Never Let Me Go (Derek Hale Fanfiction Book #3)

Chapter Twenty-Four: She's Come Undone

                           “Chris what are you guys doing out here?” Lydia shouted as she and Stiles ran forward, they’re steps stumbling as their eyes took in the blood covering Aiden’s chest and soaking into my clothes, the wracking sobs tormenting me, and the gun lying half a foot away from us.

“Oh God, what happened?” Stiles shouted, running forward to grab the gun and spinning a full circle, as though trying to find whoever had shot Aiden and protect me from them.If only he knew.

“I-I killed him,” I whispered brokenly, clenching Aiden’s lifeless body more tightly in my arms as my forehead fell to his dripping shirtsleeve with a squelch and a stream of fresh tears from me. Without even looking, I could feel Stiles and Lydia both take a small step away from me, could picture the wary look in their eyes like “Is our friend losing her mind?”

“You...you can’t be serious. There’s no way…” Stiles trailed off as I whipped around to glare at him furiously, scrambling to my feet and snatching the gun out of his hand. Aiden flopped to the ground by my feet as I met my friends’ concerned expressions with wild rage and searing guilt. 

“And you know what the best part is? IT DIDN’T EVEN WORK! I was supposed to be human again,” I roared, brandishing the gun in Stiles’ face furiously. Neither of them knew what the hell I was talking about, but there was no stopping the self-hatred coursing so fast through my veins that I wanted to put the gun to my head right then and there. I killed my best friend. I killed him, in cold blood. Shot him. Before either of them could do anything, I put the gun to my wrist and pulled the trigger for the second time that day, the boom echoing around the field as Lydia shrieked in surprise and Stiles grabbed her in his arms, both of them ducking as though suddenly under attack. 

“What the HELL was that?!” Lydia screamed, all three of us watching as the gaping hole began to close up in my arm. The veins laced back across the muscle, the skin reknitted itself and the scar faded all in the span of fifteen seconds. Dropping to my knees over Aiden’s body, every ounce of my energy drained out of me as though it had all gone into healing the gunshot wound.

“I was supposed to be human again.”

                              The rest of the day passed very much like the others had. Once I woke up, I stayed in bed until somebody came in to check if I was awake, and then I had to deal with Derek’s persistent attempts to get food down my throat, to no avail. After that the TV was put on, my laptop, books, and iPod were all scattered on the bed around me in case I needed something to entertain myself, and then I was left alone for about three hours. The peace and quiet was only broken by the ritual phone call from Stiles at lunchtime, which I ignored, and then Derek was back to try to get me to eat once more.

                “Come on. Our baby is nearly five and a half months old - she needs food. Chris, honey, please-”

“I said no. This baby is the reason Aiden is dead,” I snapped back, my voice monotone and my expression unchanging even as Derek’s hands stroked my cheeks, brushed my hair back, and rubbed my baby bump. 

“No, you’re the reason Aiden is dead. And the sooner you accept that the better,” another voice came from the doorway, and Derek’s head whipped around so he could shoot a glare at Virgin, who’s glittery pumps click-clacked down the hall as she left. Tears filled my already aching eyes, which never ceased crying at the slightest reminder of Aiden, and I yanked my chin out of my husband’s grasp.

                              “Please leave,” I mumbled hoarsely, a single hot tear tracing the groove in my cheek as it rolled down and dropped off my jaw, landing on the comforter tucked around my torso. I could feel Derek’s eyes on me as he leaned over and set my iPod up on the dock beside our bed, hitting a few buttons before “So Cold” by Ben Cocks came on.