Forty-eight Hours

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"Was it a silver bullet?" Stiles crouches over Derek, readying himself to do research. 

Scott, Derek, and I all shoot him an irritated expression. "No, you idiot." Derek groans. 

"Wait, wait - that's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours..." Scott is looking at Derek, who is now widening his eyes in horror. 

"What? Who..who said forty-eight hours?" 

"The one who shot you." Scott responds, saying the information as if we should have already known. 

"Wait- you mean the blonde bitch you were telling me about earlier?" I turn away from Derek and look over at Scott, who nods his head. 

"God, do you tell them everything?" Even while he's possibly dying, Derek still has no issue being an asshole. 

"Are you forgetting that i'm just about as human as you?" I reach down and push on the spot of his arm that he just showed us. 

"Oh my-" His eyes start flashing blue, and his face contorts in agony. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them back up again, only for them to be flashing between their normal color and their werewolf color. Scott is standing over him in horror, frantically looking around to see who might be watching. 

"What are you doing? Stop that!" Scott throws his hands in front of him and starts moving them around as he speaks in a panic. 

Derek shakes his head angrily, "I'm trying to tell you - I can't."

"Derek, get up." Scott grabs onto his shoulders and begins helping him up. 

I look back at the line of cars behind us, all honking except for Allison. Her car is right behind her, and she is watching in confusion as Scott drags a half-dead looking Derek into Stiles' car. I slowly put up my hand and wave at her, putting on an unconvincing smile. I tilt my body to the side to see Jackson's car behind Allison's, Lydia staring at me from the passenger seat. I bring my hand up to my mouth and point my finger at it while making a fake gagging face, trying to convince her that Stiles is profusely vomiting on the asphalt. I see her mouth 'ew' in the distance, and turn away, glad my convincing worked. 

I walk over to the car to see Derek in the passenger seat, talking to Scott. "Cause you need me. Now go figure out what bullet they used." 

"Ugh, fine. I'll try." Scott walks around the front of the Jeep and faces Stiles and I, "Hey, get him out of here." 

"Just so you know, we hate you so much for this." Stiles says, glaring at Scott. 

Scott glances over to me and I mouth to him, "No I don't." He smiles and walks to Allison's car, while Stiles and I pull out of the parking lot. 


"Hey, can you try not to bleed out on my seats? We're almost there." Stiles pushes his body as far against the drivers side door as he can, to get away from Derek. I sit in the back, silently grimacing at the bleeding man in Stiles' passenger seat. I try not to look at the blood, unless I want Stiles to have one dying person and one passed out person in his car. 

"Almost where?" Derek doesn't move his eyes from the window while holding onto his arm, probably trying to keep himself from literally bleeding out. 

"Your house." 

"What?" Derek snaps his head towards Stiles, turning it back to look at me as well. "No, you can't take me there." 

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles scoffs. 

"Not when I can't protect myself!" Derek protests, looking at us with a sense of disbelief on his face. 

Stiles pulls over the car and turns towards Derek. "Alright. What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?" 

"Not yet. I have a last resort." He pulls up his sleeve again and shows Stiles and I the bullet wound. 

"Oh my god! What is that? It looks worse than it did ten minutes ago!" I cover my mouth and turn away, trying to deep breathe my way out of fainting. 

"Oh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out." Stiles points at the passenger door. 

"I'm seriously gonna pass out." 

"Start the car. Now." Derek practically death stares us. 

"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 in the middle of the road and leave you for dead." Stiles says before looking back at me and winking, clearly proud of his choice of words. 

"Start the car...or i'm gonna rip your throat out...with my teeth." Derek lowers his voice and talks with his teeth clamped. 

Stiles looks at me before turning back towards the wheel, sighing, and turning the key. 


"What are we supposed to do with him?" I'm holding my phone up to my ear, talking to Scott.

"Take him somewhere. Anywhere. Hand me over to Stiles." I sigh and reach forward, pushing the phone up to Stiles' ear until he grabs it out of my hand. 

"And by the way, Scott? He's starting to smell." 

Stiles sits in silence for a minute before saying, "Like death." 

I cover my mouth and hold back a laugh, as Derek has turned around in his seat and started glaring at me. 

"What about your boss?" Stiles continues on our end of the phone, before handing it to Derek. 

"You will not believe where he's telling me to take him." Stiles says, nearly rolling his eyes at the thought. I shrug and shake my head, waiting for him to tell me. "The animal clinic."

I widen my eyes and lean forward, "If we get caught, Deaton just might kill me." 

"Yeah!" Stiles agrees, not trying to make me feel any better, as he is just as against the idea as I am. 

We turn our attention back to Derek, who is getting short with Scott. "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..you and Maeve." 

Stiles quickly turns towards Derek, in shock over this information. "Both of them?" 

Derek continues, ignoring Stiles. "So, if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet." He hangs up the phone and hands it back to me. 

"You know, I'm not loving this whole sense of entitlement that you have, Derek. We don't need you to survive, you just like to think that." I say to him, raising my eyebrows. 

"You can't even get your claws out unless you have a freakout sesh." He says to me, his voice monotone. 

"Fair enough." 


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