Buried Deep

Everything had happened so fast that it all blurred together. He almost couldn't register the simplicity of what had truly happened. The only thing that was running through his mind was to get Ella's limp and almost lifeless body to the clinic where the Druid Emissary awaited.

It had taken less than ten minutes to arrive and when he did arrive, he couldn't help but groan at the amount of eyes that stared back at him. Of course the doctor would call the pack, nothing was just for him anymore but nonetheless that was the least of his concern. He quickly and carefully laid her body down in front of the doctor; his eyes showing complete concern.

"Peter, go. I'll handle things from here."

He reluctantly headed out of the room, sitting down on the uncomfortable chairs, his hands folded over his knees, his brain trying to recalculate the events that had just happened. The murmurs and questions being repeated were distracting his thoughts, "Will everyone," he paused, his head lifting and showing those glowing bright blue eyes, "just shut the hell up?!"

"Ouch, Mr. Grumpy woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, will you please just tell us what the hell happened?" Stiles was starting to get impatient, he was normally not one to just sit around and wait for explanations, he more or so liked to coax them out.

Before Peter had the chance to over think the idea of potentially ripping the young boy's throat out, Deaton had walked out from the room, his hands removing latex gloves. Confusion and anger laced over Peter, he had hardly been in the room for a minute. "Well," Deaton sighed as he took a seat at his desk, "she's going to be alright."

"Oh thank Jesus." Peter breathed.

Deaton held up his hands, his lips pressed, "I wouldn't go thanking him just yet." He turned his head towards the door where Ella laid on the other side, "Explain thoroughly what you saw, what happened, and don't leave out a single detail."

Peter nodded, "After her constant arguing of sleeping on the couch instead of switching with me, we went to bed." His eyes scanned the floor as if he was reading, "I only fell asleep for maybe an hour until I heard this noise and smelled something strange and not her, I walked out and I see this-"he lifted his head up, his brows knitted together, "-this creature. It was floating above her, almost like it was cloaked in black fabric and no face. I felt like I could have reached out and it would have disappeared. But, it hovered over her and it's pointy fingers were swirling around her," he paused, his face full of confusion, "and then this white fog lifted from her mouth and," he clenched his jaw, "it was the shape of a wolf. It pranced around the room before it disappeared inside that thing."

"What do you take before bed and where can I get some?" Stiles snorted, clearly not believing a single word he said. For all he knew, Peter probably tried to kill her. But if only Stiles really knew how much Ella actually meant to him, he never would have made those kind of assumptions.

Malia shot him a dirty look, her hand reaching out with lightning speed and smacking him upside the head, "Shut up."

Deaton leaned back in his chair, his mouth hung slightly open as he pondered, "I was afraid that my assumptions would have been true." He took a breath, leaning forward, his hands on his desk, his eyes averted downward, "That creature is an Anima Rapientem, otherwise known as a soul snatcher."

Derek rose an eyebrow, "Wait, are you saying that thing took her ability to shift?"

Scott's brown eyes widened, his mouth dropped, "Is that even possible?"

The doctor nodded, his lips pressed in a frown, "I'm afraid so. Ella is no longer a werewolf as far as I'm concerned."

"Is this permanent or what?" Peter asked, his anger boiling.

"I don't think your understanding the full extent of what I'm saying. That faint glimmer of what you thought was a wolf was indeed her supernatural being. She's mortal. It's literally as if she was never a werewolf at all. Once the soul snatcher takes what he wants, he doesn't give it back without a price. And I'm afraid that price is far to expensive for any of you."

Scott's brows knitted together, "Is she actually okay? I mean did it hurt or anything?"

"Well, when one is torn apart from their supernatural being, it does leave the body weak and fragile. She's resting for now, I was able to keep her vitals normal and safe but when she wakes up? That's when the hard part begins, sadly."

"Couldn't someone bite her again?" Kira asked, completely confused that something out there could rip away someone's being.

Deaton shrugged, "Someone could, but I'd advise against it," his eyes flickered towards Peter. "just because she was bit and it took the first time does not guarantee that it will work again. It will take months before her body will come close to accepting the bite but even then I wouldn't risk it."

Peter leaned back, his hands scrubbing over his face, "Does she know?"

The doctor shrugged again, genuinely concerned about the young woman, he had heard rumors of the Hale turning the one he loved a while back, but he had never truly believed it. Not after the horrors Beacon Hills faced when he went on a murderous rampage, "I'm not quite sure." He lifted out of his chair, scanning the tired faces of each and every one of them, "You should all go home and get some rest. Most of you have school in less than four hours, I'll stay here for the rest of the night," he looked around at his scattered papers, "might as well organize and get some paperwork done."

Everyone exchanged glances, nodding off in agreement, except one. Peter shook his head, his hands folded and resting underneath his chin, his eyes dead cold, "I'll stay too."

Scott stood up slowly, his eyes looking towards Peter and then back at Deaton, "You sure that's a good idea?"

Deaton shook his head, motioning for them to continue on home, "It'll be fine, Scott. I doubt I'm anywhere on his list of concerns."

"Alright, well..." Scott trailed off, his eyebrows raising at the expression Peter wore. It was obvious he was angry but mixed in that was a little mixture of fear and sorrow. "She'll be fine, Peter." And with that the rest of his pack and himself exited the doorway with Derek following closely behind.

Peter stood up, ignoring the look the vet gave him, he entered past the double doors, walking up to the body that lay motionless on the operating table, his eyes scanned over her body, nothing had really appeared to be different other than her pale pigment.

"Was she your-lack of a better word-mate?" Deaton asked, his eyes squinting, curious to know more about the relationship the man held with the woman lying on his table.

Peter scoffed, "For someone who should know a lot about our history," he turned, his eyes darkening, "you really don't, do you?"

"Oh no, I do. But that doesn't mean a werewolf doesn't pick up the true natures of an actual wolf." He walked over towards Ella, his hand picking up her wrist, checking her pulse, "I don't know you very much, Peter Hale, but what I do know, is that you're not exactly the most loving and kind man on the planet. And I'm actually curious to know why you show so much concern for her."

Peter looked over her resting face once more before he spoke, "There was a time where she tamed my true intentions." He gritted his teeth and took in a deep breath, "I turned her out of selfishness, I took away her true potential because I couldn't risk losing her but in the end I had lost her anywhere."

Deaton nodded, "No one would blame you for that, turning her that is. Love can make people do a lot of selfish things."

"It wasn't just that." He started, his eyes glowing blue as he stared intensely at her, "I changed in front of her, I know she was scared, hell she could have gone into cardiac arrest. But, she didn't leave. She sat there and took me in, it only took minutes before she actually touched me. She stayed when I got angry to the point where I broke things and-and just completely destroyed everything, she didn't leave. But when I-when I-" he closed his eyes, "when I killed her family....she ran." He opened them, his hand running over his face, "I took everything from her, her life, her family...and now the fact that she's not a werewolf anymore? Who's to say that I didn't take that too."

"It's not your fault, Peter. Soul snatchers rise from nowhere every once and a while to feed." Deaton used his hands to lean on the table, "You changed her through love not for a pack or any reason beyond that. Love is a powerful thing, whether or not she claims to hate you for the wrong you've inflicted to her.. It's much more than a simple bond, Peter. Emotions were running deep within your veins, your body, your teeth." He gave a small sigh, glancing over the blonde, "This is a chance to start over, all that hatred and hurt that once ran thickly through her body is gone now. Whether or not she had a vendetta, it's gone. Her brain will vaguely remember the night she had forced herself to remember, she'll know it was you but she won't remember how much it hurt. Soul snatchers don't only take the ability to shift but they also take the emotions locked within."

Deaton continued, "I lied earlier about her possibly knowing or not, she won't remember. She will eventually if you give her enough time for herself to think. It's going to be a hard process of her adapting to who she once was so many years ago."

"Maybe it's best that I keep my distance this time." He stated, his blue eyes closing slowly, "If she's forgotten the pain and wrong I've done to her, it's good."

"But, she'll eventually remember. It's like amnesia, Peter. It's better to mend the broken before it gets there." His eyes were laced with confusion, "If you love her so much why are you willing to walk away?"

Peter gritted his teeth, "It's because I love her that I am walking away."