𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ▸ Stiles Stilinski ¹

|17|

seventeen
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The sat in mostly silence for the rest of the trip to the animal clinic. When they got there, Derek collapsed against the wall, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Stiles read off his phone.

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring me the bullet," Derek pants.

"Why?" Stiles asked stupidly.

"Because he's gonna die without it, idiot," Brie sighed, placing her head in her hands. "The odds aren't looking great for ya, buddy."

After a while, the two teens brought Derek into another room in the shelter, the main room. He took off his shirt which made Brie widen her eyes in surprise.

He was ripped!

Stiles gave her a 'are you serious?' look which she simply shrugged at and continued to look around to room for anything off use.

The bullet hole on Dereks arm was only getting worse and quite frankly, more disgusting.

"You know, that really doesn't look like anting some echinacea and a good nights sleep couldn't take care of," Stiles joked, obviously getting more nervous.

"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me," Derek said between breaths.

"We should probably just cut the whole arm off at this point," Brie said, half-joking, half-serious.

"Positivity just isn't in either of you guys vocabulary, is it?" Stiles sighed.

Derek looked at Brie. "If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time, your going to have to," he said, looking completely serious, holding up a chainsaw sort-of-thing.

Stiles made a vomiting noise.

"Are you serious?" Brie asked in disbelief. "I was joking. Am I fuck gonna cut your arm off," she shook her head.

"Then Stiles can do it," he turned to Stiles who muttered an 'oh god' and turned away.

"We're not cutting off your arm, you'll bleed to death!" Brie exclaimed.

"It'll heal if it works," Derek said, wrapping a rope around his bicep.

The two teens gave each other a look.

Brie was the first to speak up. "You heard the man, Stiles. Cut his arm off," she said, passing his the chainsaw and backing away.

"What? Why me?" he argued. "You're the one who suggested it."

"If it were up to me, I would've left him at the side of the road," she argued back, not caring that Derek was right there. "You wanted to help him, so, help him."

Stiles sighed. Brie was in one of her weird moods. There's a version of Brie that would've jumped on the opportunity to help anyone, no matter who it is. But lately, that version of Brie seems to have disappeared.

"Look, I don't know if I can do this," Stiles complained.

"Why not?" Derek asked harshly.

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!"

"You faint at the sight of blood?"

"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!"

"All right, fine. How about this?" Derek sighed. "Either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your girlfriends head here."