Stiles pulled up behind the clinic to the garage. Stiles and Sam quickly piled out of the jeep. She opened the passenger side door. "Go get the key.", she told him before grabbing onto Derek. "C'mere, big guy.", she says, pulling him out of the jeep. Derek looked like he was ready to pass out. He tried his best not to lean his entire body on her, but he was beginning to get so tired. His life was on the line, he had to stay alive. He needed to know who the alpha was.
He didn't wanna rely on these two, but he didn't have much of a choice now. He could barely walk.
Sam quickly helped him to the door. Stiles came back with the key and unlocked the padlock on the garage door and hoisted the door up with a rattle.
Derek winced as dogs began to bark inside. Sam walked him into the garage as Stiles turned on the dim light. She gently lowered Derek onto a pile of bagged dog food and crouched down to him, taking her sleeve and wiping his face with it. He looked ghostly now, and it worried her. He was dying...dying too fast. They weren't even in a proper place to get him help.
Stiles' phone rang and he quickly pulled it out of his pocket, looking at a text message.
"Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?", Stiles asked, reading the text. "It's kinda a wolf's bait.", Derek rasped. "A rare form." Derek's breathing got more ragged. "He has to bring me the bullet."
"Why?", Stiles asked.
"It's like an antidote, Stiles.", Sam said. "Come on, let's get him inside." Sam grunted as she lifted Derek back up and Stiles unlocked the door.
She walked Derek to the back room and he began to walk on his own. He hurriedly took off his shirt and tossed it aside in frustration. Scott was taking too long to find this bullet. He started rummaging around the drawers as Sam stared at his back.
She noticed three spirals were tattooed onto his upper back, all connected. Could it have been a pack thing?
She glanced at his left arm to see blackened blood oozing out from the bullet hole and black cracks of his veins went up and down his arm as he turned to the table in front of the teens. Derek swallowed and gulped as much air as he could take at this point. They couldn't wait around.
"You know," Stiles started. "That really doesn't look like anything some Echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn't take care of."
Sam looked at him in disbelief, placing her hands on her hips. "He's literally poisoned."
"If the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me.", Derek rasped.
"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?", Stiles asked sarcastically. "You're not helping.", Sam told Stiles, looking around for a tourniquet. Derek went over to the drawers under the counter and began to rummage through once more.
"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time, last resort.", Derek says.
"Which is?", Stiles and Sam asked. Derek turned around and had a bonesaw in his hands.
"You're gonna cut off my arm.", Derek slid the saw across the table to Stiles and Stiles picked it up.
"Huh?", Sam's eyes bounced at him and the saw. "What type of resort is that!?"
"It's my last one. I'll live… but...", he panted.
"I don't think I can do this.", Stiles said.
"Why not?", Derek growled at him.
"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing through the bone, and especially the blood.", Stiles expressed.
"You faint at the sight of blood?", Derek asked, incrediously.
"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm.", Stiles exclaimed.
"All right, fine, how about this? Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head.", Derek threatened weakly.
"Ok, you know what, I'm so not buying your threats any-" Stiles couldn't finish his sentence because Derek reached over and snatched the collar of Stiles' shirt. "Oh my god. Ok, ok. Bought, sold, whatever."
Derek began to heave, making Stiles frown. "What? What are you-"
Derek turned his head over the table, gagging black ooze that spilled from his mouth. "Holy god, what the hell is that?", Stiles whined.
"It's my body trying to heal itself.", Derek said, laying his upper body on the table.
"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it."
"Now, you have to do it now.", Derek rasped, looking up at Stiles.
"Look, honestly, I don't think I can do it."
"Just do it!", Derek yelled. Sam covered her eyes as Stiles revved up the saw.
"Stiles? Sam?", Scott called from the other room.
"Scott?"
Sam ran over to the door only to be stopped by him. Scott appeared in the room and looked at the saw to Stiles and to Derek and back again.
"What the hell are you doing!?", Scott exclaimed in shock.
Stiles chuckled and set down the saw. "Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares."
"Did you get it?", Derek asked, weakly. He straightened up as Scott handed him a long, gold bullet.
"What're you gonna to do with it?", Sam asked.
"I'm gonna- I'm-" Derek's eyes suddenly fluttered closed as he collapsed to the ground. "Derek!", Sam exclaimed, kneeling down to his level.
As Derek fell to the ground, he dropped the bullet and it rolled into a drain. "Shit!", Sam exclaimed then looked back over at Derek. She leaned her ear on his chest, hearing a faint heartbeat. He was alive, but for how long? Scott ran to the bullet and tried to reach it.
Sam patted Derek's cheek. "Hey, you gotta get up! Derek? You gotta tell us what to do! Derek, wake up!", Sam yelled, tearing up in panic. This wasn't how she wanted to spend her night. Not watching someone die from poisoning. This wasn't a good look.
"Scott, what the hell are we going to do?", Stiles asked.
"I don't know!", Scott yelled as he continued to reach for the bullet. "I can't reach it."
"He's not waking up!", Sam warned, looking at Scott.
"I think he's dying. I think he's dead.", Stiles said.
"Just hold on!" Scott said. "I got it!", he exclaimed.
Stiles pushed Sam out of the way. "Please don't kill me for this.", Stiles said as he pulled back his fist and punched Derek in the jaw.
Stiles held his fist as he groaned in pain but woke up Derek.
The two lifted Derek and Scott handed him the bullet. Derek bit the tip off and poured the gunpowder out. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the gunpowder.
As it sizzled, blue smoke arose. Derek scooped up the burnt gunpowder into his hand and reluctantly dumped it into the bullet hole in his arm.
He yelled in pain and fell back down to the floor, arching his back in pain. The teens watched as the poison in his arm disappeared and the hole closed up and Derek eventually calmed down.
"That was awesome!", Stiles exclaimed. Sam huffed in annoyance and relief.
"Are you ok?", Scott asked.
"Well, except for the agonizing pain.", Derek growled sarcastically.
"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health.", Stiles said. Derek stood up and glared at him.
Sam gave a weak chuckle and sighed, smiling in relief. "I'm just glad you didn't die on us. I don't know what I would've done."
Derek's frown softened as he looked at her then looked away. "Yeah, I'm okay."
"Ok, we saved your life," Scott said, pulling Sam and Stiles away from Derek. "Which means you're gonna leave us alone, you got that? And if you don't then I'm going to go back to Allison's dad and I'm gonna tell them everything."
"You're gonna trust them?", Derek gave a scoffing chuckle. "You think that they can help you?"
"Well, why not? They're a lot freaking nicer than you are.", Scott countered.
"Oh, I can show you exactly how nice they are.", Derek challenged, making Scott falter.
"What do you mean?"
Derek led the teens to the Beacon Crossing Home, and they got out. They followed Derek inside and down a hallway to a room. Once they walked in, they saw a man in a wheelchair by a window with his back to them.
"Who is he?", Scott whispered.
"My uncle.", Derek answered. "Peter Hale."
"Is he a werewolf like you?", Sam asked softly.
"He was.", Derek said. "Now he's barely even human. Six years ago, my sister and I were at school and our house caught fire. Eleven people were trapped inside. He was the only survivor.", Derek says, solemnly and shocking the teens. Sam glanced at the older man in the wheelchair. Why them? Why his family?
"So, what makes you so sure that they set the fire?", Scott asked.
"Cause they're the only ones who knew about us.", Derek said.
"Well, then, they had a reason.", Scott said. Sam looked at Scott in disbelief. "Really, Scott?"
"Like what? You tell me what justifies this.", Derek turned the wheelchair around to reveal the right side of Peter's face that was seared and burnt. He barely glanced at them. He looked almost dead. There wasn't a speak of light or life in his eyes. Poor man...
"They say they'll only kill an adult and only with absolute proof but there were people in my family that were perfectly ordinary in that fire. This is what they do. And it's what Allison will do.", Derek declared, grimly.
"What are you doing?" A high pitch, clear woman's voice sounded in the doorway, making them all jump. They saw a red headed woman in uniform standing behind them. "How did you get in here?"
"We were just leaving.", Derek growled out before leading the teens out in a hurry.
They dropped Scott off at his place before Stiles dropped Sam off at hers with Derek following her. Stiles gave him a weird look before he hurriedly drove off.
"They're such assholes.", Sam grumbles, sighing at the retreating jeep.
Derek huffed. "They're just scared. It's normal."
Sam nodded in understanding. "You're a ways far from your place, y'know. Did you want me to drop you off?"
Derek didn't say anything. "Did you wanna come in? We could talk some more? Or you could rest? I don't know if you wanna go back home just yet after everything today.", Sam offers.
He didn't say anything but nodded. Thankfully, her mom wasn't home tonight, and they walked inside. Sam locked the front door and looked at Derek as he looked around.
"Nice place.", he compliments. She smiled. "Are you feeling up to eating anything? You kinda did puke your guts out.", Sam says, walking toward the dining room.
He huffed. "I guess."
She looked for some snacks, albeit being late but she didn't wanna make him wait until the next time he'd eat. She pulled out a bag of chicken nuggets from the fridge and hurried them into the oven. Derek scoffed. "Chicken nuggets? What're you, 5?"
Sam turned to him, a hand on her hip. "Excuse me, sir, but you're in no condition to complain. Plus, it's not a bad thing to eat this late at night anyways so you're welcome."
He gave her a half smile and it made her look at him in astonishment. The smile quickly went away. "What?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. Just never seen you smile like that."
His frown deepened. "It's not a bad thing! Promise!", she rushed. He rolled his eyes as a slight smile appeared on his face again. Tonight was definitely a long night indeed.
After getting him to finally eat, they went upstairs to her room and sat down to talk.
"So… your uncle.", Sam starts. He looks at her with a frown. She raises her hand before he can start. "Just lemme know if I'm overstepping boundaries here.", she says before continuing.
"Why did the Argents even know about your family to begin with?", she asked. Derek looked at his hands. "That's just what they do. It's a whole family line with them. A whole family tree of hunters.", he says.
"How did they find out that you had werewolves in your family?", Sam asked. His frown deepened as if he was considering his next answer. "Someone did their research and got nosy… next thing I know, I'm walking up to see my house in flames.", he says, shaking his head.
"Why do you stay at the house? Couldn't you find somewhere else to live?", she asked.
"Okay.", he says, bluntly. Sam grimaced. "Too much?" He nods. "Too much."
She sighed. At least he gave some type of answers. She kinda understood the reason why he was the way he was.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that. I can't imagine losing my mom, my brother or Scott and Stiles.", Sam apologizes, sadly.
He turned to me. "You have a brother?", he asks. Sam nodded. "He doesn't live with us anymore. Moved out the first chance he could get. Never understood why."
His eyebrows furrowed and he nodded in understanding. "I wish I could say the same."
Sam frowned softly and lifted a hand to rub at his back. He looked at her in confusion. "The hell are you doing…?", he mumbled.
She quickly drops her hand in embarrassment. "I was trying to comfort you, you ass!", she exclaimed.
His eyes widened, taken aback. "I never said it was bad!"
"Well then, quit making it weird!", she argued. Sam sighed, scratching at the base of her neck. "Thanks, I guess.", she hears him mumble.
She gives him a slight smile. "You're welcome, I guess."