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Lone Wolf

Chapter Text

The rain whipped into the alpha's eyes. His hands and feet moved in perfect sync, claws stirring up the wet ground, clods of dirt flying. The sky was lit up with lightning, followed barely seconds later by a mighty clap of thunder that shook the earth. The scent of blood was difficult to follow in such weather.

The air was heavy and low grumblings warning of a storm could be heard in the distance. Sulking over the wheel, Stiles's shoulders were hunched and he leaned forward.
"Twenty calls, Scott." He slapped the steering wheel and flinched, cradling his hand and sucking his wounded knuckle.

"Well maybe making them all in a ro-"

A lightning bolt flashed in front of the jeep, splitting the darkness and blinding both passenger and driver through the windshield.

"Shit!"

Yelling, Stiles groped for the wheel and felt the jeep veer to the left, toward the forest. He felt his palm contact the edge of the wheel. Scott pitched forward, his head impacting the dashboard. White spots exploded behind is eyelids and a sharp pain gripped his head all the way from his eyes to the back of his skull. He felt sick.

He could hear Stiles yelling obscenities at the very top of his human lungs.

"Stiles!" The vehicle was out of control and Scott could hear it's tires screeching very clearly. Waving his hands out to his left side, he made a blind grab and caught Stile's collar in his fist.

He yanked his best friend bodily over the gearstick and ignoring his prolific curses, wrapped his arms around what he hoped was his Stiles's head and neck, shoving him down and throwing himself over him, bracing the both of them for impact. The metal-crunching crash he was expecting never came. Instead something smacked into the windshield with a loud, glass-splitting thud. The wheels of the jeep skipped to a halt in a ditch.

His vision was still spotty, but when he raised his head he clearly saw a small female body roll to a stop a few feet away in the sketchy beam of the headlights. Slowly, she got to her feet, clutching her left arm, blood dripping over her fingers. She backed away, the scent of fear filling the air as another figure stepped into the beam of the jeep's headlights.

The rain plastered his hair to his skull. He advanced on his quarry, each step carefully deliberated.

Stiles sat up, rubbing his forehead.

"Are you okay?" Scott nodded, brushing at his forehead. Only a few drops of blood remained on the mended skin.

Suddenly, the girl bolted, crashing through the forest. The man followed in hot pursuit.

"I'm going." Scott said and slammed the door of the jeep behind him, stepping oht into the driving rain.

She ran, tripping over roots and stones, bruising her shins more than once. Pain shot up her arm, stabbing each and every nerve like a million poisoned spines. her neck ached terribly, but she kept looking over her shoulder, expecting each glance to be her last.
She crashed into the clearing, heard him catch up behind her. The blood drained from her face and she turned, meeting his eyes.

“You’re certainly a stubborn one.” The alpha’s eyes glowed red, his speech only slightly distorted by the famgs protruding from his mouth.

She backed away, her each step backwards mirroring a step he took forwards. She came up against something behind her and stopped, met his eyes.

Scott broke into the clearing just in time to see him wrap his fingers around the girl’s throat, his claws sinking deep into her flesh. Her hands jerked, scrabbling uselessly at his wrist, a gurgle issuing from her open jaws.

Then his hand other hit her, square in the chest and she was thrown backwards, her throat separated from her neck with a sickening slurp. Her body hit the scarred wood of the Nemeton with a wet thud. Drops of rain splashed down into her open eyes and washed the blood down onto the tree stump. Her arm was stretched out in front of her, the fingers of her right hand twitching like the legs of a spider in it’s dying moments. Her eyes flickered, flashing a brilliant luminous gold for a split second before they went dark.

It had hurt at first, more than anything ever had before but everything just seemed to fade now. She couldn’t hear the sounds of the rain striking the leaf-littered ground or the clap of thunder following the lighting that streaked across the roiling clouds above.

“Hey, I’ve got you. It’s okay.” She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his lips moved as he picked her up, cradling her lolling head in his hamd. Blood had soaked the collar of her loose T shirt, staining the blue fabris a dark plum colour.

Scott gingerly replaced the the pieces of the girl’s windpipe into her throat, like a piecing together slimy jigsaw puzzle, knowing it was useless. He should be comforting her in her last moments. Her heartbeat was unsteady, but still audible. To his amazement, the flesh began to heal, painstakingly kitting back together, fibre by fibre until she took a wheezing, rattling breath. Her eyelids fluttered and she stared up at him for a brief second before they shut.

"Drive!" Scott maneuvered himself and the girl into the backseat of Stiles's jeep.

"What?" Stiles squawked in shock even as he gunned the engine, muttering prayers to God to start the cantankerous vehicle. Visibility had been reduced significantly by the cracks spiderwebbing over the windshield as it was and the pouring rain made sure it was virtually nonexistent. Stiles, however, not one to be outgunned by circumstances, screeched back onto the road and stuck his head out of the window as they roared away.

"Care to explain the unconscious minor Scott?" He yelled over the wind whistling through the window as he squinted into the wind.

"Later! I promise!" Scott yelled, slamming the door shut before they'd even screeched to a halt outside the animal clinic and dashing inside.

"She's a werewolf. Guy ripped her throat out but it healed." Scott babbled, setting her down on the table.

"It gets more interesting by the day." Deaton clicked on the lights and peered at her neck, wiping the blood away with an alcohol-soaked wad of gauze. A huge, darkening bruise bloomed over her tanned skin, but the skin was unbroken. He pressed a stethoscope to her chest. The splintered bone of her right arm jutted out through a sizeable hole in her skin and shirt and he pressed at the edges of the wound gently.

"I would guess that her throat's not completely healed just yet but she seems to be doing fine for now...I just have to deal with the arm." He said, looking down at her with an expression of disbelief on his face.

"Scott, where did you find her?" Stiles asked, cautiously, stepping forward to conduct his own examination of her. He winced, turning several shades paler when he noticed the blood-caked wound on her upper-right arm.

"She hit the windshield of your jeep while we were driving and I followed her. This guy seemed to be chasing her and when he caught up with her they were in front of the Nemeton. He tore out her throat and I thought she was going to die, to be honest. There was blood everywhere. But then it just-it healed."

Deaton took hold of her arm, on either side of the break and pressed downwards suddenly, the shattered bone crunching back together with an ear-grating grinding noise.

The girl shot up, screaming, her eyes shining a fierce yellow.