CHAPTER FOUR:  magic bullet

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MARYAM ATHENA PEREZ WAS ASLEEP WHEN THE FEELING OF UNEASINESS HAD CAUSED HER AWAKE. The girl gasped as she sat up, confused. She waited for the vision, but none came. She had the feeling that something was wrong. She was needed, somewhere.

Derek was in trouble.
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Her parents had forced her to go to school, stating that they would find Derek, but since both had work, only up until a certain time. But, the search for Derek would only be left alone, with no one searching for him towards the end of her school day.

She had debated to skip class, ignore her parents and search for him.
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Derek Hale walked through the halls do Beacon Hills high, slow and soft steps. He tried to do use on walking, as if he wasn't about to fall to the floor.  The he caught sight of Jackson Whittmore, he was aware of his status on the lacrosse team.  It was likely he knew where Scott was. Or, maybe on the off chance of him knowing Mary. Derek walked up to him. "Where's Scott MCCall?"

Jackson closed his locker, looking at the man. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because I asked politely. And I only do that once."

"Okay, tough guy. How about I help you find him if you tell me what you're selling him? What is it? Is it Dianabol?" He hummed in question. "HGH?"

"Steroids?" Derek questioned.

"No, Girl Scout cookies. What the hell do you think I'm talking about? By the way, whatever it is you're selling, I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked."

Derek looked at his arm, blood dripping. "God, no wonder Maryam hated this school."

Jackson made a puzzled face. "Maryam?" He questions before his face shifts into one of realization. "You mean Crazy Mary?"

Derek glared at the teen, growling lowly. Jackson took a step back at the heated glare. Derek went to side step the boy. "Don't call her-" Derek stoped, hearing a familiar tapping rhythm. It was the same one Mary would do whenever she was nervous or worried. "I'll find them myself."

"No, we're not done here," Jackson reached out, grabbing a hold of his shoulder to stop him.

Derek turned back, pushing the and off his shoulder before grabbing the back of Jackson's neck and pinning him to the locker. His claws had came out, he looked down, removing the hand. "Talk to, go near, or talk about Mary, and I'll rip you head off." Derek says, then quickly moving down the hall.

He used his enhanced hearing to search for Mary.
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Mary was walking in the halls, it being the end of the day. She made a puzzled face to see Jackson Whittmore walking down the hall, rushed steps as he had a hand on the back of his neck. He had made eye contact with her before his eyes immediately bounced off her.

Mary ignored his behavior, being surprised when he didn't mutter a harsh variation of her name. She rushed after Scott and Stiles, but, Stiles was headed towards his car, and Scott towards his bike. Mary follows Scott. "I need your help." She says.

Scott jumped, stopping in unlocking his bike. "What could you poss-" he was cut off as there was multiple horns honking, marking them turn to the sound.

"Oh my god," Mary breathed out at te sight of Derek, standing in the road, and arm extended. He seemed unsteady. Mary rushed forward, seeing Derek fall to the ground.

She was quickly at his side, kneeling on the pavement to check on him. "Derek?" She questioned, only looking for a response that he was still conscious. Still alive.

She heard Scott's voice. "What the hell? What are  you doing here?" Scott questioned.

"I was shot," Derek breathed out.

"He's not looking so good, dude," Stiles speaks.

"Why aren't you healing?" Scott questioned.

"I can't. It was a different kind of bullet."

"A silver bullet?" Stiles asked, with much to excitement.

"No, you idiot."
"No, dumbshit."
Both Derek and Mary tells him.

"Wait. That's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours," Scott says.

"What? Who said forty-eight hours?"

Mary reached out, gently placing a hand onto Derek's arm, below the wound. Her head shut up.

"Mary-" Derek started, reached out with the injured arm and pulling her back up as she began to fall.

Scott, confused, grabbed her other arm, keeping her up.   "What's happening to her? Is she having a se-" Scott began.

"No. No. She gets premonitions." Derek winced, a sharp pain making him grind his teeth down and eyes shut. His grip on Mary loosened.

Scott quickly grabbed her before noticing that Derek's eyes were glowing blue.  "What are you doing? Stop that! Mary, wake up! Stop that."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I can't." Derek tells him.  "Mary will wake up in any second."

Mary moved forward, used to falling backwards, and slammed her head into Scott's head, being unaware of how close he was. "Ow! Fuck!" She rubbed her head before turning to Derek. "Kate shot you."

"Stop doing that," Derek tells her.

"We need to get him up," Scott speaks, gently letting go of Mary's arm.

Mary looked around, before she walked around Derek, arms underneath his. "Help me with him," she tells Scott, looking annoyed. "She's a fucking giant."

"You're just short," Derek replied back, grinding teeth down.

Scott moved to help Mary, instead taking Derek from her arms and putting him into the passenger seat. Mary walked around the car, stopping Stiles from getting into the driver's seat.

"What are you-" Stiles began to question.

"I'm coming with." She said.

Stiles sighed, hanging his head. He opened his door, allowing for Mary to get into the back seat. Stiles hoped into the driver's, turning to Scott. "I hate you so much for this."

Stiles drives off.
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Derek had struggled to remove his jacket, even as Mary had shifted to reach into the front seat to try and help him. He had told her to put on her seatbelt. Stiles threw his phone. "Come on. Try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Derek asked at the same time Mary spoke; "I know it's extremely difficult for you, but can you not be an ass for five seconds?"

Stiles ignored the girl. "Your house."

"What? No, you can't take me there." Derek spoke.

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles laughed in question.

"Not when I can't protect myself."

"I'll be there," Mary spoke up. "I'll protect you."

Stiles had pulled over the car. "What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?"

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

Mary frowned, both because the other was in pain and because she had no clue what was happening, what Derek's last resort was.

"What do you mean? What last resort?" Stiles asked, only to look back at Derek and see that he had lifted his sleeve up, past the bullet wound to reveal the injury. Stiles gagged at the sight. "Oh, my God. What is that? Oh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out."

Mary glared at Stiles. "Shut the fuck up."

"Do you not see that?" Stiles yelled the question.

"Start the car. Now." Derek growled out.

"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."

"Not if you want your limbs in working condition." Mary threatened.
"Start the car... or I'm gonna rip your throat out... with my teeth," Derek growled.

Stiles looked back and forth between the heated glares, before staring the car. Mary had leaned over the seat, looking at the wound.

"Put on your seatbelt," Derek told Mary.

"I don't think this thing has seatbelts," Mary replied.

"You do not-" Stiles began.

"Don't tell me what to do, Stilinski. This car is in worst condition then the hunters I fought...killed," she corrected.

Stiles gasped at the insult to his car.
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Once again, they were pulled over on the side of the road, Mary still leaning over the seat to try and help Derek. There was nothing she could do, though.

"What am I supposed to do with him?"  Stiles asked Scott. There was a brief second of silence. "And by the way, he's starting to smell."

"Like what?" Scott questioned.

"Like death." Stiles says.

Mary slapped the back of his head. "What your excuse for smelling? You sit on the bench."

"Okay," Stiles went to turn to Mary, mouth opening before realizing how close the girl was to him. He stared at her.

"Stiles!" Scott whisper-yelled through the phone. 

Which caused for Stiles's attention to snap back at him. "What about your boss?"

Stiles sighs, handing the phone over to Derek. "You're not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you."

Derek, eyes closed, reached out for the phone and pressed it to his ear. "Did you find it?"

"How am I supposed to find one bullet? They have a million! This house is like the freaking Walmart of guns!"

"If you don't find it, then I'm dead, all right?"

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

Mary glared at the sentence. "Give me the phone."

"Then think about this-- the Alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time, either you kill with him, or you get killed. So, if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet." Derek says, before going to hang up, before he could, Mary swiped the phone from his hand.

"It's not that difficult," she says.

"Then you come here and find it," Scott almost yelled into the phone.

"I would, but if the Argent's see me, I'm dead. Even if there's a lot of bullets, a few have to be missing from the ow she used to shot Derek." She then hung up the phone. "Geesh, new werewolves," she shakes her head.
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Mary had been tasked with searching for the key, and Stiles to make sure that Derek didn't fall over. Once Mary found the key, she unlocked the door, pulling it open and holding it as Derek quickly sat down on a stack of peddle food.

"Does Northern Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?" Stiles questioned.

At the name, Mary's head snapped up.

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

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm gonna die without it."
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Derek had shoved Stiles into the exam room, annoyed with the pace he was going, as well as the questions he was asking. Mostly about 'what the hell Mary was' or the type of wolves-bane being used.

Derek removed his shirt, placing his arm onto the metal table.

Stiles gags. "Okay, you know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of..."

"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me," Derek panted out.

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

" If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time-- last resort." Derek when to look through the cabinet and drawers.

"Which is...?" Stiles asked, looking down at Mary.

The girl shrugged. "For once, I'm as clueless with him as you are."

Until Derek placed a bone saw onto the table. "You're gonna cut off my arm."
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"Oh, my god," Mary says in horror.

"Mary right? You mean Mary is going to cut off your arm?" Stiles questioned.

"No! I'm not doing that! I would never do that!" Mary immediately yelled.

"You murdered people but you can't cut off an arm?" Stiles asked.

"That was different!"

"Right. He's asking you to do it."

"I didn't care for those hunters!"

"Shut up," Derek says, after having tied the blue tourniquet around his arm.

Stiles lifted up the saw, pressing down on the button for a second before he immediately dropped it. "Oh, my God. What if you bleed to death?"

"It'll heal... If it works..."

"Ugh. Look, I don't know if I can do this."

Derek sighs, impatiently. "Why not?"

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!"

"You faint at the sight of blood?" he questioned in annoyance.

"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm! Why can't Mary do it! She's literally called bloody mary!"

Derek, used his injured arm to feature to Mary, who was rambling lowly and endlessly. "Okay, didn't worry, Derek, we got this. We fought ten hunters and get away, Stiles can chop off your arm and it'll heal. If it doesn't, I'll chop off a hunter's arm and sew it back onto your body." she has grabbed his uninjured hand. "Dad used to do this when I was getting my flu shots. Do you feel calmer?"

"What-" Stiles began, seeing the girl panic and speak rapidly. "I think that's the most I've ever heard her talk than in two years."

Derek sighs, annoyed. "All right, fine. How about this-- either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head."

Stiles scoffed. "Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats any--" Derek has removed his hand from Mary's and grabbed Stiles's shirt, pulling him forward with a hard glare on his face.

Stiles gasped, turning his face away.  "Oh, my God! Okay. All right. Bought. Sold. Totally. I'll do it. I'll do it."

But, then Derek began to heave, turning his head to the side. Mary had jumped back, moving to behind Derek as she realized that he would end up throwing up.

"What? What are you doing?" Stiles questioned, Derek puked up the black liquid. Stiles gagged in disgust. "Holy God, what the hell is that?"

"It's my body... trying to heal itself..."  Derek explained, still leaned against the table.

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it." Stiles says, voice still filled with disgust.

"Shut up! Stop being a dick!" Mary glared at Stiles.

"Now. You gotta do it now." Derek says.

"Look, honestly, I don't think I can--" Stiles began.

"Just do it!"

"Oh, my God. Okay, okay..." Stiles turned on the saw. "Oh, my God.... All right, here we go..." he pressed the saw to Derek's arm.

"STILES!" Scott's voice suddenly rang out.

"Scott?" Stiles questioned back.

Scott had entered the room, taking in the scene. "What the hell are you doing?"

Stiles breathed pour in relief. "Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares!"

"Did you get it?" Derek questioned.

Scott handed him the bullet.

"What are you gonna do with it?" Stiles asked.

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." Derek answers weakly, only to end up fainting. The bullet falls out of his hand and into the drain.

"No! No, no, no, no..." Scott dived after it.

Mary barely caught Derek in time. And when she had, she had collapsed under his weight.  Stiles ran over, leaning over. "Derek! Derek, come on, wake up! Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?"

"I don't know! I can't reach it!" Scott yelled.

"He's not waking up..." stiles panicked

"Get the damn bullet!" Mary yelled.

"I'm trying! Come on..."

Mary moved, gently placing Derek down before pushing Scott out of the way and lifting the bullet from the drain.

"I think he's dying... I think he's dead!" Stiles says.

The bullet almost dropped back into the drain at the words, before Mary was able to catch it again. 

"Please don't kill me for this." Stiles muttered before he punched Derek in the face. "Ugh! Ow! God!"

"Give me--" derek began.

Scott lifted Derek up, with Stiles's help as Mary had unscrewed the bullet, emptying the dust before pulling it into a pile. Derek pulled the lighter from his pocket, lighting the dust particles of the follower on fire. It sparked, a small fire being formed before it sizzled down to sparks and then blue smoke. Derek scooped it up, then pressing it into the bullet wound. He yelled out in pain, falling again.

Mary went to help, only as Derek began to trash around slightly, Stiles had pulled her back. Derek continued to scream in pain, the bullet wound had healed.

"That. Was. Awesome!!! Yes!!!" Stiles yelled out.

Mary moved forward, removing the blue rubber band from Derek's arm, already having picked up his shirt.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked.

"Well, except for the agonizing pain..." Derek spoke sarcastically.

"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health..." Stiles speaks.

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

"You're gonna trust them? You think they can help you?" Derek questioned, appalled.

Mary stared at the new wolf, thinking he was insane. "You can't trust them."

Scott scoffs. "Well, why not? They're a lot freaking nicer than you are."

"I can show you exactly how nice they are." Derek angrily replied.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked.

Mary looked up at Derek. "The Argents are the ones who burnt down the Hale house." She says, she doesn't bring up how Kate Argent had almost succeeded in killing her.
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"Thanks," Mary tells Stiles, who had just dropped the girl off at her house. She closed the passenger door, before turning towards her house.

"Mary!" Stiles called out.

The girl turned back to the buzz-cut haired boy. "Yeah?"

"What did the Argents do? To you? When we were looking for Allison that day in school, you-" Stiles began.

"Spoke the Argent name with hatred?" She finished. "Yeah...that's another story for another time." She turned back, entering the house. It was manly because she didn't want to think about it. The girl looked down at her shirt, which covered the scar.
The scar left by Kate Argent, two years ago.
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