What do you think of Chelsea and Derek's interactions so far?
As always, read & review!
FIVE
"This is a bad idea." I whispered to no one in particular as Stiles put the Jeep in park. After a very short and cryptic phone call with Scott, we wound up heading towards the vet where he worked after school. Derek was slumped over Stiles's shoulder, the boy's knees buckling from the extra weight. "I really think we need to get him to a hospital."
"No hospital." Derek groaned as Stiles practically dropped him onto a pile of dog food bags. I could see the pain darkening the features of his face.
"This is in-fucking-sane. Stiles if he dies, we go to jail, do you realize that?" He ignored me and continued searching for the light switch. "That's it, we're going to the damn hospital." I grabbed for Derek's good arm in an attempt to haul him back to his feet. In a flash, his fingers wrapped around my wrist, nails digging into my flesh.
"Get away from me." He growled in a voice so low I felt the vibration through his hand. When he looked at me I swear I saw his eyes flash a brilliant blue. But my mind didn't let me think about it. No, my mind was too busy remembering the last time someone had grabbed me like this.
I ripped my arm away and jumped back a few steps. A breath was caught in my lungs, preventing fresh air from reaching them. Suddenly, it wasn't this dying man in front of me, it was him. Dark hair turned to blonde, pale skin turned to tanned. Derek slowly morphed into Dylan, and although his hand was no longer on my arm, my skin burned where he had made contact.
This type of flashback used to happen often a few months ago. Thankfully this wasn't as severe as some of the others. It had been a while since I experienced one, but I suspected that the last encounter with my ex in the parking lot of the diner had provoked a new wave of PTSD symptoms. Thankfully, I still knew how to ground myself.
My eyes scanned the room around me, searching for a blue object. Any blue object that could tie me to this moment. This building. This room.
A stethoscope hung from the coat rack, it's dark blue tubes calling my attention.
One.
A blue pen on the desk.
Two.
The dog's blue collar in the poster beside the door.
Three.
I don't know why I had chosen blue for my color. It had been my favorite growing up, one that always brought me a sense of safety .Back in the day I would have gone to five, sometimes seven. But today, three did the trick. I looked back at Derek. His eyes had been blue. I know I hadn't imagined that.
Four.
"Fine." I forced my voice not to shake. "You want to die here, be my guest." I turned away from him, unable to look at his pain riddled expression. "And you," I spoke to Stiles. "I hope your dad can't save you this time."
I left. My legs were shaking from the adrenaline and my heart still raced from Derek's vice grip on my wrist. But those things subsided the moment I stepped out into the chilly night air.
Until, I remembered that I didn't drive here. And I didn't have a phone to call someone.
"Fuck." I groaned. There was nothing I could do besides walk, or wait on the curb for a car to go by and hope that they'd pick up a hitchhiker. Fat chance.
But just as I took my first steps down the freshly paved road, Scott came barreling towards me on his bike.
"Where are they?" He shouted, not even questioning why I was there. I led the way back into the exam room. That's where we found Stiles holding a saw just above Derek's bicep.
Derek leaned over the exam table. No, more like leaned ON the table. He couldn't hold himself up anymore. His shirt was gone, leaving me to stare at his bare back and the large spiral design permanently etched into his smooth skin.
"What are you doing?!" Scott cried. Stiles dropped the saw immediately.
"You just prevented a lifetime of nightmares." The boy sighed in relief.
"Did you get it?" Derek asked. His voice sounded drawn out and weak.
"Yeah." Scott dug into his pockets. To my absolute horror, a tiny bullet fell out, clanging as it hit the metal surface. Derek picked it up to inspect it. I watched from the door as he started to speak but his words never came. His body went slack and he crumbled to the floor in a lifeless heap.
Did I just watch a man die?
Scott went flying after the dropped bullet that had scattered across the tiles and Stiles all but launched himself towards Derek. I did the same.
"Please don't be dead." I whispered as I tilted his face towards us. His skin was cold and clammy beneath my fingers. If he died, we would all pay the price.
"Scott, what are we gonna do?!" Stiles called from behind me. My brother shouted something back, but the sound of my blood pumping through my veins was the only thing I was able to hear now. I shook the man's shoulders hoping maybe I could wake him up, but nothing. Beside me, Stiles mumbled something, cocked back his arm and landed a pretty shitty punch to Derek's cheek. He was left cradling his fist, but it worked.
Derek jumped up and once again stood at the table. From behind him, I didn't have a great view at whatever he was doing. But after a few seconds he started to howl in pain. He fell back, knocking me over in the process. I landed hard on my ass and shuffled away from his writhing body. His back arched off the tiled floor and every muscle in his body tensed as another scream of pain rattled through his chest. But this scream, it didn't sound human. It wasn't human.
I swore I heard him growl. Like an actual, animalistic growl.
Then the hole in his arm… disappeared. Those snaking black lines receded, the redness around the wound soaked back into his skin, the hole closed.
It fucking closed.
I stared at his arm, my breaths coming fast, too fast to be useful. I felt like I wasn't breathing at all.
This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
"That. Was. Awesome!" Stiles cheered. "Yes!"
"Are you okay?" Scott asked, as if what just happened was perfectly normal. As if Derek had simply tripped over his own two feet and took a hard fall. The man pulled himself up into a seated position.
"Well, except for the agonizing pain." Derek sneered before his eyes slid over to me. I knew my mouth was hanging open and it seemed like the only movement that my body would allow was for my eyes to shift between his own eyes and his completely uninjured arm.
What was I supposed to say? My mind couldn't form a coherent thought.
"Chels." My brother said my name as if he had forgotten I was there.
"Uh, Derek here has like gigantic allergic reactions to… uh peanut butter." Stiles was rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to feed me some bullshit explanation.
"She saw my eyes." Derek looked from me to my brother. "I couldn't help it."
I shuffled myself away from all three of them until I could pull myself up with the help of the door handle. Scott rushed to my side and tried to help me stand.
"Don't touch me." I flung his hand off my shoulder. One by one, I gave them each a long hard look, saving my baby brother for last. "What the hell have you gotten yourself into."
Two weeks had gone by since that night, but nightmares of Derek's grotesque arm and his shining blue eyes still haunt me. Add that to the long list of recurring nightmares that plagued my sleep. Though I hadn't physically seen Derek since then, I see him in my dreams. Sometimes, it's just human Derek. Others, it's him in what I imagined to be his wolf form, ripping out my throat.
Sometimes it's not Derek at all.
Sometimes, it's my brother.
I'd hardly seen Stiles or Scott either, except when I pass them in the halls of our home or have them in class.
Being a substitute teacher was a piece of cake. Mom had been right, as long as no one gets severely injured on my watch, they don't care. And I have to admit, it was nice having a job where you weren't being groped by drunk college kids or 50 year old truckers each night. I had hated being a waitress at those old run down diners, but it was one of the few jobs that I could get easily with no experience and no real address. I'd had to keep my cool and suffer through the roaming hands and crude remarks if I wanted to keep my tips up. As a sub, I was making a flat $90 per day, and no one sexually harassed me. What more could I ask for?
It had been fun to see the look on my old teachers' faces when they saw me again. Most probably wanted to run and scream. I hadn't been the best student. My grades weren't awful… I mean, I passed. But I know I'd been a terror to have in class. Attitude, smart ass remarks, always challenging authority and rules. I'd had an assigned seat in detention because I was there so often.
The only teacher that was even remotely happy to see me was Finstock. And I suspect that's only because when he'd caught me lighting up on school grounds junior year, he joined me rather than turn me in. Two fucked up people make for one fun and twisted friendship.
"Chelsea!" I was pulled from my high school memories by my brother's voice. I hadn't spoken to him much in the past few weeks. I didn't quite know what to say. Hey Scott, you're a werewolf? That's cool? Or Hey there bro, I picked up a bone for you to chew on today.
What exactly is the correct way to take in information like this? What's the right way to feel when you find out that the monsters in the scary movies you watched as a kid are actually real? And better yet, how do you react when your BROTHER is one of them?
I didn't know. So I settled for avoiding him at all costs.
He had seemed content to let me do that, until today. I turned to find him jogging towards me from the other end of the hallway. It was the middle of 4th period, which happened to be Mrs. Greene's (that's who I was today) off period, so the halls were empty.
"Why aren't you in class?" I raised my eyebrows as he slowed his pace.
"I was on my way to the bathroom." he shot me that adorable Scott-like smile. It was hard for me not to return it. "Listen, I just…" he paused and took a deep breath. "I just want to make sure you're okay." I rolled my eyes, a witty reply ready on my tongue. But he kept going. "I know it's a lot. And I know you already have enough to deal with, but… I don't want you to hate me."
"Scott," I whispered, my heart shattering inside my chest. "I could never hate you. You're my baby brother. You're annoying sometimes, and you smell like a dirty gym bag most times. But you're my brother." I was shaking my head. How could he even think that I hated him. Looking back on the last two weeks, hell, the last few years, I understood why. I hadn't called. I rarely visited. I didn't even know his birthday. Of course it seemed like I didn't care, like I couldn't be bothered to love him or mom. But I did.
"You didn't choose this. I understand that." I looked over my shoulder to make sure we were still alone. "If there's anyone I hate, it's Derek. He's the one who did this to you."
"No, he's not." Scott shook his head, shaggy hair shifting from the momentum. "I guess I have a lot to catch you up on, huh?" He tried to smile again, but it looked strained. The bell rang before he was able to fill me in on anything. "Just, be careful." He said as a goodbye. Soon enough, we were both swept away by the current of students.
Be careful? What does that mean? Suddenly, I wondered if Scott knew something about the recent string of animal attacks… or maybe murders was a better word. I spent the rest of the day barely getting through attendance, my mind swirling with thoughts of my brother taking a life. I'd been so consumed with it that it wasn't until after dinner when I realized I'd left my new phone in the last period classroom.
I cursed myself all the way back to the school. Mom was working another night shift and Scott was, I don't know, out hunting for bunnies? What do teenage werewolves even do?
When I pulled into the parking lot I was surprised to find that I wasn't the only car. A sleek black sports car was in one of the front spots, parked directly next to a familiar blue jeep.
"Of course." I rolled my eyes. What the hell would Stiles be doing at the school this late? And wherever Stiles went, Scott inevitably followed. Their codependency was truly concerning. I hopped out of the car, my old run down Toyota looking like a hunk of shit compared to the nice expensive looking sports car. The front door of the school was hanging wide open, hinting that Scott and Stiles were probably inside.
But then who was the person standing between the jeep and sports car? My gut told me who it was before I had to see his face. It was the way he stood, the way he carried his body, that gave him away. His back was too me, clad in leather that I swore I could smell from this far away. The last time I had seen his back, it had been bare and he had been dying. I pushed the image away.
I considered walking towards him, calling his name. But there was something about him that frightened me. Though I'd never let him see that. I thought of his back again and the muscles I had watched ripple with each movement. The way his stomach had curled and hardened while he writhed on the floor of the vet's office. His strength was undeniable. Maybe that's what scared me. But maybe it was the way he spoke. The way his voice demanded obedience. The way his threats dove straight into your veins, gripping you with panic and urgency. Maybe it was knowing that he could literally kill me with one hard swipe of his claws.
Whatever it was that drove my fear, I knew myself well enough to listen to it. So I side-stepped towards the sidewalk. Perhaps he wouldn't see me sneak by in the darkness.
"What are you doing here?" his voice momentarily paralyzed me. Of course he knew you were here, Chelsea, I chided myself. He's a fucking werewolf.
"Well," I put on a brave face. "I was here to get my phone. But now, it looks like I'm here to find out what kind of trouble you've roped my brother into this time." I said it loud enough for him to hear without having to move closer. But Derek had other plans. He moved forward, and I hated myself for the slight step I took back. So much for not letting him see that you're afraid, dumb ass.
My eyes shifted towards his car momentarily, drawn to the back passenger seat by some slight motion. I couldn't tell who it was from this far away. Was it another wolf? Another one of his pack members?
"You should leave." The low grumble in his throat had me considering the order. Maybe I should just run back to my car, jump in and drive far away from him.
"Where is he?" I surprised even myself by standing my ground.
As if answering my question, a high pitched whining noise blew through the school's loud system. I cupped my hands over my ears trying to save my brain for the ungodly sound.
"You've got to be kidding me."