"Stiles!" Scott's voice comes just in time. I collapse into the chair in the corner, my legs finally giving out.
"Scott?" Stiles asks hopefully. Scott appears in the doorway. He looks around and spots Stiles and the saw against Derek's arm.
"What the hell are you doing?" Scott screams.
"Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares," Stiles drops the saw on the table, laughing in relief.
"Did you get it?" Derek asks. Scott fumbles in his pocket and hands a huge bullet to him. Derek studies it.
"What are you doing to do with it?" Stiles asks.
"I'm gonna ... I'm gonna ..." Derek's eyes roll into the back of his head and his hand hits the table. The bullet rolls off the table and under a cabinet. I hear it fall into the drain. Derek hits the floor next.
"No, no, no, no, no, no," Scott repeats, slamming his body into the floor. He slides his hand under the cabinet and his fingers into the drain. He grumbles, stretching for it.
"Derek?" I ask, sliding to my knees on the floor next to him.
"Derek, come on. Wake up," Stiles commands, slapping his face lightly.
"Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?" Stiles panics.
"I don't know!" Scott shouts back.
"We gotta do something," my eyes dart around the room rapidly. "We gotta do something."
"What are we gonna do, Emerson?" Stiles' eyes grow wide and he shakes his head at me.
"I can't reach it," Scott informs us.
"He's not waking up," Stiles tells him. "I think he's dying."
"He's not dying," I insist. I stare down at Derek, but I'm not so sure. He looks like he's dying.
"I think he's dead!" Stiles adds.
"He's not dead!" I tell Stiles. "Take his pulse or check for breathing or something!"
"If your 'something's could be a little more specific -" Stiles starts with his sarcasm.
"He's not dead!" I cry.
"Emerson," Stiles says slowly, shaking his head.
"Listen to me, Stilinski," I say fiercely. "He. Is. Not. Dead. Do you understand me? Scott's gonna get that bullet and we're gonna cure Derek. We're all gonna be just fine."
Stiles looks at me doubtfully.
"I'm psychic!" I shriek, trying to convince the both of us. I wish I could have a vision. Just one of Derek being healed to let me know that we're going to succeed. Of course, nothing comes.
"Oh! I got it!" Scott shouts proudly.
"Told you!" I scream at Stiles.
"Please don't kill me for this," Stiles talks to Derek, bringing his hand back and punching him as hard as he could in the face. "Ugh! Ow! God!"
Stiles shakes his fist out in pain. Derek opens his eyes, though, shifting slightly.
"Give me," Derek takes the bullet from Scott and I wonder whether he heard what I just said or not. My cheeks burn with embarrassment suddenly. The three of us wrestle him to his feet and he bites the end of the bullet off, dumping out the contents. He holds a lighter to the powder and it makes a huge, sparkling flame. The three boys jump back. Blue smoke rises off of it and Derek scoops up the burned powder. With one, swift motion he pushes the handful into his bullet wound. He groans, rubbing it in viciously. More blue smoke rises.
He screams, falling to the floor and writhing in pain. His screams become wolf snarls, but for as much pain as he seems to be in, the red and black veins are slowly fading. The wound disappears all together after a moment.
"That was ... awesome!" Stiles pumps his fist excitedly. "Yes!"
"Are you okay?" Scott asks, looking not nearly as elated as Stiles.
"Well except for the agonizing pain," Derek quips.
"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health," Stiles points out.
"Okay, we saved your life," Scott tells him. "Which means you're gonna leave us alone. You got that? And if you don't, I - I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad and I - I'm gonna tell him everything that -"
"You're gonna trust them?" Derek interrupts. "You - You think they can help you?"
"Well ... why not?" Scott cries. "They're a lot frickin' nicer than you are."
"Yeah, I can show you exactly how nice they are," Derek scoffs. He looks over at me. "But she's not coming."
"I'm coming," I cross my arms, stepping forward. I don't know where we're going, but I'm coming.
"No, you're not," Derek states firmly.
"Yes, I am," I argue.
"Dude," Stiles holds out his arms. "Why can't Emerson come?"
"For the same reason you can't," Derek stares at him pointedly.
"Fine," Stiles gives in, throwing his hands up. "I won't come. I've seen enough for one day. For one exciting and terrifying day."
"If I go, Em comes," Scott says.
"Fine," Derek stares at me coldly. "But I don't say I didn't warn you and I don't want to hear you complain."
"I won't complain," I promise.
YOU ARE READING
Transformed (Incomplete)
Fanfiction"Don't be afraid of change. You might lose something good, but you'll gain something better." Emerson McCall is a pretty average high school student. She has one friend she shares with her brother, Scott, and between the two of them, she has all she...
