A/N: Fuck. I failed at "Moonday" already. :c I didn't realize I hadn't updated until around 11PM last night, but I was so tired by then. My life has been revolving around school lately, and with the school year coming to an end, I need to get my C- in AP Stats up, or else I'll have to tell my college (which I have decided on UC Davis!). D: My grades are PERFECT, my lowest is a 94%, but then add in stupid math and I have a dumb joykill. Guys. Whoever says senior year is easy, it's not. It's not at all.

But on the plus side, this chapter is one of my favorites, mainly because it's my favorite episode from Teen Wolf. ;)

FRIDAY
JANUARY 28, 2011

I let out a heavy sigh, fixing the bag on my shoulder. I spun the combination of my lock before opening my locker. I slipped my textbooks back into their places before grabbing my math book.

I closed my locker before walking down the hallway, turning down the corner. I pursed my lips and frowned, remembering what Scott had told us about seeing Allison's dad with a woman last night. Scott was with Derek last night, trying to track down the Alpha, but they quickly lost its tracks, so Scott went home.

My frown deepened as I realized that I hadn't seen Derek since Tuesday night, right after he drove me home after fighting Scott.

I turned down the corner just in time to hear a small slam, making my head shoot up from my thoughts. My eyes widened as I spotted someone, decked in black, pinning Jackson to the lockers.

Seeing the black jacket, I recognized who it was immediately. "Derek?" I asked quietly, so low I barely heard myself. He was looking down at this hands, for what, I couldn't tell because I was too far away.

That seemed to snap the werewolf out of whatever daze he had. He strode towards me quickly, grabbing my wrist tightly and pulling me away. My eyes widened when he pinned me between the wall and his body. I felt his harsh, deep breaths hit the top of my head, blowing some of my strands.

The heat rose to my face, and I stuttered out, "Uh-h-ma-guh-wh…" I swallowed thickly before asking, "Wh-what are you doing here?"

Derek's panting didn't cease as he struggled out, "Where's Scott?"

"Still in Spanish with Stiles…" I mumbled out. I looked up and saw his angular jaw. It was a lot paler than usual, and since he was cleanly shaven, I could see the sweat beading down his cheeks to his chin. I watched as a drop fell from his chin, falling to the ground.

Immediately, I straightened. "You okay?"

"I…" Derek panted out, "I need to see him."

The bell suddenly rang, and my knees almost gave away when Derek groaned in pain, leaning against me to not fall.

When the bell ceased, Derek stood up again. He was still breathing heavily, but I could tell he was just trying to hide his pain.

"He'll be out in the front," I told Derek. "He's-"

"Supposed to go to the Argent's house after school," Derek finished for me. "I heard."

I blinked, looking around to find Allison, only to see her nowhere in sight. Whoa. Werewolf hearing was pretty cool.

"C'mon, let's get to the front," I said. "Put your arm around my shoulders." Derek gave me an, 'Are you serious?' deadpan in response. I huffed. "I can see that you're about two minutes from dropping to the ground. It'll be a lot easier to drag you when you've got at least one limb around me as opposed to none." Then I paused. "Wait… that's…" I sighed loudly. "Nevermind. Just do it."

Derek snorted in response and stepped back, unpinning me to the wall. He reluctantly swung an arm over my shoulder, and I dragged him to the front of the school. Man, he was a good ten or so inches taller than me, and probably weighed maybe seventy pounds more than me. He was heavy, okay?

I stumbled out of the school, giving the guy that held the door open for me a small smile. He looked at me strangely, but thankfully didn't comment.

I spotted Stiles' powder blue jeep, with him in the driver's seat, fingers tapping on the steering wheel impatiently. I could see him dig into his pocket, pulling out his phone. His fingers tapped over the screen before placing it to his ear. A couple seconds later, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket.

Without even bothering to pick it up, I dragged Derek over to the jeep. Stiles didn't even notice me, and I couldn't stop as Derek extricated himself from me, collapsing on the front of Stiles's jeep.

My brother jumped, yelling out, "OH MY GOD!" in the process. He looked forward, making eye contact with me before at the body slumped over his jeep. "OH MY GOD!" he cried again before stumbling out of the car.

He looked at me and disbelief and began to form incoherent sounds before mumbling "You've gotta be kidding me. This guy's everywhere…" He then turned to me and demanded, "What the hell did you do to him?!"

"Shut up!" I shushed, trying to avoid the attention we were gathering. "And I didn't do anything. Where's Scott?"

"What the hell is going on?" Scott demanded, walking over to where we were. He looked down at Derek's slumped body before turning to me accusingly, "What the hell did you do to him?"

"What makes you think I did anything?" I retorted. "Like I could do anything to him." I pointed at Derek's slumped body.

"Huh, she actually has a point," Stiles realized. I shot him a look that read, 'You think?' He simply shrugged in response.

Scott reached forward, turning Derek's body over. I saw the older werewolf grit his teeth in pain before exhaling deeply. I reached forward, placing a hand over one of Derek's sweaty ones. He took slow, labored breaths, before I felt a strong grip around my hand.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Scott asked, looking at Derek.

"I was shot…" Derek panted out.

"He's not looking so good, dude," Stiles piqued. I shot him another look. Did he really need to point out the obvious?

"Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked, looking at the werewolf in slight concern.

"I can't," Derek shook his head. "It was… it was a different kind of bullet."

Stiles asked, "A silver bullet?"

Since Derek had told me silver didn't affect werewolves, I realized it was a stupid question. Derek shot a look to Stiles. "No, you idiot."

"Wait," Scott realized. "That's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours."

"What?" Derek looked at Scott with slight confusion. "Who… who said forty-eight hours?"

"The one who shot you," Scott replied. Derek recoiled suddenly and his eyes flashed an icy blue. He blinked multiple times, willing his wolf away, and his eyes flickering from green to blue. "What are you doing? Stop that!"

"I'm trying to tell you, I can't," Derek growled lowly, his eyes flickering colors. We were attracting a bit too much attention.

"We need to get out of here," I mumbled, and the guys nodded in agreement. I climbed into the car first, getting into the backseat while Scott and Stiles pulled Derek into the passenger seat.

"I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used," Derek said to Scott.

Scott looked at Derek in confusion. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"Because she's an Argent," Derek referred to whom I had no doubt was Allison. "She's with them."

"Why should I help you?" Scott retorted.

I could see the impatience creep into Derek's tone. "Because you need me."

"Fine," Scott relented. "I'll try." He turned to Stiles and said, "Hey, get him out of here."

Stiles groaned, but started the engine. "I hate you for this so much." He backed out of the parking space, leaving the crowd of teenagers behind.

Stiles turned out of the parking lot, and I pulled out a packet of tissues that I carried around from my bag. Derek panted heavily as I moved to wipe his forehead, getting rid of the sweatdrops that had built up there.

"Call Scott," Stiles ordered me, his eyes darting over to my hands, which were taking care of Derek as best as they could. Whoa, there. I meant "taking care" as in, his bullets of sweat. "Why the hell are you turning red?"

Derek angled his head so he would meet my eyes, but I darted back into the seat, pulling out my phone and quickly calling Scott, who was number three on my speed dial. The first was Stiles and the second was my dad.

I held it to my ear and it rang and rang and rang… "He's not answering," I frowned, my eyebrows coming together.

"He's probably making out with Allison," Stiles grumbled, pulling out his own phone. He held it to his ear, but let out a frustrated sigh before sending him an angry text.

He glowered at Derek, who was taking off his black leather jacket. Stiles continued to scowl until he picked up his phone. "'Need more time'!" Stiles exclaimed, throwing his free hand in the air. "Are they gonna sex it up before he finds the bullet or something?!"

The image of Scott and Allison rolling around in a bed filled my thoughts and my frown got deeper. I so did not need that disgusting visual. I voiced that opinion out loud, but Stiles just huffed angrily.

"Try not to bleed out on my seats, okay?" Stiles demanded, turning down the road and further into the woods. "We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Derek asked, slightly out of breath.

Stiles sighed heavily. "Your house," he replied in a matter-of-factly tone.

Derek's head shot up and he glanced at my brother. "What?" he asked for clarification. "No. You can't take me there."

"I can't take you to your own house!" Stiles exclaimed in disbelief.

"Not while I can't protect myself," Derek shook his head.

"He's right, Stiles," I quipped. Stiles shot me a venomous look before reaching to shift gears and then pulled up to a curb.

"Can you just… not?" Stiles asked me. "It's bad enough that the first guy that you've probably shown interest in can kill you and he's literally dying right now!" I smacked his head. "Ow!"

Derek tossed me an unreadable look, but I didn't want to meet his eyes. Not while he was dying and not with my brother around. I swear, it was his (my brother's) life mission to somehow mortify me.

Stiles turned to Derek, giving up on trying to "reason" with me. "Alright, what happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet, hmm? Are you dying?"

"Not yet," Derek panted out. "I have a last resort."

Stiles didn't take that news too well. "What do you mean? What last resort?!"

Derek lifted up his left sleeve, and I cringed when I saw the bloodied wound with a massive hole the side of two of my fingers embedded in his arm. It even made a weird squishy sound.

"Oh, my, God," Stiles cringed, turning away from the scene. "What is that?" He gagged a little bit. "Oh, is that contagious? "Y'know what? You should probably just get out."

"Start the car," Derek ignored Stiles's comment. "Now."

Stiles blinked in disbelief. "I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead!" He boldly looked at Derek.

The werewolf simply turned to Stiles and said, "Start the car… or I'm gonna rip your throat out… with my teeth."

It was silent for a couple of seconds before Stiles looked away and started his car and drove away, mumbling about "stupid werewolves" and "fucking bullets." I think I even heard a "stupid sister that loves murderers," too. What the hell?

"Stiles," I growled lowly. "Just drive."

"Fine, fine," my brother grumbled, turning the steering wheel. "Any brilliant ideas on where are destination is?"

"No," I shook my head. "Just drive until we figure something out."

For hours, we came up with random ideas, which were quickly shot down by either Derek or me. The sun had fully set and it was nighttime now, and there was still no answer from Scott. I sent him an angry text.

Sindy Stilinski: Dammit, Scott. Hurry up.

I locked my phone angrily and huffed, crossing my arms.

Stiles had been driving around town in circles for hours, not sure of where to go. We couldn't really take him back to our house.

I placed my hand on Derek's shoulder, asking, "How are you doing?"

"Manageable," he grunted out.

Stiles's phone began to ring, echoing loudly. My brother fumbled with his phone for a few seconds before turning on the speaker, answering the phone, "What am I supposed to do with him?" he demanded.

"Take him somewhere," Scott's frantic voice replied. "Anywhere."

Stiles huffed a sigh. "And by the way, he's starting to smell." I glowered at him and whacked the back of his head. "Ow! It's true!"

"Like-like what?"

"Like death," Stiles hissed. I frowned as Stiles whipped around to look at me. "And you know it's true, don't deny it, Sindy."

Derek glowered at my brother.

"Take him to the animal clinic," Scott suggested.

"… What about your boss?" I blinked, confused.

"He's gone by now," Scott replied. "You know where the spare key is, Sindy. In the box behind the dumpster."

Stiles sighed heavily. You didn't often see Stiles stressed, but in this past month, Stiles has been on edge because of this whole "my best friend's a werewolf" ordeal. He handed Derek the phone, "This is unbelievable."

"Did you find it?" Derek demanded, taking the phone.

"How am I supposed to find one bullet? They have a million! This how is like… like the fricken' Walmart of guns!"

"Look, if you don't find it, then I'm dead, alright?" Derek bluntly pointed out.

"I'm starting to think that wouldn't be such a bad thing."

"Scott…" I growled. "Just find the damn bullet."

"Then think about this: The Alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time, you either kill him, or get killed. So if you want yourself, your little girlfriend, your stupid best friend, or Sindy to stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet." Without any further ado, Derek hung up, tossing the phone back at Stiles.

"How come I'm called the stupid best friend and Sindy is referred to by her name?" Stiles demanded, turning to look at Derek.

"Because she's the only one worth acknowledging," Derek retorted. He glanced back at me and my eyes met his. Against my will, my heart began to pound and I looked away, but not before noticing the smirk that crept onto Derek's face.

"Dude, can you not hit on my sister?" Stiles asked, looking from Derek to me and then back to Derek. "You're like, dying, and you're still hitting on her?"

Derek glared at Stiles. "I'm not hitting on her. Now drive."

Stiles took a glance back at me. "Just so you know, I don't approve of this."

"There is no this," Derek and I said at the same time, much to my surprise. "Now drive."

"Okay, okay, jeez," Stiles grumbled, turning on the engine. He pressed on the gas lightly, and I felt the car move as he drove us to the animal clinic Scott worked at.

Once the car came to a stop, I scrambled out of the car, hurrying to get the spare key. I grabbed the key in the box before running back to the entrance, opening the door. Stiles lifted up the metal door, and Derek stumbled in before collapsing on a chair.

Stiles's phone chimed with a text when I sat down next to Derek. I brushed pulled down the sleeve of my jacket to wipe away some of the sweat that had gather around his forehead.

"Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Stiles asked, turning around.

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane," Derek told us. "He has to bring me the bullet."

"Why?" Stiles asked.

Derek huffed out a deep breath, looking up at Stiles with an 'are you stupid' gaze. "Because I'm gonna die without it."

"You're not a particularly positive person, are you?" I attempted to joke to ease the tension that had built.

That seemed to do the trick, because Derek scoffed. "Obviously."

I stood up, grabbing the arm that was uninjured. "Stiles, help me get him to the treatment room."

"Why do I get the injured arm?" Stiles grumbled. The two of us lifted Derek up and boy, was he heavy. "Oh, dude, you might wanna cut back on the fries."

We walked to the treatment room in the back, and I almost fell back in shock when Stiles suddenly let go to hit the lights. "Stiles!" I cried, stumbling from the weight. Thankfully, Derek caught himself and stayed up right.

I released Derek cautiously and he took off his shirt.

Blood rushed up to my cheeks as I took in his profile. Wow. He was heavy, but it definitely, for sure wasn't because of the fact that he ate fries. No, no, no. He was completely smooth and muscular.

Derek stumbled a bit, throwing his shirt onto a counter. I spotted the three-spiral tattoo in-between his strong shoulder blades and remembered the story behind it. I snapped out of my thoughts as he leaned against the table Deaton always used to treat animals.

"Oh my God!" Stiles exclaimed, a tone of disgust in his voice. "The guy is literally dying and you're practically eye-fucking him!"

I balled my hand into a fist and struck him in the gut. He coughed in shock, the air blown out of him. "On second thought," he wheezed out. "It doesn't look all that bad. Doesn't look anything some Echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of."

It was then I got a good look at Derek's arm and the open wound was bleeding, and the veins on his arm was completely black. I resisted the urge to hit Stiles just because.

"When the infection reaches my heart," Derek took deep breaths between his words, "it'll kill me." He turned around and began to search the shelves for something.

"'Positivity' just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles demanded.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time…" Derek pulled open a shelf. "Last resort."

"Which is…?" Stiles prompted as Derek pulled out what resembled a small saw. My face dropped and I swear my heart stuttered.

"You're gonna cut off my arm," Derek said, looking at Stiles.

"Oh, my–" Stiles stopped himself, unable to form words. "I – oh God. I need some air." He looked at me and pointed weakly at Derek, "J-just watch him, okay? I-I'm gonna call Scott." He continued to mumble to himself, leaving the room.

I frowned as Derek threw the saw on the table. "Help me find a tourniquet," he panted out.

"Wh-why don't you sit and let me look?" I suggested, placing a hand on Derek's back. I felt the slickness of his sweat and it was only then I realized just how much in pain he was. I looked up at him, concerned. "How bad is it?"

Derek paused in his actions. He looked down at me, waiting.

"On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest," I continued.

"Thirty," Derek replied simply. He pulled out a blue rubber strip, which was undoubtedly used as a tourniquet and threw it on the table.

I frowned, reaching to look at his injured arm. I took it softly, and I could feel how tense his muscles were. "I'm gonna see if there's something to make the pain less."

I turned to go look for a disinfectant or something, but a tight grip on my wrist stopped me. As I glanced down at my wrist, I saw Derek's uninjured arm shot out, gripping my wrist.

"Wait…" he panted out. My eyes followed a trail of sweat that trickled down the side of his head.

"Wh–" I started, but was interrupted. He swooped down, and my eyes widened in shock when his lips connected with my own.

I never really understood why girls in the romance novels I read always talked about toe-curling, mind-blowing kisses. I just always thought they were just contact with lips and they were just blowing it out of proportion.

In fact, I was underestimating it all.

My arms shot out and wrapped around his body, hands splaying on his slick, sweaty back. His good hand went to my nape, twisting his fingers into my brown locks, holding my head at an angle.

I leaned against him, standing on the tips of my toes in order to kiss him properly. He took my upper lip between his, and I took his bottom with my own. I nipped at his full lip and he let out a groan, his hand tightening in my hair.

All of a sudden, he let out another groan, but it was much different than the one before.

I pulled back abruptly and Derek looked down at me with hazy eyes, his breath coming out shallowly. "Derek?" I asked, taking a step back. He swayed a bit, but I caught him just in time. "Stiles!" I called, and Derek leaned against the metal table. "STILES!"

Rapid footsteps came running back in and my brother barreled through the door. "Shit," he cursed, seeing Derek's condition.

Derek grabbed the bone saw and slid it over to Stiles before taking the tourniquet and tying it tightly around his arm. Derek made eye contact with me before turning to Stiles.

"What if you bleed to death?" Stiles inquired.

"It'll heal if it works," Derek replied.

"Look," Stiles choked out. "I don't know if I can do this. Maybe Sindy sh-"

"No," Derek protested, a growl in his voice. "Why can't you do it?"

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood! Sindy's works at a hospital! Surely she can do it!"

"No," Derek stated firmly. "Are you faint at the sight of blood?"

"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm! Why are you so adamant about Sindy not doing it? She'll do a better job than me!"

Derek heaved heavily. "Because she can't," Derek said. His eyes darted over to me. "I'm not subjecting her to the sight of her cutting off my arm."

"But you will to me?" Stiles gaped.

"Obviously," Derek retorted. "How about this? Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head."

"Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats any-" my twin was cut off by Derek roughly grabbing him with his free arm, and it wasn't the kind of grabbing Derek did to me. It was rough and threatening. "Oh my God. Okay, alright, alright. Bought. Sold. Totally. I'll do it. I'll do it."

Derek looked impossibly pale and I ran over to see what was wrong, before he heaved out some black liquid from his mouth.

"Holy God, what the hell is that?!" Stiles whined.

I rubbed Derek's back, and I assumed it was werewolf blood when it was poisoned, or something along those lines. I wiped the bit of blood that was still at the corner of his lips and Derek panted out, "It's my body… trying to heal itself."

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it," Stiles commented. I looked over to my brother and saw that he was actually quite nauseous and was about to throw up himself.

"Now," Derek demanded. "You've gotta do it now." I felt his free hand entwine with my right one.

"Look, honestly, I don't think I can."

"Just do it!" Derek roared.

"Oh, God. Okay, okay." I heard the saw buzz to life. I closed my eyes and squeezed Derek's free hand tightly. "Oh my God. Alright, here we go!"

"Stiles?! Sindy?!" I heard a familiar voice call.

"Scott/Scotty?!" Stiles and I called back at the same time.

Scott came running into the room, and his eyes darted from us to Derek to the bone saw. "What the hell are you doing?!" Scott demanded.

Stiles let out a breathless laugh of relief as Derek extricated his fingers from mine. "Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares," Stiles sighed.

"Did you get it?" Derek asked Scott.

Scott dug into his pocket and pulled out a small, long, golden bullet. Derek looked at it and I asked, "What are you gonna do with it?"

"I'm gonna…" Derek panted out. "I'm gonna…" His free hand slumped back onto the table, and the bullet rolled away.

My eyes widened as I swayed as Derek fell limp in my arms, and I almost fell to the ground before Stiles grabbed me and dragged me away. Derek collapsed to the ground and Scott dived after the bullet.

Stiles and I scrambled to our feet, rushing over to Derek. Stiles grabbed the werewolf's head and began to pat his face. "Derek. Derek, come on, wake up."

"Derek?" I asked, shaking him. My heart began to pound heavily in my chest. "Derek! Wake up!"

"-not waking up!" I heard Stiles cry in panic. "I think he's dying. I think he's dead!"

"Just hold on!" Scott replied.

"How can we hold on?!" I demanded. "Derek could be dead!" I cried. I reached to feel his heartbeat, but it was only very, very faint. "His heartbeat's incredibly weak."

"Back up, Sindy," Stiles said. I did as he told me and he pulled back his arm. He gave a swift punch to Derek's face just as Scott yelled that he got the bullet.

To my relief, Derek opened his eyes and Stiles cradled his right hand in pain. Scott pushed Derek up and the older man ripped off the cap of the bullet before pouring out the wolfsbane.

"Lighter," he told me. I turned around, grabbing the lighter that was on the counter. Derek had pulled it out earlier, but I had no idea why. I handed it to him and he placed the lighter to the wolfsbane.

I pulled back in shock as the wolfsbane was set on fire and sparked angrily before fading to a light blue smoke that sizzled gently. Derek gathered up the wolfsbane before shoving it into his wound, crying out in pain when he dug his finger into the wound to force all the wolfsbane in.

I jumped back in shock when Derek collapsed to the ground, roaring out in pain. A few seconds later, the dark veins around his wound started to retract, and then his wound all but disappeared.

"That… was… AWESOME!" Stiles exclaimed. "YES!"

"Oh my God!" I cried, running to Derek. I knelt down next to him and threw my arms around him. His right arm went around my waist and I helped him up.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked.

"Well, except for the agonizing pain," Derek retorted.

"I guess the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health," Stiles commented. He was immediately shut up by a glower from Derek before the werewolf moved to take off his tourniquet.

"Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone, you got that?" Scott demanded. "And if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gonna tell him everything-"

"You're gonna trust them?" Derek asked. "You think they can help you?"

"Why not?" Scott demanded. "They're a lot freaking nicer than you are."

Derek took the challenge. "I can show you exactly how nice they are. Drive us to my house, first."

"C'mon," Stiles said, grabbing his best friend. "I wanna stop being were-grumpy's chauffeur ASAP." The two teenaged boys left the room, leaving me alone with Derek.

"What happened earlier," Derek turned to me, grabbing his shirt from the floor. "It-"

"Means nothing, right?" I cut him off. "Is this gonna be one of those clichés where the guy only kissed the girl because she was the only one there?"

Derek slid the rest of his shirt on before tugging at the bottom of it. "That isn't it," he refuted, walking over to me. He placed a hand on my cheek and I leaned into it instinctively. "What happened was… something. But what you want emotionally, I can't give to you."

"What do you mean by that?"

Derek simply placed a hand on top of my head. "Your first relationship should be with someone who can love you."

I frowned, not really understanding his words. He walked out of the room, leaving me wondering just how messed up the Argents had left him.

She-WolfMoon: Thank you! :D
rachel mccullen: Ah~ thank you! :)
Ayase Yuuki: Hah. I'm no girly-girl either. Strictly jeans and t-shirt. Not even shorts, and I don't own a single skirt. xD Ah~ thank you.
goddess of the nigth: Thank you! I love Sinrek! :D
MsRose91: Thank you!
Daenerys86: Hah. I love unintentional internal rhymes. xD
PsychoticSmartypants: YOU'RE FRICKIN AMAZING! :D
FizzWizz2011: Thank you!

A/N: Leave a review! Think we can hit 45?! Since I'm going on a DC/NY trip from Monday to Friday next week, I won't be able to update, but if I can hit 45-50 reviews, I'll update Sunday night before my trip! ;)