Chapter 3

Stiles POV

The bloody mess of the strong man can't be him. I never knew I even cared. Once upon a time I even wished he would die. Not what I'm thinking now, with my eyes tearing up, filling with water from the deepest part of me. I cradle his head in my arms, slightly elevating it, not wanting the blood to pool in his head. The first cut I notice isn't too deep, like Derek slightly deflected it.

It starts at the indentation between his well-shouldered muscle and the top of his chest muscles, and travels down his collar bone, with pink skin, soft and puffy around the cut, almost like he had an allergic reaction to whatever. However, nothing I've seen before, I spend a lot of time researching aconite, also known as wolfs bane. Can't be silver either, the mutilated man before me once called me a dumbass for assuming werewolves were weak to silver.

Who's the dumbass now Derek, know when to quit! You keep getting into these fights and I can't lose you.

What was I thinking? Derek of all people, why should I care about him?

"No, stop Stiles. You can't go into shock. Derek needs you," I mumble to myself.

Yes, that's what I need. To help him. Oh my God. Short thoughts Stiles. Help. Derek. I lean my head to his chest, gently across his left pectoral, which is sort of awkward because I'm on the left side of him. The few scraps of tattered fabric gently brush against my hear before the warmth of his skin envelopes my hear.

The slowness and quietness of this barely stable heartbeat is unbearable, I want to take my head away from his very in-shape chest. Then I realize of have to, because the heat is practically burning my ear. Great, he's sick. God. I. Can't. Deal.

I finally carry his body, holding around his wait and feeling his abs I manage to get him up to the trunk of my jeep. A grunt/whimper escapes his lips in almost a ghostly way when he lands in the trunk. His eyebrows furrow. For some reason I ust want to sit there and hug him, run my hand across his jaw, to kiss his bottom lip.

"STOP STILES, HE'S GOING TO DIE," I mentally reinforce to myself.

I tear myself away and rub the back of my head to ease myself into my car. I think I do that subconsciously because my mom used to get me to sleep by that, but I can't afford to lose focus. Damn, earlier I was killing to lose focus and not be so bored.

I start crying as I speed of to Derek's house, knowing full and well that I can't go to the hospital with a werewolf.