v. FRAYED

○ ○ ○

"Derek, this is your sister, Caterina - but, we're going to call her Carter."

THE FIVE YEAR OLD looked down at the infant. She was wrapped up in a soft pink blanket, curled up in their mother's arms. Talia adjusted the baby slightly in her arms that was when Derek finally got a good look at her small face. Her eyes were closed, long eyelashes brushing against her pink-tinted cheeks; her mouth was open slightly causing small raspberries to be blown out whenever she breathed.

     Derek was overjoyed when his mother told him that he was going to have another baby sister, but his excitement piqued now that the infant had actually entered the world. Talia noticed the excitement on Derek's face she nodded for him to sit in a chair so she could prop the baby up in his arms. He skipped over to the chair, preparing himself to hold the small bundle. Talia adjusted his arms before gently placing Carter in her brother's arms.

     At the sudden movement, Carter's eyes fluttered open, revealing bright scarlet-orange irises before they quickly diminished into the normal infant-blue. "Hi," Derek cooed, softly stroking the baby's cheek.

     Carter's small eyes widened, seeming slightly startled by his voice. She glanced around her, slowly taking in everything around her before her eyes settled back on Derek's face. He couldn't help but notice that she looked so much like their mother - dark hair, rounded face, and softly sloped nose. Everyone in the room knew that Carter was going to grow up into a beautiful woman, but hadn't realized how hard she was going to have it by going up alone and without her family.

     The cushion of the chair dipped slightly and Derek felt breathing on his neck. He glanced back to see a three-year-old Cora, her chin was propped up on his shoulder as she stared down at the infant.

     "She's pretty, Mama," Cora announced in a small voice. Carter tilted her head slightly, frowning heavily, small dimples forming on the sides of her cheeks.

     Derek nodded his head, "Yeah, she is." He watched as Carter wiggled her right arm out of the swaddled blanket, her small hand instantly wrapping itself around Derek's finger before her eyes closed and fell asleep in her brother's arms.

○ ○ ○

     For her whole life, she had been made aware of all the evil that the world held. She grew up wishing that she was like her siblings, hoping to be like the creatures that lurked in the shadows, until she found out that she was something of her own. When Derek saw his sister for the first time when he was five, he knew that she would need him to bring her back every time she lost herself - no matter what.

     But now, Carter didn't know if she could bring herself back now that she thought he was dead.

    The last thing Carter had said to Derek was that he was a complete idiot for kicking Isaac out of the loft; she could picture Isaac's saddened face in her mind. Carter knew that Derek was only trying to protect the young Beta, but that didn't make things better. If he was kicking Isaac out, she was going to be leaving as well and they weren't coming back. She disappeared, she didn't say that she loved him or say thank you for saving her ass a thousand times. She didn't tell him that she was sorry for coming back into his life and bringing her problems with her. Nothing, she left everything behind and walked right out the door.

    "Yo, Scotty...Carter," Stiles voice rung in her ears as he snapped his fingers next to Scott's face, "Hey, yo, Scotty and Carter, still with me?"

     Carter lifted her head off the bus window, and she peered over the seat to see that Stiles was glancing between her and Scott. She didn't smile to assure him that she was okay, she didn't lie either. She just simply stared at him, not being able to form words on her tongue.

    She tried to sit up, but slapped a hand to her mouth and gasped loudly when a surge of fiery agony flashed through her entire body all over again. Her eyes shut tight, hands gripped onto the seat, as she sunk her teeth into her lip waiting for the pain to dull down. The wounds weren't hers; they were the werewolf's sitting behind her, and the others were Derek's. It had been Derek's plan to go after the Alpha pack, but she couldn't bring herself to think about him.

    Carter allowed the physical pain to control her thought process, keeping her mind off of the subject of Derek.

     "Yeah, sorry," Scott mumbled, lifting his head off of the window to look at Stiles, who was sitting to his right, the two of them sitting in the seat behind Carter. "What's the word?"

     "Anachronism," Stiles announced, looking down at his iPad.

     "Something that exists out of its normal time," Scott answered. He glanced over at Carter and saw that she didn't look any better than he did. In fact, she looked ten times worse. Her skin was sickly pale, dark circles were around her puffy eyes from the lack of sleep and crying so much after Scott had told her about her brother.

     But she didn't believe that Derek was dead - she could still feel the pain of his wounds. When Jackson slashed his own stomach open, the pain of that wound had disappeared when he died. The pain she was feeling was still there, reminding her that there was a sliver of hope that her brother could still be alive. She just couldn't bring herself to tell them because she didn't have solid evidence that he was.

     "Nice," Stiles praised. "Okay, next word: incongruous."

     "Um, can you use it in a sentence?"

     "Yes. Yes, I can." Stiles answered quickly. "It's completely incongruous that we're sitting on a bus right now on our way to some stupid cross-country meet after what just happened; incongruous."

     Scott nodded his head, catching onto Stiles' definition, "Out of place, ridiculous, absurd."

     "Perfect. Okay, next word: um, Darach." As soon as the word fell from Stiles' lips, Scott and Carter were both looking at him. "Darach, it's a noun. We have to talk about it sometime, okay? And we're gonna be stuck in this thing for, like, five hours, so why not?"

     Carter's head slowly lolled back to rest upon the bus' window, Scott replicating her action. Neither of them were in the mood to talk about the sacrifices at that moment. Carter was more concerned about how she was going to prove to herself that Derek was alive, or how Scott and Derek's wounds weren't healing even though it's been over half of day since they had been inflicted.

     "Next word..." Stiles cleared his throat. "Intransigent."

     "Stubborn, obstinate."

     The bus rattled loudly when it ran over a large pothole in the road, making Scott's eyes squeeze shut as he groaned loudly. From the seat in front of them, Carter's grip on the seat tightened, a string of groans escaping her lips.

     Stiles noticed their pained reactions, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "Oh, are you guys okay?" Carter remained silent, while Scott let out a painful breath. "We shouldn't have come. I knew it. We shouldn't have come."

     "We had to," Scott insisted. "There's safety in numbers."

      "Yeah, well, there's also death in numbers, okay? It's called a massacre," Stiles began as he moved to look on his iPad. "Or bloodbath, carnage, slaughter, butchery, wow, that's..."

      Carter let out a pained gasp as her shoulder wound bounced against the window as the bus continued to shake. Stiles looked startled, hearing Carter gasp and Scott moan in agony as they grew increasingly more uncomfortable on that bus.

     "All right, I'm telling Coach that-"

     "No," Scott's eyes snapped open, "No, no, no. We're all right."

     Stiles stared at them for a few seconds, his lips parted as he silently studied his two best friends. They were both completely and utterly broken. "Well, you two don't look all right." Stiles announced, turning to Scott, he reached his hand out to try and see the injury. "Would you just let me see it?"

     Scott instantly pushed Stiles' hand away, "I'm okay."

     "Just let me see it, okay?"

     "Okay," Scott whispered, twisting in his seat, he pulled up the side of his white shirt so that Stiles could assess the damage. Trailing along the side of his rib cage were three long claw marks that still continued to bleed.

     "Oh, dude," Stiles mumbled sympathetically.

     Scott noticed the look on Stiles' face, "I know it's bad, but it's just because they're from an Alpha. It'll take longer to heal. You should be more worried about Carter, she's even worse."

     Stiles instantly stood up from the seat he was sharing with Scott, to sit in the seat in front of them with Carter. The dipping of the seat caused her eyes to slowly flutter open; she flinched slightly to see Stiles sitting there, his eyes wide as he examined her. There was a hollow feeling in his chest as he peered down at her; he couldn't stand to see her in so much pain - knowing that he wouldn't be able to handle his crazed life without her being in it.

     "Let me see," Stiles instructed, reaching out his hand to grab the bottom of Carter's light-gray shirt.

     Carter gently pushed his hands away, moving herself into a proper sitting position before lifting the shirt enough to show her entire abdomen. There were four deep slashes traveling across her stomach, and along her rib cage were the mirrored version of Scott's wounds. She pulled the shirt back down before pushing aside the collar of the shirt to reveal her bloodied shoulder. Stiles' eyes widened at the sight of her shoulder; it was a mess of torn flesh and blood.

     Carter's shoulder was in such a tattered state that Stiles could hardly tell that it had once been a shoulder. The skin around the lacerations was swollen and glistened wet blue-purple. The tearing of the flesh suggested the skin had been torn from the front in a quick ripping motion.

     Stiles allowed Carter to relax back into the seat, pushing her hair out of her face before he returned to his previous seat with Scott. "How come Boyd and Isaac are fine then?" He questioned, glancing toward the front of the bus were the two Betas in question were sitting.

     Scott didn't answer, leaning his head back against the window. Stiles sighed, nibbling on his lip out of frustration; he took another glance at Carter. Stiles didn't know how Carter functioned at all; he couldn't even begin to understand the amount of loss she had experienced in her short-life of seventeen-years. She had lost most of her family in a fire and several friends along the course of her life.

     He knew that she wasn't going to be able to keep it together much longer.

     "I can't believe he's dead," Scott muttered. "I can't believe Derek's dead."

○ ○ ○

"The two of you, back in your seats. Jared, again, car sick? Every...how do you even get on the bus? Look at me. No, don't look at me. Look at the horizon. Keep your eyes - keep your eyes on the horizon. McCall, Hale, not y'all, too."

     "No, Coach, we're good," Scott shouted back, shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath.

     Stiles frowned, looking down at Scott's side. "Hey, Scott, you're bleeding again." He leaned over the seat and saw that all of Carter's wounds were bleeding as well, seeping through the fabric of her shirt. "And so is Carter - and don't tell me that it's just taking longer to heal, okay? Because I'm pretty sure that still bleeding means not healing, like, at all."

     Carter's eyes flicked down to her shirt, which now had three large red stains on it. She sighed, but instantly winced as her body protested against any and every move she made. Those wounds definitely weren't healing. There had to be something wrong.

     "He's listening," Scott muttered, his eyes locked on the back of Ethan's head. All three of them watched as he listened intently to their conversation.

     "Is he gonna do something?"

     "Not in front of this many people," Carter immediately answered, making both boys look over at her, startled to hear her voice for the first time since they had gotten on the bus. Her voice cracked slightly, it sounded rough and hoarse.

     "Okay, well, what about the two ticking time bombs sitting right near him?" Stiles asked, pointing his finger at Boyd and Isaac.

     They all glanced over to Ethan's left to see that Boyd and Isaac were barely keeping themselves in control. Carter didn't blame them one bit. Ethan was there the night Derek had died. Even though Carter had been angry, she wasn't going to let the two Betas do something stupid that would get them hurt, or killed.

     Scott shook his head, "No, they won't. Not here."

     "Okay, well, what if they do? Are you gonna stop them?" Stiles asked, his eyes locked on them.

     "If I have to."

     Everyone on the bus flew forward as the bus driver slammed on the breaks, Stiles' hand instantly reached over the seat to hold onto Carter's uninjured shoulder, making sure that she didn't tumble to the floor. The abrupt stop had caused Carter and Scott to let out a chorus of groans.

     Scott's sudden movements made Stiles and Carter turn to look at him. Stiles was confused, his eyebrows knitting together in the middle as he watched Scott struggle to get up on his feet. "What - What - Scott? Where are you going?"

     "Boyd," Scott panted, "He's gonna do something."

     "Okay, what? How do you know?" Stiles asked frantically.

     "Look at his hands," Scott rushed, Carter sat herself up and noticed that Boyd's claws were extended, curling around the edge of the seat, he was preparing himself to strike Ethan.

     With a sudden boast of adrenaline, Carter sprung to her feet and placed a hand on Scott's chest. Scott's hard eyes softened as he looked down at her in confusion. Carter softly shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat.

     No words escaped Carter's mouth; she just stared at them as she moved out of her seat so she could make her way down the aisle. The two boys protested, but it was too late, she was already descending down the aisle, struggling to stand as the boost of adrenaline faded away and she instantly became lightheaded.

     Carter finally made it to Boyd and Isaac's seat; she stumbled over her own feet and nearly fell flat on her face. If she had fallen, she wasn't sure if she would have been able to push herself back up. She placed her hand over Boyd's, glancing over at the two Betas in the seat. Slowly, she sunk down in the seat across from them so that Coach didn't see the blood on her shirt and get suspicious.

     Boyd looked over at her, not at all pleased by her sudden appearance, his lips pulled over his teeth in a snarl. "Let go."

     "You got a plan?" Carte asked, her dark eyebrows rose as she kept her hand firmly on his. "Tell me your brilliant plan, and I'll let go. What are you gonna do? Kill him right here? And then what? What are you gonna do after that?"

     Boyd's eyes hardened into a glare, "I don't care."

     Boyd jerked forward, Carter immediate held her arm out so she could block him in. Even though her strength had nothing on Boyd's, Isaac also grabbed Boyd, helping on the other end to restrain him. Carter looked at Boyd and said: "I do."

     "Oh, my God, Carter. You're still hurt." Isaac frantically announced, his brotherly concern for the brunette getting the best of him. Ever since the two of them went to the rave together, they had grown extremely close; they looked out for each other. And when he saw the blood on Carter's shirt, panic settled in his chest.

     Carter glanced down at her shirt before looked back at Scott. The two of them were sweating, Carter more profusely than Scott as the increasing temperature of the heat surges inside her body made her hair and clothes cling to her sticky skin.

     Carter gave Isaac a nod as she struggled to breathe properly, "I'm fine."

     She fought back a groan as another wave of warmth flashed through her. She was suffocating inside her own body; her body was slowly falling apart from the inside out - and soon, she won't be able to mend the broken pieces of her life back together. In spite of the burning warmth her body created, the blazing flame her soul created was quickly beginning to flicker.

     "Give me a chance to figure something out, something that doesn't have to end with someone else dying." Carter insisted, a pleading look in her eyes.

     Boyd stared at her, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. She didn't look good; she resembled someone who had gotten into a severe car accident in the middle of nowhere and was trying to crawl their way to a hospital.

     "Okay."

     Carter nodded, slowly rising to her feet and continued down the aisle, ignoring the looks all of the students gave her as she made her way back to her seat. She plopped back down into her seat in front of Scott and Stiles. She moved closer to the window, she ran her hands tiredly over her face as she tried to keep her thoughts in check - to keep her from having a mental breakdown in front of everyone.

     "Crisis averted?" Stiles mumbled, Carter hummed in response and slowly nodded her head. "Okay, good, because we got another problem. Ethan keeps checking his phone, like, every five minutes. It's like he's waiting for something, you know, like a message or a signal of some kind. I don't know, something evil though, I can tell. I have a very perceptive eye for evil, but you two know that."

     "I don't like him sitting with Danny," Carter announced, grinding her teeth together as another wave of heat came over; she awkwardly writhed in her seat as she became increasingly uncomfortable in her own skin.

     "Yeah, neither do I," Stiles agreed, keeping his eyes locked on Ethan as he shuffled through his pockets to find his phone. "I'm gonna see what he's waiting for."

     "What are you doing?" Scott breathed through the pain.

     "I'm gonna ask."

     When Danny's phone chimed loudly, Carter lifted her head from the window to see that Danny was looking back at Stiles with a questioning look. Stiles gestured toward his phone in his hand before Danny sternly mouthed: "No."

     Stiles frantically glanced between Carter and Scott before sending Danny another text message. After that, it had been a constant battle between Stiles and Danny; to Carter, it sounded like a battle on whose ringtone could be louder and more annoying.

    When Stiles had finally convinced Danny to ask Ethan why he was checking his phone so much, Ethan instantly knew it had something to do with Stiles and Scott. He turned around to glance at the duo, the two of them immediately ducked down.

     "Well, that wasn't very subtle," Stiles muttered out, him and Scott slowly rising back up into their original positions. Stiles looked down at his phone when he received a message from Danny saying that Ethan was waiting for word about someone close to him that was in the hospital.

     "Ennis?" Scott offered, rereading the message.

     Carter's body instantly went rigid at the mention of him. Scott didn't give intricate details about what occurred the night before, but she got enough to know that when Derek went down, he took Ennis down with him.

     "Okay, so does that mean, uh..." Stiles began, glancing over the seat toward Carter to study her face.

     "He's not dead," Scott and Carter confirmed simultaneously.

     "Not yet."

○ ○ ○

"Jared, I'm warning you. I'm an empathetic vomiter. You throw up, I'm gonna throw up right back on you. And it will be profoundly disgusting."

     Jared shook his head at Finstock, "Please don't talk about throwing up. It's not good."

     "I might throw up on you just to make a point, Jared."

     "It's not good. It's not good." Jared repeated, continuing to slowly shake his head to try and get Finstock off the subject entirely.

     Coach ignored Jared, turning to the rest of the bus and stating: "Now the rest of you, don't think we're gonna miss this meet because of a slight traffic jam, a minor tornado warning, Jared. We're gonna make this thing. Nothing is gonna stop up! Stilinski, put your hand down."

     "You know, there's, like, a food exit about a half a mile up. I don't know if we stop and then maybe traffic..." Stiles began to explain, making random hand movements to try and convince Coach to pull over. His two best friends were steadily looking worse by the minute.

     "We're not gonna stop."

     "Okay, but if we stop-"

     "Stilinski!" Finstock shouted, violently blowing on his whistle before it dropped and he began to move frantically to express his irritation. "Shut it! Seriously! It's a little bus! Stop asking me questions!"

     Stiles sunk back into his seat, hand falling over his mouth, "I hate him."

     "I don't know if I can stay awake for much longer," Carter announced, her head lolling around and giving them a look that screamed if she fell asleep, she didn't know if she would wake up. She didn't have the motivation to keep her eyes open, but fought to do so nevertheless. Her mind kept wandering back to Derek, no matter how hard she tried to fight away the thoughts.

     "Did you call Deaton?"

     Scott sighed, leaning his head back on the window. "I keep getting his voicemail." He was exhausted, wanting to sleep as much as Carter did, but they knew they couldn't.

     Stiles glanced between the two, scrambling to find his phone and dialing a familiar number. "That's it. I'm calling Lydia and Allison."

     Carter's eyes widened suddenly, the sound of their names made a different pain surge through her chest. She still hadn't resolved things between the brunette and strawberry-blonde, but she couldn't help but wish they were there so she could see them.

     "How are they gonna help, back in Beacon Hills?"

     "They're not. They've been following us for hours." Stiles stated, glancing over his shoulder to look out the rear window. "Pathetic," he mumbled, placing his phone against his ear.

     "Hey, Stiles," Carter could hear Lydia's voice on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, we're just about to walk into a movie, you know, the popcorn, and-"

     "I know you guys are right behind us. Put me on speaker," Stiles deadpanned, getting straight to the point.

     "Okay."

     "Okay, look, Scott and Carter are still hurt." Stiles began.

     "What do you mean "still,"? Are they not healing?" Allison's voice broke through the phone, concern laced in her words.

     "No, they're not healing. I think they're actually getting worse. Their blood's turning, like, a black color." Stiles explained, looking between the two injured teens.

     "What's wrong with them?"

     "What's wrong with them? I don't - do I have a PhD in lycanthropy and Pheanixology? How am I supposed to know that?" Stiles retorted, gently shaking Carter's shoulder when he noticed that her eyes were closed. She groaned in annoyance, trying to shrug Stiles' hand off. "Come on, Carter. I need you to keep your eyes open - just keep them open for a little longer. Can you do that for me?"

     "We need to get them off the bus," Allison's voice cracked, sounding as though she were on the verge of tears.

     "And take them where, a hospital?" Lydia asked.

"If they're dying, yeah," Allison countered. "Stiles, there's a rest area about a mile up. Tell the coach to pull over."

"Yeah, I've been trying." Stiles replied.

"Well, reason with him."

"Reason? Have you met this guy?"

Allison huffed from the other end, "Just try something."

The phone call ended, Stiles angrily thrust his phone back into his pocket. He turned to see that Scott and Carter were both leaning their heads on the window, wounds seeping with black blood as they tried to keep themselves awake. Stiles huffed, before exiting the seat.

Turning her head weakly, Carter managed to crawl out of her seat and into the one behind her. She moved over to Scott, placing her head softly on his shoulder, not having the strength to hold her head up. The two sat in silence, listening to each other's pained breaths. She needed to talk to him, but she couldn't find the right words to explain what she was thinking.

She wanted to tell him that if Derek was really dead, that it wasn't his fault and that he shouldn't beat himself up about it. Tell him that Derek sacrificed himself doing what he always felt he needed to do - save someone else's life. Derek might not have seemed like a good person on the outside, but once you had gotten past that rough exterior, he was golden on the inside.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked, pulling himself away from Carter slightly, enough to be able to look down at her.

Carter's lip quivered, but she didn't even have the chance to think about herself because the sound of Stiles' rising voice broke her train-of-thought.

"Coach, it's five minutes for a bathroom break, okay? We've been on this thing for, like, three hours-"

Whistle.

"It's sixty miles to the next rest stop-"

Whistle.

"Being cooped up for hours is not good-"

Whistle.

Carter lazily lifted her head from Scott's shoulder to see that Stiles was standing in front of Finstock, desperately trying to persuade him into pulling the bus over so Allison and Lydia could get Scott and Carter off the bus.

"You know, our bladders aren't exactly-"

Whistle.

"Coach-"

Whistle.

"This is-"

Whistle.

"Can you-"

Whistle.

"Please-"

Whistle.

Stiles glared at Coach, his voice rising with anger as he shouted: "Let me talk!"

Whistle. Chuckle.

"Every time-"

With one last overdramatically long whistle, Finstock was finally able to silence Stiles' attempts to get the bus to pull over. Carter frowned, watching as Stiles' chest heaved up and down with anger. Coach dropped the whistle to shout: "Get back to you seat, Stilinski!"

"OKAY!" Stiles exclaimed, wiping his hand across his mouth as he tried to calm himself down. Whipping his head around, he moved to retreat back to his seat.

Coach then turned to his left, "Jared, keep your eyes on the horizon."

Carter watched as Stiles' face lit up, a devious smirk formed on his lips as he slowly turned around to face Jared. Carter's eyes widened in realization at what Stiles had been planning to do next.

Stiles moved to sit next to the car-sick boy, "Hey, Jared. How you doing?"

○ ○ ○

"Jared, you suck! Hey, somebody grab some towels or a mop or a new bus!" Coach shouted, spraying Glade air freshener whilst everyone was frantically trying to escape the bus. The scent of Jared's stomach-contents filled the air, enough so that all of the students went clamoring and screaming off the bus.

Thankfully, it hadn't taken long to get to the rest stop, but, Scott and Carter were still badly injured, not even capable of standing on their own. That was where Allison and Lydia had come in. While Stiles and Allison wrapped Scott's arms around their shoulders, Lydia had taken the duty of getting Carter to the same destination as Scott.

"Okay, Carter," Lydia grumbled, grunting as Carter's feet drug across the ground. "I know we're not exactly on speaking terms, but I need you to help me out here."

Carter nodded weakly, grabbing onto the wall of the bathroom a few seconds after Stiles and Allison had set down Scott. She suddenly lost balance and all of her weight fell onto Lydia, who let out a strangled grunt. Stiles whirled around when he heard it, taking Carter from Lydia and carefully setting her down against the wall right next to Scott. He grabbed her face in his hands, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumb before he moved back to stand beside Allison and Lydia.

Allison moved forward, rolling up Scott and Carter's shirts to assess the damage. What they saw when their shirts were raised had been enough for Lydia and Stiles to take a small step backward. They knew that Scott was in bad condition, but that didn't stop them from noticing that Carter was in far worse condition than he was. She looked twice as bad, seeing as though she received twice as many injuries.

"Oh, my God," Allison whispered, her eyes filling with concern as she swallowed hard. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Sorry."

"Okay, just give us a second, okay?" Allison already had tears welling up in her eyes, she reluctantly stood and backed away from Scott and Carter. Turning around, she faced Stiles and Lydia, having absolutely no idea what to do or what was happening to them.

"This shouldn't be happening," Allison pointed out, the three of them moving toward the opposite side of the bathroom. "I've seen them heal from worse than this."

"Okay, what do we do then?" Stiles asked, frantically looking back over at his two best friends. "Do we just call an ambulance?"

"What if - What if it's too late? What if they can't help?" Allison asked quickly.

"We gotta do something," Stiles cried out, knowing that they were only going to get worse.

"You know, it could be psychological," Lydia breathed out. Stiles went to speak, but the sound of gagging caught their attention. Their heads snapped over in time to watch as Carter, who looked like she were going to throw up, lean away from Scott, her mouth opened as black blood spattered all over the floor.

Stiles urgently pointed in Carter's direction, "Does that look psychological to you?"

"Somatoformic," Lydia corrected, trying to keeping her eyes off of the gagging brunette on the other side of the room. "A physical illness from a psychogenic cause. It's all in their heads."

"All in their heads?" Stiles murmured to himself, glancing back over toward Scott and Carter. "Because of Derek. They're not letting themselves heal because Derek died."

"So what do we do?" Allison questioned him; Lydia began to dig around in her purse to reveal a travel size sewing kit.

"Stitch them up."

Allison let out a strained breath, realizing that as of that moment, it was either do or die for them. If she didn't do it, then they were going to die, and she knew that she would blame herself if they died and she could've stopped it.

"I'm serious," Lydia insisted to the trio. "Maybe all they need is to just believe it's healing."

Allison took the kit from Lydia, pulling out a lighter from her purse to sterilize the needle. The metal heated up, glowing a searing red as it burned off the germs. During that time, Lydia and Stiles removed Scott and Carter's shirts. Once their shirts were off, they were thrown into the trash can and Stiles began to lay paper towels on the floor.

"They're going to need new shirts. Where are their bags?" Allison asked, running the tip of the needle through the orange flame.

Stiles nodded, shooting up and standing beside Lydia. "Um, I'm gonna get them. I hate needles anyway, so..." He turned to exit the bathroom, quickly glancing back at Allison and asked: "Uh, do you know what you're doing?"

"Yeah, my father taught me."

"I mean, how fast are you gonna...I mean, the bus, like, the bus could leave." Stiles stumbled through his words.

"Okay, just make sure it doesn't leave." Allison snapped quickly.

"I can help. Come on," Lydia grabbed ahold of Stiles' wrist and exited the bathroom, leaving Allison alone with Scott and Carter.

"Okay," Allison whispered, exhaling deeply to try and calm her nerves. She kneeled down between Scott's knees, figuring she would stitch his wound up first before working on Carter's other two. "Okay, you two stay with me. Stay with me, okay? Stay with me."

Carter's head fell to the side, feeling the black liquid seep out of her mouth and down her neck, as she leant her head up against the pipe underneath the sink. "I'm tired," Carter mumbled at the same time as Scott.

"Just look at me, okay? Just look at me. Just keep looking at me." Allison pleaded, bringing the end of the string to her mouth and trying to flatten it down so it wouldn't fray when she would thread it through the needle. "Come on," she muttered softly, a sob clawed at the back of her throat as she struggled to thread the needle. She repeated her previous actions, but failed. "Come on. Come on."

"Unbelievable," a familiar female voice sneers from behind Allison; she didn't need to look to figure out who it was. She had been haunting her for the past couple of weeks. "One simple little task? You can't thread a needle?"

"I'm trying," Allison responded weakly, bringing the string back to her mouth.

"Well, you want my sympathy?" Her mother scoffed. "Because you're just a seventeen-year-old little girl and this is all too much for you to handle. Well, get over it. Thread the needle."

"My hands won't stop shaking," Allison breathed out, trying once again and failing once again.

"Breathe," Victoria whispered, moving toward her daughter and kneeling beside her. "Allison, breathe." Allison nodded, taking in a deep breath before slowly releasing it. "Try it again."

Allison watched as the string hits the rim of the loop, but refusing to fall into place. She let out a loud cry of frustration and anger, Scott and Carter's eyes shot open at the sudden sound before they slowly fluttered shut.

"Okay," Victoria said softly. "How do we approach a situation like this?" Allison let out a whimper instead of answering, her mother snapping harshly: "Allison!"

"Clinically," Allison gritted out, her entire body was trembling.

"And?"

"And unemotional - and unemotionally-" she sticks the thread back into her mouth, trying once again to keep it from fraying.

"Then stop crying, and do it." Victoria snapped, Allison sniffled before taking another deep breath.

Her eyes shut once again, taking in one last deep breath before looking back down at the needle and thread. Slowly, she wiggled the thread into the loop, finally tugging the thread through.

Carter's eyes fluttered open, watching as Allison hastily began to stitch up Scott's side as fast as her fingers would allow.

Carter saw nothing else after that, the colors around began to fade to black as darkness consumed her. Her deepest and darkest secrets rushed to the forefront of her mind, realizing that Derek Hale might not ever come back to her.

○ ○ ○

"Come on, Carter. I need you to open your eyes. I swear to God, if you don't open your eyes I'm gonna go crazy. I will literally lose my mind without you, okay?"

Carter gasped loudly as her eyes shot open, everything around her was hazy and unfocused. As if she had been coming down from some major partying, but she knew that there had definitely not been any partying because was she was feeling hurt ten times worse than after a night of partying had ever hurt before.

She instantly caught eyes with Scott, it was kind of hard not to when his face had been hovering mere inches away from her own. Carter could immediately tell that he looked better, as better as anyone their situation could have looked. She couldn't help but let a small smile appear on her lips as she stared at his concerned expression.

Scott's face softened, "It's my fault."

Carter weakly reached out, cupping his cheek in her hand, tilting his head upward slightly. "Scott, look at me," Slowly, his gaze finally met her. "It's okay. Derek is not your fault."

Scott nodded softly, his eyes soon trailing down to the stitching that had been done to her wounds. Carter's gaze followed his, glancing down to see the wounds on her shoulder and stomach had been sewn shut. The lacerations on her ribs looked as though they had been stitched together with imaginary thread - in all honestly, it looked really creepy to Carter.

"Did Allison do that?" Carter asked, Scott let out a laugh due to his relief and nodded his head. "Nice," she complemented, making him let out a soft laugh once again.

"Can you stand?"

But before Carter could respond, Scott's hands wrapped around her arms and gently pulling her to her feet, the two of them let out a strained grunt at the strenuous physical movements. Scott slowly let go, allowing Carter to lean against the sink as he grabbed her the shirt that Stiles had retrieved for her.

"Put this on," Scott instructed.

He decided that it would be best to put the injured arm through the arm-hole first, before pulling it over her head, Carter shoving her uninjured arm through the hole. The shirt soon covered all of the wounds and making it so the two of them could slide back onto the bus without suspicion.

Scott gently placed the strap of their bags on his shoulder, allowing Carter's arm to drape across his shoulders before he placed his across hers. The two hobbled out of the bathroom, both of them glancing toward each other to a make sure they were both still okay. Once outside, Lydia and Allison quickly rushed over.

"Are you two okay?" Lydia asked quickly, taking the bags off of Scott's shoulder.

Allison immediately trying to wrap Carter's left shoulder around her, but when she lifted her arm up, Carter recoiled away and hissed in pain. Allison held her hands up in defense, hearing Carter mumbling something about that being her bad shoulder.

"Stiles," Scott said, "Where's Stiles?"

"Trying to stall Coach," Lydia explained. "We still don't have gas."

"I'm not leaving them," Allison stated firmly, knowing that she'll ride the bus is she had to.

"Then we have to leave the car."

"Sounds good."

As they hobbled over, Carter glanced over only to notice a large group of students were surrounding a tree, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A familiar red jacket was seen through the crowd, the four of them made their way over to Stiles.

"Stiles, what's happening?" Scott asked in confusion, none of them being able to see clearly through the crowd of people shouting.

"They went after him," Stiles began, seeming just as confused as they were. "I told him what was happening to you and Carter, and he just went after him."

"Who, Boyd?" Scott asked frantically.

Carter instantly stepped away from Scott, a familiar wave of warmth came over her and she knew that it wasn't Boyd. She shoved her way through the crowd, fully prepared to access the ability Deucalion said she had locked up somewhere inside her subconscious mind.

"Isaac, Isaac, Isaac!" Coach tried to somehow convince Isaac to stop, but he was having none of it. Carter watched as Coach and Danny grab at the teen, his werewolf strength was too much for them to control. He broke out of their hold and lunged toward an already bloodied Ethan, slamming his knuckles against the side of his jaw.

"Isaac!" Carter bellowed, the overwhelming tremor in her voice caused something inside of Isaac snap.

As soon as her voice sounded, Isaac instantly pulled away from Ethan, allowing his body to crumple to the ground. Isaac kept his eyes to the ground; he shyly peered up to meet Carter's eyes. Her eyes were ablaze - something about the way her eyes flashed a deep scarlet-orange caused Isaac to let out small whimper and back away from them.

"Carter, your eyes," Scott whispered in her ear, Carter immediately began to blink, not entirely understanding what Scott meant. He reached out before pulling Carter's head into his chest. "Your eyes are glowing."

And things were about to get stranger.

○ ○ ○

Carter found her hand slowly wrapping around Scott's, her fingers intertwining with his. Scott glanced over toward her, smiling softly.

"You know," Carter began. "If he's really dead, it's not your fault."

Scott looked back down, the same solemn expressing crossing his face. Carte could tell that Derek's supposed death was eating away at him, the guilt becoming almost too much to bare. Carter understood completely; but she didn't share it, because she knew deep down Derek wasn't dead. Everything inside her - instincts, emotions, blood cells, nerves - they were all hardwired to know when someone she was linked to was dead, but she didn't feel anything but the pain of her wounds.

"Maybe," Scott mumbled, not seeming entirely sure of her words. He was silent for a moment before glancing back toward Carter. "Did you hear what I said right before you woke up?" Carter nodded. "I meant it when I said that I would lose my mind and go crazy without you. I need you in my life." Scott squeezed her hand tightly. "And the decision I made about developing a relationship with you, it was the best decision I've made in a long time."

Carter felt a different heat creep up on her, a smile formed on her lips.

○ ○ ○

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