There are no small roles, only...
September 1, 2015
It felt like it happened in a flash. Being tracked like prey by something that she could see, and knew wasn't one of Scott's pack. Driving her car was a bad idea, especially in the middle of the night, when it definitely wasn't going to let her run off. Whatever it was here for, it was going to attack her, and just her. But when Ainsley was sent off-road by it darting out in front of her car, quick thinking kept her cool head, and she managed to get out her firearm. The next few minutes were a blurr, where she was ripped out of her vehicle and fought with the creature's grasp every second of the way. Shooting pain gave way to a desperate need to survive, and she fired several shots into the area around its shoulders and head as it took her rapidly into the wilds. It was too far out for anyone to hear it...
She hit her head.
When she woke up, it was early evening again. She was in pain and her clothing was torn up. It wasn't like in movies, the struggle got her covered in shallow claw marks, along with a nasty bite on her leg. By the time she got to her car, she was shaking, covered in leaves and not quite able to make it to the driver's side door. She instead collapsed against the side of the vehicle and stared blearily out into the woods. The smell of fresh blood would be hard to miss, for certain wolves coming through the area at the time.
Where was Scott coming from? Who knows. He's the True Alpha of Beacon Hills and thus has been trying to take care of all manners of various types of business in regards to the whole supernatural element within the city limits. Not to mention he's still trying to catch up in school. There's a lot that he has on his plate. Hell, maybe he was even out riding his dirt bike through the woods just for some head clearing purposes.
He skids his bike to a stop, though, when his nose catches wind of something that probably shouldn't be a scent right now. Not only does he smell blood but he also smells someone that he has most recently met.
His bike revs up again and he's speeding off towards the car's location. He's off the bike and his helmet is off faster than he even looks like he's arrived. "Ainsley?" The scent is very strong here and when he turns to see the collapsed body next the car? He takes off in a run. "Ainsley!"
The sound of Scott's voice is what snaps Ainsley out of her stupor. Her blood loss isn't that bad, and considering what she went through, the fact that she carefully climbs up to her feet at all is a miracle. She is grimacing in Scott's direction when she spots him running toward her, but she can't croak out a response, her dry throat and agonizing pain making it impossible to focus on even thinking anything coherent. She doesn't make a lot of noise for someone obviously in a lot of pain, clearly it's just her nature to be quiet even when she doesn't have to be.
"What the hell..." she rasps out, trying to focus her mind on something, anything.
When he gets closer, the aroma's details get easier to pick out. There was another wolf here, but it's long gone. There's a mild gunpowder smell, and judging by the firearm she noisily sets down against the hood of her car, the smell is coming from the nine millimeter right there.
She's not actively bleeding anywhere, but she looks awful, dirty, mucky and frazzled. Her hair is a wild mess, her glasses are gone, her face is smeared with blood, she's got bits of plant matter and other indications of her getting dragged through the dirt.
"Don't move. Don't try to move. I think my Mom's at the hospital. Let me check." Scott is moving to reach for his phone so that he can get some texting going on when his nose starts to pick up on a couple of other things right now. Things that he probably shouldn't be able to pick up on right now. But he does.
His attention is immediately back on Ainsley. "What happened? Are you hurt?" His questions are designed to lead his brain in a certain direction because he's not sure if he should even take her to the hospital now. This could be going a completely different direction -- depending on what she says.
'Are you hurt?'
Ainsley stares right through Scott. She sure LOOKS hurt. She's not putting any weight on her bitten leg. It's like an animal attack, but she seems to be in control of herself, and the bleeding has stopped and she's conscious.
"Yes. Yes, I'm hurt." Her voice begins to raise, and from the strangled croak that her voice sounds like, passing out in the woods isn't good for the voice, "I just woke up in a pile of dead leaves covered in my own blood because some damn monster dragged me out of my car and OUT INTO THE WOODS!!" She wildly waves her hands out in the vague direction that she hobbled from. It's more than anger. Her stress is going off like an overworked rubber band. "USE YOUR DAMN EYES!!" She leaves the firearm on the hood of her car, and slaps her hand down against the car once, twice...
And she lets out an awful scream to release the anger just into the air, having stepped on the wrong leg on accident, and then a sob, and then rests her forehead against her car's hood.
"I'm sorry," she croaks out.
"Okay. Okay." Scott doesn't really know what to do. "Let's get you to the hospital. I can come back for my bike. Does... does your car still work?" Scott isn't even sure how this is even going to work. He's usually not the one that finds the bodies. Where the hell is Stiles?! This is his department!
Scott pauses just long enough to commit a certain different wolf scent to his memory and then he's moving to see if he can't help Ainsley in a way that she may not actually be ready for. "Give me your hand." It's said with more confidence than his earlier questions. He clearly knows what he's doing for this part.
Ainsley straightens, grimacing at the soreness all over her body. She touches at the claw marks, and notes how it doesn't seem to be seeping. She is distracted by that while she's given questions about her. Since she doesn't know, she only shakes her head slowly, not quite comprehending the question in her current state. And then she's given a command. Without thinking about it, her hand is held out at Scott. It's a ginger movement.
Ainsley watches Scott uncertainly, the sudden change into a confident demeanor having focused her like a needle point on his face.
Scott takes Ainsley's hand and doesn't let go. He doesn't hold that hand tight or anything. Instead, he just places it between his hands and closes his eyes. It may take a moment or two but Ainsley's going to have the sensation of no longer feeling pain. It's a gradual sensation that will intensify the longer that her hand is between Scott's. A look at Scott's hands and arms will show his veins turning a black as this happens. Even Scott's eyes close during this process. But in the end it should definitely help Ainsley to feel better. Not healed but painless.
There's a sound of Ainsley sucking in air when she feels the pain drain from her body. As someone training to be a nurse, the sensation is equal parts worrying and comforting, and she frowns at Scott as it happens. But she cannot help but get a mystified look to her eyes. Vibrancy returns to her gaze, her other hand being used to fix her hair as best she can manage. She checks the cuts on her body, taking full advantage of the loss of pain. She then pats the top of his hand, and tells him, "You can stop now."
A beat. "Cuts like this... am I going to turn into a mo--" she cuts herself off. She has a hard time associating the word 'Monster' with Scott right now. "I'm sorry... For all the trouble. I know you don't need more on your plate right now, and I yelled at you..." She trails off, frowning at him in a different kind of painful way.
"It's fine. I am a monster. Just... not a bad one?" Scott tries to offer a smile in the midst of having to deal with the pain that comes from taking away someone's pain. It courses through his body and he has to shudder slightly to make sure that it has been healed away by his own healing process. He doesn't have to keep the pain. Just needs to make sure Ainsley doesn't have it anymore. He leans slightly against the car. Just to be sure he can still function at full True Alpha capacity in a bit. "I'm not sure what's going to happen. But we need to keep you somewhere safe, just in case. I have a friend. He can take a look at you. Maybe he can give us a better idea of what bit you and what might happen." Scott shrugs but is trying to be positive. "He's really good at that."
Ainsley shows a wry smile at Scott when he confirms he's a monster. She can't help but feel amused about that. She looks at her car with her clearer vision, and leeeans to the side, checking the angle it's stuck at. "I can't just drive this out of here," she observes, shortly before letting out a gruff sound and pulling herself up onto the hood of her car, sitting there. She looks at her wounds with a distant stare, examining the claws to try to divine what flavor of beasty it was that attacked her. She turns her head again, and--
"Is that my door?"
Sure enough, there's the driver's side door of her dumpy little sedan sitting in the dirt. She didn't notice that until now because of the pain.
"Can your friend come and get me?" she wonders at Scott.
"I'm sure he won't mind." Scott goes for his phone again. "I'll stay with you. Then I'll find out what's going on. And I'll make sure you're going to be okay." Scott turns to look at Ainsley now that his fingers are no longer typing. He's being serious at this moment. Super serious. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you." Scott then realizes something has already. He forces a small and uneasy smile. "... anything else."
[Text] Scott McCall texts: Stiles. Ainsley's hurt pretty bad. Something bit her. She needs a ride. Can you?
[Text] Stiles texts: Where? (to Scott McCall)
[Text] Scott McCall texts: We're out at <insert random road by the woods location that all teens know about here also West Hills South>
[Text] Stiles texts: OMW ASAP
[Text] Scott McCall texts: Thanks.
It's the evening hours. Ainsley is sitting on the hood of her car. She's managed to fix her hair up, but she looks like hell, and that's being kind about it. She's got claw marks on her arms and legs that seem strangely shallow considering the blood soaked into her clothing. And her right calf has a pretty pronounced bite on it, but it's not bleeding either. Somehow.
Ainsley's got her hands clasped in her lap, and her eyes fixated straight ahead, barely blinking. She's as quiet as before, and doesn't seem to be in any pain.
Her car, a dumpy little sedan, has had the driver side door ripped clean off. The door is on the ground near the vehicle. Aside from that, the vehicle is stuck at an angle that would require a tow truck to remove it anyways. They're off the main roads a bit, in an area that doesn't see much traffic, especially not in the area where she got run off the road.
Scott McCall, in all of his heroic glory, is right near the car crash and the vehicle. He hasn't left Ainsley's side since he got here. His dirt bike is lying on the ground here nearby as well. He's being pretty quiet too, just to make sure that he doesn't say too much of anything and ruin the awkward silence. By, y'know, making it awkwarder.
He's not even on his phone. Some teenager!
The silence is ruined! By the sound of a sporty engine. Derek's car approaches, with Derek himself driving and Stiles riding shotgun, acting as navigator. Probably a little excitably, since it's Stiles. Derek, naturally, looks cool and collected and, unsurprisingly as the rest, is wearing his usual leather jacket over the rest. It has started to cool off, after all.
Once the Camaro pulls to a stop, Stiles is piling out the door, rushing over to where Scott and Ainsley are. "Okay, ready to go? You can take the front seat, and I'll cram in the back." He turns to Scott, giving him a questioning look but not following it up with actually asking anything except, "Hospital, right?" He takes in the wounds, too, and he certainly doesn't miss the fact that there isn't really all that much blood.
"Unless you've got a better idea than the hospital," Ainsley replies, even though it was a question for Scott, climbing off of her seat and onto her feet. She does this carefully so she doesn't generate more pain for herself than is absolutely necessary. Scott can do a lot, but she's not going to risk exacerbating that leg wound. There's plenty of blood, but not a lot of bleeding... she should be dead right now, actually, she looks awful. She hobbles pretty slowly over to the car, blearily seeking out the nearest door so she can leave this supernatural crime scene.
"That works. I'll go see if Deaton's around. We may have to move her if he is. But for now, the hospital." Scott doesn't really want to send her to the hospital but this is just as good of a time as any to keep her within the Pack's view. His Mom will be there to keep an eye on her. "Don't let anyone check her in but my Mom." And with that, Scott is already epic walking back off in the direction of his dirt bike.
"I've got some hunting to do."