Deals || Stilinski

Seventeen: nicknames and magic bullet

Stiles' P.O.V:

It's been a while of us driving aimlessly around Beacon Hills with a half dead werewolf on the passenger seat.

To be completely honest, I'm both glad and disappointed that I couldn't get that study session with Emma. As I told to Scot earlier, 'just studying' never ends in just studying and even though we've done this before, I had the feeling today could have been different.

And that's what I am scared about. What if something happens between us? It would be good for me, because my plan would work. I am damn scared of what I'd feel.

And by the way, Today I told Scott about this all and now he hates me, pretty much his reason to put Derek in my car.

Okay, it wasn't the main reason but he is mad at me anyways.

It's already dark when Scott decides to finally call. "What am I supposed to do with him?"

"Take him somewhere, anywhere!" Scott says. Well, no shit, Sherlock. I do know I have to take him somewhere, thing is where and he better doesn't say Derek's house because I'll kill him.

"And by the way, he's starting to smell," Emma adds, taking the phone out of my hands. "Like death," she whispers loud enough for me and Derek to hear and I have to stop myself from laughing.

Only Emma would say such a thing in such a moment. Well, I would probably say that too.

"Take him to the animal clinic," Scott tells me once I get the phone back.

Derek threats Scott and with a "find the bullet" we head to the animal clinic.

"I'm fucking starving," Emma whines.

"If you shut up I'll buy you a pizza," I say and she does as she's told.

"Deal," she states, resting her back in the comfy backseats of my jeep.

Derek is getting worse each second and we both know it. By the time we make it to the animal clinic he is pale and sweaty and I don't even dare to look back at his disgusting wound.

"Does 'Nordic blue monkshood' means anything to you?" Emma asks and I turn around to tell her to stop talking shit but I realize she is in fact talking to Derek, phone in hand.

Scott texted her instead of me, I love how this friendship works. And as I zone off because apparently Emma has everything under control, I find myself staring at her.

She looks tired, stressed and even a bit scared. She hears carefully every word Derek says and her eyes widen when he shuts up.

She takes her phone again and furiously tap it, clicking it one last time to send the message, I guess.

She lets out a groan and I can't help but think that she looks cute when she is like this.

I've said "Emma" and "cute" in the same sentence a lot lately. I even told her I found it cute that she is failing chemistry when the truth is that is very pathetic, as she said.

"Stiles!" She snaps her fingers in front of my face and I go back to reality. "Help me get him in, he'll die if Scott doesn't bring him the bullet and he won't stop talking about a last resource," she whispers, frustration evident in her face.

"And he also has werewolf hearing." I remind her. "Come on."

We help Derek stand up and walk him to the table in the middle of the room as he takes his shirt off to reveal the awful wound.

Emma makes a sarcastically remark and Derek talks about death. I feel dizzy, where the hell is Scott?

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" I say, needing to make a sarcastic comment.