Blind ✥ HALE

1.2: Agony.

❝It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.❞

✥

"Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there. And Mia, can you please try calling Scott again?"

I stick my tongue out in Stiles' general direction, not liking his bossy attitude. But nevertheless, I open up the hands-free app on my phone to call my cousin. I press the device against my ear, the annoying ringing sounds beginning to echo in my skull. Why do I have a feeling that I'll be sent to voicemail? Again? As I wait impatiently, Derek speaks up from his place in the passenger's seat in front of me.

"Almost where?" he groans.

"Your house," Stiles replies in a 'duh' kind of tone.

I can feel Derek shoot up in his seat. "What? No, you can't take me there."

"What are you talking about? He can't take you to your own house?" I ask, confused. Hell, if I was bleeding out and about to die, I'd at least wanna die in my bed.

"Not when I can't protect myself," Derek says.

"That makes absolutely no sense," I argue.

Stiles decides to chime in, ending the discussion. "All right. What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?"

"Not yet," the werewolf huffs. "I have a last resort."

I sit straighter at that. Leaning forward out of curiosity, I ask, "What do you mean?"

"What last resort?" Stiles adds.

I hear movements coming from Derek, and I frown as I wait to hear some sort of reaction, anything at all. And I get one from Stiles, who sounds disgusted and on the verge of throwing himself out of the moving vehicle. "Oh, my God. What is that? Oh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out."

Suddenly, the Jeep comes to a stop and the engine shuts off. And I swear to God, a small growl rumbles from Derek's chest. "Uh, guys? What's going on?" I question nervously.

I'm ignored, Derek starting to threaten Stiles instead of answering my damn questions. "Start the car. Now."

"I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay?" Stiles retorts vehemently. "In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

I roll my eyes. "No one is leaving anyone to die. Stiles, just listen to the man."

Stiles lets out an offended gasp, and he turns around in his spot and grips my face as if he were trying to perform an exorcism on my ass. "Are you being serious right now, Mimi? Since when are we all buddy-buddy with this guy? We hate him!"

"Uh..." A blush begins to creep onto my face, and I bite the inside of my cheek as I pretend to be insulted at his declaration and escape his grasp. "R-right! Of course we hate his ass! But, uh..." Yeah, I got nothing.

Derek groans in both annoyance and pain. "You know what? Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out—With my teeth."

I freeze at the warning, as does Stiles. Soon enough, the roar of the Jeep's engine is heard and once again, we're tearing down the street. I lean back into my seat, breathing out a sigh of relief since the attention is shifted from me to Derek, whose panting is getting louder and louder as more time passes by.