Aspen Juniper Veata has only ever known Beacon Hills to be a quiet and dainty town. Herself, along with her best friends Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, had gone unnoticed by their peers in high school for as long as they could remember. Aspen ha...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I can't believe while Scott is at Allison's house ready to get some, I am on puppy patrol!"
Aspen rolled her eyes from Stiles' comment as she leaned forward, resting her elbow against the driver's seat.
"He's studying, and if Derek said the one who shot him is an Argent, the bullet's got to be there," Aspen explained, reiterating Dereka words.
"We both know it's gonna be a while before he even attempts to find it."
"Will you just trust him? Everything will be fine."
Aspen watched as Stiles's hand searched for his phone to ask Scott to find the bullet. Aspen narrowed her eyes and snatched the phone from his grasp.
"Eyes on the road. And don't rush him, he probably just got there." Aspen spat. The phone's vibration directed her focus to the message Scott sent. "see, he just said he needs more time."
As Derek struggled to take off his leather jacket, Stiles jerked in his seat as she stared at him with disgust.
"Hey, can you try not bleeding out on my seat, dude?" Stiles whined, "we're almost there."
"Almost where?" Derek breathed, slumping in the chair.
"Your house."
"What? No. No, not there."
"I can't take you to your own house?"
"I can't protect myself."
"yea alright." Stiles took a quick turn and parked alongside the road.
"Here we go," Aspen sighed, leaning back in her seat to watch the madness unfold.
The car skidding to a halt, Stiles roughly parked and turned his body toward a clearly annoyed Derek.
"So what happened if we don't find your magic bullet, hm? Are you dying?" Stiles questioned, not an ounce of concern, lacing his voice.
"It's not a magic bullet Stiles," Aspen said.
"Shush June. Adults are talking."
"You are hardly an adult."
"Not yet," Derek huffed, ensuring Stiles question from before, "I have a last resort."
"What last-Oh! Oh. My. God. What-what is that?"
Derek had pulled up his sleeve to reveal a bullet hole in his forearm. While Stiles jerked away on the verge of vomiting, Aspen leaned closer, eyes curious as she grabbed his arm to get a better view.
"Yes, Aspen touches the werewolf's bloody arm," Stiles hacked sarcastically, "Ew, ew. Is it contagious? You know, forget it. Just get out of my car."