Second Chances - Stiles Stilinski (Season 1)

Chapter 12: No Wonder Blockbuster is out of Business

Stiles

Natalie clears the metal table in the back room of the vet clinic as Derek hoists himself onto it. Scott's part time job has never come more in handy.

"What kind of bullet?" Scott says to me on the other side of the phone.

"I don't know Scott, Derek just says you have to find it!" I hiss at him as Derek pulls of his shirt. His veins flowing from the wound on his arm are a very ominous black color. They seem to be stretching up to his heart.

"How am I supposed to find one bullet? They have a million," I hear Scott on the line cry out. "This place is like the freaking Walmart of guns." Natalie pushes Derek down gently as he tries to grab the phone from my hand.

"You know," I motion to his arm, "That doesn't really look like anything some Echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't fix." Derek flashes me a look of anger.

"If the infection reaches my heart, it will kill me. If he doesn't get the bullet here in time, we'll have to do plan b."

"Plan B?" Natalie questions, her eyes flitting towards me. Derek points with his good arm to the saw on the counter.

"You're going to cut off my arm." I gulp nervously.

An hour goes by of the same routine. Natalie wiping a cool rag over Derek's forehead while anxiously watching the black veins creep up his arm. As for myself, I am texting Scott every other minute asking for some sort of update. I walk over and grab Natalie's hand, guiding her to the other room.

"We aren't actually going to have to cut off an arm are we?" I stress, rubbing my hand against the back of my head. Natalie glances back nervously to the room with a dying Derek.

"I don't know, Stiles. I think a one-armed Derek is probably better than a dead Derek." I look at her in awe. She can't actually be considering this. She looks back at me, taken aback from my shocked look. "Oh, more like you'll be doing the sawing though," she says, raising her arms in defense.

"Absolutely not! You're only alright with it when it is me sawing off an arm?" I wave my arms around to further push my point. She looks back, tapping her chin.

"Let's flip on it," she considers, pulling a quarter out of her pocket.

"You're kidding." She shrugs and looks up at me.

"Someone's got to do it. Heads or tails?" I let out an breath and lean against the wall, defeated.

"Tails, you psycho," I mutter. She flips the coin and slaps it onto her other hand.

"It's heads! You're up to bat Stilinski," she says pushing me into the room. Derek is up off the table and holding the saw up to his arm.

"You guys aren't very good at whispering," he complains, offering me the saw. I check my phone one more time. No text from Scott.

"There's no way I can do this without you paying for therapy after this," I say, but still take the saw. Natalie pushes herself to the corner of the room, covering her eyes. The weight of the hand saw is heavy in my hands, and I can feel my pulse in my throat. "We're really doing this?"

Derek nods, looking to the side as he holds his arm out. He grips the side of the table, and I can see the white of knuckles between the black, spidery, infected veins. "Okay! We are really doing this."

"Wait! Wait I have it!" Scott screams, as he bursts into the room. Collectively, we all let out the breath we were holding. I throw the hand saw to the table on the other side of the room. I would be totally fine never seeing another saw again.