Rowan was sleeping soundly for the first time since the bite when there was a howl. She shot up in bed in panic and then groaned when she realized.
The stupid fucking alpha.
She was super tempted to just go back to sleep, but never got to decide. The howl had woken up Scott as well and he stumbled in her room and yelled at her to wake up as he pulled a shirt over his head. Rowan stumbled out of bed with all of the coordination of a baby deer and threw a sweatshirt over her t-shirt and shorts and slipped on some shoes.
Scott and Rowan snuck out the front door as quietly as they could, making sure not to wake their mom and ran. Rowan figured they were doing something right when they both went in the same direction, following their instincts. Those instincts led them to a warehouse and, aggravatingly, the hunters. Couldn't they just let the werewolves deal with the supernatural criminal? They were quick to hide from Argent and the woman he was with.
"This guy again." Rowan complained under her breath. She rolled her eyes and turned to Scott.
"Again?" He asked and she realized that she hadn't told him about what had happened at the gas station.
"I'll tell you later." She whispered back and turned her attention to the hunters.
"Chris, there were two of them." The woman said.
"The alpha?" Argent asked.
"I don't know, but one of them tried to kill me." She said.
"Sounds like the alpha." Rowan told Scott who just shushed her.
"One of them is gonna lead us to the other." Argent said. "He can't do that if he's dead."
"Well, I can't help kill either of them if one of them kills me first."
"How long will it take?"
"I give him 48 hours. If that."
Rowan held her breath. It sounded to her like someone was about to die. It had to have been either Derek or the alpha, unless there was another beta out there. The idea didn't seem too far-fetched, he'd bitten her and Scott pretty much on a whim and with the hunters in town, it wouldn't hurt to have another person on his side. Rowan didn't know, but she had 48 hours to figure it out.
Rowan didn't get the chance to contact Derek before he seemed to seek her out on his own. Unfortunately, it was at the high school where he was wandering the halls like a zombie looking for her and Scott.
Could she not have one normal day?
She already met up with Derek every other day after school to learn Werewolf 101, which was not normal. They worked on controlling her super senses. She was super grateful for it since it had been the toughest of the werewolf abilities for her and since they started the number of sensory overloads she had decreased exponentially. (She did wish they'd actually started working on controlling the shift, though, because she didn't want to have to worry about hurting anyone her next full moon.)
And while Derek had been teaching her didn't mean she wanted to see him at school. She rushed down the hall with the goal of preventing a murder when she saw that he was headed toward Jackson.
"Where are Rowan and Scott McCall?" Derek asked. Rowan hurried her pace to a jog.
"Why should I tell you?"
"Because I asked politely and I only do that once."
Rowan skidded to a stop next to them and said, "Hey guys."
She was ignored. "Hmm. Okay, tough guy. You know, how about I help you find Scott and you tell me what you're selling him." Jackson said. Rowan's brows furrowed as she wondered what the hell he was talking about. "What is it? Dianabol? HGH?"
"Drugs?" Rowan asked.
"Steroids." Derek corrected, scoffing. He leveled Jackson with a flat, if not disbelieving, look. He glanced at Rowan who shrugged in response. She started walking backward, hoping they could slip away quickly. Derek moved to follow but was stopped by Jackson.
"No," he said sarcastically, "Girl scout cookies. What the hell do you think I'm talking about? Oh and, uh, by the way, whatever you're selling? I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked."
Rowan couldn't even argue. Derek, normally tall, dark, and handsome, was pale, sweating, and slightly out of breath. He looked down at the floor and Rowan followed his gaze to see blood dripping off his hand.
"I don't need your help." Derek said and began walking toward Rowan only to be stopped. Again.
Jackson grabbed Derek's shoulder, which was definitely a mistake. Derek turned around and grabbed him by the back of his neck to hold him face first against the lockers. That shut Jackson right up.
Only when he let go did Rowan realize that Derek had used his claws. She figured he must've been thinking the same thing when his panicked eyes met hers. He rushed toward her faster than she was expecting given his physical state and grabbed her arm. She ended up practically dragging him down the hallway as he became more and more exerted. If it weren't for her werewolf strength she wouldn't have been able to hold up 6 feet of muscle and dead weight.
"Stop," Derek breathed out. Rowan paused walking and leaned him against the nearest wall. He tilted his head like a puppy, searching for something with his enhanced hearing. She was momentarily jealous before the reality of the situation kicked in. 48 hours.
"Are you dying?" Rowan asked him. He was saved by the bell announcing the end of the school day. Derek covered his ears and slid down the wall from the pain of the sound. She pulled him up to the best of her ability. "C'mon, tough guy. Let's go find Scott and Stiles."
They headed out to the school parking lot where Rowan guessed they'd be, hopefully waiting for her. Unfortunately, she forgot that Scott was going to Allison's. Worse, Stiles forgot he'd agreed to give her a ride home. The jeep pulled out of its parking space and Rowan ran to stop him, mostly just stumbling under Derek's weight. They stood in front of the jeep causing Stiles to break suddenly and catching the attention of practically the whole parking lot.
Scott ran over from the bike rack and Stiles climbed out of his jeep. "What is he doing here?" Scott asked.
"He's hurt." Rowan said.
"I was shot."
"What?" Rowan yelled. She shifted him as she looked for a bullet hole.
"He's not looking so good, dudes." Stiles said.
"Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked.
"I-I can't. It was a different kind of bullet." Derek said. His breathing was getting heavier and Rowan tried shifting his weight a little, hoping it would help.
"A silver bullet?" Stiles asked a little too eagerly.
"No, you idiot."
"Wait. Wait, that's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours." Scott said. Rowan was impressed that he'd caught on so quickly.
"I was really hoping she was talking about the Alpha." Rowan sighed.
"What?" Derek asked. "Who said 48 hours?"
"The one who shot you." Scott said.
"Yeah. There was a woman with Argent last night, well, technically this morning. We heard the Alpha call and saw them there talking about someone being dead in 48 hours." Rowan explained. Derek looked at her with his eyes turned to a brighter blue than his regular color, kind of an electric blue, and her own flashed gold in response.
"What are you doing? Stop that!" Scott yelled.
"I'm trying to tell you, I can't." Derek said. Behind the jeep drivers were getting impatient and started honking at them.
"I'm going to put him in your car." Rowan told Stiles. She hauled Derek to the front seat with some help from Scott and she climbed over the driver's side to her usual seat in the back. She scooted toward the driver's window where Stiles was standing, trying to argue with her.
"I hate you guys so much for this." Stiles said.
"Whine to me about it later. We need to go." Rowan demanded.
Stiles glanced nervously between the road, the rearview mirror, and the dying wolf in his front seat. He had his phone pressed to his ear, desperately trying to reach Scott.
"He's not answering." He said when it went to voicemail. "I'm going to text him."
Rowan leaned forward and reached for his phone protesting, "Dude! No texting and driving. Give it to me, I'll do it."
Stiles tried to keep it out of reach, swerving the jeep slightly in the process. "Stop! I'm perfectly capable-"
Rowan manhandled the phone out of his hand. He glanced at her satisfied smirk in the rearview mirror and scowled. "That right there was more dangerous than texting and driving." He said. Rowan waved him off as she pressed send. When it dinged in response she huffed and turned the phone around to show Derek the text.
"He needs more time." She said.
"Come on." Stiles said. He adjusted in his seat and glanced at Derek again. "Try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there."
"Almost where?" Derek asked. He didn't even have the energy to hold up his head, instead it was dangling forward against his chest. Rowan looked at Stiles expectantly, not realizing that they'd had a destination this whole time.
"Your house," Stiles said as if it was obvious.
Derek's head snapped up. "What? No. You can't take me there."
Stiles spazzed. "I can't take you to your own house?"
"Not when I can't protect yourself."
"Can't Rowan do it?" Stiles asked. "She's a werewolf now, she can protect you."
"The hunters know where he lives and they obviously know he's injured," Rowan gestured toward Derek. "They have guns and what amounts to military training, I have claws and don't know how to fight. Who do you see winning?"
Stiles threw a mini fit and pulled the jeep to the side of the road. He turned bodily toward Derek. "What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?" He yelled.
"Not yet. I have a last resort." Derek said between heavy breaths. Rowan looked at him curiously, wondering what he planned on doing about the 48 hour timer put on his head.
"What do you mean? What's your last resort?" Stiles asked. Derek pulled up his sleeve to show the bullet lodged in his arm. There were black streaks coming out of the wound and up his arm. Rowan made a face that she hoped conveyed how gross she thought it was. "Oh my god. What is that? Is that contagious? You know what? You should probably just get out."
Derek ignored him. "Start the car. Now."
"I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look. Okay? In fact, 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."
"We're not going to do that, though." Rowan challenged. "We need to move."
"No. Not until he gets out."
"Start the car. Or I'm going to rip your throat out. With my teeth." Derek said.
Stiles started the car.
Derek didn't find it as funny as she did that Scott wanted them to meet him at the animal clinic. The irony of taking a dying werewolf to the vet was just lost on him.
When they arrived, Rowan went around the back of the clinic and grabbed the spare key from under the mat in front of the back door, right where Scott said it would be. She held it up proudly to Stiles and Derek, the latter practically crushing the former under his weight. They unlocked the door and stumbled inside. When they got to the back room, Derek leaned himself against the examination table and removed his shirt. Rowan's eyes immediately caught the tattoo on his back and slid appreciatively down his biceps until they found the bullet wound on his forearm. Somehow it looked worse than before.
"Okay," Stiles said. "You know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." Rowan shoved him.
"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me." Derek said breathily, lacking all his usual anger. Anyone could tell he was struggling with the pain. He went clumsily toward the nearest cabinet and rummaged through it.
"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles asked.
"If he doesn't get here in time. Last resort..." Derek muttered. He moved on to the drawers.
"Which is?" Stiles asked expectantly.
Derek turned around, holding up a saw and said to Stiles, "You're going to cut off my arm."
"Uh, uh. Nope. Rowan, you do it." Stiles grabbed Rowan's arm and tried to push her in front of him but she utilized her new strength to take a step back instead.
"No way!" Rowan yelled. "What happened to 48 hours?"
Derek shook his head. "We don't have much time, Rowan. I can feel it traveling through my body. Okay? Either he gets here five minutes ago or we cut off my arm. I'm not going to let the Argent's have the satisfaction of killing me." Derek pushed the saw across the table. Stiles picked it up from the spot in front of him and turned it on.
"Oh my god." He gagged and turned the saw back off. "What if you bleed to death?"
"I'll heal if it works."
"And what if it doesn't?" Rowan asked. She grabbed the elastic band he was struggling to tie around his bicep and did the knot herself.
Derek avoided her eyes and said lowly enough only werewolf hearing could catch, "Thank you."
"Look, I don't know if I can do this," Stiles complained and, honestly, Rowan couldn't blame him.
"Why not?" Derek asked.
"Well, because the cutting through flesh, the sawing of the bone, especially the blood." Stiles exclaimed.
"You faint at the sight of blood?" Derek asked angrily. His eyes flashed the electric blue again.
"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!"
Rowan gagged at the thought and turned away so she couldn't see either the saw or Derek.
"Alright fine," Derek sighed. "How about this? Either you cut off my arm or I'm going to cut off your head."
Rowan turned back around. "Just do it, Stiles!"
"No, you know what? I'm not buying your threats–" Derek cut him off by grabbing the front of his shirt and holding him up. "Oh my god! Bought, sold. Totally, I'll do it. I'll do it."
Derek pitched forward and expelled a load of black blood in front of Rowan. She yelped and covered her mouth to keep her stomach contents where they belonged.
"What the hell is that?" Stiles whined.
"It's my body trying to heal itself."
"Well, it's not doing a very good job, is it?"
"Now." Derek said. "You gotta do it now."
Stiles reluctantly picked up the saw and put the blade to Derek's arm. Stiles and Rowan exchanged a glance. Rowan looked back at Derek. If they were going to do this at all, it would have to be now. Stiles took a deep breath and moved his finger to the button he had accidentally switched earlier.
"Stiles? Rowan?" They let out a sigh of relief.
"I've never been more happy to see you, Scott." Stiles said, dropping the saw.
"What the hell are you doing?" Scott yelled at Stiles.
"You have no idea. You just prevented a lifetime of nightmares." Stiles said.
"Did you get it?" Derek asked. Scott fumbled around in his pocket to grab the bullet. Derek took it from him, but before he could use it he passed out. Rowan rushed forward to break his fall. His weight pulled her to the ground in a kneeling position and she laid his head gently on the ground as Scott rushed toward the grate where the bullet was rolling. He was too late.
Stiles kneeled down next to Rowan and patted Derek's face. Harder when he didn't respond.
"C'mon, Derek. You need to wake up. Wake up." Rowan muttered, shaking his arm. She felt helpless. They didn't have the bullet and even if they did, they didn't know how to use it to save Derek. And then, without Derek, they had no way to stop the Alpha. Everything was going wrong.
"I think he's dying." Stiles voiced her fears. "I think he's dead."
"Don't say that. He's not dead, we just have to wake him up." Rowan said.
"Please don't kill me for this." Stiles said to himself. He drew his arm back and punched Derek awake, no doubt hurting his hand in the process. It did the trick, though. Derek startled awake and took the bullet from Scott, who had managed to get it back.
"Give me that." Derek said. Rowan grabbed one arm and Scott took his other and helped him up. Derek pried open the bullet and dumped the wolfsbane contents out on the metal table. He used a lighter he pulled out of his pocket to set it on fire. The light wasn't even out when Derek snatched it from the table and pushed it into his bullet wound.
Rowan rushed forward as he fell to the floor screaming in pain, but the effects of the ash on his wound were almost instantaneous. The black veins receded and in seconds there wasn't even a trace that he'd ever been shot.
There were a few seconds of silence broken by Stiles cheering, "That. Was. Awesome! Yes!."
The werewolves in the room disagreed.
"Are you okay?" Scott asked, stupidly.
"Except for the agonizing pain." Derek said sarcastically.
"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a sign of good health." Stiles said.
"Oh, please. As if you won't be using sarcasm on your deathbed." Rowan scoffed.
"That's not the point."
"No," Scott interrupted and turned on Derek. "The point is, we just saved your life, which means that you're gonna leave us alone. You got that? And if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad and I'm gonna tell him everything."
Rowan stepped between Scott and Derek. "You can't do that! He's a hunter, Scott, he will kill us. Do you not understand that?"
"No he won't. They're good people." Scott crossed his arms.
"You're going to trust them?" Derek asked calmly. "You think they can help you?"
"Why not? They're a lot nicer than you are." Scott said.
"Yeah, they're so nice. Racist. But that doesn't matter at all if they're nice." Rowan said sarcastically. "Definitely wouldn't smash in car windows for no reason other than who you are, right?"
"What the hell are you talking about, Rowan? You don't make any sense!"
"I can show you exactly how nice they are." Derek said, coldly.
Scott visibly calmed. "What do you mean?"
Derek refused to answer any questions on the way there and it was frustrating. He wouldn't even nod when she asked about his new driver's side window. She didn't know where they were going, but she wished they would get there sooner.
They finally pulled into the Beacon Hills long term care facility and she knew that whatever point he was trying to make to Scott about the hunters couldn't be good.
Derek parked the car and led them to a room, never once needing directions or saying anything to either of them.
Scott looked between the man in the wheelchair in front of them and Derek, who never once took his eyes off of the man. "Who is he?" Scott asked.
"My uncle, Peter Hale." Derek answered. Rowan muffled a gasp behind her hand. She'd thought his entire family had passed in the house fire. Though, in this state it wasn't like the man was really alive. He never moved, never flinched. If he knew there were people in his room, he didn't show it. He was completely catatonic.
"Is he like you?" Scott asked. "A werewolf."
Rowan nudged him. "Like us, Scott."
"He was. Now he's barely even human. Almost four years ago our house caught fire. My sister and I were out, but eleven other people were trapped inside. He was the only survivor."
Rowan set her hand on his arm in what she hoped was a comforting way and said, "I'm so sorry, Derek. No one deserves that."
"So, what makes you so sure they set the fire?" Scott asked.
"Because they're the only ones that knew about us."
"Then they had a reason."
Rowan couldn't contain herself. "What the hell, Scott! What reason could someone have to murder an entire family? You're literally psychotic."
"You tell me what could justify this." Derek said. He reached out and turned Peter around, revealing the other half of his face that was covered in burn scars. Rowan averted her eyes and stared at the ground instead. "They say they'll only kill an adult and only with absolute proof. But there were people in my family who were perfectly ordinary in that fire. This is what they do and it's what Allison will do."
Rowan's thoughts immediately went to her mother. If something were to happen to her, she wouldn't know what to do. She'd never forgive herself. More importantly, she'd never forgive Scott if it was because of his stupid crush. No, she'd make sure that never happened.
The three of them were soon rushed out of the room by a nurse. Derek led Scott and Rowan back to his car and drove them home. Scott went inside, but Rowan stayed behind. Rowan turned her whole body in the passenger seat to face Derek.
"You're certain that it was the Argents." Rowan said seriously.
Derek nodded just as seriously, confirming her fears. "I'm positive."
"Do you think Scott will tell them about us?"
"Not if I have any say in it he won't." Derek answered quickly. Rowan nodded.
"Okay, hypothetically, if we aren't able to stop him from revealing us, what do we do to keep them from hurting our mom?"
Derek considered her question. "My first answer? Run." Rowan shook her head and was going to deny that as an option, but he interrupted her. "However, knowing how stubborn you two are, the only way to keep them from hurting her is to make sure that you know how to protect her from them if anything happens."
Rowan looked in his eyes and pleaded. "Will you help me?"