The twins watched as Derek took a step forward before collapsing to the ground, Stiles making a choking noise as he ran his hand across his buzzcut. "You've gotta be kidding me, he's having a-"

He trailed off as students and parents began to honk their horns, Scott running over to them and smacking the driver's side door. "What the hell?"

"What are you-" Ryan watched in disbelief as Stiles got out of the car, joining Scott as he knelt next to Derek. "Really?"

"What are you doing here?" Scott hissed, his face full of panic as he looked Derek up and down.

"I was shot." Derek replied breathlessly, Ryan chewing on her nails as she looked back at all the cars beginning to line up.

"He's not looking so good, dude." Stiles pointed out, grimacing as he looked at Derek.

"Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"I can't. It was," Derek took a deep breath, growing paler by the second. "It was a different kind of bullet."

"A silver bullet?" Stiles asked, his eyes growing wide in more excitement than worry.

"No, you idiot." Derek growled, his sunken eyes giving Stiles an annoyed look. Ryan groaned and unbuckled her seatbelt, yanking open the door and running over to them.

"Wait, wait." Scott looked up at him in realization, turning Derek's attention away from his best friend. "That's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours."

"What?" He choked out, his pulse racing as he struggled to catch his breath. "Who-Who said forty-eight hours?"

"The one who shot you." Scott said, as if it was obvious.

"Guys, people are starting to freak out." Ryan hissed, jumping back when Derek let out a loud groan. He opened his eyes, flashing blue uncontrollably. "You know what sounds like a good idea? That not happening in the middle of the parking lot."

"What are you doing?" Scott looked around frantically as more people started to honk, drawing more and more attention to them. "Stop that!"

"I'm trying to tell you, I can't!" His eyes flickered, the  vivid blue contrasting with his pale skin and dark hair.

"Derek, get up." Scott ordered, Derek just looking more and more faint. Scott looked up at Stiles and Ryan, getting up and grabbing Derek from behind. "I'm putting him in your car."

Scott yanked him up, half dragging him towards the Jeep. He looked back at Ryan, nodding towards the backseat.

"What?" Ryan looked at him indignantly, her eyebrows raising as she crossed her arms. "I'm not sitting in the back, I always sit in the back."

"Ryan-"

"No."

•••

"I hate all of you." Ryan muttered as she slumped down in the backseat of the Jeep, her arms crossed in annoyance. "I hate it back here, it smells like feet."

"Shut up." Stiles threw his phone in the center console, looking over at Derek. "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Derek's voice was barely audible, his face covered with a thin layer of sweat.

"Your house." Stiles sighed, keeping his eyes on the road.

"What?" Derek looked up, the look of fear seeming almost misplaced, like it didn't belong on his face. "You can't take me there."

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles was growing irritated, a sarcastic chuckle leaving his lips.

"Not when I can't protect myself." He replied, Stiles's jaw clenching. He suddenly pulled over to the curb, the abruptness making Ryan fall over in the back.

"All right." Stiles put the car in park, turning and looking at him. "What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?"

"Not yet." Derek shook his head, his breathing ragged. "I have a last resort."

"What do you mean, what last resort?" Stiles asked, gagging when Derek pulled up his sleeve. Stiles looked away, bringing his hand to his forehead. "Oh, my god. What is that?"

"Jesus, is that contagious?" Ryan pinched her nose, suddenly missing the smell of dirty socks. It was exactly how she would expect a dead animal to smell like, the girl leaning as far away as possible. "Can we please just leave him here?"

"Yeah, you should probably just get out." Stiles shook his head, giving him a look of disgust.

"Start the car." Derek said, his voice low. "Now."

"I don't think you should be barking orders-"

"Barking." Ryan snickered quietly, taking joy in the irony.

"-with the way you look, okay?" Stiles ignored his sister, looking Derek up and down. "In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

"Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out. With my teeth." Derek said, his voice almost monotone at how serious he was. Stiles stared at him in shock for a moment before grabbing the steering wheel and turning on the engine.

"That was just a tad aggressive." Ryan muttered, still sitting as far away as possible from Derek.

•••

"What are we supposed to do with him?" Stiles asked, gritting his teeth.

"I don't know, take him somewhere, anywhere."

"And by the way, he's starting to smell." Stiles groaned, Ryan leaning over the seat.

"Really, really bad!" Ryan yelled into the phone, making Stiles flinch away from her voice. "Sorry bub."

"Like what?"

"Like death." Stiles whispered, Derek's jaw clenching at he glared at him.

"Okay, take him to the animal clinic."

"What about your boss?" Stiles asked, his head moving back so that he formed an extra chin.

"He should be gone by now. There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster."

"You're not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you." Stiles sighed, holding out the phone to Derek.

"Did you find it?" Derek asked, his eyes barely open as he spoke into the phone.

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

"Look if you don't find it then I'm dead, all right?" He pressed, Ryan raising her eyebrows at Stiles.

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

"Then think about this." Derek's tone of voice changed, becoming more intimidating. "The alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet."

He hung up and threw the phone at Stiles, hitting him in the forehead. Ryan covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, her brother rubbing his head and glaring at her in the rear view mirror as he started the car back up.

It took them about ten minutes to get to the animal clinic, the three of them getting out and walking around to the back. Stiles gestured towards the dumpster, giving Ryan a suggestive look.

"No." Ryan shook her head, sliding her arm around Derek's back to support him and making the same gesture. "You can dig around behind the dumpster, I'll watch the big bad wolf."

"Whatever." Stiles scoffed, using the lighting from his phone to navigate around.

"Maybe we should just have him blow and blow until he knocks the door down." Ryan suggested, Derek glaring down at her. She held up her free hand in defense, a non apologetic look on her face. "Trying to lighten the mood."

"Got it." Stiles held up the key, moving to unlock the door. He slid it up, the metal screeching as it opened.
Ryan helped Derek inside, dropping him onto a pile of dog food bags and wiping at her sleeve in disgust. "Does Nordic Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?"

"It's a rare form of wolf..." Derek sighed and shook his head, holding his arm. "He has to bring me the bullet."

"Why?"

"Cause I'm gonna die without it." Derek breathed, looking up at them. Stiles looked over at Ryan with wide eyes, his sister staring back with a 'really?' look.

"He's said that about three times, why do you look more and more shocked each time he says it?" She questioned, Stiles wiping the shocked look off his face. "Let's get into the actual building before anyone sees us, and asks why we are breaking into the local vet clinic with a dying werewolf ."

"Good point." Stiles opened the door to the examination room, Ryan extending her hand for Derek. He grabbed it, pulling himself up and beginning to take off his shirt. He turned on the lights, Derek stumbling in and laying his arm on the table. "You know that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn't take care of."

"Are you kidding me? Look at it." Ryan frowned in distaste, looking up at Derek. "No offense."

"None taken." He gulped, breathing heavily. "Once it reaches my heart, it'll kill me."

"Positivity just into in your guy's vocabulary, is it?" Stiles asked, watching as Derek began to search through the cupboards.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time," Derek pulled open a drawer, examining the contents. "Last resort."

"Which is?"

"You're gonna cut off my arm." He said, holding up a bone saw. Ryan covered her mouth to stop from gagging at the thought, sharing a panicked look with her brother.

Derek slid the saw across the table, Stiles picking it up and pressing down the button. His stomach lurched at the sound of the saw, shaking his head.

"Oh my god." He dropped it, the two of them watching as Derek tied a rubber band around his arm. "What if you bleed to death?"

"It'll heal if it works." Derek said nonchalantly, his teeth holding part of the band.

"Look, I don't know if I can't do this." Stiles frowned, staring at his arm with an uneasy expression.

"Why not?"

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the saving of the bone and especially the blood!" His voice cracked, Derek slamming his hand down on the counter and glaring at him.

"You faint at the sight of blood?" His voice raised slightly, Ryan wondering with they would notice if she just slowly back out of the office and left.

"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!" Stiles cried out, rubbing his head.

"All right fine, how about this?" Derek suggested, looking over at Ryan who was had been slowly inching towards the door. "Either one of you cut off my arm, or I cut off your heads."

"Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats anymo-" Stiles stopped his words as Derek reached forward and grabbed the neck of his shirt, yanking him over the table. "Oh my god, okay. All right, bought. Totally, I'll do it."

"What are you doing?" Ryan asked, watching Derek stumble a little. Her eyes widened as he hunched over, vomiting black blood all over the ground.

"Holy God, what the hell is that?" Stiles whined, gesturing towards the puddle as Derek breathed heavily.

"It's my body, trying to heal itself." Derek gasped between his words, griping the metal table.

"Well you need to have a conversation with your body, because that does not look like healing." Ryan tried to look anywhere but the vomit, taking everything in her not to puke. She was a sympathy vomiter, the side effect of growing up with a kid who would literally eat anything no matter how sick it made him.

"Now, you gotta do it now." Derek lied his head on the table, sticking his arm out.

"Look honestly, I don't think I can-"

"Just do it!" Derek yelled, Stiles grabbing the saw. Ryan closed her eyes and stuck her fingers in her ears, trying to block out every sound and visual she possibly could.

"Oh god. All right, here we go!"  Stiles lined up the saw with his bicep, trying not to cry.

"Stiles? Ryan?" Scott's voice called out from the back of the shop, making Ryan open her eyes.

"Scott?"

"What the hell are you doing?" Scott yelled, appalled by the sight that he was met with when he entered the room. It did look pretty bad, vomit on the floor, Ryan starting to look a little green, and Stiles holding a damn bone saw to Derek's arm.

"Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares." Stiles laughed in relief, dropping the saw and backing away from the table.

"Did you get it?" Derek asked, Scott reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bullet. He handed it to Derek, who held it up and stared at it for a moment.

"What are you gonna do with it?" Stiles asked, clearing his throat.

"I'm gonna.." Derek trailed off, his eyes shutting as the bullet fell from his hands. The bullet rolled into one of the vents, Derek falling to the ground by Ryan's feet.

"Derek?" Ryan nudged him with her foot, wincing as he didn't even stir. Stiles knelt down next to him, grabbing his face and shaking him.

"Derek come on, wake up." He slapped his face lightly, looking over at Scott. "Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?"

"I don't know!" He strained as he tried to grave the bullet, grunting quietly. "I can't reach it."

"He's not waking up." Ryan said, watching as Stiles smacked him again.

"I think he's dying." Stiles panicked, his voice breaking slightly. "I think he's dead."

"Hold on!" Scott yelled, closing his eyes as he focused. His claws grew, giving him energy's to carefully pull the bullet out of the grate. "I got it!"

"Please don't kill me for this." Stiles pleases, balling up his fist and drawing his arm back. He punched Derek in the face, crying out in pain as he shook his hand out. "Ow, god!"

Derek woke up, grabbing the bullet from Scott and letting the twins help him up from the ground. Using the table to help him stand, he broke open the bullet with his teeth and dumped the powder onto the metal. He pulled out a lighter and lit the powder on fire, the four of them stepping back as it ignited into sparks. Blue smoke drifted from the pile as he scooped it up into his hand, taking a deep breath.

Scott and Ryan winced as they watched him press it into the wound, a yell tearing through his throat as he stepped back. He pushed past Stiles and fell to the floor, groaning and writhing in pain. They watched the black in his veins slowly retreat, the whole wound disappearing as it healed.

"That...was...awesome!" Stiles yelled, Ryan and Scott looking a him like he was crazy as he fist pumped. "Yes!"

"We really need to re-evaluate your definition of awesome."

___________________________

Not edited

This chapter is about 2500 words, because I really just wanted to not draw out this episode lol ur welcome

I'm exhausted and I have AP prep at 8 am, so here y'all go I'm going to bed

Vote and comment!!!

Brea xx