Golden Dandelions|Teen Wolf

39|witch

"NOW, REBECCA, TELL me what happened when Gerard grabbed you," Deaton instructed as he mixed some herbs into a jar.

Beck hummed, shifting on the examination table as she watched Deaton mix the herbs. The smell of the herbs was nice, calming as it tugged at old memories. Stiles watched hypnotized in his seat as Scott leaned on the counter next to him. Behind Beck, Derek stood protectively as Uncle Peter lurked in the corner and Isaac stood leaning against the doorframe.

"Well..." Beck muttered, remembering the pain erupting down her arm once Gerard touched her. "It burned." Deaton glanced up, nodding his head in encouragement. "It felt like my arm was on fire, but only where his hand was. My head... it started hurting. And..."

"Go on," Deaton smiled as he began grinding some leaves with a mortar and pestle.

"I saw things, visions," Beck muttered as Deaton added the grounded leaves to the contents in the jar. "Things that were going to happen."

"Like your dreams?" Scott asked, grabbing Deaton's attention.

"Dreams?"

"Well, yes and no," Beck muttered, remembering the different visions she saw when Gerard grabbed her. "They were more like options that Gerard had for that moment. If he had done this, then this would happen instead of something else. And every single one eventually ended in Gerard's death. Except..."

"Scott's plan," Isaac finished with a hum. "That's what you meant when you told him to go and that it worked, you saw what would happen."

Beck nodded her head. "I also saw Allison shooting him in the head when he touched my arm and Isaac getting stabbed to death when he brushed his hand against mine." Isaac paled at that, standing up straight before taking a step in. "That's why I pushed Allison. If she had continued, she would have killed Isaac."

"Okay, is it just me, or is this getting freaky," Stiles muttered as he raised his hands.

Deaton hummed before turning back to Beck. "Scott mentioned dreams, could you tell me about them?"

Beck shrugged, glancing down to the jar as Deaton stirred its contents. It was turning into a pale green paste. "Every once in a while, I get these dreams. They're like visions of stuff that happen later on."

"How long has this been happening?"

Beck glanced back to Derek as he crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging. "We don't know exactly," Derek answered.

"Wait, are you talking about those nightmares she used to get?" Uncle Peter asked from his corner. "She still gets them?"

Derek nodded his head as everyone turned to Uncle Peter. "You remember them?"

"How could I forget?" Uncle Peter scuffed. "Being woken at one in the morning by a six-year-old screaming at the top of her lungs, thrashing on the floor like she was having a seizure would leave an impression."

Scott and Stiles shared a look at this.

"What?" Isaac asked them, noticing their shared look.

They both looked up, finding everyone watching them. Stiles shifted awkwardly as Scott took a breath.

"It's just that," Scott said, scratching the back of his head. "At Lydia's party, we found Beck having what looked like a seizure. We didn't know what to do so we splashed her with some water, and she came out of it."

"It's a side effect from the dreams," Derek explained, glancing over at his sister. "We didn't know why but after every one of her dreams Beck would start thrashing and screaming. One night I found that if we calmed her down and she drew them out, she wouldn't get it. She's been drawing her dreams out ever since."