Lunatics ➳ Derek Hale/Teen Wolf [1]

25. pledge your allegiance

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any parts of Teen Wolf or its plot or characters. I do not own Derek Hale. However I do own Skylar McCall and some of the things that come along with her plot (Like Harv & Kelly's, etc.).

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I grimace as Deaton holds a small shiny bullet up for me to see. He examines it, twirling it around with his tweezers before plopping it down in a metal tray next to him. He continues cleaning up my brother's wound, wiping away the dried blood gently. I rest my head against my knee, sitting in the chair next to the examination table my brother's laid out on, still reeling from the night's events.

Deaton still hasn't told me why he was there, or why he's helping, or how he knows about what Scott is. In fact, Deaton hasn't said much at all since I've come out of the bathroom with a rag filled with all the blood my brother got on me. I haven't either, since I'm just grateful that my brother's going to live. For a second there, I was really scared he wouldn't.

My attention turns back to the table as Scott gasps awake and coughs, trying to sit up.

"I wouldn't get up just yet," Deaton says, shaking his head at my brother.

"You're okay." I smile, standing next to him and grabbing his arm. He looks at me and Deaton, clearly dazed and confused.

"Am I—"

"You're fine," Deaton confirms. "And I've given you something that should speed up the healing process."

"But you're a vet?" Scott murmurs, glancing down at where Deaton is still cleaning his wound.

"That's very true," he agrees. "And ninety percent of the time I'm mostly treating cats and dogs."

"Mostly?" Scott echoes. He looks between my brother and I.

"Mostly." He smiles.

Scott's eyes flutter shut and he goes back under again. It isn't long before I crash too, curled up in an uncomfortable waiting room chair beside my brother.

It's morning when I wake, stretching my aching limbs from the position they were in all night. Scott's just waking up too, and when my eyes focus I see Deaton's at one of the back counters. My brother rolls off of the examination table, his knees buckling beneath him. When he finally finds his balance he looks around in confusion.

"Welcome back to the land of the conscious," Deaton says, helping my brother maintain an upright position. "You doing okay? Maybe you should sit down, huh?"

"How are you feeling?" I ask, coming to stand next to Scott as he studies his wound. Before he can answer the bell dings in the entrance, signalling a customer.

"Hello?" Deaton calls out. When no one answers he goes to check it out but Scott latches onto his arm, stopping him. Deaton gives him a smile of assurance, heading out to the front to check on the guest. "I'm sorry but we're—"