Still ▸ Teen Wolf [Book Two]

thirty eight ; performance issues

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THIRTY EIGHT;

PERFORMANCE ISSUES

"Xylazine."

Stiles, Scott, Isaac, and Sage all stood around the operation table in the back of the clinic. Well, the three boys stood. Sage was sitting down on the ground with her back to the wall, exhausted already from the minuscule amount of sleep she has gotten in the past few weeks. Nothing could have prepared her for what she has had to go through in just the past three days, the blonde practically dragging her body weight just to keep up with the others. Now, they were all currently seeking Deaton's help on something they couldn't do themselves. Tate was rather adamant on murdering the coyote without even realizing it was his daughter, and they had to make sure that didn't happen. The last thing any of them needed was for there to be a dead girl all because of a mistake Malia made when she was just an impulsive, little girl.

"Xyla—what?" the blonde on the ground asked, her fingers on her temples as she pushed back her hair to look at what the veterinarian was holding. "Is that some sort of drug?"

The man looked at her with a frown. "Not exactly. It's a tranquilizer for horses. For a werecoyote, it's expected to work within seconds."

"Oh," Sage hummed, nodding in agreement considering she wasn't sure else she could say to tranquilizing a coyote that she just found out existed today. She wasn't too sure how she felt about the plan, especially since they were rather limited when it came to other ideas. This, despite how horrific it sounded for Malia, seemed to be the only thing they could come up with that even had the possibility of working with only a few natural flaws.

"Now," Deaton began. "I only have three, so whoever is shooting better be a damn good shot."

Sage could practically feel stares on her face, all of the boys turning to look at her in expectancy. She was surprised, mostly because they stared at her with such reliance, and she knew that she wasn't going to be capable of fulfilling what they were hoping for her to do. She hadn't even picked up a gun since she shot Jennifer and that on its own just bit her in the ass. Shaking her head, Sage went to protest. "Don't look at me. You put me behind a gun and someone is going to lose more than just their consciousness. Can't Allison do it?"

Stiles narrowed his eyes a bit at her response, knowing fairly well that she wasn't the same as she used to be. Sure, she still had that spark inside of her eyes that initiated all of her retorts and, somewhat, downgrading comments, but there wasn't a will to survive in her bright green orbs like before. The only reason she was in this room right now was because it kept her away from sleep and from the hallucinations.

"Allison's a perfect shot," Scott agreed, nodding once to confirm Sage's question.

Isaac, who hadn't bothered to speak until now, winced. "Well, she used to be."

"She can do it," Scott urged, still believing in his ex-girlfriend's ability to shoot almost anything with complete accuracy. He originally would have gone with Sage, only because she was more experienced with a gun while Allison was an expert at the bow.

"If we manage to find the thing."

"What's the point of him?" Stiles huffed out, just as annoyed at the wafting disappointment that Isaac gave off to this whole plan every time his mouth opened. "Seriously, what is his purpose besides the persistent negativity and the scarf? What's up with the scarf, anyway? It's sixty-five degrees out."

Sage snorted from the ground. "Is Lahey really wrong, though? I mean, he's just asking the questions we're all afraid to ask."

Stiles' face contorted into betrayal, somewhat hurt that Sage was choosing to side with Isaac rather than him. It was something that he was going to have to get used to, though, if he was going to continue being around Sage. They were just a clashing pair at this point, no more than two people trying to save a werecoyote all while trying to have a civil friendship. Or, at the very least, a civil something.