[A/N: I got over 100 hits on this! WHOOT! I really do appreciate the people who have reviewed because that is what makes the author feel like you appreciate the work. Please take the time to let me know how you feel about my story.
Ok, my whiny person moment is over. I apologies, I just feel all sorry for myself.
This chapter is for my friend's brother who was found dead of heart problems a few days ago.
It's going to get a little... bloody. I thought the medical care in episode 4 was very fictitious so I tried to fix that.
Second A/N: So, people REALLY like this story I came up with on the fly and now I have this huge problem where people are telling me to get my butt into gear and write the rest of it. And you know what? Just because I freaking love you crazy people, I'm gonna finish this thing if it kills me. This chapter has now been edited for your fangirl and fanguy purposes.]
Wolfs Bane
By wolfgal97
Chapter 3
The sound of my cell door opening up woke me from my light sleep. I had learned to stay slightly conscious after so many years so that I was never taken by surprise. If you are unprepared for anything here, you will lose your control and sanity. You must always be ready to take a blow.
It was Gage, the huge, but stupid hunter. I walked up to him, expecting him to grab my wrists to cuff them, but he didn't. Instead, he spoke for what seemed like the first time.
"Number Thirteen, today after school you will not be coming back here until you are notified to. We have rented and apartment in town for you to stay in so that people won't become suspicious. You will report there at eleven o'clock. If you don't, it will-"
"Will resort in my being hunted down and killed, I got the message." I usually never interrupted, but I was nervous. The rules of the game I had become an expert at were changing and I was playing blind.
"We will need to do one more thing before you go," he said, grabbing me by the back of my neck. He walked me to the medical room for werewolves, which was just a crude table and wicked tools used to keep dying wolves alive for interrogation. I didn't fear death, and I knew they weren't going to kill me today, but something in my heart tightened as he shoved me onto the table face down.
His huge, meaty hand pushed down on my head, holding me there. My eyes squinted from the pressure and I almost started to fight back as instinct. Instead, I breathed to keep control of myself. The man who they call Doctor and we wolves call Butcher came in, gloves on. I saw the tray of gleaming tools next to me and I saw him grab a few.
He walked behind me so that I couldn't see him and slipped the shoulder of my shirt down, exposing my skin. This was completely new to me and I had no idea what was coming. I kept breathing slowly to keep myself from thrashing. I knew it wouldn't do any good.
I felt the tip of a blade bite into my skin. Now, most people think when you get cut, it feels like it burns, like a fire licking your skin. That is not the case. In fact, it's a cold and numbing feeling. Like ice had been on you for so long that it becomes painful. It freezes you and makes all thought leave your mind.
The blade of ice traced about three inches in a line, opening up my flesh. I could smell my own blood pour out and could feel the Butcher's fingers probe the tender spot. He separated the flaps of skin and pushed something that felt flat like a little disc into the spot. That hurt more than the cutting. It felt like someone was wedging a nail into wood only with my body.
"I won't bother with stitches," his gruff voice mumbled as my body instantly started to heal the sore. Like all werewolves, when a sore heals itself, the pain of getting it comes back and multiplies by double. It was the cost of healing so fast, and it was well worth it.
Gage let me sit up and I rolled my shoulder a few times, getting used to the feel of it. My body could feel what they inserted, but it didn't hurt or feel odd there.
"Tracking device?" The hunter nodded his bald head. Crap. I had known this was coming.
"Kate said that when you complete your mission, we will have it removed. Also," he said, handing me keys, "she will meet you tonight at the apartment. If you don't do your job, you will be moved back here where we have better tools for dealing with your kind. Don't think it wont happen. Now, get out. You know the way."
Uhh . . . did he just tell me I could go somewhere with out a hunter attached to my hip?
I tentatively stepped to the door. I looked back at him over my chipped shoulder to see him looking expectantly at me. I walked out the door and practically jogged down the hall to get out. The doors opened for me and I broke out of my prison.
I walked down the trail to the road, not quite sure what I was supposed to do. When I got there, I saw a yellow taxi parked on the side of the road. He waved me over to him. I made my way to his window.
"I'm supposed to pick up a girl who looks like you. If you are the Creed girl, I'm supposed to take you to your apartment." I smirked.
"Yeah, that's me," I say hopping into the back seat. I looked more closely at the key I had been given to find my apartment number. Engraved into the bronze metal was the number thirteen. I grimaced. Kate didn't miss a beat to cause emotional pain.
I didn't say anything on the way there and I suddenly decided to become interested in my fingernails. When the car pulled to a stop, I looked up to see the apartments they all must be talking about. I knew this area, and saw that it was close to the school by about two blocks.
I thanked the driver and tried to pay him, but he told me it had been taken care of. I mentally rolled my eyes and walked up to door number thirteen. The key fit perfectly and the lock popped open smoothly. When I opened the door, my heart almost stopped.
Inside was a two floor little home. One the first floor, a couch and chairs filled a corner with a TV. On the other side of the room was a small kitchen with a bar to eat at. I walked around, inhaling the sent of the place. It was fresh, modern and clean. Something I hadn't known for so many years of imprisonment.
I stomped my way up the stairs, my hand sweeping over the banister. Upstairs was a bed that matched the black and white theme. There was also a bathroom and a little black marble desk. It had files on it in creme colored folders. I walked over to it and didn't bother to it down in the black chair.
There were five files and on each one had a different name. The top one was my own. Inside the tabbed folder was information about me.
Zeva Creed
Family: Damon Creed(father) Blair Creed(mother)
Species: Werewolf
Transfiguration Date: N/A Born a wolf
Significant Kills: Unknown
Status: Alive
By this information was a picture of me bleeding from the scar on my eye I had gotten when I came to the Base. I could see the burn on my neck from where they branded me with hot wolfsbane so it wouldn't heal that day.
"Oh come on guys, that's the best you could do?," I asked to no one, regarding my state in the picture. I also noticed they didn't have much information on me. I smiled at that fact. I also noticed a little bio page of me. It spoke about my childhood and how my parents were murdered by hunters. It talked about me moving in with the Hales. It even had suspicions of Derek and I hooking up! Ha ha, that's funny, my inner voice said sarcastically. The bio continued with my capture and ended up with me becoming a Bloodhound.
Thanks Kate, thanks a lot.
I shuffled further into the pile, keeping them neat. I found the next file with only, "The Alpha," written on it. My curiosity got the better of me and I flipped it open.
The Alpha
Family: Unknown
Species: Werewolf
Transfiguration Date: Unknown
Sufficient Sires: Unknown
Sufficient Kills: 5 verified/ 1 suspected (Laura Hale)
Status: Alive
I glared at Laura's name being on that list. It hurt to think she's dead. I felt myself fill with hate when I saw his status. It felt like someone stabbed me in the chest to think that she was dead while that killer ran of free. Not if I have anything to do with it. No picture, so I looked at the bio, expecting to be as empty as the information above. Instead, there was a sticky note addressed to me.
Fill out the info as you get it in all folders. - Kate.
I inhaled deeply, feeling the stress all over me. I tossed that folder away too. The next one creeped me out. It was a name I recognized.
Laura Hale
Family: Peter Hale(uncle), Derek Hale(brother)
Species: Werewolf
Transfiguration Date: N/A Born a wolf
Significant Sires: None
Significant Kills: Unknown
Status: Deceased
Cause of Death: Attack
Killed by: Unknown
I felt overwhelmed with depression reading this whole thing. That was my sister that had been tracked. My best friend who had been murdered. It scared me to see any information that was true, like her family and angered me. I skimmed the bio and ignored the picture of the top half of her dead body, my vision blurring with rage. It talked mostly about the fire and the finding of her body. I slammed the cover shut, not wanting to read anymore.
Suddenly, panic filled me. I looked under Laura's file to see a name I hadn't expected. Why would they have a file on Peter? They didn't have much, but it scared me to see that they had anything.
It said how Derek and Laura are his nephew and niece, and the fact he's a werewolf. It also had his status being comatose. The hunters have had their eyes on the Hales for a long time now. His bio talked about him being burned in the fire at that was about it. They didn't bother getting a picture.
The name on the last folder made me stop breathing for a minute. The name I dreaded seeing most.
Derek Hale
Family: Laura Hale(sister) and Peter Hale(uncle)
Species: Werewolf
Transfiguration Date: N/A Born a wolf
Significant Kills: Unknown
Status: Alive
I would never let that last word change while I was still able to move. Paper clipped to the corner of the page was a picture of Derek glaring up at a gas station. He knew he was being watched by a security camera and didn't like it. It was blurry, but it was him.
His bio talked about him having a dark temperament and being very strong. It spoke about possibly having an unknown girlfriend as a young teen and the fire. After that, he fell off the radar until he came back here. He was sighted with a Beta wolf in the woods on the full moon. That was where it left off. I guessed the other Beta was Scott.
I closed the folder and stacked them up again. I left them laying on the table and made my way to the closet. It was still early, but I had to get to the school, meaning I had to change from the clothes I wore yesterday. I pulled out a pair of black tights with a long hanging olive colored top. I reminded myself to ask Kate about shopping for real clothes. I slipped on my black leather jacket and ran out the front door.
I made the quick walk over to the school in time to see Stiles pull up. I walked over to the familiar face and smiled at him. He hopped out of his Jeep to come see me.
"Hey," he greeted and put his arms around me in a hug. I felt my body stiffen, preparing for an attack or pain to come. I hadn't had positive physical contact for six years. The last person to embrace me was Laura when she got home the day of the fire.
I remember her hugging me when she saw me on my knees outside her home. We held onto each other for support, grief taken over us. I had sobbed into her shirt, and I remember looking over her shoulder to see Derek watching us. He had turned his head and looked away.
Stiles pulled away when he felt my unease. "What's wrong?" He was worried about my odd behavior. I thought up a lie fast. It wasn't even a total lie.
"I hurt my shoulder this morning. Sorry. Nothing personal."I smiled brightly to lighten the mood and he bought it. We heard a sound of gravel shifting and I spun around to see Scott arriving on his bike. He got off it and put it on the rack, chaining it there.
"Scott," Stiles called out to his friend. The boy walked over to us.
"Hey guys, what's up?" He sounded stressed and I could bet why. Being a new werewolf must not be easy. Dark circles were formed under his eyes, making him look older.
"Nothing. What's wrong with you," I asked, not wanting to be questioned.
"It's that dumb test from the other day. I'm worried about my grade on it."
"I'm sure you'll do fine. It's not like you can get a D or something. People who do that must have a talent for being stupid or something," Stiles added to make Scott feel better.
"We better get to first hour," I noted. I started to walk off to get my stuff and I could hear two sets of feet following me. We got to class on time and were handed back our papers. From the fact Stiles told Scott he needed to study more, I could tell he had done bad on the test.
Then, they continued about a study date at Allison's. This boy, this werewolf, was dating a hunter's daughter. Real smart there, Scottie. Apparently Stiles assumed that they would do more then study on this date.
Classes and lunch went by without any problems. It was actually a rather slow day filled of studying, Scott eyeing Allison, Stiles making me laugh, and Jackson glaring soulfully at Scott for some odd reason. It was my last hour when I noticed something was off.
Jackson had forgotten his homework in his locker and went out to get it. He didn't come back though, and I started to worry. I kicked on the wolf hearing to see if I could find him in the hall, probably making out with Lydia. But instead, I picked up another voice that I was surprised to hear.
"I'll find him myself," Derek's deep voice grumbled. I heard Jackson say something about not being done with him and a loud bang sounded. Not loud enough to alert the humans, but enough for me to hear like it was happening right next to me.
The teacher glanced at his watch and dismissed the class, mumbling about how he would talk to Jackson later under his breath. I collected my books and walked out of the classroom into the sea of people in the hall. My eyes flashed left and right looking for the dark werewolf, but I didn't see him.
I shrugged it off. Maybe I was just wishing he was here. I put away most of my things and grabbed my bag that had homework in it which I already mostly had done from study hall.
The bell to signal the end of the day rang, hurting my ears and making my inner voice grumble about how they should make schools werewolf friendly. I scoffed to myself at the idea and shuffled out to the parking lot.
Scott was unhooking his bike from the rack and Stiles was getting into his Jeep and was pulling out. He was getting ready to drive off when a dark form walked in front of his car holding up a hand to stop. My eyes widened, realising that it was Derek. I ran over to him as he fell over onto the ground.
"Derek!" I gasped. What was wrong with him? Stiles got out of his car and came to his side and Scott was right behind me. I got down on the ground next to Derek, not touching him. I didn't know what page he was on in how he felt about me.
"What are you doing here?" Scott half hollered and half whispered at him.
Derek propped himself up on his arm, face contorting with pain. "I was shot," he gasped out.
"He's not looking so good," Stiles mumbled.
"Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked the question I wanted an answer to.
"It- it was a different kind of bullet."
"What, a silver bullet?" Stiles sounded excited to some action was happening.
"No, you idiot," Derek managed to seethe, even in his state.
"That's what she meant by you having forty-eight hours!" My head snapped in Scott's direction.
"Who said?" I growled. I was beyond angry.
"The one who shot him." Suddenly, Derek's eyes flashed an ice blue like a husky's. They flickered between his human grey and wolf blue for a few moments before Scott told him to stop it.
"That's what I'm try to tell you! I can't!" Derek was hurting and was using anger to cover it up.
"Derek, get up," Scott commanded. Derek made a face that looked like it said, "you try getting shot with a jacked up bullet and then doing as punk teens tell you to." If it hadn't been so serious, I may have laughed.
Scott saw the look and got it's message. I helped him to pick up Derek and gently set him in Stiles' Jeep. I hopped in the back, not wanting to leave him. I touched his arm, "Let me see." I was suspecting the worst. He yanked off his jacket and exposed his arm to me, letting me see the wound.
His muscled arm had a bullet wedged into the flesh of it, and it glowed a dark blue. The skin around it was red and it clearly hurt. I knew the bullet by the funny color. It was a bullet that had a rare form of wolfsbane in it.
I knew the bullet and it's remedy because I had been shot with it, too, a long time ago. Kate decided to save my life because I showed promise as a Bloodhound. She knew because it's her signature bullet. My heart sped up, thinking that she got close enough to him to shoot him. This was not good.
"I know what it is. It's wolfsbane. You're going to have to get the bullet, Scott."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Your girlfriend! She's an Argent. She's with them," Derek huffed out. His breathing was becoming short.
"If you don't get the bullet, he's dead," I said. I wasn't going to let that happen.
"And that's such a bad thing?"
"Scott, please," I begged. I didn't beg, but I couldn't let Derek die.
"You need me if you want to learn how to be a werewolf."
"No I don't. Zeva could help me," Scott assumed.
"If you don't help him, I swear the only thing you'll get from me is a slow and painful death." I could do it too. I could make the threat happen whether it be by my hand or the hunters'.
Silence flooded the car. Stiles' mouth kind of hung open like a fish and Derek's eyes studied my dead serious face. Scott could tell I wasn't jacking around.
"Fine. I'll see what I can do," he said, backing up from the car so we could drive off. People behind us were starting to get out of their cars, seeing honking wasn't working.
"I so hate you for this," Stiles yelled at Scott before shooting like a loaded gun out of the school parking lot. We drove a bit out of town, and I recognized where we were going.
"Stiles, you can't take him to his house," I told the driver. He pulled off to the side of the road.
"Why not?"
"Because, he can't fight off any hunters if they came after him. Look at him," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. Stiles ran a hand over his head, and brought it down hard on the wheel.
"What if Scott can't find your little magic bullet?" Stiles ask Derek, "Are you dying?"
"Not yet. Last resort," Derek managed to say. He was looking worse, and so did his sore. He rolled up his sleeve again and we both saw the beginning of his veins becoming visible.
"Oh gosh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out." Stiles looked away from the bloody sight while I took a closer look. I noticed little cuts in his arm around the bullet.
"You tried to take it out?"
He looked at me, his face pale and nodded.
"You can't do that on this kind of bullet, They're made so you can't pull them out because the poison is already in your blood." I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and ripped it off into a long strip. Then, I wrapped the olive cloth around his arm to stop the bleeding. My fingers grazed his pale skin lightly. It was the first time I had touched him in years. I shoved the thoughts away to deal with his hurt arm.
"Where should we take him then," Stiles asked, drawing my attention. I thought for a moment.
"We can take him to the apartment. My step-mom won't be home until eleven so the place is empty." Stiles nodded and started the car. I directed him to the the place and he parked.
"Step-mom?" Derek asked. My face fell. Crap, that story wasn't going to work on him.
"She's not related to me or anything. I was a minor and given a guardian. She told me if anyone asked she would be my step-mom and I didn't argue."
"I'm glad you were able to go out and get a new family," Derek said sarcastically through his teeth.
"Can we please not go there right now? In case you didn't notice, you're jacked up at the moment." I crossed my arms as he grunted to prove my point.
"Well I figured if I'm going to die, might as well get it all out."
I grimaced thinking about his death. It wasn't even an option.
"Positivity is not in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles joked, trying to be funny. We each weaved arms with Derek to support him.
"You don't even know what we're talking about, so shut up," growled Derek.
We got into the apartment and helped settle him on the couch. I went to the kitchen and pulled out a towel and cup, ignoring his comment.
"Look, you getting mad and speeding up your poisoned blood flow to your body isn't going to help you live any longer. I have something that will. Stiles, I may need your help." He automatically walked over to me as I brought the equipment back to the coffee table and sat next to Derek.
He glared at me, but didn't move.
I held out my hand, silently asking for his arm. If he didn't give it to me, I wasn't going to ask nicely again. His eyes shifted like a trapped animal looking for escape, but eventually gave in, plopping his arm in my hand.
"What are you going to do?" Stiles asked. I looked up into eyes which looked so innocent.
"Have you ever seen someone suck out snake venom?" I asked, cluing him in.
He nodded his head and said, "On animal planet." I smiled, but went back to Derek's arm. I focused on controlling my body. I felt my eyes change to silver as I let my fingernails grow into wolf length. I could feel fear coming off of Stiles.
"Let me guess," I said while making a small cut into a vein of Derek's hurt arm, "any other times you've seen someone wolf out, you get attacked?"
"Yeah. Scott's not very good at not attacking me. His wolf person thinks I'm a chew toy in disguise." I snorted, and put my lips to Derek's pale skin over the cut. I started sucking at it to draw out some of the wolfsbane in his body. I felt the poison burn the insides of my mouth and I spat it out into the cup on the table. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and went back at it.
It continued like that for some time, and my mouth kept burning more and more. It was trying to heal and had fresh pain tossed onto it each time. Eventually I couldn't get anything more out of it and I looked regretfully at the cup that had a sickening liquid filling about a forth of it.
"Get rid of that," I asked Stiles, mumbling through puffed up lips. I guess I looked like an Angelina Jolie wannabe. I took the towel and re-wrapped Derek's arm to slow the blood flow in that area.
"Uh, ok. When did you become the doctor of werewolves?" Stiles asked, a nervous laugh in his voice.
"I've dealt with plenty of jacked up wolves in my day. Plus I always had a talent at medicine. When we were kids, Derek did some dumb crap and I usually fixed it."
"What did I so that was so stupid?" Derek huffed, looking at me with a quizzical look and an almost smirk.
Stiles wanted in on this story. "Yeah, what did the big bad wolf ever do wrong?"
"One time the genius climbed a tree in the middle of the night when we were fourteen and thought it would be a great idea to jump out of the top when he couldn't get back down. When he landed, his leg snapped."
Derek grimaced and Stiles looked like a kid in a candy shop.
"And then, he didn't tell anyone because he was too embarrassed and it ended up healing off. He walked around in pain with a limp for a day until I asked him what the hell he did to himself."
"You don't limp today," Stiles said to the hurt man. He kept his face emotionless to the normal eye, but I could tell he was embarrassed.
"That's because she had to fix it. She re-broke it and splinted it so it would heal right." Stiles' mouth fell open in shock and a slight disgust.
"You werewolves have a death wish or something." Stiles' cell phone went off from a text. His face grew angry and he read it aloud.
"'Need more time.' Yeah, sure you do."
"Tell him to call you," I said, getting annoyed at the teen wolf. Derek was ok for the moment, my little trick buying him some time, but he wasn't going to make it another two hours. Stiles sent the text, and we waited.
Scott was being slow about it. I knew it. Derek had a little color back now in his face, but I could tell he was still screwed. His head lay back on the couch, making him look to the ceiling. As much as I tried, I couldn't help but watch him while I shifted back to human form.
Stiles' phone rang, interrupting the dead silence. Scott's number and picture of him getting hit with a lacrosse ball popped up on the screen. Stiles hit the accept button and heard him say hey.
"Don't, 'hey' me. I stuck here with a dying werewolf. Did you get the bullet?" he snapped, putting it on speaker so we could all hear.
"No, I haven't! This place is like the freaking Walmart of guns," he grumbled from the other end of the line.
"Well you better hurry up. Zeva can only do so much. Derek's not looking very good. And he's starting to smell."
"Like what?" Said the curious Scott. I scoffed and Derek glared at the teen boy, nose flaring. Stiles shivered in fear for his life.
"Like death," he hissed, and I'll admit it, I laughed. He smiled until he saw that murdering werewolf look on Derek's face.
"Ask Scott if we can go to the animal shelter. He's cutting it close so I may have to use my last resort," Derek commanded.
"I heard you. Sure, my boss is gone and Stiles knows where the hidden key is."
"Hurry up, Scott," I growled. I had the same look as Derek on my, slightly pissed at the teen wolf for being inept.
Stiles ended the called and put the phone in his back pocket. I was already helping Derek to his feet, and he wasn't staying there. Stiles walked over and looped arms with the werewolf to help hold him up.
We loaded up in the Jeep and took the fastest rout to the clinic, not having any traffic helped and we made it there in about five minuets.
We made our way into the operating room and Derek ripped his shirt off and started digging for something in the cabinets.
For a second, my mind was totally wiped clean. I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook it off. It sure wasn't the first time I'd seen him shirtless, and I bet it wouldn't be the last.
"Anyone want to explain to me what plan B is?" Stiles asked. Suddenly Derek pulled out a saw and held it up, a grim look on his face.
"You're going to cut off my arm. If the infection reaches my heart, It'll kill me." This was the time the little record in my head made that screeching sound.
"I don't think I can do that," Stiles said.
"Why not?" he asked through his teeth while tying plastic around the top of his bicep.
"Because the sawing through the flesh and the bone and especially the blood!"
Derek smacked the table and shook his head in exasperation. "You faint at the sight of blood?"
"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!"
"Fine! You cut off my arm, or I'll cut off your head!"
"Derek! Don't threaten him. If the time comes, I'll do it." I said. I really didn't want to. but I would do anything before I let him die.
Derek fixed me with a hard look, but it passed when I saw his face pale. He turned to the side quickly, black blood pouring out of his mouth. His system was trying to heal, but it couldn't. It was time and I knew it.
His eyes found mine. He knew, too.
"Now. You gotta do it now," he said.
I picked up the saw and placed it on his arm, the blade cool and barley touching. Stiles turned around, not wanting to look and then turned back to watch despite himself.
I ran a gentle hand down his arm in a stroking motion, my stomach churching. "It's going to be ok," I whispered. I looked into his eyes, and something was there. It almost looked like trust, but not quite.
"Just do it." I heard the saw come to life, and squinted, mentally preparing for the task at hand. I was just about to sever his arm from his body when-
"I've got it!" Scott called to us, running in. His eyes widened in horror when he saw what was in my hand. "What the hell are you doing?"
I didn't answer him. "Where is it?" I asked, holding my hand out to take it. Scott pulled out a little bullet from his pocket which I swiped.
That's when he fell.
"DEREK!" I screamed.
I was suddenly a child again, stuck inside a memory...
Laura was by my side instantly, rubbing my back and whispering sweetly and I huffed from the nightmare.
Derek, the one I'd been screaming for in my sleep rushed to out room.
He gave me one look and the teen boy I admired so much came and sat by me. "I've got this," he told his sister. Laura nodded and kissed my head before heading back to her room.
I wrapped my arms around the boy and held him close, as if I let go, he would disappear. He held me back and let my burry my face in his neck, tears wetting his shirt.
"Derek, I'm sorry. I had a bad dream."
"Do you want to talked to me about it?" he asked, holding on to me.
"It was stupid. It was dark out and we were in the woods in the night. It was dark and we were just sitting there on the grass. We got separated for some reason, and a hunter came."
"Did you see who the hunter was?"
I had. It was the same one who killed Mommy and Daddy. But I couldn't tell him that. So I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
"Then, the hunter hurt you. I don't know what they did to you, but you kept calling for me and I couldn't find you. When I finally did find you, you were on your knees and you saw me. You called me one more time, and then fell over. . . and you were dead. . ."
I tried, but I couldn't stop trembling. I knew it was a dream and I was being silly, but it had seemed so...
"Look at me," he said, cupping my face so that I'd look into his eyes. "I will always be around. Nothing can stop me from getting to you. Nothing is going to happen to me. I will always be around."
I beamed at him, his fingers wiping away a stray tear. I was so lucky to have Derek Hale care about me. He was so kind and nice and I knew he would never let anything happen to me and...
I snapped out of it when Stiles punched Derek and the werewolf woke back up. I ripped open the bullet and spilled the poison content onto the counter before lighting it on fire. I let it burn before bring it to Derek.
"He has to be awake for it to heal, even though it would be better if he was out. This is going to hurt," I explained, putting the substance into the hole on his arm.
His face contorted in pain and I felt for him as he screamed and writhed on the floor. His muscles contracted and his back arched from the ground in the agony. I knew that pain. It was probably one of the worst I've ever experienced, and that's coming from a girl who's been tortured for six years.
His arm healed though and he was back on his feet.
"That. Was. AWESOME!" Stiles yelled loudly. Scott looked at him like he was crazy, and Derek glared.
"Are you ok?" Scott asked, seaming to actually care.
"Except for the agonizing pain," Derek grumbled.
"I guess the ability to use sarcasm wasn't effected." Stiles shot his mouth off. This time, I glared, and he shut up.
"Look, we saved your life, so leave Stiles and I alone. If you don't, I'll tell Allison's dad about you."
"You think you can trust them?" I asked, my voice holding venom more deadly than the wolfsbane. If looks could kill, Scott would be a dead wolf.
"They're a lot nicer than he is!" Scott spat, referring to Derek. I felt my blood start to boil.
"Yeah? I can show you exactly how nice they are," Derek said with hate.
"What do you mean?" I asked. What could he show the boy to let him figure it all out?
Derek smiled almost sadly, "You've been gone way too long."