Monsters | Stiles Stilinski

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑

   "YEAH OF COURSE YOU ARE." I muttered. The thing was though, I wasn't being sarcastic. I was being deadly serious, "That's just our luck right now."

"What are we gonna do?" Stiles asked, although it was directed mostly to me.

I dragged my hand through my hair and shook my head, "I don't know, Stiles. I just wanted to go to bed."

As we spoke Derek used his good hand to take his wounded arm out of the sleeve of his top and I watched him in confusion before he tried to get himself up off the floor.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked him with a shake of his head.

"Yeah. Do you need help?" I added.

"It'd be appreciated." He snapped somewhat.

I rolled my eyes at his tone and walked over, letting him sling his arm over my shoulders. I wasn't very strong to be honest so I wasn't taking much of his weight, if any at all and the both of us followed Stiles into the clinic room. He turned the lights on as Derek removed his jumper completely, tossing it on the side and taking his arm away from my shoulders.

I stepped back and watched him walk over to the metal table, seeing the tattoo in between his shoulder blades before he leaned on the table, his forearm towards the ceiling.

I stood next to Stiles as I looked down to the wound and my stomach churned at the sight. I clenched my jaw while averting my eyes, feeling my legs start to tingle a little. The wound was open and fresh blood dripped down from it and Derek's veins in his arm were a purple colour with a black tinge. I had to breathe in and out very slowly in order to prevent myself from going dizzy or passing out.

"You know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." Stiles remarked sarcastically under the pressure.

"When the infection reachers my heart it'll kill me." Derek responded heavily.

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles quipped as Derek began to rummage around for something.

When I had managed to compose myself I turned back to the metal table and let out a long breath.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time... last resort."

Stiles shrugged, "Which is?"

And then he held up what looked like a bone saw, "You're going to cut off my arm."

"Oh, god." I muttered quickly, feeling my knees buckle underneath me. I didn't know if it was the sight of the saw or the concept of cutting Derek's arm off which made my legs give in, or even if it was a combination of both but that very nearly made me pass out.

Stiles didn't reply and I spoke again as I leaned on the table, "No, no." I shook my head firmly, "I'm going to take a hard pass on that one. Thanks, but no thanks."

Derek slid the bone saw over to Stiles while he tied a tourniquet around his bicep. He picked it up briefly before putting it back down, "Oh my god. What if you bleed to death?"

"It'll heal if it works." Derek replied.

I shook my head at the unconvincing reply, "This was not how I wanted to spend my night."