Becoming The Vixen (Teen Wolf)

8 - Both

        "Keep going." Derek orders.

        My arms feel as if they are on fire, every movement making me feel like I'm going to collapse on the floor. I bite my lip, forcing myself down to the ground once more. Derek's boots are leveled with my face, only five feet away from me. My arms shake uncontrollably as I struggle immensely to push my body back up. Push ups are not for me. 

        "There's nothing in here about Kate." Derek flips through the folder that Braeden stole from the police station. 

        Braeden came dressed here in a US Marshal uniform, tossing the folder in Derek's chest. Derek refused to let me take a break, while Braeden changed, literally right in front of us, and he looked through the information about the axe murder.

        "This killer used an axe." I huff from the next push up. 

        Braeden scoops up her t-shirt, clad in jeans and a black bra. "Actually, he used a military tomahawk." 

        "That's not in this report." Derek says to her before looking down at me. "Five more." 

        I groan, but continue on. 

        Braeden pulls her shirt on over her head. "I know."

        I will myself to not give up yet. If I stop before I get to the last of them, Derek will make me do even more. I can't handle that. 

        "Are you going to tell me what else you know?"

        "Not yet. 'Cause I don't really know much." 

        I fall on the ground once I complete all of them. My arms feel like lead. If I stood up right now, I'd probably puke everywhere. These trainings are going to be the death of me. Dad has been curious to know where I have been going every other night and I told him part of the truth, I'm working out. He believes me, too, because I'll come home, exhausted and weak. I press my cheek against the cool floor, ignoring the fact that Derek probably never sweeps.

        "But, you know something." Derek shuts the folder and turns around to face Braeden, who is now, fully clothed.

        "Maybe. The problem is the people I need to talk to right now, don't talk to people like you."

        "You want me to wait for you?"

        "I want you to trust me."

        I roll over on my back, staring up at the tall ceiling. "Yeah, and why should we trust someone that we know nothing about?"

        Braeden's eyes land on me from where she is standing at the table. "Yeah, well, I know Derek and I know what he really wants. He wants what Kate stole from him." Braeden rattles off something it Spanish that I can't keep up with. "It means the true nature of someone is reflected in their eyes. In your case, the color of you eyes."

           Braeden walks away from Derek, steps over me after giving me a dirty look, and grabs her jacket from the back of the chair. With her back to me, I flip her the bird, too tired to do anything else.      

        Derek picks up the gun from the top of the table. He tosses it to Braeden. "You get a week."

        The door slams shut behind Braeden. I remain sprawled out on the dirty floor, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep. Derek's gaze falls on me. I inwardly groan. He's about to make me get back to work. I'm hoping this will all become easy one day because, right now, I feel like I am going to die. I don't want to die.