Storm // Teen Wolf // Scott McCall (Discontinued)

Interrupting Some Much Needed Beauty Sleep

"Wait a second, why don't I get to be the Princess?" Laura asked, her pretty face split by a grin.

Cora rolled her eyes. "Because I'm the Princess- duh," she rolled her brown eyes, giving her an 'Are you kidding me?' look.

I giggled, smiling up at my oldest sister. "You get to be the Queen- like Mom!" I chirped, holding out the crown for her.

Laura took it with a fond smile. "But if I'm the Queen, who do you get to be?" She asked, pulling me into her lap.

Cora lifted her nose up into the air, smirking. "Sawyer gets to be a duchess," she announced, looking proud of herself.

I scowled, crossing my small arms. "No! I want to be a knight! With a sword and everything!" I chirped, looking up at Laura with big, hopeful eyes.

She chuckled, brushing a couple strands of hair out of my face. "And you can be a knight. You'll be the best knight."

"Sawyer!"

I groaned, rolling onto my stomach. "Too early, Stiles," I mumbled, snuggling into the nest of blankets.

"Sawyer, get up before I make you get up," the voice hissed.

I grunted in response, not moving. Stupid Stiles.

A shriek left my mouth when someone- who was definitely not Stiles- grabbed my ankle and yanked, causing me to the fall onto the ground.

"SON OF A- what the hell, Derek!" I spat, propping myself up on my elbows.

My older brother stood over me, looking pale and in pain. He clutched at his forearm, his jaw clenched.

Anger was immediately replaced by worry as I stood, eyes wide. "Derek? Are you okay?" I whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He shook his head. "Kate shot me," he grunted out. I slowly nodded, forcing a smile. Stupid Argent.

"Well," I murmured. "You're interrupting some much needed beauty sleep, but I know I've got something around here... sit." I pointed at the bed, before sliding a box out from underneath my desk.

Derek fell onto the bed with a sigh, pulling his shirt over his head. I sifted through the contents of the box, muttering the names of herbs to myself as I did.

"Mistletoe, aconite, no idea what that is..." I grinned when I held up the jar labeled in my mother's loopy scrawl 'Nordic Blue'.

"Perfect. This- now, this might hurt. Just a little bit. But you won't die, so- it's a win," I told him, shrugging.

Derek stared at me with a pained expression. "You're acting like Mom," he murmured as I snatched a lighter out of a desk drawer.

My hand froze over the small blue tube, my fingertips barely touching the plastic. I gulped, forcing a smile. "I-I'll have to burn it first. Um, h-hold on..." I muttered, trying to flick to lighter on.

My fingers fumbled before I took a deep breath. Calm down, my mom would always say. Take a big breath in, and let it out. Don't think about it too much.

The tiny flame flew upwards with a click as I held it to the monkshood dust- the Wolfsbane that could save my brother's life, or end it.

I scraped the burnt dust into my palm, turning to Derek. I held his arm firmly, pressing my palm into the angry-looking wound and grinding the powder into the raw skin.

Derek sank his teeth into his lip, his eyes burning the blue that came with killing an innocent. That came with putting Paige out of her misery.

When it was done, Derek sat there, breathing heavily. His chest heaved, and his pale green eyes were full of gratitude I knew he couldn't say.

"Are you going to leave again?" I blurted out, instantly regretting the words.

Derek's eyes widened as he looked at me. "W- no. No," he said, his voice firm. "Not again. I'm not going to leave you, okay? You're stuck with me, kid."

He gave me a half-hearted grin, his eyes full of sadness. I shouldn't have brought up the leaving part, that was a bad move.

I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around Derek's shoulders. He hugged me back, resting his chin on my shoulder. It was a little awkward, because he wasn't wearing a shirt, but it wasn't, because he was my brother.

"I'm not going to leave you again," he mumbled, drawing back to smile softly. "I promise."

And I trusted him, I trusted Derek; but one phrase kept running across my mind, taunting me.

Promises are made to be broken.

•••