𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘴?

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Walls !
‧͙⁺˚*・ whoever said murder can't solve all your problems? ༓☾

〚 Walls ! 〛‧͙⁺˚*・ whoever said murder can't solve all your problems? ༓☾

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❝ nothing will stop me from killing you ❞










            BELLAMY WASN'T EXACTLY KNOWN FOR HIS CAREFUL DRIVING, but this was a new level of disregard. Stiles was almost certain that he was going out of his way to break every road safety law he could think of.

   Come to think of it, how did Bellamy even get his license?

   Despite Stiles' belief, Bellamy wasn't trying to kill everyone in the car. Just the opposite in fact. He was trying to get Brett to Deaton's fast enough. He'd lost consciousness and Bellamy wasn't sure what to do, so he picked up his speed.

   He needed Brett to survive.

They lied there, in the middle of the street, unmoving.

   Stiles was berating him from the backseat. Something about killing them all before they got to the clinic, but his voice was muffled. Bellamy couldn't focus on anything but getting Brett to Deaton. Thankfully, the fifteen minute drive had been shaved down to six minutes.

There was no heartbeat, no breathing.

   The second the car was in park, Bellamy was at the door and pulling Brett out. Bellamy held the boy close to his chest as he began to seize. Stiles clambered out and ran to the back door of the clinic. He pulled it open to reveal Deaton and a man Bellamy hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting.

Their body was crumpled in an unnatural position in a puddle of blood, too much blood.

   Deaton didn't leave the protection of his building as he asked Stiles and the handsome stranger to bring Brett inside. The two guys took the siezing male from Bellamy and struggled to get him to the table. Regret was already settling into his heart. Maybe bringing him to Deaton was a mistake.

But still, Bellamy tried to save them, tried to give them his blood.

   "Invite me in. I can help." His broken plea was ignored as they struggled to get Brett onto the table. His seizing had only gotten worse as yellow foam began to leak from his mouth. Bellamy's eyes did not leave Brett.

Their blood covered his hands and both of their clothes.

   "What the fuck is happening to this kid?" Stiles struggled to hold him down.

𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 ╼╼ b. talbotWhere stories live. Discover now