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( XI. EMOTIONAL TETHER )
"DEREK!" Amelie yelled at the unconscious Alpha lying on the elevator floor, with Stiles repeatedly slapping him in the face. "Derek, come on!"
Before Stiles could land another punch, Derek awoke with a loud gasp, eyes wide with shock as he looked around him. "Where is she?" He asked through ragged breaths.
"Jennifer? Gone... with Scott's mom," Stiles panted, and Amelie looked at both of them with parted lips. She released her hold on Derek's shirt and rose from her knees, dusting off her leggings.
"She took her?"
"Yeah, and if that's not enough to knock your socks off, Scott left with Deucalion, okay?" Amelie replied. "So, we gotta get you out of here. The police are coming right now, and we gotta get you the hell out of here—"
"What about Cora?" Derek ignored the very very important information.
"She's with Isaac," Amelie sighed defeatedly. She remembered the way she left him to go after Stiles and couldn't help the sense of guilt flowing through her.
Within a few moments, Derek managed to get up and ultimately leave the hospital. "Can we go now?" Amelie asked Stiles, no longer did she want to stay here, a seeping fear that Matthew would appear again, but something told her he wouldn't, not now at least,
"We have to stall for the cops, you can go if you want," Stiles sighed, taking a seat in the reception. Against her will, Amelie did so too, she wouldn't leave him here alone. "It's okay," She smiled softly, "I'll stay." She leaned her head on her hand, closing her eyes. Maybe she would get some much needed sleep while they waited.
Soon, the sun started to rise shining it's light through the window of the hospital. Amelia opened her eyes slowly, her eyes heavy with tiredness. People were starting to bustle through the hospital now. Nurses, doctors, all except Melissa McCall.
A figure emerged through the crowd. Tall with dark hair, he scanned through the room looking for someone, until his eyes landed on Stiles and Amelie.
"Oh, just perfect," Stiles groaned from next to her. The man approached them, a snarky smirk on his tall face. "A Stilinski at the center of this whole mess. What a shocker," He mused, receiving a condescending look from Stiles. "Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?"
"If you ask the questions without the usual level of stupid," Stiles retorted. The man shifted his attention to Amelie, furrowing his brows. "Who are you?"
"Amelie," She replied shortly. He hummed in response, looking back to Stiles, "Where is your dad, and why's no one been able to contact him?"
