One Shot Is All It Takes
It was an early Saturday morning, in the early fall, early in the school year, and Stiles Stilinski was on the lacrosse field pretending he would make first line this year. He focused on the net, taking turns with his aim and different spots he could hit. He would run back, pick up a ball with his stick, run, and swing, releasing the ball, hurdling it toward the net. Every time he would hit, he would revel in the swish and the slow motion play of the nets recoil in his mind. He was the center at this moment. No one could take that from him. He ran back, picked up another ball with his stick, ran towards the net, and swung, missing the bottom left corner by an inch. He ran back to his pile of balls.
"On shot is all it takes." He whispered aloud, picked up a ball, and ran. "One shot is all it takes!" He yelled and swung, reveling in the swish and the slow motion play of the nets recoil. "One shot. One shot is all it takes."
He had been so intensely focused on his practice, he hadn't noticed the car pull up, the deep laughs that were stifled every time he missed, the general impression and awe with his focus and actual skill, nor did he notice the slight rise in temperature as the day hit noon. He wiped his brow and turned to run to the balls, when he saw Derek coolly leaning against his black Camaro. His brown eyes gazed at the sight, envying the ease at which the werewolf could relax and draw people in. Envying the air of mystery and over all coolness that surrounded Derek Hale. 'Hale.' He repeated the name in his head two more times before Derek spoke.
"We're talking."
"Are you going to kill me?"
"No."
"Are you going to bite me?"
"No." Derek's patience warring thin.
"One more shot."
"Just one."
"One shot is all it takes."
Stiles lined him up, "One shot is all it takes," he whispered again. "One shot is all it takes!" He ran and swung, hitting dead center, reveling in the swish and slow motion play of the nets recoil. He stood in place, panting. "One shot is all it takes."
He turned to the school and started walking, when he heard an uncharacteristic 'whoot' come from the throat of Derek Hale, quickly followed by a 'good job, Stiles.'
"What the hell is going on?" Stiles pondered aloud as he grabbed his duffle bag and head outside, back to the wolf he thought would be waiting.
When he reached the door, after walking what seemed like an impossibly long hallway, the werewolf was gone. No green eyes and no black Camaro. "Derek Hale." He called out. "Where the hell are you? Come on." As he was met with less sound than he thought imaginable, he felt his fears begin to grip him. "Derek Hale, this isn't cool!" Even more silence met him. Fear taking hold, he saw his jeep and sprinted; feeling eerily light weighted, but not getting to the jeep fast enough. He ran for what he could have sworn was over ten minutes, finally reaching his Jeep and bounding into the drivers seat.
"Deep breathes," he said to himself as he fisted his duffle for Scott's emergency inhaler. "Deep breathes." He puffed, calming himself, slowing his heart beat. "Derek, where are you?" He sighed as he saw a fog start to swim into the high school parking lot. He drove off, heading to Scott's house, hoping the puppy-eyed young wolf would be able to distract him, or at least find Derek.
"So he just disappeared?" Scott asked.
"Yes. Vanished; gone; thin air; invisible; ghosted; whatever you want to call it, it happened."
"Did you check his parent's house?"
"No, the fog's too thick, I'd get lost. You go."
"Why me? You're the one he's messing with."
"I don't have magical werewolf eyes! Can I borrow yours? No? Okay, you go. Why aren't you more upset at the fact that he wants me dead?"
"Derek doesn't want you dead."
"He's trying to kill me!"
"Derek would never kill you. Be a pain in your ass maybe, but he would never kill you." Scoot laughed at his words as they slid between his teeth.
"Why are you laughing?"
"You don't get it?"
"No!" Scott laughed even harder at how upset Stiles had become. "Fine, I'll go by myself."
"One shot is all it takes, Stiles."
"How does that tie in what we're talking about?"
"Just go." Scott laughed again, and Stiles left for the burned down house.
Stiles was standing at the top of the stairs inside of the old Hale house. Derek Hale wasn't there. Just as he was giving up the search, he lifted his head to peer out of the window and into the woods when he saw him, Derek Hale, looking up at him from the edge of the trees, tears etched on his face. Stiles stepped forward and sat in the window of the second floor. He jumped.
"What's wrong, Derek Hale?" asked as he shifted out of the wolf's arms to stand on his own two feet.
"You rarely call me Derek Hale. Why are you doing this?"
"Why am I doing what?"
"Running and hiding from me."
"You're the one hiding. Why did you scare me earlier?"
"You're the one scaring me."
Crack! The sound echo through Stiles brain, then another blared through, and Derek hale fell. Derek Hale falling played on in slow motion as if it weren't real.
Stiles fell to his knees, hovering over Derek. "Derek, Derek, it'll be okay"
-He had been shot.
"Stiles, one shot is all it takes."
-He was slowly fading away.
"No, it doesn't. Not if it's you. You can't die."
-Derek was crying.
"One." Derek let escape his lips.
-They kissed.
Stiles held his eyes shut tight, wishing, hoping, and praying he were elsewhere. When he opened the again, he saw two green jewels staring at him, tears etched on the edges. Derek had still been looking at him. But he wasn't in the woods, there was white behind Derek's head, and light. Bright light, then Derek said something, he couldn't hear.
"What?" he croaked.
"You're awake!" Derek smiled, kissing Stiles' lips between words. "You're awake." He was kissed again.
"What?"
"The school. You don't remember?"
"No."
Nurses and doctors flooded the room, checking Stiles' vital signs, as Derek recounted the events that had played out. Derek told him about how they were at the school because Stiles wanted to get some practice in before he went home to change. How a group of hunters appeared and one had grabbed and used Stiles as a threat. Then when Derek gave up, the hunter shot him in his torso anyway.
Stile knew Derek had killed the men. He had no need to be told so. He knew everything. He remembered everything. Most importantly, he remembered Derek hovering over him not long after the hunter shouted, "One shot is all it takes," and shot him. He looked up to Derek as the nurses, doctors, family, his dad, and other friends left, and grabbed the taller collar, pulling him into a deep kiss. "I love you, Derek Hale. I love you."
"I love you too, Stiles." Derek smiled.
Derek was at the hospital everyday for the next three days until Stiles was released. The doctors called it a miracle that he healed so quickly, he simply told them, "One shot is all it takes to make your body realize you can't leave." He gave them a wide smile and left the hospital behind, hand in Derek's. He knew that Derek was the reason he healed so quickly. Derek Hale. His love. His mate.
Hey guys,
So this is my first post, and I would very much appreciate reviews.
Also, feel free to give advice and suggestions.
I'm a performer by nature so pleasing you readers is my main goal with this series.