My eyes scan over the metal troughs, meeting with the two pairs of closed eyes. They're motionless. They're still asleep. Still lying dead beneath the waters surface. It's wrong- something has to be wrong. Why is it taking so long?

Dread has begun to creep at the edge of my mind, standing off to the side; slowly making its presence known. I tried to see their future, see anything related to them, but i couldn't. Each time I tried, I was only met with the backs of my eyelids.

Deaton said it's because I'm exhausted and I should rest, so after the eighth hour of us waiting, I had Lydia drive me home. She was tired too, I could see the sleepy look in her eyes.

I glanced over at her as we pull up to my house. "You should come in and rest too. You need it just as much as I do." I forced out a light laugh, it was breathy and my smile didn't quite meet my eyes.

Lydia rolled her eyes slightly and sighed. "I'm not the one who's pregnant. I'm sure you need rest more than I do. And you're injured." Lydia went to open the car door, probably to grab my crutches- which sucked by the way, my arms were already sore from using them.

"I'll only sleep if you do." I crossed my arms, wincing at my sore breasts and quickly uncrossing them. Lydia stopped and turned to me, her head tilted to the side.

"Fine. We'll sleep for three hours and then we're going back to the clinic though." I nodded in agreement. Feeling actually excited for the relief sleep would give me.

"Where am I?"

My voice echoed around the dark room. The walls were wet and had a weird liquid dripping from them. I frowned but moved forward down the hallway, toward a faint glow of light.

The strange thing was, that the closer I got, the farther away the light went.

I brought myself into a full on sprint. "Wait!" I yelled, reaching forward toward the light. I couldn't reach it, the more I tried, the slower I ran. It was like running through quicksand.

"Victoria. . ." I froze in place as a woman's voice filled my head, it was so loud. I covered my ears with two hands but it sounded again. "Victoria. . ."

I closed my eyes and covered my ears as tightly as possible, I could feel myself falling through the floor.

"Victoria!"

My knees cut open against the gravel. I dropped down onto my side, curling up into a ball. "Please stop!"

I sat up, the feeling of sweat dripping down my neck made me feel uneasy and like I needed to throw up. I gasped for air, my breath coming in a couple heavy pants.

I could feel Lydia's eyes on me, concerned. "Victoria, are you okay?" She asked, unsure.

My eyes fell closed and I took a couple breaths. Was I okay? Yeah, I mean it was just another nightmare. . . I hadn't had a nightmare in so long, i forgot how real they felt.

"Y- yeah. I'll be okay." I nodded, forcing a smile toward her, to ensure that I was convincing. "Just a nightmare."

Lydia eyed me. "What'd you see?" She asked, I gave her a look. "I don't wanna talk about it right now." Lydia nodded in understanding.

I sat up on the bed and brought my legs over the edge, wincing in pain as I moved my leg in the wrong way. I reached for the crutches and looked over at Lydia who was standing by the door.

"How long has it been?" I asked, worry lacing my words. Lydia looked at her phone and then back at me. "12 hours. Deaton hasn't called or anything. We should probably get over there."

I nodded, standing up with the crutches, my arms were aching from the recent overuse. A slight groan left my throat and I felt Lydia at my side in a second.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her eyes holding worry. Weird how three months ago, Lydia barely looked at me, yet now she's worried about me.

I shook my head. "My arms are sore from the crutches. I'll be fine though." She nodded and we made our way out of the room and into the hall.

It's weird, how quiet my house is when my brother and dad aren't here. I hadn't noticed before but, now that they're gone, the silence is deafening. My eyes look over at my brothers door, I feel an ache in my heart that wouldn't go away until I saw him breathing again. The ache was worse than any physical pain I've ever felt.

This pain was even worse than when my mom died. . . And maybe that's because it's not only my brother who's gone; dad's missing. They're both gone, and I have no control over it.

I didn't know I was crying until Lydia put her hand on my shoulder, and sent me a sad smile. The tears slid down my cheeks and dropped down my chin. I furiously wiped at them. "Ugh, all I do is cry. I hate crying." I growled out in frustration.

It was true. I feel like most of my time is spent with tears running down my face. I hate how weak it makes me look, how it makes me feel.

Lydia put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a side hug. "There's nothing wrong with crying. You're going through a lot right now." I nodded and sighed, wiping at my eyes.

"Thanks Lyds. I appreciate it, really." I gave her a smile and she nodded. We really shouldn't be waiting around. Scott and Stiles could wake up any moment. "We should go." Lydia nodded and we finally left the house.

We pulled up to the clinic and went inside, Deaton and Isaac looked exhausted. And they said I needed rest? I wanted to scoff at how hypocritical they were.

Deaton was pacing the length of the room, his eyebrows drawn together in worry and his arms crossed with one hand at his chin. Isaac was sitting in the chair with droopy eyes, you could see the dark circles beginning to form.

I cleared my throat and both pairs of eyes turned to me, Deaton smiled. It wasn't a real smile though, this smile held worry and uncertainty. "Glad to see you got some rest." I nodded and forced a smile.

My eyes found the grey tubs again and I felt the worry surface again. It was like a hand was wrapped around my heart, and at any moment it would crush me. I need them to be okay.

"How long has it been?" I asked while stepping toward my brother and Scott's tubs. They still looked dead, their skin was paler than it should be, and Stiles' skin was tinted purple from the ice. It was wrong, everything about this is wrong.

Deaton moves to stand beside me. "14 hours." He crossed his arms and leaned his weight on one side.

I silently moved to the tubs. I stared into the trough, looking down at Scott. His hair floated toward the surface of the water, looking soft and weightless. His face was relaxed-dead. I've never been as worried as I am now.

I allowed myself to sit in the metal chair between the two troughs that held my brother and sort-of boyfriend. Just one vision, I mentally whispered to myself, a quick look to see if they even have a future. I gulped back the lump in my throat.

My eyes found Deaton, silently asking for permission. He nodded, a stiff motion. I rolled up my sleeves, pushing them past my elbows. I was overly aware of the feeling of the fabric as it rubbed against my skin. I bit my lip, hard.

Goosebumps rose on my skin as my fingers passed through the icy water in Scott's tub. I silently gasped as my hand locked with his. His hand was oddly warm in comparison to the chill of the ice bath.

I then turned to Stiles' tub, repeating the same action in grabbing his hand. He was cold, so cold. I wanted to cry, but I didn't have the time. I closed my eyes and took in a shaky breath. I could feel my heart rate slow and I was being tilted backward. Falling... falling...until I dropped into a vision. My skin was ice and the room was pitch black.

"Stiles!" I turned as I heard my voice calling through the darkness, only my lips weren't moving. I wrapped my arms around myself, in an attempt to warm my body. Ice prickled at my skin, chilling me to the bone.

I cautiously moved forward, unsure of where I was. My footsteps echoes against the walls of, what I now realized was, the school hallway. Lockers lined the hall, but no one was there. The school was empty, I realized.

"You can't kill me!" Stiles? I turned toward the sound of my brothers voice. A hall split in the middle of the lockers and what I saw was strange. I could see myself, Scott and... another girl; we were backing away from. . . Stiles? No it can't be him. His eyes were dark and clouded with anger. So much anger.

"Stiles?" I questioned but, it was no use. H couldn't hear me, even if I screamed. My voice came out dull an muffled, like I was talking through a pillow.

"Victoria..."

I spun around, facing the call of my name. No one was there, only darkness; the lockers had disappeared leaving nothing in its place. I stepped into the dark, moving further into it. For some reason, I felt drawn to it. "Victoria." The voice called my name again, sending ice through my veins. Something is wrong. Why am I hearing the same voice from my nightmare.

"Victoria!" The voice was louder now, so loud. I covered my ears wincing as the voice boomed my name. "VICTORIA!" I let out a yell of frustration and pain. Where was this voice coming from, my eyes searched but I came up with only the black abyss that surrounding me. A scream left my lips with the next yell of my name, and I could feel my knees give out.

And just like that....

I was awake.

I jerked my hands out of the water, my fingers felt frozen to the bone. The vision left me with a deep seeded chill. I felt two hands on my arms, small and warm. I leaned into the hands that I figure are Lydias. I glanced up, I was right.

"Victoria, What'd you see?" She sounded worried. I shook my head and swallowed— or tried to swallow, my mouth and throat were bone dry. "T-they're— They'll be okay." My eyes went to my brother. "I think." I whispered the last part so nobody could hear me.

Everyone in the room visibly relaxed at my revelation. Everyone but me. I was stuck on my dream, and on my vision... That voice. What did it mean? My heart thumped wildly against my ribs as I attempted to process what I'd seen— What I'd heard.

"Good, so they should wake-up soon then?" Lydia directed the question at Deaton but, her eyes were on me, I felt them burning on the back of my head. Deaton nodded, I think, I'm not quite sure what was going on. My focus was on my brother. In my vision, his eyes... I shivered, he scared me. The hatred in his face as he stalked toward Scott, that girl, and I; it wasn't Stiles.

Stiles wasn't ever angry—okay, he did get angry; everyone does, but the anger I saw in his eyes wasn't him. I felt a sharp pain in my lip and I instantly let my lip go from between my teeth. My tongue glided over my, now swollen, lip. A metallic taste filled my senses. Shoot, I made myself bleed. I need to stop worrying. It's not good for me, and certainly not good for my babies.

"What else did you see, Victoria? You look shaken-up." Deaton knelt in front of me, his eyebrows knitted together in clear concern. I looked up and locked eyes with him. I forced a smile on my face, and I shook my head slightly. "I'm fine. It was nothing the visions just..." Just what? I quickly thought of an excuse. "Wear me out?" Ugh, that sounded like a question. Deaton looked so skeptical but, luckily he nodded and let it be.

After he walked off, my eyes found the tubs again, and I couldn't help but wonder what it was I saw. Would Stiles be okay?

Edit: 4/3/2020