Creatures from the Ocean (Sciles)

39: A Fatal Shot

"Why did you do that?" I shout at her, my voice filled with anger and betrayal.

"I always knew you weren't going to kill me, Stiles. I also knew you weren't going to come with me just like that. I let you win easily so that we could end up here. I always planned on shooting Scott. Why, you might ask? Just because I'm bored and I wanted to do something fun. That is why the bullet in the gun was laced with a very rare type of plant that poisons any supernatural creature that is born on land. It's called a bloodflower. Good luck trying to cure that. The bloodflower is rare, but the plant for the antidote is even more rare. If I were you, I would say goodbye to your friend now. The bloodflower, without a cure, causes an extremely slow and painful death. I'm surprised you didn't think about this whole thing being too easy, but no matter now. I'm not going to hurt you now because I know that we will meet again. I have a strong feeling that the next time we meet is very soon, Stiles. Farewell for now." Vanessa says before vanishing into thin air. With her gone, I focus all my attention back onto Scott, who is now extremely pale, even in this moonlight. Scott's eyes roll into the back of his head many times, but I continuously shake him to keep him awake. "Come on buddy, stay with me! Don't fall asleep, you might not wake up!" I plead, trying not to break down. Now is not the time to let emotions get in the way. I need to be strong for Scott and everyone else. Scott looks at me, his eyes glazed over slightly, like he can't focus properly. The sticky warm feeling of blood continues to grow on my hands. Scott's breathing becomes long and rattly. "We need to get him to Deaton's. He will know what to do." I tell the pack. I pick up Scott by grabbing under his arms and help pull him to his feet. I sling one of his arms around my shoulders to give him support. He leans on me a little. "Lets go!" I say loudly. All of us start walking back through the woods, with me half dragging and half carrying Scott along. Each time I look at him, he slips between consciousness and unconsciousness. I wish we could go faster. I look down at Scott's shirt where the blood is seeping through. The patch of blood just keeps getting bigger. "Stiles, you and Scott can come in my car." Lydia instructs as we get to the road. Only now do I notice the few cars parked on the edge of the preserve. I guess we must have come out a different way. "We'll meet you guys at the clinic." Lydia tells the others. They nod and run towards the other cars. Lydia helps me place Scott on the back seats. Then, Lydia jumps into the driver's seat while I jump into the passenger's seat. She starts the car and races towards Deaton's.

I glance back at Scott. "You're going to be okay, man. I promise." I assure Scott with a faint smile, even though my heart breaks to see Scott in this condition. He looks so pale, fragile, weak, ill, helpless and in pain, all of which are very unlike him. As much as I hate to say it, Scott looks like he's dying. I can't let that happen. "I wish I could take your pain, Scotty." I say wistfully, using a nickname that I haven't spoken in years.

"Don't worry about me, Stiles. I will be fine." He croaks in reply, the tiniest bit of crimson red blood leaking out of his mouth. Oh god, please don't let this be a repeat of what Daniel did to me. "You haven't used that nickname in a while." Scott comments with a smile.

"I know," I reply softly. For a moment, I reach backwards and hold onto Scott's hand, squeezing it comfortingly, assuring him that he is going to be okay. I then let go of his hand and turn back around and stare forwards at the road ahead of us. "Lydia, I just wanted to ask, are you getting any sort of... Feelings?" I question, assuming that she knows what I'm talking about. Thankfully, she does. "Not really. All I'm feeling is uncomfortable and the urge to move around, but that's probably just my own nerves and anxiety." Lydia answers with a shrug. I breathe a small sigh of relief. That gives me a slight ray of hope. For the rest of the drive, I keep turning around and calmly reassuring Scott that he is going to be okay. Once we get to Deaton's, Lydia helps me lift Scott out of the car and we basically carry him into the animal clinic. It's funny how we always expect it to be empty. "Stiles, we should call his mom when we get the chance. She needs to know what happened." Lydia tells me.