Banshee (Teen Wolf FanFiction: Derek Hale)

Chapter Thirteen: Best Laid Plans

“What’s he doing here?” Scott asks as Derek and Isaac enter the vet’s office. I’m leaning against the wall on the other side of the counter. Derek is quick to spot me. His gaze then goes to Scott.

“I need him,” Derek replies simply.

“I don’t trust him,” Scott declares.

“Well, he doesn’t trust you either,” Isaac says.

“And Derek doesn’t really care,” Derek snaps, clearly irritated with the conversation between his two betas.

I bite my lip to stop from smiling. Now is definitely not the time to find humor in the situation.

“Now where’s the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?” Derek asks.

“That depends. Your friend, Jackson, are we planning to kill him or save him?” Deaton asks from behind me.

“Kill him,” Derek says at the same time Scott and I say, “Save him.”

“Save him!” Scott repeats forcefully.

Derek rolls his eyes. I know he believes there is no way of saving Jackson but Scott believes there is. Truth be told, I believe the kid can be saved as well. I turn around to face Deaton.

“Save him,” I say, backing Scott up.

“Follow me, then,” the vet says and we walk behind him into the exam room. Derek brushes against me and I swear I almost see a smirk on his face as he passes me.

I take my place by Deaton’s side while the three wolves stand across from us. Before Derek and Isaac arrived, we had been in deep conversation about Jackson. Admittedly, I’m not of much use in that area seeing as how I don’t know much about the kid. Isaac reaches for a jar from the collection Deaton has just placed on the table. Derek snatches his hand away.

“Watch what you touch,” Derek says as patiently as he can.

Isaac nods and leans his forearms against the table.

“So, what are you? Some kind of witch?” Isaac asks.

“No, I’m a veterinarian,” Deaton deadpanned and I cough back a laugh. This is so not the time. I catch Derek biting back his own amusement at me. Deaton sets down the jar he was inspecting.

“Unfortunately, I don’t see anything here that will be a defective defense for paralytic toxins.”

“We’re open to suggestions,” Derek says to the vet.

“What about an effective offense?” Isaac asks.

I shake my head. “No, we already tried. Derek nearly took its head off.”

“And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up,” Derek says, finishing my thought.

“Has it shown any weaknesses?” Deaton asks.

“Well, one—it can’t swim,” Derek replies. I’m staring down at the jars on the table. There’s a plan somewhere in there. I can feel it.

“Does that go for Jackson as well?” Deaton asks.

“No, he’s the captain of the swim team,” Scott says.

“Essentially you’re trying to catch two people,” Deaton says and he rummages through the cabinets before returning back to us.

“A puppet and a puppeteer,” I say more to myself than anyone else.

Deaton nods. “One killed the husband but the other had to take of the wife. Do we know why?”