𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙀
ミ★ ( clairvoyant, act one ) ★彡

     Garrison Meyers didn't make it through the night. He had succumbed to his wounds according to Sheriff Stilinski, and he didn't go peacefully; since he sadly died in a lot of pain. Scott didn't take the news lightly and after he was informed, he went to confront Derek Hale since he was so sure that it was Derek that killed the bus driver. It wasn't until the next morning at school, where Scott finally came to the conclusion that it wasn't Derek—because Derek wasn't the alpha that turned him.

     They were in class, with Scott seated in front of Stiles. Scott was watching curiously as the teacher starts passing out graded tests, but Stiles is more distracted by the updates to the werewolf situation that Scott has just given him. He thinks for a moment before finally tapping Scott on the shoulder and beginning his questions, "If Derek isn't the alpha—if he's not the one who bit you... then, who did?"

     Scott bites his lip for a long moment before he answers in a quiet voice, shaking his head and shrugging, "I don't know."

     Stiles sighs and sits back in his seat for the briefest moment before thinking of another question and leaning forward, gently smacking Scott in the back with the back of his right hand, "Did the alpha kill the bus driver?"

Scott thinks again for a long moment before whispering his reply quietly, "I don't know."

Stiles sits back in his seat, gnawing on his lower lip as he thinks. Rory can see that he's not satisfied by Scott's answers. He finally sighs and leans forward to ask another question, "Does Allison's dad know about the alpha?"

Scott feels helpless. He doesn't know any of the answers to Stiles' questions and he finally loses his temper a little and replies in a loud tone of voice, "I don't know!" The other students turn around to look at Scott, and Scott tries to play it off by looking out the window as Stiles sits back in his seat. Scott mutters defensively under his breath as he taps his pencil against the desk, "Jeez..."

Stiles is then handed back his test and is satisfied by the A grade he received, written on his page in a thick red ink. However, Scott sighs loudly when he's handed his, which has a D- branded on it, along with a message that says, "Not like you! See me after class."

Rory winces at the grade. The last time she got one of those was freshman year when it came to maths and she cried for a week straight, afraid she was going to get grounded for it. She then begged her teacher to retake the test, where she was given a satisfactory C+. From what she had gathered, Scott wasn't the best at school and needed a lot of help.

Stiles leans forward to look at it and mutters sarcastically over Scott's shoulder, "Dude, you need to study more!" Scott slams his test down on his desk and shoots Stiles a look, causing Stiles to scoff defensively, "That was a joke. Scott, it's one test! You're gonna make it up. Do you want help studying?"

Scott sighs and looks straight at his desk, "No, I'm studying with Allison after school today."

Rory grimaces in disgust, "Yeah, I'm sure they're going to be studying." She mutters sarcastically. They'd be studying on how to swap spit, more like.

Stiles smiles suggestively and pats him on the back with a proud expression, "That's my boy!"

"We're just studying." Scott insists pointedly.

Stiles scoffs, "Uh, no, you're not."

Scott frowns in confusion, "No, I'm not?" He repeats, unsure of what Stiles means by that. What does he mean by no, he's not just studying?

Stiles scoffs in exasperation, as though it's obvious as to what he's referring—Scott and Allison hooking up—before replying, "Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you! If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I swear to God, I'll have you de-balled."

"Stiles!" Rory scolds when she sees the look on Scott's face, the boy now feeling the pressure to hook up with Allison. He wants to, he's just not sure he's ready to.

Scott sighs and nods his head, clearly too exhausted to argue with him, "Okay. Just... stop with the questions, man."

Stiles nods too, "Done. No more questions. No more talk about the alpha, or Derek..." Stiles trails off, his eyes going unfocused as he remembers his last interaction with the latter, "Especially Derek... who still scares me..."

The end of the day couldn't of come quick enough and Stiles pushed his way through the front doors to the school with a large crowd of students, and heads to where he parked his Jeep in the lot. He gets into his vehicle, taking off his backpack and throwing it in the backseat before he pulls out of his spot and gets ready to head home for the day with Rory in the passenger seat next to him on their way to look for more answers. Suddenly, Derek appears right in front of him, weakly holding up his uninjured arm to get Stiles' attention, "Stiles, look out!" Rory shouts as she points at Derek's sickly form in front of the car.

Stiles barely hits the brakes in time to avoid hitting him, causing him to groan in surprise, "Oh, my God!"

Derek sways on his feet, his arm still raised while the two in the car looked at him in utter horror. He's pale and sickly—he looks worse than death. They're unsure what it is that made him end up that way—weren't werewolves supposed to have quickened healing?

Back near the school, Scott was in the process of unlocking the chain attaching his bike to the bike rack when he hears a ton of honking from other cars in the lot. He looks over and is horrified to see Derek still swaying in front of Stiles' stopped Jeep, causing a long line of cars to build up behind him in their own attempts to get home. Scott groans and mutters under his breath as well, "Oh, no, no, no! No, not here!"

He runs toward Stiles' Jeep just as Derek's legs give out from under him and cause him to collapse onto the pavement in front of Stiles' stalled car. Stiles throws up his arms in exasperation, "You've gotta be kidding me. This guy's everywhere!" Horns continue to honk loudly, and Stiles turns around and notices the long line of cars that is now bottlenecked behind his stopped car.

To make matters worse, other students who are milling around outside of the school are starting to watch the scene unfold in front of them as well. Scott finally makes it to Stiles' car and throws up his own arms as he speaks to Stiles through his open window, "What the hell?" Instead of waiting for his answer, Scott rushes over to where Derek has collapsed and kneels down next to him, and Stiles gets out of his car to follow after him, "What are you doing here?"

Derek pants weakly as he answers, "I was shot."

Stiles does another once over on the older werewolf male and winces in disgust, "He's not looking so good, dude..."

Scott frowns in confusion as he finally takes in Derek's state, "Why aren't you healing?" He asks when he notices the fresh bullet wound that wasn't closing up.

     Derek groans in pain, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment, "I can't. It was—it was a different kind of bullet." He's clearly weak that he can't bring himself to speak louder than a whisper, and Rory looks at him with concern.

      Stiles suddenly gets excited, "What, a silver bullet?"

      Derek is able to fight through the pain long enough to shoot Stiles an irritated, bitchy expression, "No, you idiot—"

      Scott suddenly puts together what he's seeing in front of him once he recalls a conversation that he overheard the night before, "Wait, wait—that's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours?"

      Stiles and Rory look at Scott with confusion since he hadn't brought that key piece of information up at all while Derek's eyes widen in alarm, "What? Who—who said forty-eight hours?"

       "The one who shot you." Suddenly, Derek is hit with a powerful wave of pain that causes his eyes to flash bright blue, and he grimaces in agony. When he opens his eyes again, they're continuing to flash back and forth between his werewolf eyes and his human green eyes. Scott looks horrified, his eyes darting around to make sure no one is watching before he mutters at Derek forcefully, "What are you doing? Stop that!"

     Derek shakes his head as his voice takes on an impatient tone. Behind them, cars are starting to honk even more urgently at how long this is taking, "I'm trying to tell you—I can't."

     Scott puts his hands on Derek's shoulders and looks him intently in the eyes, "Derek, get up!" The cars continue to honk their horns impatiently, and even Allison, who is amongst them, is frowning at the hold-up before getting out of her car to see what is going on. Jackson follows suit, so Scott, seeing this, pulls Derek to his feet, calling out to Stiles for assistance, "Help me get him in your car."

      They get Derek in the passenger seat, and once Scott shuts the door, Derek turns toward him, "I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used."

      Scott scoffs incredulously, "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

      "'Cause she's an Argent. She's with them." Derek implies about Allison.

     Scott gives Derek a look, "Why should I help you?"

      Derek is genuinely scared at his chances of survival, and he tries to reason with him in a weak voice, "Because you need me."

      Scott looks over and sees a confused Allison walking toward them, and decides to wrap up this scene as quickly as possible with a sigh, "Fine. I'll try." Scott turns to look at Stiles, who has just climbed into the driver's seat and whose expression makes it clear that he's feeling very put-out at the moment; whereas Rory places herself in the backseat since her spot was taken now, "Hey, get him out of here."

      Stiles shoots Scott a death-glare, "I hate you for this so much." Stiles puts the car into drive and sets off just as Allison comes up, frowning in confusion and concern at the way Stiles' Jeep flies out of the parking lot after being stationary for so long.

Five minutes into the car ride, Stiles looks over at the werewolf in disgust at the way he's hunched over in the passenger seat looking like he's about to die of blood loss, "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there."

Derek can't even bring his head up to ask, "Almost where?"

"Your house." Stiles answers like it's obvious.

Derek grows more alarmed and alert than he just was at Stiles' idea, "What? No, you can't take me there."

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles responds with a scoff.

"Not when I can't protect myself!" Derek retorts with pursed lips.

Rory grimaces, "Not to mention, it's filthy and that wound will get infected if he goes there." She adds on.

Stiles quickly pulls over and stops the car, turning his body to face Derek with annoyance over his face, "Alright. What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?"

Derek pants, "Not yet. I have a last resort." He informs him.

Confusion grows on Stiles' face, "What do you mean? What last resort?" Derek doesn't answer, he just lists up his shirt sleeve to show the wound where the bullet went through in his forearm. Stiles gags immediately at the sight, "Oh, my God. What is that?"

Rory gags, "Oh, that's foul."

Stiles groans once more while Derek digs around the wound, "Oh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out." His nose turns up, looking away from the wound.

"Start the car. Now." Derek orders with a growl.

"Start the car, Stiles." Rory agrees as she can't seem to look away from the bullet wound.

Stiles shakes his head, "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."

Derek looks over at Stiles with a harsh glare as he growls out, "Start the car... or I'm gonna rip your throat out... with my teeth."

Rory's eyes widened in alarm by the threat. She can tell he means it and she says again. She swallows thickly, keeping her eyes on Derek as she says, "Start the car, Stiles."

With that, Stiles quickly starts the car.

Stiles had been spam calling Scott ever since they took off. He's not happy about the arrangement that Stiles needs to be the one to take care of Derek, especially at a time like this. Now, he's even more not happy about the fact that Scott isn't answering his damn phone. It isn't until the seventh time he's called that Scott picks up.

"What am I supposed to do with him?" Stiles asks his best friend while driving aimlessly around town, no destination in mind or in sight at that very moment.

"Take him somewhere—anywhere." Scott instructs and Stiles rolls his eyes because that doesn't help answer his question.

Stiles' nose then scrunches when a rancid smell hits his nose and his eyes follow the trail to Derek in the passenger seat, "And, by the way, he's starting to smell." He tells him while side-eyeing Derek.

"Like—like what?" Scott asks in confusion.

"Like death." Stiles hisses before gagging slightly and opening the window further even though there wasn't a breeze to blow it away. The stench only stayed. Rory is glad that she can't smell because the look on Stiles' face was enough to tell her that it was bad—and from the state of Derek, she believes that to be true.

"Okay. Take him to the animal clinic." Scott decides.

"What about your boss?" Stiles asks. He's not exactly as close to his boss as Scott is, and it would be extremely alarming to see him dragging in some adult man that looks as if he's on the verge of death.

"He's gone by now." Scott assures him, "There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster."

Stiles only huffs as he looks at Derek, "You're not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you." He comments.

Derek glares at the human boy and snatches the phone from his hand to talk to Scott, "Did you find it?"

"How am I supposed to find one bullet? They have a million!" Scott snaps in frustration and stress, "This house is like the frickin' Walmart of guns!"

Derek lets out an exhale of pain, "Look, if you don't find it, then I'm dead, alright?"

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

     Derek growls in annoyance at Scott's stubbornness, "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 snaps, hanging up the phone.

Thankfully, they reached the animal clinic quickly, and Derek was becoming increasingly worse. He's pale and sickly, and he can barely hold himself up. Stiles looks for the spare keys to the clinic and unlocks the roller door, leading them to the back area where the back door is, and Derek plops himself down on a pile of packaged dog food when Stiles gets a text from Scott, "Does Northern Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?"

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane." Derek says and his breath catches knowing the severity of the situation. It's rare, and who knew how many the hunters had left, "He has to bring me the bullet."

     "Why?" Stiles asks.

     Derek lets out a weak pant, "Because I'm gonna die without it."

     Stiles' eyes widen now because if he does die, then there's a good chance he'll get blamed for the murder, so as much as he's terrified of Derek, he knows he needs to keep him alive. Stiles quickly unlocks the back door to the clinic and helps Derek up, who placed his hands on Stiles' shoulder to help stabilise him as they walked inside.

     They stumble in and Stiles turns the light on, gagging as Derek takes his shirt off to reveal his wound on his forearm that was bleeding and had dark veins travelling up his arm to his shoulder, "Okay, you know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of..."

     Rory grimaces, "That infection looks like the type of thing that started the plague." She comments.

     Derek pants as he places his arm on the steel table, "When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me."

      "Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles exasperates while Derek looks in the cupboards for supplies.

      "If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time—last resort..." Derek continues looking while he struggles for breath.

     "Which is?" Stiles questions with annoyance.

     Suddenly, Derek holds up a saw, "You're gonna cut off my arm."

     Rory could only gulp as Derek places the saw on the table and pushes it towards Stiles, "That can't be a good idea." She shakes her head. She can't even look at the device because she pictures Stiles trying to cut through flesh and bone and it makes her sick—which she didn't even think was possible.

     Stiles groans as he picks it up and accidentally presses the on button, dropping it immediately, "Oh, my God." He flinches, "What if you bleed to death?"

     Derek then starts to make a tourniquet with some blue tape around his arm, ending it just below his shoulder as the veins continue to grow upwards. It's now or never and Derek doesn't have the luxury to wait for Scott and the bullet anymore, "It'll heal... if it works..."

     Stiles sighs and shakes his head in disgust, wanting to vomit at the thought of what they're about to do, "Ugh. Look, I don't know if I can do this."

      "Why not?" Derek questions impatiently, tying off the tape nice and tight to cut off blood flow.

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

      Derek stood what he was doing and drops his arm onto the table, "You faint at the sight of blood?" He asks incredulously.

     Stiles blinks at him for the fact that he thinks it's that childish, "No, but, I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!" He exclaims.

      Rory nods her head in agreement, "I'm with you on that one, Stiles." She shudders in disgust. She's now all for letting Derek die if that means she won't have to watch something right out of Saw.

Derek sighs, "Alright, fine. How about this—either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head." He threatens.

Stiles holds up his hand at him and scoffs, "Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats any—" Suddenly, Derek grabs him by the collar and roughly pulls him forward, causing Rory to jump at how quickly it happened while Stiles gasps, "Oh, my God! Okay. Alright. Bought. Sold. Totally. I'll do it. I'll do it." He agrees quickly. His eyebrows then pull together when he notices Derek's usual angry face turn into something else, "What? What are you doing?"

Derek then leans his head over and pukes up a pool of black blood, Rory steps away from the splash zone even though it won't touch her; it's just reflex at this point, "Oh, my God! What is that!?"

Stiles winces and gags at the sight also, "Holy God, what the hell is that?"

Derek groans over the table, not having the strength to hold himself up, "It's my body... trying to heal itself..."

Rory looks down at the black vomit and grimaces, "Well, it's not doing a very good job of it." She comments.

"Now." Derek whispers urgently to Stiles, "You gotta do it now."

Stiles begins to panic immediately knowing it's go time and makes eye contact with Rory momentarily for help, even though she can't do anything about it, "Look, honestly, I don't think I can—"

"Just do it!" Derek yells impatiently.

Stiles immediately grabs the saw, "Oh, my God." He panics and Rory turns around to close her eyes and cover her ears when Stiles presses the on button again; hoping that maybe it might've broken in the short time he last turned it on, "Okay, okay..."

"Stiles, I can't watch!" Rory squeals.

Stiles lines the saw up with Derek's arm where the tourniquet was, "Oh, my God.... alright, here we go!" He yells to them both, hoping it would hype himself into doing it or someone would yell at him to stop.

Just as he was about to press the on button, they all hear Scott call out, "Stiles?" Stiles stops what he was doing and Scott runs into the room like an angel in a zip up jumper to them all, Stiles could almost kiss him. Scott halts when he sees the saw on Derek's arm and the way Stiles looks frazzled, "What the hell are you doing!?"

Stiles lets out a nervous chuckle of relief as he puts down the saw, and Rory finally gains the courage to turn back around when she's sure that there wasn't going to be an arm on the table but the body somewhere else, "Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares!"

Nightmares was putting it lightly because she's sure they were going to need some serious mental help if they had to watch that, "Did you get it?" Derek asks Scott eagerly.

Scott reaches into his pocket and hands Derek the bullet. Derek holds it up to look at it, "What are you gonna do with it?" Stiles asks him. He was so adamant that he needs the bullet, now he just wonders why.

"I'm gonna—" Derek starts to say weakly but his eyes begin to droop, "I'm gonna—"

Derek faints and drops the bullet, sending the thing rolling off the table and clattering onto the ground before rolling into the drain despite Scott diving after it.

"Derek?" Stiles goes to the unconscious werewolf and shakes him, slapping his face lightly, "Derek! Derek, come on, wake up!" Stiles turns to his friend, "Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?"

Scott tries to continue trying to get the bullet out from the drain, but it's just far enough that he just can't reach it, "I don't know! I can't reach it!" He strains anxiously.

"He's not waking up..." Rory frowns, "I think he's dying."

"I—I think he's dead!" Stiles yells while Scott continues getting the bullet.

"Just hold on!" Scott yells before focusing back onto the task at hand, "Come on..." He feels his nails grow and he can now pick up the bullet with his fingers, and his eyes widen when it's out of the drain, "Oh! I got it! I got it!"

Scott runs over to Stiles and Derek and the human boy shakes his head at himself, Please don't kill me for this." He mutters before making a fist and pulling his arm back, punching Derek in the face before he could think twice, "Ow!" He yells, feeling the pain in his knuckles and shaking his hand right as Derek wakes up.

Stiles gets away from him and Derek looks at Scott with the bullet in his hand, "Give me that." He orders and he helps Derek off of the ground while Stiles still complains about the pain in his hand.

Derek bites open the bullet and pours out the wolfsbane onto the table, making sure to tap out every last fibre of it before he grabs a lighter and sets it alight. It sparks up like mini fireworks, causing the boys to jump back slightly, and once it dies down, leaving a blue fiery smoke in its wake, Derek scoops it up into his hand before taking in a deep breath and placing it directly onto his wound.

The older werewolf makes sure to push it in with his finger and plug it in to get the full effect while he screams out in pain and stumbles back, falling to the ground.

Rory watches on with wide eyes as a growl rips from his throat while Derek writhes in pain. Her eyes widen further as she watches the dark veins retract and the wound heals completely.

There was silence among them while they processed what just happened before Stiles then says, "That was... awesome!" They looked at him strangely, but Stiles didn't care, "Yes!"

"Stiles, not the time." Rory tells him.

Scott turns to Derek, who sits up, "Are you okay?"

"Well, except for the agonising pain..." Derek replies sarcastically.

"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health..." Stiles comments and Rory rolls her eyes. He needs to learn that now that Derek is in good health again, he can still easily kick his ass.

Stiles' mouth clamps shut when Derek glares at him, and he almost takes a step back, proving Rory's inner thoughts, "Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone. You got that?" Scott tells him, "And, if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gonna tell him everything—"

"You're gonna trust them?" Derek asks, completely appalled by what he just heard come out of his mouth, "You think they can help you?"

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

Derek's jaw clenches in anger, "I can show you exactly how nice they are."

"What do you mean?" Scott asks, completely unaware of what he's gotten himself into.