This chapter is a bit short, but it was originally supposed to be part of a much larger scene. I decided to leave it on it's own because I think the interaction between Chelsea and Derek deserved it's own piece! Let me know what you think!

And as always, thanks for all of the support!

ELEVEN

"Hold her up!" Derek ordered Stiles while he carried a still seizing Erica into an old train car. I was too busy watching the girl to care that we were in a dirty abandoned subway station.

"Is she dying?" Stiles asked. He had taken position behind Erica, holding her head and shoulders up off the floor. I crouched beside him, helping to adjust her body.

"She might." Derek sounded out of breath and nervous, a strange combination that did not match the sight of the man. "Which is why this is gonna hurt." he said just before breaking her forearm with a sickening crack. Erica erupted in a pained scream and I flinched back at the sound.

"You broke her arm!" Stiles accused angrily as he struggled to keep her in place.

"It'll trigger the healing process." Derek explained. My brother covered his mouth, and I'm sure I wore a similar freaked out expression as he did. "I still gotta get the venom out." He pursed his lips. "This is where it's really gonna hurt."

I watched in horror as he started digging his claws into her forearm, squeezing until blood began to ooze out between his fingers. His hands continued to apply pressure and twist her skin as more and more blood poured onto the train's floor.

"You have to stop!" I cried when I saw her body go limp. I tried to reach past Stiles and push Derek away from the girl, sure he was killing her. His head snapped up, eyes glowing a brilliant shade of red and a low guttural growl broke through his throat. Red was wrong. His eyes were supposed to be blue. That shining, stunning, heart stopping shade of blue.

My movements stilled.

God, he was a terrifying man.

"Derek." Scott's voice pulled the older man's attention away from me, as if that had been my brother's plan. My eyes fell back to Erica, who I was relieved to see was breathing. My brother and Derek both stood and walked out of the train. I stayed to help Stiles lay Erica in a more comfortable spot, making sure she had some type of pillow in case she had another seizure. I shrugged out of my jacket and balled it up under her head. Once I was content with her space, my feet began to march after Scott and Derek.

"We do it my way." Scott was saying as I walked up.

"What is wrong with you?" I sneered. Scott must have seen the rage in my eyes because he stepped in my path, stopping me from ramming right into Derek. "You did this to her. You put her in this situation." My voice was growing louder with each word.

"Jackson did this to her." His calm demeanor irritated me. He leaned his body back so he was nearly sitting on the table behind him while he cleaned the rest of Erica's blood from his hands. An old, already dirty rag, ran along each of his long fingers, whipping away the last remnants of the dark liquid. "I didn't…"

"You turned her into this!" I pushed Scott aside. "You pulled her into this world, just like you pulled Scott in."

"Chels…" Scott warned, pulling on the back of my shirt. Was he afraid I would hit Derek? I was angry, not stupid. I was furious, but I still recalled the deadly red glow I'd witnessed only minutes before.

"She wanted this." Derek pushed himself off the table. Standing close and at full height, I was reminded of how much he towered over me, of how big he truly was. "Her life was Hell before I turned her."

"As opposed to the fucking party it is now?" I countered with a scoff. The anger inside me overpowered whatever fear still lingered there. "She's a child! Her and Issac are children! How…"

"Children? Issac has survived more than most adults. They're stronger. Faster. Better." he took a step forward with each word, which I matched with one backwards. Scott pulled on my arm and stepped between us again. "Tell me," Derek went on over my brother's shoulder. "If I told you that in ten seconds, I could make you stronger than anyone around you, that you could protect yourself, that you could stop running from whoever the hell is chasing you, would you say no?" His words pierced through me, cementing me in place.

"I…" I trailed off, caught by surprise at the question. I had hoped that what my mother had let slip that day he was hiding in our bathroom would have gone unnoticed. That he'd been so weak and focused on not being discovered, that our conversation would have floated right over his head. Given the triumphant smirk on his lips, I was wrong.

"That first night you came home, the night you barged into Scott's room, I smelled the blood on you." He pushed Scott aside and continued his advance. I wondered briefly why my brother didn't try to stop him, but then it hit me. He wanted to hear my response too. Since coming home, I'd offered him no explanation of why I had suddenly returned to Beacon Hills. Derek stalked closer, forcing me further and further until my back was against the cool metal of the train car. "The blood, the cuts and bruises. The near panic attacks, flashbacks. You're not as good at hiding it as you think."

"You think you know anything about me?" I challenged, feeling desperate for this conversation to stop. "Do you think I owe you something? Do you think I owe something to the grown ass adult ruining teenager's lives?"

"I think you owe Scott answers." he replied bluntly. My eyes flicked to my brother standing behind him. "You know we can smell it right?" Derek took one more step towards me, leaving no more than an inch between our chests. I was overwhelmed with the need to move away, to put distance between us. But there was nowhere for me to go. Something I was sure he did on purpose. "We can smell fear. It rolls off of you in waves."

"Step back." I growled, letting the anger slowly take over. He was doing this on purpose. He was trying to get a rise out of me. And my brother was letting him.

"Something turned you into a skittish little puppy. Don't you think your family deserves to know who's living in their house?"

His words were sharp, like knives pinning against my chest.

The anger that had been bubbling inside me came to a rapid boil. I don't remember making the conscious decision to strike him, but nevertheless, it happened. My fingers curled in on their own accord, creating a solid fist. Next thing I know, that fist was connecting with his jaw.

"Chelsea!" Scott seemed to have woken up and finally used his body as a buffer between Derek and myself. "Stop! Everyone just stop." He was shouting, but his eyes were on Derek, not me.

"I guess even puppies have claws." Derek flashed a malicious grin while he rubbed at his jawline, which had me lunging forward again.

"Shut up!" Scott yelled at the older man while he ushered me back onto the train. Inside, Stiles still sat loyally beside the unconscious blonde. I stared at him while concentrating on controlling my wild breaths.

"Well, that was awesome." His buzzed head gave a quirky little jerk as he smiled up at me. He must have heard the punch. I couldn't help but smile back. It wasn't the first time I've thrown a punch, but it was the first time I've defended myself in quite some time. It gave me the same rush I'd felt after speaking to the Sheriff.

I was beginning to feel…like me.