This chapter contains mild profanity.

Chapter Twelve

"Run Boy Run"

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Scott leaned against the metal examination table with his back to the door. He was curled forward, and his hands gripped the sides of his head as he bent over almost double. His eyes were shut tight and distress contorted his features.

"What happened?"... Stiles had no idea. And if Scott could help it, he probably never would.

Peter's face loomed closer in Scott's mind's eye... red eyes flashed.

"You're mine..."

Scott's breath caught in his throat and his heart sped up in his chest. Breathing faster, he gave his head a shake, his hands flattening over his ears.

He kept seeing the alpha's red eyes gleaming as he pinned Scott down. He couldn't stop reliving the moment when he realized that Peter wanted him in a different way. The sensation of the older man's cold hands between his legs, stroking him... The helplessness that filled him, the blind desperation to get away...

Nausea pushed up from his stomach. The memories swirled in Scott's mind, thoughts with jagged edges, making his heart hammer painfully against his ribcage.

He looked down at his lower torso and ran his hands over the healing scars of Peter's attack. His nails scraped across his skin as the alpha swam in his vision once more. With an angry snarl, he clenched his fist and slammed it down on the table with a resounding thud.

Someone tried to open the door behind him.

"It's locked," came Stiles' voice. "Scott, what's up?"

Scott didn't move yet, and his eyes didn't open. There was a deep, dark, unstoppable sensation rising through his body. It heated his nerves and strengthened his muscles, spreading through him like fire, banishing his weakness. He slowly raised his head and opened his eyes. They glowed yellow under his heavily furrowed brows.

"Scott," said Stiles, pounding on the door a few times. "It's locked. What are you -?"

"Open it," interrupted Derek's low voice.

Scott heard the jingle of a keyring on the other side of the door. His narrowed yellow eyes flickered to the storage room door on the opposite wall. It stood ajar, and through it, he could see bright moonlight filtering through a high window...

Deaton approached the locked door. "I have the key, Scott. Can I come in?"

There was no answer out of the back room. Deaton looked unsure.

Derek stepped forward. "I don't think he should be left alone," he told them briskly.

Deaton turned his somber eyes on Derek. "It's possible he just needs a little time. He's been through a lot today."

"He's been through more than you... know..." Derek trailed off before saying anything further. Scott would probably see it as a betrayal if he ever spoke to anyone about what happened. But another perspective was gaining ground, and Derek couldn't ignore it. He might eventually have to tell someone else, if Scott won't let him in... "Just," Derek spluttered, shaking his head to Deaton, "Time alone isn't what he needs right now. He might want it, but just... trust me. Open the door."

Deaton hesitated for a long moment, watching Derek's expression. With the key in his hand, he looked toward Stiles almost questioningly, but Stiles was staring openly at Derek, the picture of cluelessness. Finally Deaton looked back at Derek and gave him a short nod. "Alright. I believe you."

"How much more than we know?" Blurted Stiles loudly.

"Scott, I'm coming in," said Deaton, inserting the key as Derek gave Stiles a cold shoulder. The lock clicked and he turned the door handle, swinging open the door.

Deaton gazed around the back room while Stiles pushed in behind him, and Derek leaned to see around the other two.

But Scott wasn't there anywhere in sight.

"Where is he?" Said Stiles in confusion.

With a low, rumbling growl, Derek shoved past Stiles and Deaton. He walked abruptly to the storage room and knocked the door wide open, then stopped on the threshold. He stared up at the high window. It was propped open with a metal tray, and Scott's scent trailed straight through it.

There was a moment of tense silence as Derek stared up at the window. Then he inhaled slowly, deliberately, and turned around to face Deaton and Stiles.

"Is he gone?" Asked Stiles incredulously.

Derek's eyes gleamed. "Yes. He's gone after my uncle."

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End

Please enjoy the sequel, 'Bane of an Alpha.' It can be found on my page under my stories :) Thank you all for your support!