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Scott feels his chest getting heavy, his skin is too tight, and his head is pounding. Something is wrong . Scott recognizes this feeling, it's been happening more and more frequently to the point where Scott can recognize the symptoms. It's like a panic attack, he's drowning, and his eyes glow red as he tries to claw himself to the surface. The only problem? He's not underwater.
No, instead he sitting on his bike that he had to pull off to the side of the road near the preserve because if he continued to attempt to drive he's sure to crash.
He feels the sting of his claws pressing into his palms, the poke of fangs at his gums, and the stiffness of his face shifting to that of a monster. In as fast of a pace as he's willing to go when he's losing control like this, he hastily jumps from his bike and throws the helmet into the ditch before running into the woods. He runs, continues running, then runs even further. Anything to keep him moving, keep him far enough away that no one has to get hurt.
He's somewhere near the middle of nowhere when he finally falls to his knees, his claws digging into the dirt below him and crumbling it through his fingers. He tries to take deep breaths, somehow ground himself, but his mind continues to get more and more red. He can see the trees and the vast forest ahead of him, can smell the various creatures that have crossed paths where he stands. There's a faint sound of someone approaching, but by the time Scott is prepared to attack his mind makes the connection to the sound and smell that's getting steadily closer. Pack .
Derek stops about twenty feet away, watching Scott with a face full of concern. He knows Derek is speaking, but he can't hear. He sees his lips moving, his hands gesturing as he tries to get Scott's attention, but it's like Scott's a passenger in his own mind. He's not controlling his body as it rushes Derek, rolling them on the ground until Scott wrestles him down firmly underneath and roars in his face to force his submission.
Derek stops fighting, just watching with wide eyes as Scott is crouched over him and staring out into the woods like some threat could appear any second. Scott can hear his voice, knows he's trying to speak, but he cuts him off with another growl.
Then there's more footsteps, slower than Derek's were and they come from the opposite direction. He takes a whiff of the air and relaxes as a familiar face creeps out from around a tree. Stiles looks on in shock and Scott can smell the fear that rolls off of him in a thick wave. Why is he scared? Scott's not gonna hurt him. So is Derek, he's pack and Scott wants to protect them.
His mind snaps back like a rubber band, sending him reeling off of Derek with his back pressed tightly against a tree. His breathing is heavy, like he'd been holding it all this time, and he feels his shift slowly receding. Stiles is now standing next to Derek, both watching in concern as Scott sinks down along the tree trunk, his head falling back against the bark as he attempts to calm himself down.
“Oh my God. Scott, are you okay?” Stiles tries to step closer, but is stopped by Derek's hand on his shoulder.
He shakes his head before pulling out his phone. “We need to call Deaton.”
Stiles watches as Scott slowly nods, his breathing going back to normal and sweat making his skin shine.
********
Scott's feeling better by the time he and Stiles get to the clinic. He can see in the way Stiles is tapping his foot and twitching in his seat (more than usual) that he wants to ask. He wants to talk, and yell, and understand what's happening to his best friend.
Derek pulls up behind them in the Camaro and they all shuffle out of the vehicles, Derek staying eerily close to Scott. He notices it right away, and judging by the look Stiles gives them he must see it too. They quickly go inside and meet Deaton who is standing in the exam room with a couple of books and some ingredients in glass jars next to him.
“Scott.” He nods in acknowledgement. “Care to tell me what's going on?”
Scott looks back at Stiles and Derek before looking back to the vet. “I'm, uh, not totally sure to be completely honest.”
“You lost control, Scott.” Derek sighs.
“Dude, why are you standing so close?” Stiles asks, everyone looking to Derek.
He takes a large step back, everyone looking back to Scott. “Has this happened before?” Deaton asks with a quirked brow.
“Actually, yea.” Scott sighs, earning a shocked look from Stiles.
“And why are we just now finding out about this?” Stiles raises his voice, still keeping his distance.
“It hasn't been this bad until now.” Scott responds pointedly before continuing to talk to Deaton. “It started out as just little things, an accidental eye glow, my claws extending, simple stuff. I was able to get it back under control easily enough that I didn't think it was an issue.”
Deaton nods slowly and crosses his arms. “What was different about this time?”
Scott takes a deep breath. “I was on my bike, driving home, when suddenly I couldn't breathe. It was like one of my asthma attacks. I could feel my fangs and claws coming out so I pulled over and ran into the preserve. The last thing I remember is running, then waking up with Derek and Stiles standing over me.” He has a look of guilt in his eyes, the downcast glance and shifting on his feet a big neon sign that he's more afraid of what's happening than he's letting on. “They've gotten more frequent…”
“You remember nothing at all during that time in between?” Derek asks with a frown, though anymore it's such a common sight that it's hard to tell if it's situational or not.
“Just bits and pieces, the sound of footsteps, the smell of pack, the feel of dirt on my hands.” Scott shrugs.
“Scott, have you ever lost control to this degree?” Deaton inquires as he flips through a few pages of his book.
“Not since my first full moon as a beta I don't think.”
“And when was the last time you went out on a full moon?”
Scott gives him a funny look. “You mean like go running out in the preserve or something?” He gets a nod. “Not for a long time I guess. We've been too busy with all of these supernatural threats to really be able to take a full moon just to enjoy it.”
“When you lose control, do you feel anything? Like an overwhelming emotion or something to the degree?” Deaton continues flipping through his book, not watching the tension that overcomes Scott's shoulders as he grips tightly to the edge of the table. It's not until there's a loud crunching of metal that Deaton looks down to see Scott's claws have dug through the table and the edge is crumpled below his fingers.
“Holy shit!” Stiles jumps when he hears the cracking and sees the obviously red eyes.
“Scott?” Derek and Stiles both try to step closer but are stopped by Deaton. “What are you feeling Scott?”
“Anger… I can't… It's all red…” He grips his head tightly, his claws digging into his scalp as he groans in pain and breathes heavily.
“Scott, keep going. What do you feel, what are you thinking?” Deaton pushes, grabbing a bottle off of the table next to him.
“Red… I gotta… I can't stay here…” He's panting like he's just run a marathon, his fangs extended and face shifting. He stops suddenly, a low snarl leaving his lips as he looks up to Deaton who throws the contents of the jar at him.
The barrier settles in a small circle around him, just enough room to take a step or so in each direction. Scott doesn't seem phased though, just staring at Deaton. Stiles chances a step closer and Scott turns to him.
“Deaton, look at his eyes. They're more red than normal, like they're brighter.” Stiles says before the panic fully sets in. “Oh my God, what does that mean? Why is he losing control like this? The full moon isn't for another week, and we haven't fought any durachs or druids or anything that could have cursed him.”
“Stiles.” Derek cuts him off from the other side of the circle. “Deaton, do you have any idea what's going on?”
“I think so.” He picks up his book and starts flipping through pages again, ignoring the way Scott is standing in the circle watching them.
He's circling the mystical cage like an animal, like the predators at the circus. They want out, they want to attack. But he just watches, eyes shifting between each person in the room like he's trying to decide.
His eyes fall on Derek, a growl leaving his lips that makes his eyes flash again. He takes a step closer, Scott slowly stepping closer as well.
“Derek!” Deaton calls, pulling his attention away from Scott. “He's using his status as your Alpha to control you.”
“I don't think he wants to hurt us.” Stiles watches from the other side as he starts circling again with a disappointed grumble. “It's Scott, he wouldn't hurt us.” He amends, looking over the way Scott paces the circle again.
“That isn't Scott.” Deaton mumbles as he finally finds the page he wanted. “That's his wolf.”
“His wolf? You mean Scott is nowhere in there right now?” Stiles panics slightly.
“Scott is in there, but he's been pushed back. What you are looking at is Scott's wolf in its most pure form.” Deaton sighs, the wolf watching him with a tight glare for a moment.
“Why is this happening?” Derek asks with a familiar broody look on his face.
“This is very rare, but it can happen. It's typically when the wolf is upset or angry to the point they think their human counterpart is not capable to handle the issue. Scott said he felt anger.”
“So Scott's wolf is so pissed it literally pushed Scott out of the way? So what do we do? Let it deal with whatever it's pissed about so we can get Scott back?” Stiles suggests sarcastically.
“We need to get Scott and his wolf to communicate. I know a way, but Scott has to return to normal first.” Deaton starts setting things on his table and digging through cabinets. “How did you get him to calm down last time?”
“He was roaring at Derek, then I showed up? Really I don't think we did it, I think it was Scott.” Stiles groans, Derek nodding in agreement.
“Perhaps it was you. All we can do is try.” Deaton suggests as he watches the boy carefully.
Stiles takes a careful step towards the barrier, Scott watching him with caution in his eyes. “Scott, buddy. You're starting to scare us.” Stiles puts up his hand and waits for Scott to lift his. Their palms touch and Stiles takes a deep breath and steps closer, his body just outside of the barrier with only his hand within Scott's reach. “Come on buddy, we can help but you gotta give us Scott back.”
Those words seem to anger him, because he slips his fingers through Stiles’ and digs his claws into the back of his hand with a snarl. Stiles tries to pull back, but Scott is too strong and pulls him into the circle before Derek or Deaton can grab him. He grips his neck, not tightly enough to choke but enough to keep him from leaving. Stiles tries to push on his chest, to pull away, but Scott has a hand in his hair to crane his neck back and is sniffing a bit too close for comfort.
His mouth opens, and the hot breath against his skin sends a new wave of panic through Stiles. He's gonna bite him. Then Deaton calls out to him and tosses a syringe that Stiles somehow catches. Stiles doesn't care at this point what's in it, as long as it gets Scott to stop.
He plunges the needle into his neck and Scott instantly back tracks, scrambling away from Stiles to the other side of the circle. His breathing is frantic as he pulls it out, Stiles quickly leaving the barrier and Deaton wrapping his hand.
“Did he bite you?” Deaton questions as they all watch Scott panicking like a rabid animal in a cage, scratching and growling at the barrier.
“No! What did you give him?” Stiles watches in horror as his friend starts to slow down.
“A sedative. He's trying to fight it but it should knock him out shortly.” And just like he said, Scott crumbled to the ground, his features returning to normal.
Deaton quickly kicks open the barrier and has Derek help get him onto the now bent table. Once he gets him on top he starts mixing things in a bowl. “So, we got him back to normal, what's next?”
“We need to get him into a meditative state.” He answers quickly and continues adding things.
“An ice bath.” Derek nods and leaves to grab the trough.
“What are you making?” Stiles asks as he looks over his shoulder before glancing at Scott's unconscious body on the table.
“The few other times I've done this, I've found there's a very good chance that when they come out of the state, they don't remember what exactly happened. Usually it's just whatever important piece of information their wolf wanted them to have. This will make his body have a better connection to his mind.” He answers and starts heating water.
“Magic tea?” Stiles scoffs, earning a glare.
“Whatever conversation he has inside his head will be said aloud. We can hear the conversation and help him understand what is going on.” Deaton says in that slightly annoyed tone he uses quite frequently with Stiles.
Stiles is quiet, watching Scott for a moment. “If I'm already considered pack, why did Scott try to bite me?” His voice sounds hurt, which is exactly how he feels.
“Scott the human may recognize you as pack, but his wolf may not.” Deaton says sadly.
Stiles feels his heart sink in his chest as he watches his best friend twitch in his sleep.
********
Scott wakes with a jolt, sitting upright with wide eyes and heavy breaths. Stiles and Derek instantly stand, Stiles knocking over the chair he was sitting in and Derek stepping away from the wall he was leaning against.
Scott takes a second before locking eyes with Stiles whose fear is still pungent in his nose. “Oh my God, Stiles.” He tries to swivel off of the table but finds he can't. When he looks down he sees a mountain ash barrier laid tightly against the shape of the table so that Scott can't get off of it.
“Good, you're awake.” Deaton gives him a small smile and breaks the barrier.
Scott stays on the table though, watching the changing expressions on their faces. Stiles shifts from panic to relief, Derek from passive to concern, Deaton from glad to determination.
“Stiles… I remember…” His voice is so sad as he looks away with guilt heavy in his chest. “I'm so sorry.”
Stiles walks over and pulls him into a tight hug. “It's okay man. It wasn't you.”
There's solace in the tightness if his grip on Scott's shoulders. It's Stiles’ human version of taking Scott's pain, and it's crazy how well it works every time.
Scott nods and they pull away to see Deaton and Derek waiting patiently. “Are you ready Scott?”
He hops down from the table and gives Deaton a strange look. “Ready for what?”
He leads them to the other room where a trough full of water is sitting. Derek starts dumping in ice and Scott feels chills run up his spine. “I think I may have a solution.”
“You remember when we had to find the nemeton and we had to search our minds or whatever to find it?” Stiles asks with a gentle hand on his shoulder. It's reassuring.
“You mean when we opened our minds to a supernatural tree and almost went insane?” Scott deadpans with a frown.
“This is similar, but not quite the same.” Deaton explains as he hands Scott a murky looking tea and motions for him to drink. He takes a sip and makes a funny face before chugging the rest down and handing it back. “Instead of connecting to the tree, you will be connecting to an inner part of yourself, your wolf.”
Scott nods, watching skeptically as Deaton tosses Stiles a set of ropes. “These are to keep you from clawing us to ribbons should you wolf out again.” Stiles jokes and ties Scott's hands back tightly. Scott can tell by the burn that the ropes are made of wolfsbane.
Derek, Deaton, and Stiles help lower him into the water. “Ready?” Derek asks and Scott nods before he is pushed under the water.
He can feel the three sets of hands on his shoulders and chest, holding him under. The pressure is both comforting and frightening, that these people are keeping him under the water until he either falls unconscious or drowns. He feels the familiar tightness in his chest but he knows he needs to fight the urge to breathe in, so he struggles. He thrashers and fights, but he can only do so much with his hands tied behind his back.
Then it goes black.
Outside his body the three are still struggling to hold him down, Deaton and Stiles offering little help with their human strength as Derek has almost his entire weight pressed into Scott's shoulders. Then he stops and they let him float to the surface. He is still, but his breathing is steady and Stiles can see the flicker of his eyes behind his eyelids before they open slowly.
“Scott?” Deaton asks quietly, not getting a response. He checks his pulse and nods to Derek and Stiles who relax.
“Now we wait?” Derek asks as he dries off his arms.
“Not quite.” Stiles answers and pulls over his chair to sit next to the tub.
Inside Scott's head he's standing in darkness, his body dry and breathing normal. All he sees is black other than himself. Looking around does nothing, so he starts walking. Soon something comes into view so he starts going faster to see a mid afternoon forest around him. When he looks back there's no darkness, just more trees with an amber light poking through the leaves. It's mid autumn, leaves crunching under his feet and occasionally falling around him as he continues walking.
There's a sound of light crunching behind him, but it's soft enough Scott almost mistakes it for a deer. What he doesn't mistake is the flash of red eyes that blurs between trees. He feels the blood freeze in his veins as he hears the telltale howl of an Alpha that sounds far too close for comfort.
He feels his body run cold as he sees none other than himself walking out from between the trees. It's not exactly him though, but a version that's far more sharp and dangerous.
It growls low in its throat as it approaches, stopping a few feet back and looking him over. “Well this is unexpected.” It comments with a twisted grin that bares far too many sharp teeth. Scott's not even sure where all of the extra fangs came from, because he doesn't remember having that many.
“You're my wolf?” Scott swallows the lump of fear in his throat.
“You sound unsure. Who else would be lurking in your mind?” It snarls.
“What's going on? You keep forcing your way out, why?” Scott asks calmly, watching the way his copy slowly circles him like predator to prey.
“What's my problem? You're my problem, Scott.” He growls from behind the boy before circling back around. “It may have been your merciful personality that got you chosen, but remember that I'm the source of that power. True Alpha.” It speaks well, not lisping around the fangs like Scott is prone to. “If not for me, you would be dead multiple times over.”
Scott watches in shock at the way his wolf is speaking, not expecting the pure anger in its tone. “You should listen to me more often Scott, I know you can feel me. That pull in your gut when you walk into a dark building, the rush in your veins when you feel the splatter of blood on your hands. I'm there trying to tell you what you already know, but you ignore me.”
Stiles almost jumped from his seat when Scott started talking. His body and face are still, the only movement is the rising of his chest and the flickering of his open brown eyes. They don't see anything though, they're blank like he's staring off into the distance. His voice seems to change as he jumps from person to person, his wolf voiced in a low growl.
“You are naive and weak. We might share this body, but we both know whatever spine you have is because of me.” Scott growls.
“Scott's wolf is an asshole.” Stiles quips, quickly getting shushed by the others.
He sees the concern buried deep in Derek's brow and sees it matched by Deaton. There's something about what he's saying that their not telling, but he's sure if he was a werewolf he would smell fear.
In the forest, Scott listens carefully to his wolf, waiting to speak. “I know all of that anger you keep bottled up. You can't hide anything from me Scott, we're the same person. We both know that I'm just a manifestation of what you're too scared to admit. When you were bitten, it was your chance, every full moon since you've had an opportunity to let out that anger and be who you are. You've never embraced what you are, only pushed me away and used me when you needed to. You're too scared of yourself, of me .”
Scott breathes out slowly. “You're right. I never have accepted you, but you've yet to give me a reason to. That pull in my gut? That scares me because it's usually telling me that someone is about to get seriously hurt. That rush I feel when I claw into someone makes me feel physically nauseated! I never asked to be the True Alpha! I never wanted to be a werewolf in the first place! I'm not scared of you, I'm scared of what you're capable of!” Scott yells, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.
“You can cry and fight all you want,” It seems amused as it creeps closer. “But being upset about the past won't make it go away. You need to move on Scott, quit trying to deny what you are.” He presses closer, Scott backing himself into a tree.
“Just because I'm a predator, doesn't mean I'm a monster.” Scott huffs with defiance at the wolf baring its fangs.
“Just because you play human, doesn't mean you are one.” It retorts with a grin as it steps back. “It's all up to you Scott, I'm trying to help you here, but if you want to ignore me that's fine. Just know that I'm not speaking for my own benefit, I'm speaking for yours. If you don't learn to accept what you are soon, it will just get worse for you.”
Suddenly the wolf is running, Scott watches it disappear in the distance, weaving through the trees. The next thing he knows he's sitting up panting in a bucket of water, his hands tight behind his back and a small amount of water in his throat.
The guys quickly pull him from the tub and untie him, Scott coughing up water before taking a deep breath and sitting on the side. “Scott! Are you okay?” Stiles asks right away as Scott catches his breath.
“I'm fine.” He nods and stands with Derek's help.
“What do you remember?” Deaton asks as he lays a towel around Scott's shoulders.
“I was walking through the preserve, there was this wolf, it's eyes glowing red.” He pauses as he shivers slightly. “I just remember hearing someone telling me that I need to accept my wolf. It sounded like me, but not.” He feels so confused as he rubs at his aching head and pulls the blanket closer.
Deaton gives Stiles an ‘I told you so’ look before giving Scott a serious sigh. “I knew something like this would happen so I planned ahead. That tea I gave you earlier let us hear what happened in your state.”
Scott looks thoroughly confused as he looks at Deaton. “What do you mean you knew this would happen? What happened?”
“Your wolf decided you didn't need to remember the entire conversation and made you forget all except for what he deems important.” Stiles answers. “By the way, your wolf is a douche.”
Scott nods slowly. “But you guys heard everything?” They all hum in affirmation. “So what did I miss?”
They all settle back in the exam room, Scott no longer quivering as he stands between Stiles and Deaton. “The conversation wasn't long, but it kept emphasizing its importance in your life and that you need to accept it.”
“It was also an asshole and kept pointing out how you would probably be dead without it. He also liked pointing out your fears.” Stiles adds.
Scott gives Stiles a disbelieving glare. “You really don't like it do you?”
“No, I really don't. For something that's supposed to be a part of you, he's got some major issues.” Stiles frowns.
Scott huffs out a laugh. “Like I don't have issues.”
Stiles rolls his eyes as Derek continues. “Scott, to me it sounded like you have some major resentment for being a werewolf that it is not happy about.”
Scott hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Having the increased senses and abilities has been great, but the insistent feeling that I have… It's like there's something wrong with me. The instincts that I have to constantly fight off…”
“Why do you fight them?” Derek asks carefully.
“Because he doesn't want to hurt anyone.” Stiles quietly replies, earning a nod from Scott who raises his head sadly to lock eyes with Derek.
“It's like someone is yelling in my ears to do something I know isn't right. Like a devil on my shoulder or whatever. If I give in, someone could get seriously hurt. Like Stiles earlier… I can't let anyone get hurt because of me.” He hesitates for a moment before looking at Deaton with determination. “I need to go back in.”
The vet frowns. “It's too dangerous.”
“Not as dangerous as I am. I need to talk to it again.”
********
Scott opens his eyes to a familiar darkness, but he doesn't hang around this time. What comes into focus this time isn't the forest though. Instead he's standing in the high school, lights off and halls empty. He walks through the hall, checking the windows of the classrooms and seeing nothing but emptiness. Then he rounds the corner and sees the wolf standing there, his eyes glowing brightly in the darkness.
“Miss me already?” The voice sets off something in his mind, the memories of the last encounter returning quickly.
“I need to ask you something.” Scott says bluntly, not letting himself get emotional.
“Ask away, you are an open book after all.” The wolf smirks and taps its claws on a nearby locker.
“All of these urges you keep making me feel, the need to hunt and kill. Why?” Scott clenches his fist tightly before letting go.
“Because it's primal, it's the instinct to survive.” He laughs like he just said something amusing. ”Somehow without it you are still alive. Must be the same miracle that made you an Alpha.”
“But I'm feeling these things when I don't need to. I don't need to feel like I need to tear out someone's throat when I'm walking down the street.”
“You don't need to Scott, you want to. There's a big difference. You need to fight when you're under threat, some random person off the street is just a desire you have.”
“But why am I feeling this? I don't understand why.” Scott feels himself getting frustrated and clenches his fists.
The wolf stands in front of him, their eyes locking as he mirrors Scott's stance. “All of your questions would be answered if you just accept it Scott. It could unlock a whole new potential in you.”
“And what happens if I stop fighting it? Someone dies?”
“Accepting it and letting it happen are two separate things. Just because you accept the fact you want to do something doesn't mean you have to do it.”
He glares in confusion. “Isn't that what you're mad about? That I'm not giving in and hurting people?”
The wolf laughs. “I don't care if you get blood under your claws, what I care about is that you stop acting like you're doing something wrong. You are no better than the wolf at the end of red riding hood, parading around as a harmless human only to get chopped down. The day you accept what you are is the day you stop struggling with this part of yourself. But your self-righteousness is keeping you from becoming what you are meant to be. The potential of a True Alpha is wasted on you.“ The last sentence is spoken with a snarl as it pushes Scott back into the wall.
Shock isn't a near expressive enough word to describe how the ones in the clinic feel when Scott's body suddenly thrashes in the water, liquid being splashed everywhere and splattering on the floor.
“You hurt more people by playing this game than you would if you just let go!” Scott growls as his body goes still again, but now his eyes are closed tightly. “Do you know how many people have died because of you? Innocent people who died because you are too focused on fighting yourself?”
Scott tries to fight against his wolf, pushing on him and struggling, his actions being reflected in real life as he undulates in the water. The others don't dare step in, though there's a couple of times when Deaton has to stop Derek.
With all the strength he can muster, Scott lifts his legs and kicks his copy in the gut, pushing him away enough for Scott to ground himself enough to rush the wolf. He presses him to the wall in a similar fashion as they were in earlier, Scott pressing hard against him as he feels his shift come over him. His claws and fangs extend and he roars loudly, the red returning to his eyes.
With a quick strong jerk, Scott breaks the rope binding his arms and sits up, his eyes glowing and a roar leaving his throat. Derek's eyes begin to glow as well, watching as Scott breathes heavily before calming enough to shift back. Stiles and Derek are both by his sides is seconds to help him out of the water.
“Scott, what happened?” Stiles asks as he wraps a blanket around his shoulders.
“I remember… He didn't take away my memories this time.”
“You were thrashing around, were you fighting or something?” Derek asks as he settles against the counter.
“Towards the end, yea. I didn't notice it before, but the entire time I think he was trying to provoke me. He wanted me to fight him.” Scott watches his hand carefully as he extends his claws then pulls them back.
“Do you feel in control?” Deaton asks carefully.
“More so than I have for a while.” Scott responds with a hopeful smile.
He watches the tension leave everyone's shoulders, Stiles patting his back with a small chuckle. “That's good to hear.”
“Just in case, someone should stay with you in case he's not truly as satisfied as we think.” Deaton suggests, Stiles immediately volunteering.
“There will be a lot less questions from Melissa if I'm staying at his house than a broody sour wolf stalking him from the bushes.” Stiles explains, earning a small growl from Derek.
“That's fine. But do make sure to call me should anything happen.”
Scott nods and gets up, handing Deaton the blanket and thanking him before they get in the jeep and leave. Derek helps Deaton dump the water and get cleaned up in silence, waiting almost thirty minutes before finally asking the question burning a hole in his skull.
“Do you really think he's okay?” His voice betrays his relaxed stance, the tone raising in concern.
“I would like to think so. He seemed to carry himself a bit straighter as he left, though that's something we will only know for sure with time.” Deaton has a calming smile on his face as he ushers Derek out, wishing him a good night.
As he locks the door, there's a smile on his face. “Best of luck Scott.” He whispers before leaving.