Derek hands the bone saw to Stiles. Then begins tying a tourniquet around the infected arm.
"What if you bleed to death?" Stiles asked, a look of nausea on his face.
"It'll heal. If it works," Derek informed him.
"I don't know if I can do this," Stiles said, grimacing.
"Why not?" Derek asked, like it was actually something someone can easily do.
"Because of the cutting through flesh, the sawing of bone, and especially the blood," Stiles said, his face paling.
"You faint at the sight of blood?"
"No. But I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!" Stiles half shouted.
"How about this: Either you cut off my arm or I rip off your head," Derek growled.
"I'm not buying your threats anymore," Stiles said, and Derek grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward so Stiles could get a better look in Derek's eyes and the threat that was a hundred percent real,"Okay, bought, sold, I'll do it, I'll do it."
Derek releases him, but not because he wanted to. He starts gasping, choking and coughing. Hunching over, he opens his mouth as if to throw up. But instead of vomit, an inky black liquid is choked out, spilling across the floor.
"Holy shit!" Stiles shouted,"What the hell is that?"
"My body... trying... to heal," Derek wheezed.
"It's not doing a very good job," Stiles said, trying not to look at it.
Kneeling on the floor, Derek looks up with glowing blue eyes,"Now... you have to do this now!" He growled.
Dragging himself up, he puts his infected arm on the examining table.
"Oh, shit," Stiles groaned.
Placing the edge of the blade against Derek's skin, just above the farthest-reaching infected vein, Stiles takes a deep breath. He squeezes his eyes shut. And just as he's about to pull the trigger Scott's voice pierces the tension from the other room,"Stiles?"
Scott bursts through the door, shocked to see Stiles preparing to saw off Derek's arm,"What the hell are you doing?"
"You just prevented a lifetime of nightmares," Stiles informed him.
"Did you get it?" Derek asked Scott.
Scott holds up the bullet. Derek grabs it, raises it up to look at it in the light.
"What are you going to do?" Stiles asked.
"I'm going to... I'm going..." He falls. Collapsing right to the floor. The bullet drops and goes rolling. Scott darts after it.
"No, no, no--" He mumbles as the bullet drops through a metal grate and into a drain. Kneeling down, Scott digs his fingers into the grate, but he can't reach the bullet.
Across the room, Stiles tries to wake up Derek,"Derek? Derek, wake up! Scott, what the hell are we going to do?"
"I don't know, the bullet, I can't reach it--" Scott started.
"I think he's dying," Stiles said, looking down at Derek's pale face,"I think he's dead!" He corrected.
"Just hold on!" Scott said, squeezing his eyes shut, pushing further down. With his teeth clenched, something happens. His fingernails begin to sharpen, extending to claws. It gives him just enough reach to pluck the bullet out. Scott leaps to his feet.
"I got it!" Scott yelled triumphantly.
Stiles looks back down at Derek,"Please don't kill me for this."
YOU ARE READING
Hope Andrea Argent
FanfictionIn order to keep Hope Mikaelson safe from their enemies her parents faked her death and gave her up for adoption. She was adopted six months later by Kate Argent. Kate may have been a bad person but she always did her best to keep her daughter saf...
