Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Magic Bullet Part 3

Derek's black vomit splashed onto my shoes and jeans, and I jumped back, squealing.

"Aw, come on, dude! That's never coming out," I whined.

"Holy god, what the hell is that?" Stiles said, his voice high with unease. The little space between his eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes squinted at the sight.

Derek panted, hanging his head over the side. "It's my body trying to heal itself."

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it," Stiles commented. Derek looked up at him.

"Now. You gotta do it now."

Stiles looked to me, my face pinched with nerves and disgust, then stared at the saw. "Look, honestly, I don't think I can do this."

"Just do it!" Derek screamed.

"Oh my god..." Stiles grabbed the saw and it whirred again. "Okay, okay..." Stiles put the saw just under the band, looking away. "Oh, god."

I turned my head, bringing my hand up to my face so that I could look away when I needed to.

"Alright, here we go!" Stiles yelled. I screamed, the adrenaline coursing through my body. You know when you get too nervous or excited and there's literally nothing you can do but scream? Yeah, that's how I felt. I felt like I needed to break something and scream forever.

"Stiles? Y/N?" Scott called. I stopped squealing, sighing with relief.

"Oh, thank god," I said when Scott walked in. He stopped at the sight of Stiles about to saw off Derek's arm.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Scott cried. Stiles chuckled, setting the saw down on the table.

"Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares," Stiles said thankfully.

"Did you get it?" Derek panted. Scott dug in his pocket, pulling out a long, pointed bullet. Derek took it, standing up and looking at it. He blinked at it like blind people blink without their glasses.

"What are you gunna do with it?" I asked.

"I'm gunna... I'm gunna..." Derek's eyes rolled and the bullet fell from his hands as he dropped to the floor. Scott went to find the bullet as I leaned over Derek.

"Derek?" Stiles said, looking down at him. "Derek, come on. Wake up. Scott, what the hell are we gunna do?"

"I don't know!" Scott replied from the floor, looking like he was trying to reach the bullet. I tapped Derek's face, anything to get him awake.

"Open your eyes, you idiot," I hissed. "He's not waking up! I think he's dying. Stiles! Do something!"

"Like what?!"

"Anything, Stiles, he's dying!" I looked at him, he was right in front of my face. He stared at me, blinking like he was trying to think of something.

"I got it!" Scott yelled.

"Derek!" I shouted, squishing his face in my hands.

"Y/N, move," Stiles said, and I did, crawling to the side. Stiles leaned down next to him and pulled back his fist. "Please don't kill me for this." Stiles grunted as he punched Derek in the face. I flinched at the contact, but it made Derek wake up, so it wasn't for nothing. "Ow! God!" Stiles shook out his hand while Derek took the bullet from Scott. Scott and I helped him stand at the table while Stiles complained about the pain in his hand.

Derek shoved the bullet in his mouth and bit off the tip. He let the tip fall from his mouth onto the metal then picked it up and tapped it against the table, letting all the Wolfsbane inside spill out. He grabbed a lighter and light it on fire. It sizzled like a fire work, then died in the span of three seconds, a blue, almost ghastly-looking smoke drifting up from it. Derek swept the scrapings onto his hand. He sighed then held it to the wound.

He groaned, and I could hear it sizzle like it had before. Then he used his finger to dig the Wolfsbane into the bullet hole, the same blue smoke rising from it.

"Oh, god," I groaned, turning into Stiles almost instinctively. I felt his hand wrap around my waist equally as fast as I hid my face in his shoulder.

Derek started to scream loudly, and he fell to the floor, which made Stiles move backwards out of his way, pulling me with him. I peeked out to see Derek arching off the floor, his hands in fists like the Incredible Hulk as he screamed in pain. A growl started to accompany the scream, and I stepped out of Stiles' arms to see all the black veins and irritation draw back to the bullet hole, then the hole sealed itself, leaving no trace of what had once been there.

"That. Was. Awesome! Yes!" Stiles grinned. I gaped at him, and so did Scott. He looked at both of us innocently, still grinning at the 'awesomeness' of what just happened.

Derek sat up, just breathing.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Well, except for the agonizing pain?" he snarked.

"Aaand, he back, ladies and gentlemen. Derek Hale with his award-winning sarcasm and uplifting humor," I mumbled as Derek stood. He stared at me with pursed lips and I smiled innocently. "I mean, welcome back to the land of the living." Derek shook his head and started to untie the band from his arm.

"Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gunna leave us alone, you got that?" Scott told him. Derek looked up at him. "And if you don't, I'm gunna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gunna tell him everything-."

"You're gunna trust them?" Derek asked. "You think they can help you?"

"Well, why not?" Scott shrugged. "They're a lot freaking nicer than you are." Derek stared, then chuckled inaudibly.

"Yeah, I can show you exactly how nice they are."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked.

"Let me show you. Come with me." Derek walked out, expecting Scott to follow, which he did.

"Yeah, you're welcome!" Stiles called after him, then he turned to me and scoffed. "Can you believe that guy?"

"Yeah, seriously." Then because I couldn't give him everything he wanted, I sighed and said, "But he sure did look amazing without a shirt on."

"Oh, come on, really? Really, Y/N?" Stiles squinted at me, shaking his head.

I giggled, looking around. "We should clean this up. Deaton would be pissed if he came to work and saw this."

Stiles seemed like that was the last thing he wanted to do but nodded anyway. I grabbed a mop from the broom closet and started cleaning up the floor of Derek's puke while Stiles cleaned off the table and put everything back where it was supposed to go. Afterwards, I stood at the door, crossing my arms and looking at the room.

"Looks good. Alright. I'm tired. Take me home," I sighed. Stiles nodded, and we turned to go back home.