He's not Heartless (Theo Raeken)

"That's disgusting"

Max was seated in the back of Roscoe, claiming all of that room for herself. Other than her, it was only Stiles in the exhausted jeep, driving through the parking lot of their high school. When she looked out of the window, she saw Theo getting into a car with his sister, clueless to her eyes that had caught sight of him. Her distance staring was interrupted as the jeep came to a sudden jolt, Stiles having unexpected pulled the breaks.

"What the hell Stilinski!" She exclaimed, glad that she was wearing her seatbelt. He didn't respond, instead he exited the jeep, going in front of it as Scott joined him and another man. Max watched the muted scene, intrigued by who the stranger is. He looked pale, almost vampiric, and seemingly distracted. Sweat covered his face, more than what would exit pores by playing lacrosse. 

Irritated by the blockage Stiles had caused by abandoning his heap with wheels, the other awaiting drivers blasted their horns, and Maxine assumed Tara was one of them. The bleating chorus however seemed to affect the man wrapped in leather, as if it was promoting pain.

"Shut up." Stiles tells her after him and Scott have assisted them man into the passenger seat, knowing she was planning on speaking.

"I haven't even said anything." She defends herself, as Stiles pulls out of the school grounds, converting onto the public roads. The last glimpse Max got in the parking lot was her brother in contact with Allison, making the corner of her lips slightly turn up. "Who's this?"

That question was obviously going to appear, and Stiles huffed at the thought of answering it. The younger McCall was getting what she wanted.

"Maxine, Derek. Derek, Maxine." His hand waved to where each of them was seated, as if he was drawing an imaginary line between the two.

"I thought he'd be ugly." Her assumption made Derek grunt in response, his deadly appearance not having affected her opinion. Max's nose scrunched up as she caught a whiff of death itself, and she assumed rightly that it was radiating from the lonesome wolf.

"That's disgusting." Stiles spoke to himself, before focusing his words on the backseat passenger. "You have a boyfriend missy." His scolding earnt a shrug, which made the driver exasperated at the girl's bluntness. "If Scott heard you say that he'd dig your grave." This earnt a snarl from Derek, seeing as the two boys had previously dug up his sister. He winced once he had realised his bad choice of words.

"I know." She leant forward, between the two in the front. Derek gave her a sideways glance, trying not to be amused with her back chat at Stiles. "So, do you like hate cats?"

Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, Stiles was growing impatient. Not only did he have to babysit Derek, but Max wasn't helping. Now he had two people threatening to rip his throat out. 

"What happens if Scott doesn't find your magic bullet? Are you dying?" Maxine wasn't sure what answer Stiles was hoping for. They were all depending on Scott somehow, but now Derek's life was in his hands.

"Not yet. I have a last resort." Without sparing Max, he revealed the bullet wound that was oozing black gunk. She inwardly heaved.

"Why is your blood black?" Max asked when she had regained her lunch in her stomach. It looked like ink running out of his veins, and it made her think that werewolves could have a different coloured blood.

"Because it's not healing." He answered, thinking that his last resort may be necessary to fix the issue at arm.

"Clearly." Stiles spoke, only to get threatened by the supernatural creature again.

"Your're going to cut off my arm." Derek demanded of Stiles, making Max realise that this was his last resort.  He removes his shirt, causing the girl to look away. She hadn't seen Theo shirtless yet, she didn't intend on seeing another guy like that either. 

"That's disgusting." She said at the thought of a limb being amputated.

"What if you bleed to death?" Derek wasn't all that phased by the question, continuing to create a tornique above the decaying wound.

"It'll heal if it works." Although his voice didn't indicate any optimism, his words did. Maxine decided to point the chances out.

"Exactly, if." Max had only just met Derek, but she'd be upset if he died. He was the only person they knew of who could help Scott. They needed him, even if her brother didn't agree with that.

"Look I don't know if I can do this." Stiles didn't want to do it.

"Why not?"

"Because he's a whimp." The sheriff's son sent her a glare, before explaining himself. He was sure she wouldn't want to be put in this position either.

"Well, because the cutting through flesh, the sawing through the bone, and especially the blood."

"You faint at the sight of blood?"

"No. But I might at the sight of a chopped off arm." He had a fair point.

"All right. Fine. How about this? Either you cut off my arm or I'll cut off your head." After, Derek began vomiting up his own blood, marking the examining table with it.

"I'll do it." Shutting her eyes at her own stupidity, she took the saw away from Stiles, holding it to Derek's flesh. She now felt the same repulse of the idea that Stiles had. She wanted to make it quick and painless. Sucking in a breath, she prepared to begin the operation, but then her brother walked through the doorway, bullet in hand. "Thank god!" Max dropped the saw, leaning against the wall in relief. She'd never been so happy to not have to cut someone's arm off.

All relief is gone when a body fell to the ground. It was Derek. Scott scurried around him, trying to grapple the fallen bullet. Max pressed her hand to Derek's forehead, quickly retracting it as he regains consciousness. He took the bullet, emptying its contents into his wound, ultimately healing himself.

"I told you to stay away from him." Is what Scott muttered to his sister as he leaves his closed workspace.