Nine

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THE SUN HAD SET IN BEACON HILLS, BUT THE DAY WAS FAR FROM OVER.

Sierra watched in boredom as multiple cars drove past, still stuck in the jeep, while Stiles battled with Scott over the phone. Derek wasn't looking any better than he did after school; his skin had become paler and the blood oozing from the bullet wound turned darker with every passing minute.

"What am I supposed to do with him?" Stiles implored, displeased that Scott had gotten wrapped up in an awkward dinner with Allison's parents and her Aunt Kate.

"Take him somewhere," Scott replied from the hallway, away from the Argent family. He didn't know how this bullet would save Derek and honestly wanted to just go home. However, leaving the Argent house wasn't as easy as he originally planned, and his anxiety levels rose every time Chris or Kate questioned him. "Anywhere."

"And, by the way, he's starting to smell," Sierra commented from the passenger side, loud enough for Scott to hear her. Derek shot the girl a glare, not having the best day himself.

"Like what?"

"Like death," Stiles read Sierra's mind. Scott paced before an idea struck him.

"Okay, take him to the animal clinic," the shaggy-haired boy instructed and glanced up to see if anyone was around.

"What about your boss?"

Scott saw the time from the clock on the wall and answered, "He's gone by now. There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster."

Stiles sighed and held the phone out to Derek. "You're not going to believe where he's telling me to take you."

"Did you find it?" Derek asked Scott.

"How am I supposed to find one bullet?" Scott whispered harshly. "They have a million. This house is like- the freaking Walmart of guns."

"Look, if you don't find it, I'm dead. All right?"

Scott huffed. "I'm starting to think that wouldn't be such a terrible thing."

"Then think about this," Derek started, barely keeping his eyes open as another wave of pain hit. "The alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again." Scott nervously bounced his knee as he listened. "Next time, you either kill with him or get killed. So if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet." Derek ended the call, leaving Scott to figure it out.

Stiles opened the garage door to the animal clinic once they arrived, the light flickering. Derek collapsed on some bags of dog food, breathing heavily while Sierra pulled out her phone. "Does Northern Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?" Sierra asked, reading Scott's text.

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane," Derek replied as he fought to keep his eyes open. His hairline was damp with sweat, the poison getting closer to his heart. "He has to bring me the bullet."

"Why?"

"Cause I'm gonna die without it. "

*^*^*^*

Stiles held open the doors that led to the operating room in the back of the animal clinic, allowing Sierra to help Derek stagger past him. Then, he flicked on the lights.

Derek let go of Sierra, stumbling into the metal table in the middle of the small space. He ripped off his shirt with one hand, revealing a triskele tattoo on the back of his neck.

Sierra and Stiles focused on the wound on Derek's arm. Black veins surrounded the bullet hole, blood still seeping out of it.

"You know, that really doesn't look like anything some Echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn't take care of," Stiles suggested sarcastically.

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