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TWENTY THREE.
"What? How do—"
Sage was cut off when Deaton grabbed a hold of Scott, completely dismissing her. She wouldn't have thought twice about it seeing as though blood was seeping through Scott's shirt and not her's, but the way Deaton immediately knew to go to Scott came off as if he knew the werewolf was the source of the problem. Sage narrowed her eyes on the man, keeping a grip tightly onto her waist to ease the pain. She didn't trust him, especially since he seemed to know about the supernatural secret Beacon Hills was keeping. It didn't look like werewolves were the only thing he understood though.
"Sage, I understand you have a lot of questions, but right now I don't have time to give you the answers. They're going to be coming back, and I can't explain to either of you what you need to know in that amount of time," Deaton explained, rummaging through his cabinet until he found a bottle that Sage couldn't read from her position near the door. Scott didn't seem excited about whatever Deaton had in his hands, leaning back a bit as the veterinarian got a cotton ball wet.
"What is that?" Scott muttered, looking back towards Sage in concern. She rarely spoke the whole way to the clinic, only asking Scott if he was okay before letting out a series of painful groans herself. He saw the interaction between Derek and her, and he knew she wasn't okay about it. Derek made the choice to not only injure Scott, but to injure Sage as well. It was something Scott wondered if she would ever get over.
Deaton gave Scott a dumbfounded look, "Rubbing alcohol. You don't want it to get infected, do you?" Scott shook his head, and Sage couldn't help but stare at the body on the operation table. She knew he was a hunter, and no doubt had killed people exactly like Derek or Scott, but she couldn't help feeling bad that he died that way. Something was in Beacon Hills, and it was killing people. The biggest question is how long it will be before it kills one of her friends. "It will heal the same, just not as quickly because of Derek. Sage, I can give you some pain killers until the pain wears away but that's all."
"How do you know all of this?" Sage demanded, growing anxious the more Deaton spoke. He practically just confirmed that he knew how her abilities work and that she's not human. "Did my parent's tell you?"
"That's a long story, Sage. But I do know a lot about your kind," He looked between Scott and Sage, as if he were trying to let them know he knew everything about werewolves. Sage began to hope that Deaton knew what she was and could tell her before she went out of her freaking mind doing research. Ripping pieces of tape off with his teeth, Deaton began to patch up Scott, "Your kind, I can help. But this," He gestured towards the hunter, "is something else."
Scott shook his head, trying to grasp all of the information that was being thrown at his face, "Do you know what did it?"
"No, but the Argent's will, and this is the crucial part. They'll have some kind of record, or book, with descriptions, histories, notations. All of the things they've discovered," Deaton explained, rapidly moving his hands back and forth to get Scott to understand the importance of the object. Sage's interest perked up when she heard the part about 'all the things they have discovered' because that meant she might be in there. She might actually find out what she is.
"Things?" Scott exclaimed, "How many different things are there?"
Deaton went to reply, his eyes connecting with Sage's as he opened his mouth, "Sage can be classified as two things, one of them is a d—" Deaton's voice trailed off when there was a chime, signaling that someone had just arrived at the clinic. With wide eyes, Deaton pushed Scott as quietly and quickly over to Sage who was now standing straight and alert. The two struggled to stay upright as they were pushed together in the confined space, Scott heavily breathing on her shoulder. She shifted uncomfortably, the wound from Scott was pressed up against one of the hinges on the swinging door. She really needed to know what she was.
As Sage and Scott kept their identity a secret, both pressing their bodies tightly to the wall to try and remove any possible chance of the Argent's finding them, Deaton seemed to be controlling the matter at hand considerably well. "I'm starting to think I need to buy a more prominent closed sign."
Allison's dad began to move even further into the room, nearly stopping right in front of where Sage and Scott where situated. Fearing they would get caught, Sage backed up until she accidentally crashed into Scott, who gave her a glare that was still visible in the small source of light. When Sage peaked back into the room, her hand immediately went out to hit Scott in the chest. Gerard Argent was entering the clinic, his permanently stuck smug smirk appearing on his face.
"Hello, Alan," Gerard greeted, his musky voice continuing to fool Sage into thinking he was a smoker, "It's been a while. The last I heard, you had retired."
"The last I heard, you followed a Code of Conduct," Deaton retorted.
Chris spoke up after witnessing the rising tension between the two men, "If you hadn't noticed, this body is one of our's."
"I did. I also noticed the gun powder residue on his fingertips." Sage's eyebrows raised and she looked over at Scott in confusion. Who the hell were they hunting? "So don't assume I'll be swayed by your philosophy just because I'll answer a few questions."
"He was only twenty four."
Deaton turned to Chris and narrowed his eyes, "Killers come in all ages."
"Killers come in all different sizes and shapes. It's the last one that concerns us," Gerard remarked, raising his eyebrows as he stared at Deaton. Sage moved away from the window, wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean. Did they think the thing killing people was something other than a werewolf?
"So how about you tell us what you found," Argent finished. Deaton must have complied because there were a set of footsteps leading over to the body. Sage never looked back in fear of being caught. She noticed how the hunter Argent brought continued to glance around the room like he was waiting for something, or someone, to pop out.
Sage felt a shiver run down her spine when there was a series of cracking that resembled the sound bones breaking, "You see this cut? It's precise, almost surgical; but this isn't the wound that killed him. This had a more interesting purpose." Sage glanced over at Scott to see that he was breathing hard still, his muscles tensing from beside her.
"Relating to the spine?" Gerard asked.
"That's correct," Deaton praised, "Whatever made this cut is laced with a paralytic toxin potent enough to disable all motor functions. But these are the cause of death," Sage assumed he had to be gesturing towards the deep slashes she saw on his chest when she walked in, "do you notice the patterns on each side?"
"Five for each finger," Argent realized.
Gerard corrected his son, "Each claw."
"As you can see, it dug in and slashed upward, puncturing the lungs and slicing through the bone of the rib-cage with these...." Deaton paused, unsure of what word to use. It was clear they weren't the claws of a werewolf.
"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Argent wondered, looking at Deaton. Sage shifted, feeling a lump form in her throat. All she was thinking about was all of the possible people this creature could be, or better yet, what the creature even was. The only thing they knew about it was it could paralyze people now, it had claws, and quoting Scott, 'It looked like a big lizard.'
"No," Deaton admitted, shaking his head.
Argent didn't hesitate to ask another question, "Any idea at all what killed him?"
"No, but I can tell you it's fast, remarkably strong, and has the capacity to render it's victims essentially helpless within seconds."
"If you're saying we should be caution, we get it," Argent said.
"I'm saying you should be afraid, be very afraid. Because in the natural world, predators with paralytic toxins use them to catch and eat their prey. This prey wasn't eaten. That means whatever killed him only wanted to kill him. In fact, killing may be it's only purpose."
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"I told you, I just...I walked in and I saw the jeep on top of the guy. That's all," Stiles answered, playing around with his fingers. They still felt like they were asleep, almost how your hand goes stiff and it feels like a thousand needles are stabbing you at once. His head was constantly shooting up, alerted by every little sound in fear it was the thing coming back to finish him off. His dad had been interrogating him for the past twenty minutes, the first ten were spend acting as a father while the other half was acting as the Sheriff.
His dad seemed to take notice of how Stiles was rubbing his hand, "What's wrong with your hand?"
"Nothing," Stiles muttered, moving to shake his hand, hoping it would loosen up, "Can I just get out of here now?" He wanted to leave, he needed to get away to talk to his friends about what he saw.
"Look, if there's something you don't think you can tell me—"
Stiles scoffed, "You think I'm lying?"
"No, no, of course not. I'm just worried about you. And if you saw something devious, if you're afraid that maybe they're going to come back and make sure you don't say anything about it—" Sheriff was interrupted for the second time by his son as Stiles tried to convince his dad that he didn't witness the murder. And it was, in fact, a murder. Something killed the mechanic.
"Look, I didn't see anything. At all. Can I go now, please?"
Sheriff sighed in defeat, "Su—"
"Stiles!" Both Stilinski's turned to see a blonde girl glaring at the police deputy than was refusing to let her through. He was one of the newest, most likely not realizing that Sage was actually a friend of the Sheriff, and more than a friend to the son. "He's my boyfriend, asshole. Now let me through."
Deputy Dickhead looked over at Sheriff Stilinski for confirmation, in which he nodded in acceptance. After Sage was able to get through, throwing a dirty look towards Deputy Dickhead, she got towards Stiles who had stood up from the back of the ambulance. The boy immediately grabbed a hold of her, and she was pulled into his chest. It was an odd sense of déjà-vu back to the night when she was in the movie store with Jackson, the roles having been reversed. Stiles' face dug into her neck, and she frowned into his shirt, wondering what the hell happened.
"Stiles, what happened?" She mumbled, making sure that no one else was able to hear them. Sheriff was standing off to the side, talking with Deputy Dickhead while occasionally throwing glances towards them. It was sad to say they hadn't had time to tell him that they were dating, although her shouting to the deputy that they were now officially an item cleared that problem up. Everything was a whirlwind after the night at the ice rink, making Sage nostalgic for the days when she could just live as normal of a life as possible while being family friend's of werewolves.
Stiles kept his head in her neck, tightening the hold he had on her shoulders, "It was the same thing as Allison and Scott described. It just came out of nowhere, and—" Stiles paused, taking in a deep inhale of her hair. He was still shaken up about the whole thing. The worst part was the sound made when the car dropped down on the man. "—and it killed him."
"We've got to get out of here," Sage whispered back before pulling away, finally being able to see Stiles face. "Stiles, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Stiles agreed, clearing his throat before turning towards his dad. "Dad, we're leaving!"
Sheriff Stilinski excused himself from Deputy Dickhead, walking over to the two, "We're going to have to impound your jeep, Stiles. It's evidence." Stiles began to protest, letting out a collection of whines while his dad just walked away from him, going to speak to a few other people involved in the accident.
"At least make sure they wash it!" Stiles shouted towards his retreating father. He rolled his eyes only to look and see that Sage was putting her phone back into her pocket, giving Stiles a reassuring smile. "Did you text Scott?"
"Yup."
"Isn't he supposed to be with Allison tonight?"
"Yup."
"Does that mean we're going to be here for a while?"
Sage snorted, "Definitely."
They had been right about the wait, sitting in the backseat of the ambulance for a good thirty minutes just letting their eyes trail the scene in front of them. Stiles' hand had slipped into her's, and Sage couldn't help but smile. It was still new, being in a relationship with Stiles, but she was more than ready for a change. She was tired of dwelling on the past, she just needed someone that would be constant in her life. Stiles and her may still bicker a lot, but he is the only person that hasn't changed because of her parent's death.
Hell, just thinking about her life right now, she realized how much has changed in the past few months. Lydia Martin, a girl she used to compete with on who could turn their paper in faster or who wore the prettiest shirt that day, was now one of her only girl friends. Allison Argent, a girl who's aunt killed her entire family, is now the person she confided in when she was near tears. Scott McCall, a boy who she used to push off the swings, is now a teenage werewolf.
Derek.
Derek had completely changed. She returned to Beacon Hills with him thinking that it would be a week-long visit to their home town. Get Laura, get out, and relocate. When they found Laura dead in the woods, everything seemed to fall apart. Derek no longer told her his plans, or his thoughts. He was secretive, not even having told her that Peter was alive until she nearly died. She always thought that it would be Derek and her together forever. He, in some ways, filled the absence of her brother, Luke.
But now everything was gone.
"Sage, Scott's here," Stiles mumbled, giving her hand a squeeze as he stood up. Sage glanced over to see that Scott was in Melissa's car, and heaved herself from the ambulance to jog over. Sage was expecting for Stiles to get in the passenger's seat, but he slid into the back, keeping the door open so that she could follow after him.
Scott turned around to face them, frowning as he looked at his best friend, "You okay?"
"Yeah," Stiles assured, completely unconvincing. "You were right. The thing isn't like you. It's eyes were almost reptilian. But—but there was something about them." Stiles' eyes went to glance out the window where they were just now removing the deceased mechanic, and Sage quickly blocked his view with her body. He didn't need to be reminded of what happened.
"What?" Scott asked, confused. Stiles ended his sentence with a cliffhanger, no doubt making Scott's anticipation to know only increase as he further turned himself in his seat.
Stiles pursed his lips, "You know how when you, like, see a friend in a Halloween mask but all you can actually see are their eyes? And you feel like you know them but you just can't figure out who it is?"
"Are you saying you know who it is?"
"No," Stiles disagreed, finally meeting Scott's eyes, "But I think it knew me."
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The next day at school during free period, Sage found herself sitting beside Allison as they pulled apart twizzlers with their teeth. They were also waiting for Stiles to come back with his message from Scott. Apparently since Allison's parents were tracking her phone, there was no way for the two speak with each other. Even worse, they couldn't even associate in school because Gerard was the new principal. Allison already asked why herself and Scott weren't just using Stiles' and Sage's own phone to speak with each other. Sage simply replied by saying how amusing it was to watch Stiles run from two different sides of the school.
"So, how are you two? I mean, we all saw the kiss at the ice rink," Allison asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively as she took another chunk of the red candy. Sage scoffed, but there was still a hint of a smile creeping up on her face. "You really like him, don't you?"
Sage shrugged, "Stiles makes me happy."
"I know I've already apologized about formal—"
"Allison, honestly, if you apologize one more time I'm going to hit you," Sage threatened, pushing her book away from her body. She was tired of looking at numbers and shapes, all she wanted to do was go back to sleep. She'd barely gotten hours last night, and she honestly thought she was going to drop her head and crumble to the ground from exhaustion. She was also still healing from Scott's wound inflicted by Derek.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Um, Scott told me that you're researching about your abilities?" Allison asked as more of a question than a statement. Sage nodded, sitting up straighter. When Allison pulled something out of her pocket, Sage was quick to lean in and see what it said. There were a few words scattered around the page, 'Empath' being one of them as well as the word 'Altor'. Sage faintly remembered Stiles' telling her about how Peter brought up the word during formal when she was unconscious on the field. She's just never had a chance to look up anything about herself, shoving her own issues away to deal with her friend's.
"Altor?" Sage asked, pointing towards the bold word.
Allison's eyes lit up, "Yeah. I was researching the word since Scott said that's what Peter told Stiles, and I came up with this website. Half of the time it just said things like foster father, and other stuff like that, but then I came across this in one of the books my dad gave me." Allison pointed towards a passage, and Sage's eyes trailed over the words.
The word Altor roots back to Latin, meaning one who sustains or protects another. It is commonly renowned as the definition of a protector or leader of a pack, not to be confused with an Emissary. On rare occasions will the supernatural being connect to more than just a series of supernatural creatures, but humans as well. There have been many cases in the past involving the mental health of one who acquires the ability, leading back to the main reason these creatures exist: to protect. In many bestiaries, people refer to these creatures as guides or the sister's of Banshee's(see page four hundred and six). The most common name used for these creatures is Altor-
"Where's the rest of it?" Sage desperately asked, looking up at Allison. The page cut off directly after the word, seeming to taunt Sage. The passage did nothing but tell her that there was a possibility her abilities would drive her to insanity and that she was supposed to protect her friends. Not that she didn't know any of this already. She was already beginning to go insane trying to figure out what the second word was. "Allison, where is the rest of it?" She hadn't even realized her arms went out to grab a hold of Allison's biceps, nail accidentally scraping her bare skin.
When Sage looked down at her own arm, she noticed that the same cut was replicated on her own body. A lump formed in her throat and she thought she was going to choke, moving to get up from the bench. She was already loosing it. Her family died because of who they were, her family died protecting the Hale's for nothing. And Sage was failing them and her friends by not doing what she was supposed to.
"Sage—" Allison tried to speak, wanting to tell her that the cut wasn't a big deal, but Sage shook her head, staring at Allison with shock. A mutter of jumbled apologies fell from the blonde's mouth without her even realizing it, and Sage was backing away from her friend, the printed out paper that held the definition of Altor crumpled in her palm.
She was walking backwards when she crashed into a body, barely staring at Stiles when he moved to speak to her. She faintly heard the question "Are you okay?" come up, to which she nodded a few too many times than necessary. She needed to leave, she needed to be alone. She hurt Allison. Her family died because of this stupid word. Kate killed her family. Allison's aunt killed her family. The world was suffocating her as she scrambled around in the school hallway, faces blurring left and right until she focused on one standing on the opposite side from where she was, directly in front of the trophy case.
"Peter?"
Sage nearly ran over a few kids as she pushed her way through the hallway, trying to crane her neck in order to keep an eye on the person in front of the trophy case. As soon as she got there, nearly tripping on the few stairs she had to go down, it seemed like no one was ever present. Sage huffed out, letting a strangled laugh fall from her mouth as she twirled around the hallway to see if anyone noticed her slowly loosing her mind.
She hadn't even realized that a pair of eyes had been tracing her every move.
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n.e.
Okay, so I want to talk about the ending more than anything. I'm sure people are going to be thinking that Sage is a banshee or whatever, but she isn't. I actually created her abilities and her name, the whole nine yards. We see in the next chapter what the word that was hidden is, and the truth about what Sage is. Now, because Sage is considered as a supernatural sister to a banshee, I can tell you that she doesn't scream, she acquires the injuries of others. They're both their own kind of way to predict that death is coming. Much like Lydia, Sage will continue to find out just what her abilities extend to throughout the seasons.
So, yeah. I hope you all liked the chapter. I enjoyed writing Sage's thoughts on what's happened to her life so far in Beacon Hills as well as the tiny scene Stage has when they hug. I will forever love them, and I'm excited to explore more scenes with them because they're extremely fun to write. I kind of want to change Sage's face claim, but I don't know if you all will get upset about that since you're used to Amber Heard as Sage. I've just been looking at pictures of Amber and realizing how she doesn't necessarily look like a sophomore. Also, I hit 800 followers! Thank you guys so much! I absolutely love you all.
You guys go follow @TeenWolfCommunity because a group of us TW writers have come together to try our best to end the issues of plagiarism and copying. xx