"You Don't Know Me" || Derek Hale

19.

Stiles pulls the door open and flips the light on. I wrap my arm around Derek and help him inside. He falls back onto a stack of food bags and Stiles' phone buzzes. He reaches into his pocket and looks down at it. "Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Stiles asks.

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring me the bullet," Derek responds.

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm gonna die without it," Derek states.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "What if Scott doesn't get here in time?" I ask.

"I'll have to turn to my last resort," Derek admits.

"Which is?"

~ ~ ~

Stiles pushes the doors open, and I help Derek inside the room. I turn toward him and grab the bottom of his shirt. I help him slide it off, and he walks over to the examine table. I notice he has a tattoo in the middle of his upper back. He holds out his arm, and I inhale sharply. I examine the bloody bullet hole and the black veins running up his arm. "You know, that really doesn't look like anything that echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of," Stiles comments.

"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me," Derek states.

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabular, is it?" Stiles asks as he walks over to the cabinet.

He starts to look through the cabinets and drawers. "If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time, last resort..."

"Which is?" I press before walking over to him.

He slowly looks over at me and holds up the electric saw. "You're going to cut off my arm."

My eyes widen, and tears fill my eyes. "Derek, I-I-I can't do that," I shake my head.

"If you want me to live, you'll have to."

"Derek--"

I blink a couple of times and a couple of tears roll down my cheeks. He reaches forward and wipes the tears away. "I know that if the time comes, you'll be able to do it. You're strong like that."

"Well, I'm happy you have that kind of faith in me, but I'm not so sure I'll be able to," I admit.

"You will."