c h a p t e r n i n e
a cure
Stiles had been driving aimlessly for about an hour, Derek complaining in the back while Harper used Stiles' phone to try and get a hold of Scott, who was not answering. She groaned loudly, feeling annoyance bubble inside her as she texted him.
To Scott: have you found it yet?
Much to her surprise, about half a minute later, Stiles' phone dinged from her lap, causing her to jump up a little in excitement. She quickly read the text.
"He says he needs more time." Harper rolled her eyes, her optimism falling faster than her grades so far this year.
Stiles just huffed. "Come on." He frowned angrily as he turned to Derek. "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there."
Harper sighed a little at Stiles' lack of sympathy. Derek didn't look up from where he was concentrating on keeping awake. "Almost where?" His voice was soft and croaky, like he didn't even have it in him to be rude.
Stiles sighed as if it was obvious. "Your house."
Derek's head finally snapped up, a new found energy within him. "What?" He replied. "No, you can't take me there."
"Why not?" Harper asked while Stiles just scoffed.
"I can't protect myself." He shook his head.
Stiles, clearly extremely annoyed now, pulled over onto the side of the road and turned off the engine. He turned around in his seat to face the older werewolf, anger written all over his face.
"What happens if Scott can't find your little magic bullet? Hmm?" Stiles hissed, mocking Derek with every word that fell from his lips. "Are you dying?"
Derek wheezed. "Not yet. I have a last resort."
Stiles laughed sarcastically, raising his voice. "What do you mean? What last resort?"
Harper's hand shot to her mouth as Derek pulled up his dark sleeves, revealing the wound in his arm. Stiles turned away from it, disgust written all over his face. Blood was all around the hole in his arm, making her squirm.
"Oh my God. What is that?" She looked away.
"Ugh, is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out." Stiles spoke in disgust, barely looking at Derek.
"Start the car. Now." Derek ordered, his breath shortening. Harper honestly kind of felt bad for the guy. After all, he was dying and Stiles was basically refusing to help.
"I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look." Stiles finally turned to face him confidently.
"Stiles." She warned lowly.
"In fact," the hazel eyed boy ignored her. "I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."
Derek's arm suddenly snapped out, grabbing Harper by the throat. Her brown eyes widened, panic filling her body as her dainty hands moved to wrap around his arm. Stiles' eyes instantly widened.
Never mind, she took back what she said about feeling sorry for him.
"Start the car, or I'm going to rip your girlfriend's throat out with my teeth." He growled deeply and Harper felt his grip tighten on her, warning Stiles.
"Okay, okay, okay." He muttered, lifting his hands up in defence. "Just move your claws away from Harper's throat and I'll start the car."
Stiles tried to hide the panic that was filling him. He stared anxiously, his palms already slightly sweaty.
Derek listened, retracting his long werewolf claws and unwrapping his hand from around her throat. Harper's fingers went up to touch her neck, feeling the slight stinging sensation that was still there.
"Are you okay?" Stiles asked Harper worriedly.
"Yes!" She nodded. "Now start the car before the werewolf in the backseat of your car actually rips our throats out this time."
Stiles nodded quickly, starting the engine.
☹☻
About an hour later, they were still driving around in the dark with no response from Scott. Harper took Stiles' phone and texted him.
To Scott: Derek not looking good.
The brown haired werewolf didn't reply for another half an hour. She actually wanted to kill Scott as she leaned her head against the window and looked out at the lack of scenery they were driving past. Derek was muttering things under his breath from the back while Stiles just drove, a permanent frown on his face.
Harper decided to text him again.
To Scott: Call us.
With no reply over an hour later, Stiles pulled up on the side of the road, leaving an endless amount of voicemails for Scott. Suddenly, the phone began to ring, causing the two teenagers to jump up in their seats.
"How's Derek?" Stiles put Scott on speaker, sounding stressed.
"Barely alive." Harper retorted.
Scott sighed, "I'm working this out."
Stiles exclaimed through gritted teeth. "What am I supposed to do with him?"
"Take him somewhere! Anywhere!" Scott hissed. It sounded like he was pacing on the other side of the phone.
Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose. "And by the way, he's starting to smell." He sighed, causing Derek to shoot him a glare.
"Like what?"
"Like death." Harper informed him.
Scott didn't say anything for a moment, obviously trying to think of something. She really hoped he thought of something soon. Despite the fact that Derek is a complete asshole that threatened to kill her, she didn't want him to die. Not wanting to see somebody die is just part of being a normal, functioning human being.
"Okay. Take him to the animal clinic." Scott told them.
Harper frowned. "What about Deaton?"
Deaton was Scott's boss.
"He's gone by now." Scott explained. "There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster."
Stiles sighed, handing the phone over to Derek. "You're not going to believe where he's telling me to take you."
Derek ignored him, taking Scott off speaker and pressing the phone to his ear. "Did you find it?" He asked, his voice deep. He sounded spaced out.
"If you don't find it then I'm dead, all right?"
"Then think about this." Derek paused for a second. "The Alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time, you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you want to stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet."
He hung up without giving Scott a chance to reply.
☹☻
Stiles pulled up in front of the animal clinic and Harper quickly jumped out of the jeep to go and get the key from behind the bins. While Stiles was helping Derek out, Harper got onto her knees and began to look, finding it under a brick.
The brunette unlocked the door and Stiles pulled the garage door upwards into the ceiling. His phone buzzed so he checked it, just as Derek fell onto some bags of dog food, clutching his arm. He looked awful.
His dark brown hair was sticking to his face with sweat, his eyes were red and his skin was even paler than Snow White.
"Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Stiles asked as he turned around.
Dogs were barking from their kennels so loudly that Harper was worried someone would come looking.
Derek gritted his teeth in pain. "It's a rare form of wolvesbane. He has to bring me the bullet."
"Why?" Harper asked.
The werewolf looked up, his green eyes boring into her brown ones. "Because I'm going to die without it." He replied.
For somebody dying he sounded oddly calm. Stiles and Harper both shared looks.
"Text Scott." She told him. "We need to help Derek into the vets room so he can sit down properly."
Stiles nodded, rushing to text Scott before we began to guide Derek towards the vets room. The hazel eyed boy pushed the doors open and Harper flicked the light switch, the florescent lights quickly flickering on. Derek began to tug his shirt off, causing Harper to gulp slightly.
Drooling over a dying guys abs is wrong, Harper.
Derek breathed heavily, stumbling over to the metal table in the middle of the room and placing his arm on it. She flinched at the sight of it. The bullet wound had dark red blood dripping from it, but the veins along his arm were a dark red and almost black colour, spreading up to his shoulder and down to his hand.
Stiles stuttered. "You know. That really doesn't look like anything some Echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." He tried to lighten the mood with a small scoff.
Harper frowned at him. "Not the time, Stiles." She ran a hand through her long, brown hair anxiously.
"When the infection reaches my heart, it will kill me." His breaths got heavier with every single word that left his lips.
As Derek began to look through cupboards, Harper moved to Stiles' side, feeling her anxiety start to kick in. She felt like to have a panic attack right now would be somewhat selfish, since Derek is dying and all. He needs one hundred percent attention, so she needed to calm down. How does she do this?
She stays next to Stiles.
"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" He spoke sarcastically at the werewolf, watching as he slammed the cupboard door shut.
"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time, last resort..." He searched through a drawer of pills.
"Which is?" Harper questioned worriedly, a frown on her face.
Derek finally found what he was looking for, holding up an electric saw. "One of you is going to cut off my arm."
Stiles' mouth fell open and he was finally stunned into silence while Harper began to blink rapidly, trying to comprehend what Derek had just instructed them. Cut off his arm?
Is this guy serious right now? The look on his face told her that he was telling the truth and she rubbed her sweaty palms together. Derek placed the saw on the table, sliding it over to Stiles who picked it up.
"Oh, my God." He turned away, clearly feeling sick. "What if you bleed to death?"
He dropped the saw as Derek wrapped some thick piece of blue ribbon around the top of his arm. "It'll heal if it works." He told them both, not looking up as he tightened the knot.
Stiles sighed anxiously, his face in complete disbelief. "Look," he gulped. "I don't know if I can do this."
"Why not?" Derek practically growled.
"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone and especially the blood!" He hissed back.
It was Derek's turn for a look of disbelief to cross his face. "You faint at the sight of blood?"
"No. But I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!" He exclaimed.
Derek sighed, his eyes shifting towards the quiet girl. "Fine. You do it then."
Harper gulped. "Me?"
He glared. "You're the only other person in the room." He rolled his eyes. "Cut. Off. My. Arm."
"I can't." She shook her head quickly, trying to think of an excuse off of the top of her head. "My councillor says no more traumatic experiences. Sorry!"
Derek grabbed her arm, his claws coming out. "Oh, not again." Harper rolled her eyes, swallowing her fear as he glared at Stiles.
"Alright, fine. How about this. Either you cut off my arm, or I'm going to cut off her head." He spat.
Stiles shook his head. "Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats anymore-"
The werewolf cut him off by sticking his nails into Harper's wrist tighter, drawing some blood and causing her to hiss out in pain.
"Oh my God, okay!" Stiles frantically spoke. "All right, bought, sold, totally. I'll do it."
Derek's grip on Harper's arm suddenly weakened and he began to breath even heavier, bending over slightly. "What are you doing?" She ignored the pain in her arm as he began to throw up.
But not your average, gross throw-up, it was dark black, disgusting throw-up. Harper shrieked and Stiles groaned loudly, wincing.
"Holy God!" He yelled. "What the hell is that?"
"It's my body." Derek grunted. "It's trying to heal itself."
She tried to hold back her own sick. "Well it's not doing a very good job, is it?" She took a couple of steps back.
Derek ignored Harper and looked at Stiles. "Now." He panted. "You gotta do it now."
Stiles hesitated, looking like he was going to pass out any second. "Look, honestly, I don't think I can." He swayed slightly.
"Just do it!" Derek suddenly burst, his voice causing Harper to jump backwards in shock.
"Oh, my God. Okay. Okay. Oh, my God." Stiles tried to pump himself up as he grabbed the saw. He placed it on Derek's arm. "Alright here we go!" He yelled, bracing himself.
Harper braced herself too, her hands in front of her face ready to cover them. The thing about her councillor telling her to try and stay out of stressful situations wasn't exactly a lie, and she didn't want to see Stiles cut somebodies arm off. She would have nightmares.
"Stiles?" A voice rung from the doorway. "Harper?"
"Scott?" Stiles called back.
The new werewolf came panting around the corner, his brown eyes widening at the scene spread out in front of him. Harper's heartbeat began to slow down to a normal pace. She was just glad that Scott was here.
Thank God for Scott McCall.
"What the hell are you doing?" He yelled.
Stiles just laughed nervously. "Oh, you just prevented me from a life time of nightmares."
Derek panted. "Did you get it?" His face was still pressed against the cool metal of the table.
Scott dug around inside his jeans pocket, quickly pulling out a golden bullet. Derek pulled himself up from the table, his face sweatier than before and his green eyes even duller as he stared at the small object in his hands.
"What are you going to do?" Harper asked quietly, standing next to Stiles again.
"I'm gonna..." he began, only to start wheezing before dropping the bullet. Scott reached out to grab it as it clattered onto the table and then the floor, rolling away. Derek's body hit the ground as he fainted.
Stiles and Harper rushed to help out the werewolf while Scott went looking for the bullet that was supposed to save Derek's life.
"Derek?" She tapped the side of his face, her eyes wide. "C'mon, Derek, you gotta wake up."
Stiles turned to look over at their best friend. "Scott, what the hell are we going to do?" He called anxiously.
"I don't know!" Scott was busy with trying to get the bullet out of the drain it had rolled into, so the short brunette turned back to the unconscious Derek on the floor.
"He's not waking up." She muttered to Stiles, placing her ear over his mouth to check for his breathing. Thankfully, he was still alive. "What do we do, Sti?"
Stiles didn't have time to reply before Scott jumped up, holding the bullet. "I got it! I got it!" He yelled proudly, rushing over to them.
"Please don't kill me for this!" He muttered to Derek and before she could comprehend his words properly, he had lifted his fist up and punched Derek as hard as he could in the face.
"Stiles!" Harper yelled as Derek quickly woke up. Stiles began to yell out, clutching his fist in pain.
She grabbed his hand gently, holding it as Derek snatched the bullet from Scott and ripped the top of it off with his teeth.
Some kind of powder fell onto the table and Derek grabbed a lighter, lighting it up. Harper took a step back as sparks grew quickly before an electrical blue mist took its place. As quick as he could, Derek began to gather the powder into his hands and hesitated before slapping it onto his wound.
She winced as Derek began to scream, his finger going directly into where the bullet had been. He grunted, falling to the ground and screaming, his back arching from the ground uncontrollably. Scott and Stiles watched in complete shock as one last scream ripped through Derek before the wound began to heal right before their eyes.
First the dark veins left and then the actual wound itself.
"That was awesome!" Stiles grinned in awe, causing Harper to shoot him a glare. He always chose to find the most strangest things the coolest.
"Are you okay?" Both Scott and Harper asked at the same time. Harper was worried while Scott was confused.
"Except for the agonising pain?" Derek sarcastically replied as he sat up, his voice sounding like he was never even hurt in the first place.
Stiles shot back, "I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health."
The werewolf just glared.
"Okay, we saved your life, which means you're going to leave us alone." Scott warned him. "You got that? And if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gonna tell him everything."
"You're gonna trust them? You think they can help you?" He spat.
Scott scoffed. "Why not? They're a lot freaking nicer than you are!"
Derek just looked at him in amusement. "I can show you exactly how nice they are."
Scott raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
☹☻
Stiles and Harper had decided not to go with Derek and Scott on a late night adventure to Beacons Crossing Home. The brunette had had enough supernatural drama to last her a life time. She really hoped as soon as Derek is done teaching Scott his werewolf abilities and the Alpha is gone, that their lives will all get back to normal and they will never have to see the Sour Wolf again.
"Thanks for the help back there." Stiles spoke sarcastically, filling the comfortable silence that had been surrounding them in his jeep as he drove Harper back home.
Harper raised a dark eyebrow at him. "You weren't the one that he had his claws on the entire time. I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing at one point."
"Yeah, because you kept staring at his abs." Stiles muttered under his breath, rolling his hazel eyes at her.
A small laugh escaped Harper's lips. "I was not staring at his chest!"
Stiles rolled his eyes yet again. "Um, yeah, you kind of were." He grumbled.
She scoffed. "As if Derek is my type anyway."
Stiles' mood lightened a little by this news, his eyes shifting into curiosity as he stole a quick glance in her direction. He hesitated, clearing his throat. "Oh, yeah? Then what is your type?" He asked awkwardly.
"Hmm, well, for starters, I don't like guys that are afraid to show emotion. Kind of ruins everything. And I really like dorky, sarcastic, awkward guys with a really good sense of humour and really pretty eyes."
Stiles was almost sure, and prayed, that she was talking about him.
Stiles began to blush and Harper had to dig her painted nails into the palms of her hands to stop herself from freaking out. "Your, ur, he-"
Harper cut him off. "What's your type then, Sti?"
Stiles' tongue darted out to wet his lips slightly before he began to reply. "Well," he began. "I really like girls with dark eyes that smile loads and are always nice to others. I also really like it when they have a pretty laugh or when they speak about something they're passionate about, their whole face lights up."
A massive part of Harper hoped that he was describing her. Everything he said she did, but she was a little doubtful. Maybe she was just being delusional and way too hopeful.
But when Harper went to bed that night, she couldn't help thinking about her best friend liking her back, putting the biggest grin on her face.
— isaaclovesmexican
alisha
♡☆
I love harper.
fun fact: I literally wrote 30+ pages on her so I would really understand her character & I have her story planned out right into 6a.
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