˗ˏˋ⋆ H E A V E N L Y ⋆ˎˊ˗
↳ 𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕
𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧, 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦
(𝔐𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔱)
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GRACIE WAS TAPPING HER PENCIL AGAINST HER DESK AS SHE WAITED for one of her tests to be returned. Nerves filled her as she feared the grade she got.
Meanwhile, sitting in front of her, Stiles was focused on something else. The night that the bus driver ended up dying, which was the night Scott confronted Derek about everything. After beating him up, Gracie's brother revealed that he, in fact, wasn't the werewolf that bit Scott and that there was another werewolf entirely. An alpha werewolf that wanted Scott in it's pack.
Stiles leaned forward, whispering to Scott, who sat in front of him. "If Derek isn't the Alpha, if he's not the one who bit you, then who did?"
"I don't know," Scott whispered.
"Did the Alpha kill the bus driver?" Stiles asked, clearly not giving it a break.
"I don't know," Scott sighed.
Stiles let out a heavy sigh, sitting back in his seat. "Does Allison's dad know about the Alpha?"
"I don't know!" Scott snapped, making Stiles flinch. Everyone, including Gracie, looked at them as Scott shook his head. "Jeez."
Stiles sheepishly raised his eyebrows and shrunk away from his best friend, trying to get the attention off himself.
Thankfully, Mrs. Larson came around to their aisle. Gracie sighed as her teacher gave her a small smile as she handed the Hale girl back her graded test. She bit the inside of her cheek to fight her smile as she looked at her perfect score. Mrs. Larson handed Stiles his test and then gave one to Scott next.
"Dude, you need to study more," Stiles commented after seeing his "A" and Scott's "D".
"I know..." Scott groaned.
"That was a joke," Stiles chuckled. "Scott, it's one test. You're gonna make it up. Do you want help studying?"
"No," Scott shook his head. "I'm studying with Allison after school today."
"That's my boy," Stiles cheered.
"We're just studying."
Stiles scoffed. "No, you're not."
"No, I'm not?" Scott asked turning back to his friend.
"Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you. If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I swear to God I'll have you de-balled," Stiles threatened.
Gracie squinted at the boy with the buzz cut. De-balled?
"Okay. Just stop with the questions, man," Scott groaned, packing up his books.
"Done. No more questions," Stiles accepted. "No more talk about the Alpha or Derek. Especially Derek, who still scares me."
When the bell rang, signaling school was finally over, Gracie headed back to her locker to get her books. She stopped in her tracks when she passed Jackson in the hallway, seeing the look of pain on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. He looked pale as beads of sweat covered his forehead.
"Are you okay, Jackson?" She asked him. "You don't look so good. You should really go to the nurse."
"Your fucking freak-of-a-brother's here," he spat.
Gracie squinted at the lacrosse captain. "What?"
Jackson groaned in response, nodding as she pulled his hand from his neck. In his palm was a square bloody gauze.
Gracie nodded and ran off. She turned the hall, almost as if in a daze, and ran down the stairs. She must have walked around the entire school twice when she finally found her brother leaning up against a wall.
"Oh, my God," she gasped as she rushed over. He looked paler than usual with dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot, which made his pale-green eyes stand out. Upon further examination, she could see blood dripping down his left hand and worry pooled in her stomach, wondering what the hell happened, rambling a little too quickly for her brother to comprehend when she spoke, "Der, what are you doing here? What happened? Are you okay?"
"I was shot," he managed to breathe out.
"S-shot?" Gracie stammered, her breathing quickening as she started to panic. "Like really shot?" She cringed as he weakly showed her the bullet that was lodged in his arm. The wound was bloody with black veins sprouting from it. "Oh, my God. You were shot."
"I-I think it's wolfsbane," Derek suggested. "I need help."
"What can I do?"
"Find Scott. I need his help."
Gracie nodded. "Let me guess. It was the Argents."
Derek nodded. "It was Kate. She's back in town. She's the one who shot me."
Gracie tried to stay calm when she heard that name. Kate Argent was in her early twenties when she approached Derek and manipulated him to get him to trust her before burning down the Hale house.
"Okay," Gracie hummed as she grabbed her older brother, helping him lean on her while she tried to lead him out of the school. "We just need to find Scott. Well, where Scott is, Stiles is. So if we find Stiles, we find Scott."
With him being twice her size, she slowly made her way out of the school to the parking lot. Her eyes widened when she saw Stiles walking towards his blue Jeep. She sped up, practically dragging Derek behind her, and stepped in front of Stiles' car when he pulled out of his parking spot and started to drive off.
"Oh, my God," he gasped, hitting the brakes as his tire screeched against the asphalt when they stopped abruptly. Gracie's grip slipped and her brother collapsed to the ground.
"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me. This guy's everywhere," Stiles mumbled, turning off his car and getting out as Scott ran over.
Sliding to her knees, Gracie patted Derek's cheeks, trying to bring him back to consciousness.
"What the hell? What are you doing here?" The teen wolf crouched down beside them as Stiles did the same. They ignored the long line of car forming behind them and the honking noises that filled the air.
"I was shot," Derek grunted in pain, his skin was turning white.
"He's not looking so good, dude," Stiles commented unhelpfully.
"Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked, seeing his wound. When he was shot with the arrow by Mr. Argent, he healed within minutes.
"I can't. It was...it was a different kind of bullet," Derek explained.
"A silver bullet?" Stiles gasped. Gracie rolled her eyes at the Stilinski boy.
"No, you idiot."
"Wait, wait. That's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours," Scott mumbled to himself.
"What?" Gracie asked quickly, wondering what the hell he was talking about. "Who said forty-eight hours?"
"The one who shot him," Scott said. Just then, as Derek started grunted and groaning, his eyes flashed blue, flickering as he started to shift. "What are you doing? Stop that!"
"Derek, your eyes!" His sister pointed out, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm trying to tell you, I can't!"
"Derek, get up!" Scott instructed as he helped him to his feet, turning back to Stiles. "Help me to put him in your car."
"We need your help, Scott," Gracie said firmly, giving the teen wolf a pleading look.
"I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used," Derek said as they helped him get in the front seat, ignoring the honking and yelling from behind them as a long line of cars was starting from behind them.
Scott scoffed. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"
"'Cause she's an Argent," Gracie said, leaning in between the front seats after sitting in the back. "She's with them."
Scott looked back at Derek, narrowing his eyes. "Why should I help you?"
"Because you need me," Derek insisted.
"Fine. I'll try," Scott caved, looking to Stiles and an extremely relieved Gracie. "Hey get him out of here."
Stiles gritted his teeth and put the Jeep in drive. "I hate you for this so much."
Stiles angrily pursed his lips, sneaking glances in the rear-view mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot, the horns honking and yelling finally ended when the line finally moved.
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THEY HAD ALREADY BEEN ON THE ROAD FOR A HALF-HOUR. IT SEEMED LIKE they were near the Beacon Hills Preserve as Gracie stared out the window. Meanwhile, Stiles was still waiting to hear from Scott. He knew he told Scott not to squander his opportunity to hook up with Allison but he hoped that his best friend had enough sense to know that things had changed.
The sooner that Scott found out what kind of bullet Derek was shot with, the better.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed from his cup holder; he checked the message from Scott, which basically said that he needed more time. Stiles huffed and slammed the phone back into the cup holder.
"Any news?" Gracie asked, leaning forward on the back of the front two seats.
"He needs more time," Stiles answered grumpily. He glanced at Derek, who's wound was only getting worse. "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay?" We're almost there."
"Almost where?" Gracie sat forward, resting her forearms on the back of the front two seats.
"Your house," Stiles answered.
"What?" Derek asked, abruptly turning his head weakly towards him.
"Why?" Gracie looked at him incredulously.
"What do you mean 'why'?" Stiles asked.
"We don't actually live there, Stiles. You get that, right? Besides, you can't take him there," Gracie objected, shaking her head like her brother.
Stiles gave the two of them bewildered looks, quickly losing his patience. "Why not?"
"You can't take me there when I can't protect myself," Derek said, as though it should be obvious to Stiles. His sister nodded in agreement.
Stiles shook his head, clearly fed up now from what Gracie could tell. He pulled over to the side of the road as he parked his car and looked at Derek.
"All right," he raised his voice. "What happens if Scott doesn't find your little 'magic bullet?' Hmm? Are you dying?"
Derek simply shook his head. "Not yet. I have a last resort."
"What do you mean? What last resort?" Stiles shouted. Derek raised his sleeve, exposing his wound and the Stilinski boy gagged. "Oh, my God. What the fuck is that?"
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄:
So that's chapter eight. Uhm...I don't really have anything to say other than...What do you guys think? Please comment and vote. If you enjoyed it, please share it.