Chapter 13: The Secrets We Hide

Scott walked into the clinic, his body still buzzing from the thrill of the fight. The smell of antiseptic and animal fur hit him as usual. It was a strange comfort, but today, something else lingered on his clothes—a faint, putrid stench from the ghoul. He could still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins—the rush of victory after tearing the creature apart. As he made his way past the front desk, he noticed Deaton scribbling something in a ledger, his calm demeanor unwavering as usual.

"Hey, Doc," Scott greeted.

He was met with a glance from the vet, his eyes, as always, calm, unreadable. "Good to see you, Scott. How did it go today?"

Scott gave a half-hearted shrug, dropping his backpack behind the counter. "Same old, same old," he muttered, but his eyes didn't leave Deaton's face. He couldn't keep playing this game anymore. Deaton had always been mysterious, but now, Scott thought it was time to talk with him.

He spent the next hour working in near silence, but his mind was whirling. The events from earlier, the encounter with the ghoul—it was like the universe was throwing new dangers his way faster than he could deal with them. And Deaton… He knew so much more than he let on. 

Scott finally finished bandaging up a dog and took a deep breath. Now was the time.

"Deaton, we need to talk," Scott said, standing up straight, facing him.

Deaton looked up from his paperwork, his face still as neutral as ever, though Scott could swear he saw something flicker in his eyes. "Talk? About what?"

Scott walked closer. "About what I am. About what you are."

Deaton's brow furrowed ever so slightly. "Scott, what do you—"

Scott cut him off, his voice firm. "Come on, Doc. Don't play dumb." He raised his hand, letting his claws extend, the sharp tips glinting under the clinic's fluorescent lights. "You knew about the bite, and you knew exactly what I was turning into. You've been keeping secrets. But that's not the problem. I'm not worried about what I am... I'm worried about what *you* are."

Deaton's eyes lingered on Scott's claws for a moment before his face returned to its usual calm mask. "I see. So you've come to that conclusion already?" He leaned back against the counter. His voice remained calm, though there was a new edge to it. "And you're upset about that?"

Scott let his claws retract and shook his head. "No. I get it. Everyone's got their secrets. But I'm done pretending. I know you're not just a regular human. You're a druid, right?"

The shock on Deaton's face was unmistakable, and for the first time, Scott saw him falter. His mouth opened slightly, a rare crack in his composed exterior. "How...?"

"Doc, I'm not as clueless as I used to be. I know more than you think. I've had to learn fast." Scott had the advantage of knowledge—he had seen the future, knew how events would unfold, and most of all, he knew exactly who Alan Deaton was.

Deaton's silence stretched out, and Scott pressed further. "But Doc, I don't know much about Druids. Can you tell me what a Druid is?"

Deaton exhaled deeply, rubbing his hands together as if considering his next move. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. "Well, Scott. A Druid In Gaelic means 'wise oak.' Druids act as advisors, emissaries, and healers to supernatural beings, especially werewolf packs. I was once the emissary to Talia Hale's pack."

Scott knew from his past life that Talia had been a powerful Alpha, Derek's mother, a protector of Beacon Hills. He nodded, urging Deaton to continue.

"Back then, I was part of her pack. But after the fire..." Deaton's voice softened, a hint of sadness creeping into his words. "I lost my pack. Talia was more than just an Alpha. She was a force that kept the peace in Beacon Hills."

Scott's gaze softened. "I'm sorry," Scott said quietly. "For what happened to them."

Deaton gave a small nod, though his face betrayed little emotion. "It's in the past. But what's important now is the present—and the future. You've stepped into a world that's far more dangerous than you realize."

Scott couldn't help but smirk at that. "Trust me, I've seen more than you think. I've already killed a ghoul. Nasty thing." He glanced down at his hands as if reliving the fight. "That thing smelled like death. I thought the stench was from the dead body that me and Styles were looking for, but no—it was the ghoul. Ever seen one before?"

Deaton's eyes widened slightly, clearly taken aback by Scott's revelation. "A ghoul? In Beacon Hills?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah, big ugly thing with white eyes, no hair. It was fast and strong, but I took care of it. You ever run into one before?"

Deaton shook his head, his face grave. "No. Ghouls are rare, and they usually don't wander far from places of death. They're drawn to dark energy."

"Do you think the ghoul is here because of the Nemeton?" Scott asked.

Deaton's eyes narrowed slightly. "You know about the Nemeton too?"

Scott shrugged, trying to play it off. "Like I said, I've learned a lot. But I still don't know everything. What's the deal with it?"

Deaton sighed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "The Nemeton is an ancient tree that sits at the heart of Beacon Hills. It's a powerful source of supernatural energy, a beacon that draws supernatural creatures like moths to a flame. No one knows exactly why, but wherever there's a Nemeton, supernatural beings gather. And the Beacon Hills Nemeton is just one of many around the world."

"So the ghoul was probably drawn here by it?" Scott asked, already knowing the answer but pushing Deaton for more.

"Most likely," Deaton agreed. "And it won't be the last creature that comes sniffing around. You're going to face a lot more threats, Scott. This is just the beginning."

Scott ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of Deaton's words. He had expected as much, but hearing it confirmed by someone with Deaton's experience made it feel more real. "Then I need to protect my family. My mom… my friends… I can't let anything happen to them."

Deaton nodded. "There are ways to shield your home. Mountain ash is one of the most effective. It creates a barrier that most supernatural beings can't cross."

Scott's eyes lit up with determination. "Can we do that? Can you help me put a barrier around my house?"

Deaton smiled softly. "Of course. Let's take care of it now."

Relief washed over Scott. Deaton's knowledge would be invaluable in the battles to come. Together, they left the clinic, heading toward Deaton's car. As they drove toward Scott's house, Scott couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. This world, with all its dangers and mysteries, was now his playground. And with the knowledge he carried from his past life, he would face every challenge head-on.

As the car pulled up in front of his house, Scott looked at Deaton and grinned. "Thanks, Doc. I knew I could count on you."

Deaton returned the grin, though his eyes remained serious. "Just remember, Scott, this is only the beginning. There's still a lot you don't know."

Scott's grin widened. "Then it's a good thing I learn fast." 

With that, they stepped out of the car, ready to lay down the first line of defense in a long and dangerous war.

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