method's that she'd seen looked outdated. Effective, but old.
But people didn't even know about it. How were they supposed to received appropriate care when no one is being taught how to heal them, if the werewolves themselves don't know how to heal themselves then how is anyone else supposed to?
Were there clinics just for werewolves? Just for kanimas and other supernaturals? What was even out there?
Hearing the sound of her phone going off, chills fell through her body.
She didn't recognise the number. What if it was the Kanima or it's master?
'Hale house, the preserve. Need help.'