Weightless ☾Teen Wolf [DISC.]

13; Little Werewolf Ass

The twins watched as Derek took a step forward before collapsing to the ground, Stiles making a choking noise as he ran his hand across his buzzcut. "You've gotta be kidding me, he's having a-"

He trailed off as students and parents began to honk their horns, Scott running over to them and smacking the driver's side door. "What the hell?"

"What are you-" Ryan watched in disbelief as Stiles got out of the car, joining Scott as he knelt next to Derek. "Really?"

"What are you doing here?" Scott hissed, his face full of panic as he looked Derek up and down.

"I was shot." Derek replied breathlessly, Ryan chewing on her nails as she looked back at all the cars beginning to line up.

"He's not looking so good, dude." Stiles pointed out, grimacing as he looked at Derek.

"Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"I can't. It was," Derek took a deep breath, growing paler by the second. "It was a different kind of bullet."

"A silver bullet?" Stiles asked, his eyes growing wide in more excitement than worry.

"No, you idiot." Derek growled, his sunken eyes giving Stiles an annoyed look. Ryan groaned and unbuckled her seatbelt, yanking open the door and running over to them.

"Wait, wait." Scott looked up at him in realization, turning Derek's attention away from his best friend. "That's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours."

"What?" He choked out, his pulse racing as he struggled to catch his breath. "Who-Who said forty-eight hours?"

"The one who shot you." Scott said, as if it was obvious.

"Guys, people are starting to freak out." Ryan hissed, jumping back when Derek let out a loud groan. He opened his eyes, flashing blue uncontrollably. "You know what sounds like a good idea? That not happening in the middle of the parking lot."

"What are you doing?" Scott looked around frantically as more people started to honk, drawing more and more attention to them. "Stop that!"

"I'm trying to tell you, I can't!" His eyes flickered, the  vivid blue contrasting with his pale skin and dark hair.

"Derek, get up." Scott ordered, Derek just looking more and more faint. Scott looked up at Stiles and Ryan, getting up and grabbing Derek from behind. "I'm putting him in your car."

Scott yanked him up, half dragging him towards the Jeep. He looked back at Ryan, nodding towards the backseat.

"What?" Ryan looked at him indignantly, her eyebrows raising as she crossed her arms. "I'm not sitting in the back, I always sit in the back."

"Ryan-"

"No."

•••

"I hate all of you." Ryan muttered as she slumped down in the backseat of the Jeep, her arms crossed in annoyance. "I hate it back here, it smells like feet."

"Shut up." Stiles threw his phone in the center console, looking over at Derek. "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Derek's voice was barely audible, his face covered with a thin layer of sweat.

"Your house." Stiles sighed, keeping his eyes on the road.

"What?" Derek looked up, the look of fear seeming almost misplaced, like it didn't belong on his face. "You can't take me there."