♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦

hello, snow white!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

THE NEXT DAY AT LUNCH, Lydia Martin sat her tray down at the table Scott and Stiles were stationed at. "-You can't just cancel your entire life. We'll figure it out."

"Figure what out?" she caught their attention as the duo sent each other confused looks.

"Just, uh, homework." Scott lied unconvincingly while his best friend nodded eagerly.

She narrowed her eyes before placing both arms along the table. "Whatever, have either of you seen Dallas?"

Scott shrugged while Stiles stammered over his sentences. "Wha- no, is she okay?"

Lydia quirked a brow at his concern and scoffed. "She won't be if she keeps dodging my calls."

Danny sat down beside Stiles, taking a glance at Dallas who took her seat beside Lydia. Allison joined the conversation and sat beside Scott. "My phone died, but I'm warmed that you think about me."

Stiles greeted Danny with a nod, but he ignored the boy and initiated a conversation with Dallas instead. "Hey, I saw you bail from the game last night. You good?"

She tutted and didn't seem to notice the peculiar stare that Stiles had on her - but Lydia did. "Oh, it was nothing. My dad's just being a total control freak about this curfew. It's like he doesn't trust me."

"Do you really blame him, Dal?" Jackson spoke from behind the two girls. He stood beside the curly-haired boy who sat at the remainder of the table. "Get up."

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" The boy whined.

"Because I don't stare at Lydia's coin slot." Danny sassed back, an apple in hand. Dallas looked up from her phone and chuckled at him as Lydia sent him an appreciative smile.

Jackson sat beside Dallas and Lydia while Danny leaned forward to whisper. "So, I hear they're saying its some type of animal attack."

Stiles continued to peel his orange but sent Scott an anxious expression. "Probably a cougar."

Dallas shared an anxious look with Danny, who gave her a comforting smile.

"I heard a mountain lion." Jackson furrowed his eyebrows. Dallas rolled her eyes at the boy and huffed.

"A cougar is a mountain lion." She stared blankly.

"Is it?" Lydia cocked her head, dumbing herself down for her boyfriend.

Jackson knitted his eyebrows at the brunette and strawberry blonde. "Who cares?" he leaned back in his chair. "The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."

"Hey!" Dallas nudged him with her shoulder and coiled at his sensitivity. Jackson could be a lot meaner whenever he was around his other friends than he usually was. Before Jackson could defend himself, Stiles spoke up.

"Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out." he placed his phone in the middle of the table so they could all see.

"- The Sherrif's Department won't speculate on the details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack." the image of the man flashed on-screen. "Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition."

Scott let out a panicked huff. "I know this guy."

Allison quirked a brow. "You do?"

"Yeah, when I used to take the bus, back when I lived with my dad." he stared at the broadcast on Stiles's phone. "He was the driver."

Lydia poked her salad with her fork and slouched. "Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" she turned grasped the attention of both Dallas and Allison. "Like, oh, where are going tomorrow night?"

Dallas gave her a confused look, as did Allison but she quickly explained. "Allison and Scott are hanging out tomorrow night, right?" she then turned her head to Ally who almost choked.

"Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do." She shrugged as Lydia scoffed.

"Well, I am not sitting home again watching lacrosse videos, so the six of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun." She nodded her head to Dallas and Danny who snickered.

"Lyds, you know I'd love to, but I have lacrosse practice." Danny excused leaving the brunette with Lydia's green eyes narrowed at her.

"Cheer practice."

She narrowed her eyes. "Fine, guess it's just the four of us."

"Hanging out?" Scott turned to Allison who nodded innocently. "Like.. the four of us, Do you want to hang out, us and.. them?"

Allison shared a look of dread with Dallas before replying. "Yeah, I guess. Sounds fun."

Jackson grasped the attention of the whole table. "You know what else sounds fun?" picking up the fork from his tray, he continued. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."

"Good plan." Dallas grimaced, taking the fork from his hand and examining it. Lydia leaned over the table and scolded her boyfriend.

"How about bowling? You love to bowl." Lydia offered a sugary sweet smile as Danny and Dallas low-key made fun of the couple.

"Yeah, with actual competition."

Allison challenged the Whittmore with a sly smirk. "How do you know we're not an actual competition?" she nodded her head to Scott. "You can bowl, right?"

Stiles watched the drama unfold and sunk in his seat. While the whole picture seemed pretty bleak, he hoped that with everyone gone, he and Dallas could've possibly hung out. Even after the short-lived phone call they had shared, it made him feel like a chance with her wasn't completely impossible for him.

"Sort of." Scott shrugged nonchalantly.

"Is that a sort of or yes?" Jackson leaned forward on the table and placed his forearms on the table, eyebrows knitted.

Scott felt the smug response crawl up his throat and struggled to choke it down. "Yes. In fact, Im a great bowler."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

"You are a terrible bowler!" Stiles let out an exasperated sigh, steadying himself down the stairs as his best friend drowned in his own mistakes.

"I know! I'm such an idiot."

Stiles winced. "God, it was like watching a car wreck." he continued "I mean, first it turned into the whole group date thing, and then out of nowhere comes that phrase."

"Hang out." Scott sent him a bewildered look

The Stilinski pinched the bride of his nose and continued explaining. "You don't hang out with hot girls, okay? It's like death." he grimaced. "Once it's hanging out, you might as well be her gay best friend."

He adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. "It's like... like how Danny and Dallas hang out."

"Ugh, how is this happening? I either killed a guy or I didn't."

Stiles ignored his best friend and continued to ramble. "I don't think Danny likes me very much." he frowned. "I don't think he likes anyone except Dallas.. and well, guys."

"- I ask Allison on a date.. and now we're hanging out."

"But I'm a guy, so does that mean I'm not attractive to gay guys?" He asked Scott, who was now ignoring him.

Scott dropped his hands to his side. "I make first line and the team captain wants to destroy me, and now.." he took a look at his phone. "Now I'm gonna be late for work."

Stiles stopped in his tracks in the hall, calling after the boy. "Wait, Scott! You didn't-" he opted to yell out to him instead. "Am I attractive to gay guys?"

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas Garcia made her way down the halls of Beacon Hills high, wires hanging from the earbuds that sat firmly in her ears, failing to notice how Derek Hale stumbled his way after her.  He kept his gaze centered at the floor before glancing up at Jackson Whittmore who was stacking his textbooks in his locker.

"Where's Scott McCall?" he swallowed, approaching the privileged boy. Jackson studied him momentarily as he slammed his locker shut.

"Why should I tell you?"

Derek clenched his jaw, a harsh expression laying over his sickly pale skin. "Because I asked you politely... And I only do that once."

Jackson chuckled humorlessly. "Hmm. Okay, tough guy." he took a breath. "How about I help you find him if you tell me what you're selling him? What is it? Is it Dianabol?" he leaned forward. "Hm? HGH?"

"Steroids?" The Hale murmured. He turned to leave but Jackson grabbed his arm, which he grit his teeth at.

"No, Girl Scout Cookies." he seethed. "What the hell do you think I'm talking about?" he noticed his dreary attitude. "Oh, and by the way, whatever it is that you're selling, I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked."

Derek stared down at his hand, which had a thin stream of blood trailing down onto his fingers before it finally dropped on the floor. He clenched his fist and pushed past the teenager. "I'll find him myself."

Jackson tried to grab him again. "No, we're not done here-"

The werewolf grabbed the man by the back of the neck and pushed him against the blue lockers. He removed his hand and knitted his brows as he felt the blood coat around his fingers. His nails were extended and they had clawed deep into the back of the Whittmore's neck.

He swallowed harshly and bolted away from the boy, Jackson grasping the wound while sending the man a crazed look.

Derek leaned against the nearby hall walls and clutched his arm. He tried to focus on the sounds around him but everything was a little too chaotic. That was until he heard the voices of Lydia, Allison, and Dallas.

"Scott's coming over, tonight?" the strawberry blonde cocked her head at the Argent who rolled her eyes.

"We're just studying together."

Lydia hummed not-so-innocently. "Just studying never ends with just studying. It's like getting into a hot tub, somebody eventually cops a feel."

Dallas stared down at her phone behind them but still listened in on the conversation while making a disgusted face. She always felt like a third wheel nowadays, but she held her head high and pretended like it didn't bother her. "Gross."

Lydia gave her other best friend the side-eye."I'm just saying, you know, make sure he covers up."

Allison stopped in the middle of the hallway, right before the stairs, and stared at Lydia confusedly. Lydia rolled her green eyes and tutted. "Hello, Snow White, I'm talking about a condom."

The Argent spoke through scattered chuckles. "Are you kidding? After one date?"

Lydia huffed. "Don't be a total prude. Give him a little taste." she gently nudged her with her shoulder and continued to climb the stairwell before Ally caught her attention again.

"Well, I mean, how much is a little taste?"

"Oh, god. You really like him, don't you?" Lydia cooed, raising her eyebrows to Dallas who gave her a sarcastic gasp.

Allison tucked her brown hair behind her ear. "Well, he's just different. When I first moved here I had a plan, no boyfriends 'til college. I just move too much. But then I met him and he was.. Different." she gushed as Lydia softened her expression. "I don't know. I can't explain it."

"I can. It's your brain flooding with phenylethylamine." she shrugged nonchalantly. Dallas glanced up from her phone and gave her a puzzled look, along with Allison.

"What?" Ally chuckled as the strawberry blonde shared a look with her two friends.

"I'll tell you what to do. When's he coming over?"

Allison chewed on her bottom lip, disrupting the gloss that had been placed there moments ago. "Right after school."

The Bell rang throughout the hall which made Derek clasp his hands over his ears. He quickly exited the building, as did Stiles Stilinski who made a beeline for his jeep. The buzzcut boy reversed from his parking space and attempted to drive down the lot but slammed on his breaks as Derek appeared in front of his car - holding his hand up in the air.

The hot rubber screeched against the cement and Stiles let out a breathless curse. "Oh, my god!"

Cars blared their horns behind him, catching the attention of Scott McCall who looked up from his bike. He noticed the dreary sight of Derek Hale stumbling in front of the jeep before falling to his feet.

"No, no, no, not here!" he hissed before running towards the man. Stiles slammed his hands against his steering wheel and ran a hand over his buzzcut.

"You gotta be kidding me. This guy's everywhere." He spun around in his seat as more horns honked his way.

Scott aided Derek and lifted him from the floor. "What are you doing here?" he asked as Stiles exited his jeep and stood over the duo.

"I was shot." Derek managed to mumble out.

"He's not looking so good, dude," Stiles stated the obvious and glanced between the two werewolves.

The McCall panicked. "Why aren't you healing?"

The Beta panted breathlessly. "I can't... It was a different kind of bullet."

"A silver bullet?" Stiles questioned, but became quiet when met with Derek's harsh glare.

"No, you idiot."

Scott made a silent realisation. "Wait, that's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours."

Derek looked up tiredly. "What? Who said 48 hours?"

"The one who shot you." The other beta mumbled.

Derek's eyes flashed blue as he let out a sharp breath, groaning aloud. More horns blared and Scott examined his surrounding anxiously. "What are you doing? Stop that!"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. I can't!" he seethed.

Scott helped the man into the passenger's seat of Stiles's blue jeep. "I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used," Derek advised Scott with a deep breath.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" he spoke through the open window of the vehicle.

"She's an Argent. She's with them."

Scott's eyes trailed around himself before he lowered his voice. "Why should I help you?"

Derek furrowed his thick eyebrows and sighed. "Because you need me."

The Beta glanced at Allison who was giving him a worried look from her car. "Fine, I'll try." he then nodded to Stiles who climbed into the driving seat. "Hey, get him out of here."

"I hate you so much for this." he clenched his jaw before speeding off.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Stiles's car passed nearby houses as he watched Derek fumble in the passenger seat. "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay?" he complained. "We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Derek grumbled.

The human sighed heavily. "Your house."

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

Stiles let out a humorless laugh. "I can't take you to your own house?"

"Not when I can't protect myself."

Stiles pulled over on the side of the road and turned to the werewolf. "What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hm?" he began. "Are you dying?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Not yet. I have a last resort. Take me to James Garcia."

"Unless you want to sue the Argents, then I suggest going to Mr. Garcia won't help!"

The Beta raised the material on his arm and uncovered the sickly bullet-wound. His veins bulged out of his arm and the injury was coated with thick, sticky blood.

"Oh, my God! What is that?" he coiled away and hid behind his hand. "Ugh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably get out."

"Start the car and take me to James. Now."

Stiles scoffed. "I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look. 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 glared his way to the Stilinski and seethed. "Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out... With my teeth."

Around ten or twenty minutes later, The Hale and Stilinski pulled up to the Garcia residence. Derek lay weakly in the passenger seat as Stiles brushed his knuckles against the wooden door. He was curious about how the two men even knew each other - and if any of that included Dallas - but his train of thoughts was cut short when the door swung open to reveal a confused lawyer.

"Stiles?" He quirked a brow. "If you're here for Dallas, she's at cheer practice."

"Uh, no, Mr. Garcia. It's actually you that I'm looking for." he gestured to the werewolf in his car, who waved sarcastically at the man. James cursed and grabbed his keys from the stand beside him and clasped the door shut behind him.

He ran up to Stiles's jeep and stood next to the passenger door. "Are you kidding me? You roped Stilinski's kid into this?"

The buzzcut boy seemed fixated on the conversation between James and Derek and climbed into the driver's seat of his Jeep. Dallas's father climbed into the back and continued to scold the werewolf.

"Go to the animal clinic," James advised, which caused Stiles to shoot him a crazed look.

"The Animal clinic?-"

"Just do it, Stiles." James deadpanned, ignoring Derek's increasing grunts of pain.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Once the trio reached the animal clinic, James picked the lock and helped carry Derek inside. Stiles stared down at his phone and turned to the werewolf. "Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?"

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring me the bullet." Derek grunted weakly. James glanced between the two and stopped his search through the medical supplies of the clinic.

"He? Who is he? Who else have you got caught up in this?"

The werewolf grunted harshly. "Scott McCall."

James scoffed and pulled out a few bandages to help shorten the bleeding. "Great. Just great."

"Wait why do you need the bullet?" Stiles spoke up.

"Because I'm gonna die without it."

Derek ripped his shirt from his chest and stared down at the injury that had become increasingly more infected by the second. "You know, that doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." the buzzcut mumbled.

Derek shared a worried look with James. "When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me." he breathed heavily.

The Garcia passed a few bandages to Derek who tossed them aside. "They're no use. If Scott doesn't get here with the bullet in time, the last resort is.."

James and Stiles waited for the man to finish, wincing as he picked up an electric knife. "You're gonna cut off my arm."

The human shot a knowing look at Stiles before taking the power knife from the werewolf and examining it. "What if you bleed to death?" Stiles yelped, watching the Hale tie a thin band around his arm to restrain the circulation.

"It'll heal if it works."

Derek leaned over the metal table and puked on the floor, his bloody vomit a dark hue. "Holy God! What the hell is that?" Stiles turned his head away from the sight while James scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"It's his body, it's trying to heal itself." The Lawyer commented which caused the human to look at him puzzledly.

"How do you even know about this stuff?"

"Let's just say me and Derek here are old-time friends." he turned the electric knife on, holding it above his infected arm before the yelling of Scott McCall distracted him.

"Mr. Garcia?" he stood in the doorway. "What the hell are you guys doing?"

Stiles gave the boy a nervous chuckle. "Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares."

"Did you get it?" Derek asked the beta who dug through his pocket to retrieve the bullet and passed it to the other werewolf. He snapped the tip of the metal with his teeth and emptied the power onto the table, igniting it with a lighter that he pulled from his jean pocket. Once diffused, he scraped the dust from the table and dug it into his graze, screaming out in pain.

He gathered himself and pulled himself up from the floor with the help of James. "I thought you said not to trust the Garcias!" Scott blurted out as James shot the werewolf an offended look. "Maybe you were trying to scare me, just like how you do with the Argents! I bet they're a lot freaking nicer than you are."

James and Derek shared a look before the werewolf spoke up. "I can show you exactly how nice they are."

☆ word count: 3,433. ☆