fade ➹ (Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter 32

I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF. Only Melanie and her plot lines.

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"Yeah, I said we can't find him." Stiles huffed into the device lying in his palm, the two of us endlessly pacing about the hospital.

Stiles and I were currently scurrying about the emergency room. In search of Derek's uncle. But, we hadn't found a thing, not even a single nurse. Which was a pretty immense issue, due to the endless cycle of people getting injured in the town of Beacon Hills.

Derek audibly sighed through the phone, "Look, ask for Jennifer, she's been looking after my uncle."

I pursed my lips, my eyes scanning the area thoroughly. Still no sign of Derek's uncle's nurse. Or specifically anyone for that matter. Therefor, there was no one to ask. This whole situation was just way too confusing if you were to ask me.

"Let's check in his room." I advised, jabbing a finger towards the partially ajar door, in which supposedly belonged to Derek's uncle.

Stiles and I gave one another a suspicious glance, but eventually shrugged off the fact that the door was open a bit. For it could mean someone remotely helpful was in there. As well as someone evil, but I'm shooting for helpful.

We had eventually made our way into the room, in which was completely empty. No trace of anyone nor anything. Not helping our situation whatsoever.

"Yeah well she's not here either." Stiles groaned, the two of us making our way back into the hallway.

You could practically hear Derek's breath hitch all the way from the vacant parking lot. Meaning that there was definitely an issue.

"Stiles, Melanie, get out of there! He's the alpha, get out!"

Stiles slowly lowered his charcoal phone, the both of us exchanging an extremely terrified glance. Hastily turning swiftly on our heels, getting prepared to gun it down the long hallway and through the two double doors. But, we were suddenly interrupted by who I presume was Peter, or Derek's Uncle, standing in the doorway.

He was attired in a black leather jacket and wore a scowl on his disturbingly scorched face. He looked more horrifying than Derek, and that my friends is saying a lot.

"You must be Stiles and Melanie." The evil man smirked, raising a curious eye brow. Stiles gripped tightly onto my hand, turning us around, in hopes of bolting in the opposite direction.

But, we were yet again interrupted by a red headed female, dressed in a white nurses outfit.

"What are you doing here?" Her taunting voice lingered throughout the hospital, "Visiting hours are over."

They were the ones who sent that text through Mrs. McCalls computer.

"You. . .and him. . .you're the one who. . .Oh my God–." Murmured Stiles, stuttering with practically every word.

"How are you still alive?" I squinted my eyes, taking a few timid steps backwards. For I would rather be closer to the creepy nurse than an oversized, half–burnt, werewolf.