Broken Roots ✵ Derek Hale

Magic Bullet ✵ 4.2

⚲ PARKING LOT, Beacon Hills High School

Stiles navigated through the crowd of students pouring out of the school, relieved that the school day was finally over. With a huff of relief, he headed towards the parking lot where his Jeep was waiting. After tossing his backpack onto the backseat, he settled into the driver's seat and began to navigate towards the exit lane.

Suddenly, Derek stepped right in front of the Jeep, weakly raising his arm to signal for Stiles to stop. Stiles slammed on the brakes just in time, his heart pounding in his chest, "Oh, my God!"

Derek swayed on his feet, his arm still extended.

Meanwhile, Scott was busy unlocking his bike from the rack and saying goodbye to Cali who was preparing to get into her car. The blare of honking horns caught his attention, and he turned his head to see Derek still standing in front of Stiles' halted Jeep. A line of cars had formed behind them, each driver eager to get home. Scott muttered to himself, "Oh, no, no, no! Not here!" as he scanned the area, eyes darting around, before sprinting towards Stiles' Jeep.

From her position inside her car, Cali watched Scott's swift movements. Just as she turned her gaze to look through the rear windshield, Derek's legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the pavement before Stiles's car. Reacting instinctively, Cali quickly exited her car, loudly slamming the driver's door and rushed to Derek's side.

Stiles, threw his arms up in exasperation. "You've gotta be kidding me. This guy's everywhere!"

The honking horns grew louder, drawing the attention of students and bystanders outside the school. Stiles spun around, his eyes widening as he took in the line of cars snarled behind his stalled Jeep. The scene was now attracting an audience of onlookers who were curious as to what was causing such a commotion.

Scott finally reached Stiles's car, throws up his own arms as he speaks to Stiles through his open window, "What the hell?"

Stiles scrambled to open his door, joining Scott and Derek as his friend knelt beside him. Cali hurried over, her expression filled with panic as she crouched down in front of Derek.

"Why are you here?" Scott asked, his voice low with worry.

Derek struggled to speak, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. "I got shot," he managed to say, his face contorted in pain.

Cali touched his cheek, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. His labored breathing and the light sheen of sweat on his face made her heart race with anxiety. She glanced down at his limp left arm laying across his lap, a wave of intense worry washing over her.

"He looks really bad," Stiles remarked.

Confusion furrowed Scott's brow. "Why aren't you healing?"

Derek grimaced, his eyes shutting tightly as he fought to stay conscious. "I can't," he replied, his voice strained and his breath still ragged. "It wasn't a normal bullet."

Cali gently took his arm, slowly rolling up his sleeve to examine the wound. Stiles's eyes widened with excitement at Derek's revelation. "A silver bullet?" he exclaimed eagerly.

Cali halted her movements of fumbling with Derek's sleeve, turning to shoot Stiles a reproachful look before delivering a swift hit to his shin, her way of scolding him.

Derek manages to muster enough strength to shoot Stiles an irritated glare, his expression sour. "No, you idiot."

Scott's eyes widen in sudden realization as he pieces together what he's witnessing with what he had overheard Kate discussing the previous night. "Wait, wait," he interjects, his voice tinged with understanding, "that's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours..."