{1.1}

"Feeling Faint." 

***

"How long have we been here? Do you think Scott got shot?" 

 Ollie was slumped lazily on the floor next to Stiles, as Derek angrily stumble-paced like a drunk person. His arm was slung over his knees, and he was beginning to grow concerned for his friend's safety after the phone went silent. So now, the two friends were focusing on keeping an eye on Derek as Ollie's anxiety slowly began to kick in. "Do you think Allison would shoot Scott?" 

 "I'm gonna shoot Scott if he doesn't show up soon." 

"Hey, not funny." 

 Derek groaned again, leaning against the table and screwing his eyes shut in pain, his hand clenching. Oliver rolled his eyes, "can you shut up?" 

 "We don't have much time."  

 "Yeah, we can see that without all of the sound effects." 

 The boy shot up from the ground, deciding that if he didn't move soon he would actually explode. He paced back and forth across the room, anxiously tugging at his curls and muttering under his breath. Stiles watched cautiously, his eyes following Ollie as he paced to make sure he didn't punch something. Stiles could hear him chanting something in Spanish, but he was talking too fast to make out anything that actually passed through his lips. "Um, Ols?" 

 He received no response, so he rolled his eyes. "Ollie?"

"What if the crazy gun lady actually did shoot him?" Oliver stressed, his heart beat picking up. 

 "Then we call the paramedics and blame it on Derek!" Stiles winced when the man himself shot him a harsh look. "Sorry."  

 Oliver continued to pace. He wasn't someone who got nervous a lot, but the combined stress of everything that has been going on in his life is pressing down on his shoulders like a hot iron. He was thankful that he didn't have his baseball bat, as he would probably hit something with it if he did. 

 Derek watched with thoughtful eyes as Oliver held up his hand as if he was going to slap Stiles, and the boy lazily swatted it away. "Come here." 

 "What?" The Spanish boy turned to Derek, his face twisted in a scowl. The man winced again, and Ollie was tempted to just cut off his arm to get him to stop, but instead, he just walked closer when Derek beckoned him. "Jesus! What the hell do you want?" 

 "You want to know if Scott is okay?" 

 "No I have just been stressing out because I-" 

 Derek cut him off with a glare. "Shut up. If you want to know if Scott is okay," he lifted his arm closer to the boy, who stepped away, earning an exasperated eye-roll. "Touch the bullet." 

 "I would rather make out with Jackson than touch that damn thing," he snapped, eyeing the bloody wound cautiously. "Are you actually on cocaine?"

 "You said you wanted to figure out what was wrong with you," Derek grunted, his words tight with pain. "Touch the bullet." 

 Oliver could feel the 'what the fuck' look that Stiles was staring at him with, and swallowed, staring directly at Derek's arm. Stiles seemed to sense that he was actually contemplating it, and scrambled over to his friend, grabbing his arm. "Dude, you're gonna get some sort of STD if you touch that!" 

 He paused, "oh, and what is wrong with you?" 

 "I am having some insomnia issues." 

 Derek snorted, although even that was laced with pain. 

 Stiles's eyes widened, looking between Oliver and Derek. "Hey! Did you guys talk about creepy werewolf shit without me?" He gasped, gripping Oliver's tightly and staring at him so intensely that Oliver was surprised he didn't die. "Are you a werewolf?" 

 "Damn, Stiles, I wish." 

 "Are  you a vampire? Jesus Christ, is my life turning into Twilight?" He look horrified,  "Am I Bella?" 

 "You are not Bella!" Ollie snapped, smacking his hand away and rolling his eyes. "Dude, you know you're a Quil." 

 Derek's eyebrows furrowed, "what?" 

 "Nothing!" 

 Oliver continued to stare at the bullet wound, which was beginning to make Stiles nauseous. "If I touch that.... is it gonna happen again?" 

 "Is what gonna hap-?" 

 Derek cut Stiles off, his words blunt, but his tone certain. "Yes." 

 "So you do know what is wrong with me?" 

 "Dude, what's wro-?"  

 "Yes." 

 "Is it potentially dangerous and, or, life-threatening?" 

 "Is what-?" 

 "Yes." 

Stiles almost screamed in frustration, but settled in walking back over to the wall and sliding down it until he was sitting again, burying his face in his knees. "I give up." 

Under different circumstances, Ollie would have smiled. Instead, he just took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt to calm his racing nerves. He reached his shaking hand up, hesitated for a moment, before squeezing his hand shut and lowering it to Derek's skin. 

 As soon as his fingers brushed the metal of the bullet embedded in the man's arm, his body stiffened and his eyes flew open, although he didn't see the room. 

 Instead, he saw Scott. He saw Scott and that is it, although the one picture was enough to frighten him. Because Scott... well, Scott looked terrified.  His hand was in his pocket and his eyes were the size of Saturn, sweat beading at his forehead. 

 Ollie's eyes flew open, gasping for air that he had and almost falling directly into Derek. Thankfully, Stiles had jumped to his feet and rushed forward, allowing Ollie to lean some of his body weight onto him as he coughing and closed his eyes, his knees weak. Stiles blanched, "What? What the- what the hell was that?" 

 "A vision," Derek spoke like the word like it meant nothing. "A physical one... I've never seen that before." 

 "God Damn," Ollie blew a breath from between his lips, his hand gripping Stiles's sweater so tightly he was surprised it didn't rip. "Can it like... stop?" 

 "Maybe you should go to Scott, and then I'll answer that question." 

 ***

 Oliver knocked on the door of Allison's house a few minutes later. He had rushed there as fast as he could, although it took longer than it should have, given that he argued with Stiles for five minutes about leaving him alone with Derek, and drove as slow as he usually does. Nevertheless, when the door opened, he was sure the Argent family was nothing short of confused. 

 Because there he was, a sweating, out of breath, terrified looking teenage boy at there door, trying his absolute best to look nonchalant. He smiled at Allison, who opened the door. "Hi there, is Scott here." 

 "Thank God for you, Ollie," she mumbled under his breath, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion, his anxiety spiking, before he realized that all there was to fear here was a shit-load of awkward family tension. 

 He recognized crazy-gun-lady standing by the stairs, her cheeks dusted red and her gaze directed at the ground, while the hunter-dad-dude looked like he couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or livid. Scott's face was as red as a firetruck, but his posture relaxed when he saw Ollie. "Ollie-" 

 The boy, since he was unbelievably relieved that his friend was alive, actually laughed aloud. "Scott thank God you're a-" 

 He cleared his throat, catching himself. "A... available... right now..." he winced, running his hand through his hair. "We need to go." 

 "Who's this?" Crazy-gun-lady asked, her tone so pinched that Oliver could barely hear the words. He smiled, hoping that the charming effect he usually has on parents works on psychos as well. 

 "Hello, Miss Argent, I'm Scott's friend." 

 "This is... this is Oliver." Allison bit her lip as Ollie tried to figure out what the hell just happened in this room. "He goes to our school." 

 "And I would love to stay and chat, but Scott actually has to get down to the animal shelter... we have an injured dog that needs taken care of." 

 "Do you work at the... clinic as well, Oliver?" The hunter/dad asked, and Ollie bit his lip, deciding that it didn't matter if he lied to these people, since they shot Derek. "Yep. I love animals." He scrambled for something to say that sounded vaguely smart. "I have a... cat. Okay, bye!" 

 He immediately turned around, grabbing Scott by the arm and dragging him out of the house, and into the cool, fresh air. Neither of the boys said anything as Scott shoved his bike into the backseat, and Ollie started the car. Once they started to drive, Ollie began to speak at the speed of light. 

 "Holy shit, dude, I had another one of those weird-ass vision things, and I saw you and you looked really scared, so I came as fast as I could- what happened?" 

 "I almost got caught," the brunet explained, pulling the bullet out of his pocket so that Ollie could see. "Thankfully, Allison helped me out." 

 "Yeah, what the fuck was that?" He laughed lightly, although it was strained and still laced with anxiety. "It was as awkward as the day I got adopted in there." 

 Scott blushed again, a pleased smile in his face as he sunk into his seat. 

 "Like I said, Allison helped me out. Now drive faster." 

 *** 

 "Thank God you're here!" 

 The first thing that Ollie saw when they walked back into the clinic, was Stiles with a knife to Derek's arm. Before either of the boys could even say anything, Stiles caught sight of them and dropped the knife, a disbelieving laugh leaving his laugh as he ran over to them. "You just prevented a life time of nightmares!" 

 He grabbed Ollie's face, "I could kiss you!" 

 "Please don't." 

 "Here," Scott handed Derek the bullet, his face paling at the sight of his arm, which was looking less than healthy. He raised an eyebrow. "What are you gonna do with it?" 

 "I'm gonna-" Derek muttered, his voice weak. He swayed lightly on his feet, his words slurring. "I'm gonna-" 

 Before he could finish his sentence, he promptly collapsed onto the ground, making all three boys jump and yell there own versions of confused curse words. "No, no, no!" Scott yelled, diving on the ground to peer down the vent that the bullet had supposedly fallen into. Ollie and Stiles knelt down next to Derek's unconscious form, the former making a conscious effort to not actually touch him. "Shit!" 

 "I can't reach it!" 

 "Derek?" Stiles poked the man, swallowing as Ollie's anxiety spiked right back up. Derek couldn't die, he had to tell him what was wrong with him! "Derek!" 

 "Is he dead?" The curly haired boy demanded, his tone shaky. "Stiles is he dead?" 

 "I... I don't know!" 

 "Well don't wait for a heart monitor, dipshit! See if he's breathing!" 

 "I... I don't think he is! Is he? Ols, is he dead?" 

 "I don't fucking know!" 

 "Check!" 

 "I'm not touching him again!" 

Thankfully, he didn't have to, as Scott jumped up triumphantly, the bullet clutched in between his fingers. "I got it! I got it!" 

 "Please don't kill me for this," Stiles mumbled, and at first Ollie thought that he was talking to him. Instead, he surprised him by rearing back his fist and punching Derek directly in the face. Promptly jumping up and swearing, clutching his knuckles. 

 To both Ollie's disbelief and amusement, Derek's eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright, his chest heaving. 

Oliver didn't see what happened next, as he leaned back on the floor, slinging his arm over his eyes and sighing deeply, trying to calm his erratic nerves. "Oh thank the Lord." 

 "Are you okay?" 

 "Well aside from the agonizing pain-" 

 Ollie couldn't help but smile at the comment. Sarcasm was a good look on Derek... plus, it was a sure sign of good health, which is exactly what Stiles voice out loud. 

 "Okay, we saved your life... which means you have to leave us al-" 

 "Wait!" Oliver shot up, grabbing Derek's good arm before Scott could say anything else, and looking at him with a pleading look in his eyes. 

 "First you have to tell me what's wrong with me." 

 A/N: 

Ollie is so chaotic, I love it... and next chapter you will get more insight on what is 'wrong with him'!

 My new IT fic is coming out soon! It is a Stanley x O.C, since I spent basically that entire movie wanting to touch his hair... stay tuned for that, as it will be posted on Friday! I am on winter break, so expect more frequent updates!

 Thank you for all of your votes and comments, and hopefullt with this chapter, we can get to 100 votes! <3

 Thank you for reading, and I love you all!