My Love for Derek Hale *Discontinued*

Magic Bullet

"So you dated an abusive, stalking psychopathic asshole?"

"He never hit me before that day. How was I supposed to know he was going to do what he did?"

"I can't play because of him!"

"I didn't ask you to defend me!"

He sighs. "I did it because I care about you, a lot."

I put a hand on his face and press our foreheads together. "Lucas, I don't want to see you hurt again."

He puts a hand on my cast then runs his fingers on all my visible bruises. "I don't want to see you hurt, either." We break apart and I help him get in his car. Before he steps in, he asks me, "By the way, what's up with Stilinski?"

I look back and see Stiles by his Jeep, waiting for me. I look back and shake my head. "There's nothing going on between us. I told you that before."

I sit in the passenger seat of Stiles' Jeep while he pulls out of the parking lot. I rest my foot on his dashboard and, while I'm looking at my phone, I smell another werewolf and it isn't Scott. Just when I look up, Derek comes walking in front of the Jeep. Stiles slams on the brake.

I clutch my seat belt. Derek holds his hand up to signal us to stop and he collapses onto the ground. I jump out, along with Stiles. Scott follows behind. Derek looks pale and weak. "What the hell are you doing here?!" Scott asks.

"I was shot," is his only response.

From last night. "Why aren't you healing?"

"It was a different kind of bullet."

"Oh, a silver bullet?" Stiles asks, in an enthusiastic voice.

"No, you idiot," Derek says with a weak eye roll.

His eyes start glowing and his fangs are clearly visible. "Stop doing that," I say, glancing at the traffic behind the Jeep.

"I'm trying to tell you, I can't."

Wolfsbane, I think to myself. I clench my arm. Scott and I haul him into the passenger seat of Stiles' Jeep. "I hate you so much for this," Stiles says before driving off.

I hop in the back seat and Stiles skids off. The drive is completely silent. I notice Derek is looking more sick and pale by the minute. As we're driving, Stiles breaks the silence. "Try not to bleed out on my seats. We're almost there."

"Almost where?" Derek asks.

"Your house?"

"What? You can't take me there."

I lean in between the seats. "We can't take you to your own house?"

He glares at me. "Not when I can't defend myself."

I hate his glare. It scares and pisses me off the same time. Stiles comes to an immediate stop and parks by the curb. "What if Scott doesn't find your magic bullet? Hm? Are you dying?"

"Not yet but I have a last resort."

Derek then pulls up his sleeve and reveals a bloody gunshot wound that was deep and gushy. I clench my damaged arm and pry to the heavens mine doesn't look like that. Both me and Stiles cringe. "I think I'm gonna throw up everything I've eaten my whole life. What the hell is that?" I say.

"Is that contagious? You should probably just get out."

"Start the car, now."

"I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look. If I wanted to, I could drag your little werewolf ass into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."