Love's Spiral

“Stiles, tell Scott that if he doesn’t get here with that damn bullet within a half hour, I will personally hide wolfsbane in his room somewhere where he won’t find it.” Spencer threatened staring at Stiles.

Stiles nodded and sent the text to Scott.

Spencer took it upon herself to get out of the storage area of the clinic and go inside. The boys quickly followed her as they found themselves in a sort of operating room with a metal slab in the middle. Derek took his shirt off and leaned against the table. Stiles went opposite him while Spencer stood next to the arm that was hurt, her notebook in front of her.

“You know, there’s gotta be some sorta WebMD crap for werewolves where I can just take a picture of your arm and it’ll tell me what I should do.” Spencer complained.

“Well, to me,” Stiles started, “that really doesn’t look like anything some Echinacea and a good night sleep couldn’t take care of.”

Spencer glowered at Stiles. He took it as his time to not be a smart ass.

“When the infection reaches my heart, it’ll kill me.” Derek said. He was still having a hard time breathing, struggling more than ever to get his words out. Derek walked to the cabinets and started rifling through them.

“‘Positivity’ just isn’t in your vocabulary, is it?”

“If he doesn’t get here with the bullet in time… Last resort.” Derek struggled, ignoring Stiles.

Spencer walked up beside Derek, careful not to touch him. She needed to think straight and she couldn’t if she was in just as much pain as he was. “Derek, what do you need me to do? What can I do?” she pleaded.

Derek ignored her and opened up a drawer.

“What’s your plan?” Stiles asked.

Derek pulled a metal tool out of the drawer that looked like a saw. He turned to Stiles. “You’re gonna cut off my arm.

Stiles looked at him, taken aback, like Derek had just asked him to kill him.

“I’m sorry. What?” Spencer shouted.

Derek turned to Spencer.

“Stiles will not be cutting off your arm. Scott’s gonna get the bullet.”

“And if he doesn’t get it in time, the infection will get into my heart, spread through my entire bloodstream and I drop dead, right here!” Derek screamed at her.

Spencer cowered away.

“Is that what you want?!”

Spencer shook her head and took a deep breath to calm herself down. Spencer turned away from Derek rifled through the drawer in front of her. “Y - You’re gonna need some sort of...uh, tourniquet.” She said, pulling out some sort of blue, stretchy string-like thing.

Derek could tell that she really wasn’t happy with this, but she was gonna help him anyway. He hated putting her in this position. Why had he gone up to her that day at lacrosse practice? Derek knew it was just gonna lead to trouble and conflicting emotions. He had felt bad for yelling at her, but it was the only way to get her to think about the situation logically. Derek moved to the table and put the saw on it, sliding it to Stiles. Stiles picked it up and turned it on. It scared him so he gasped and put it back down. Derek held up his arm for Spencer to tie the string around Derek’s upper arm tightly.

“What if you bleed to death?” Stiles asked.

“Well, that’s what the tourniquet is for.” Spencer informed, shakily. “To slow the bleeding. And given that he’s a werewolf, and he heals rather quickly, we’re kinda just relying on that right now.”

“Ugh.” Stiles groaned. “Look, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?” Derek asked.

“Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood.”

Derek dropped his hand on the table. “You faint at the sight of blood?”

“No, but I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm.”

Derek sighed. “Alright. Fine.” He quipped. “How about this? Either you cut off my arm or I’m gonna cut off your head.”

Stiles backed away from the table. “Okay, you know what? I am so not buying your threats any - ” Stiles meant to continue his sentence, but Derek grabbed him by his shirt with his good arm and pulled him across the table so that Stiles was in his face. “Oh, my God.”

Spencer gasped. “Derek, stop!”

Derek and Stiles both turned to the girl.

“I’ll do it.” She said.

Derek gave her a questioning look.

Spencer shook her head. “Let him go.” She ordered.

Derek didn’t let go, but he started breathing heavily and looked away from both of them. He was almost heaving. Derek turned over the table and vomited up some sort of black liquid.

“Uh, what the hell is that?” Spencer asked.

Derek continued to lay over the table with his arm laid against it. “It’s my body trying to heal itself.”

Stiles almost gagged himself. “Well, it’s not doing a very good job of it.”

“Now.” Derek said. “Whoever is gonna do it, you gotta do it now.” He begged.

Stiles and Spencer both looked back to the saw then to each other.

“Look, honestly, I don’t think I can.” Stiles admitted.

Spencer nodded and reached for the saw first, picking it up in her hand. She moved around the table to get a better angle. She tested out the saw, making sure she could figure it out. “Alright, you read?” Spencer questioned, rhetorically.

“Oh, God, I can’t watch this.” Stiles said, turning away from the scene.

Spencer placed the saw against Derek’s arm and took a few deep breaths. Her world slowed as she prepared herself to saw off another person’s arm, something that she never thought she’d be doing, given the fact that surgeon wasn’t on her list of dream careers.

“Stiles!” she heard being called, faintly, but paid no attention, her focus on Derek’s arm. “Spencer!” The same voice called. She was about to push the button when she felt hands grasp her shoulders and pull her backwards. Her breathing got faster as she took in her surroundings, seeing Scott now standing in the walkway and Stiles behind her, holding her back.

“Holy - !” she shouted before dropping the saw to the ground. “I can’t believe I almost did that.”

“Did you get it?” Derek asked Scott.

Scott reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the bullet and handed it to Derek. He stood up straight, holding it out in front of him. The three teens stared at him, waiting for him to tell them what to do.

“What are you gonna do with it?” Stiles asked.

Derek’s eyelids strained to stay open. “I’m gonna…” he started to wobble on his feet like he was becoming dizzy. “I’m gonna…” he said, softer this time. Before the tree had time to react, the bullet was leaving Derek’s fingers and he was falling to the floor.

“No, no!” Scott called chasing after the bullet.

Spencer ran around the table to check on Derek. “Derek!” she called, worry written clear in her voice. She kneeled down beside him, and reached for him, but drew back when she felt the pain come back into her arm. “No, Derek. Wake up!” She said, leaning over him. “Stiles, do something!” she screamed at her friend. Stiles joined her on the floor, shaking him.

“Derek.” Stiles grabbed Derek’s face in his hands and shook him around, slapping his cheek lightly to get him up. “Derek, come on, wake up.”

“It’s not working!”

Stiles groaned, not really knowing what to do himself. “Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?” he called. Scott was reaching under a cabinet. The bullet had falled down into a vent.

“I don’t know!” he yelled back. “I can’t reach it.”

“He’s not waking up!” Stiles panicked. Stiles continued to move Derek’s head, trying to jostle him awake. “I think he’s dying.” He finally admitted. “I think he’s dead.”

“Derek…” Spencer whined before turning all of her attention to Stiles. “He can’t be dead, Stiles. Then damn bullet is here! That’s all he needs!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we can’t get to it!” Stiles snapped.

“You’re just giving up because you never liked him in the first place! Now he’s out of the way!”

“Just hold on!” Scott shouted to stop the arguing. He focused on the bullet and on getting to it.

Spencer could feel Scott start to change, but it wasn’t as strong as a full shift.

“I got it!” he shouted, getting off of the floor.

“How am I supposed to wake up a passed out werewolf?” Stiles asked.

Spencer shrugged and stood up, not really wanting to talk to him after he snapped at her.

Stiles groaned. “Please don’t kill me for this.” He said to Derek’s sleeping form. Stiles drew back his fist and brought it down on hard on Derek’s face. Stiles grumbled at the contact, obviously not enjoying the feeling.

Derek shook awake, reaching for the bullet. “Give me…” He called to Scott.

Scott handed over the bullet, then he and Stiles helped Derek to his feet. Spencer stood back, then moved around the tabled. Stiles was still complaining about his hurt fist. Derek bit the top off of the bullet and spit it out onto the table. He emptied out the powdered contents and lit it up with his lighter, making it look like a sparkler and omit a purple smoke. Derek scooped it all into his hand and prepared himself to put it on his arm. He took a deep breath and slammed his hand down onto his arm, pushing the powder into the bullet hole. Derek screamed out in agony. He expected there to be pain, but he didn’t expect Spencer to grab her arm and scream, too.

“Spencer?” Stiles called, moving to her side. She cried out louder, pushing herself back against the wall.

Derek, distracted by his own pain, fell into a writhing mess on the floor.

Stiles grabbed onto Spencer, still unsure of what to do, but felt he needed to comfort her. He did as he had that morning. He just held her tight and tried to talk her out of the pain.

Soon, the wound on Derek’s arm began to heal.

Spencer’s screams faded, but the fallen tears remained on her face.

Stiles breathed, still holding Spencer. “That’ was awesome.”

Spencer sniffled, pushing herself off of the wall. “Maybe from your point of view.” She grumbled.

Derek pushed himself off of the floor.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked.

“Well, except for the agonizing pain.” Derek responded, looking to Spencer, who wouldn’t look in his direction.

“I’m guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a sign of good health.” Stiles said, keeping his arm wrapped around Spencer’s shoulders.

“I wasn’t asking you.” Scott reassured to Derek. Scott turned his head to Spencer. “Pence, what was that?”

Spencer shook her head. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

Scott narrowed his eyes and turned to Derek. “Okay, we saved your life,” he said, “Now you’re gonna leave us alone, you got that?” Scott looked to Spencer quickly. “All of us.”

“Scott…” Spencer tried to defend.

“No.” Scott insisted. “After what I just saw, I’m not sure I like you anywhere near her. Her being in pain in the same spot you were is too much of a coincidence. You’re leaving Spencer out of this. And if you don’t, I’m gonna go back to Allison’s dad. I’ll tell them everything.”

“You’re gonna trust them?” Derek asked. “You think they can help you?”

“Well, why not? They’re a lot freaking nicer than you are.”

“I can show you exactly how nice they are.” Derek stated.

Scott furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

Derek walked to the door they came through and looked back at the three teenagers. “Let’s go.”

Spencer shook her head. “I’m going home. Too much has happened today.” She said, defiantly. “Stiles, take me home.” She looked up at the boy and he nodded his head, sliding his arm off of her body. She walked out of the clinic, snaking her way around Derek, so she wouldn’t touch him as he stood in front of the doorway.

Derek stared after her almost in a longing way, wishing that she would come with him. There was a lot more to the puzzle that she didn’t know. She needed to protect herself and know the things he did so that she wouldn’t actually get hurt. Only, this time, Derek let her go. She had been through enough tonight.

Stiles quickly followed after her a moment later. When he got outside, she was already sitting in the passenger seat, waiting for him. He sighed, climbing into his JEep and taking off towards his house. The ride was silent with Spencer staring out the windshield, holding onto her arm, just under her elbow. Stiles stole glances at her, reassuring himself that she was okay, or at least alive, since she was far from okay.

They arrived to the house and emptied themselves from the Jeep. They noticed the police cruiser wasn’t in the driveway, so the sheriff wasn’t home yet. Stiles followed her up the stairs and to her bedroom door. Stiles grabbed her arm before she could enter it and shut herself away from the world.

“Hey.” Stiles said.

Spencer looked from his hand on her arm up to him.

Stiles removed his hand. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I guess I’m just tired. I need some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” Spencer stepped into her room and closed the door, leaving Stiles out in the hall with a wrong answer. He sighed and continued onto his room.

Spencer went to her window as soon as she entered the room and closed it shut. She didn’t bother changing clothes before she threw herself down on her bed. She grabbed a blanket and folded it up so she could cuddle herself around it. Ever since she had learned about the werewolf situation around Beacon Hills, Spencer hated sleeping along. And she hadn’t. Stiles or Derek were always in the room with her. Cuddling with a blanket now could substitute for not having someone there with her. She could have asked Stiles to stay with her, but she felt the need to be alone. Spencer was so angry with Derek. He had yelled at her. Made her feel inadequate, like she was no help to him.

Spencer had almost completely fallen asleep when she heard a knock at her window. She sighed. “Go away.” She said quietly, knowing all too well that a certain blue-eyed werewolf was perched on a tree branch, trying to get inside.

Derek knocked again.

“I said, go away.”

Derek huffed and pushed the window up anyway, jumping inside, lightly landing on his feet.

Spencer turned away from the wall to face Derek, sitting up in her bed. “Dammit, Derek. Do you ever listen to anyone?”

Derek didn’t answer her question, but presented her with his own. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Derek. Get out. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Red, you’re not fine.”

“Oh, what do you know?” She accused before laying back down and turning away from him, facing the wall again.

“I know what I just saw. I saw you, in pain, because of me.”

“So what? Pain stopped. I got over it.”

“You’re not over it.” Derek stated. “If you were, you’d be able to look me in the eyes. You haven’t since I yelled at you.”

Spencer took a deep breath, not really wanting to have this conversation.

“I only did it so that you would listen to me without questioning.”

“Yeah, well it worked. And I almost sawed off your arm.” Spencer groaned, standing up from her bed and moving in front of Derek. “You don’t think that this is going to haunt me for a little bit?” She asked him, harshly. “I felt your pain, Derek. Last night after I had my nightmare about you getting shot, which actually happened. When I touched you in the parking lot. And when you put the wolfsbane into your arm. It hurt. A lot.” Spencer took a breath. “I scared the crap outta Pops, and I don’t even know how I’m supposed to explain it to him. I mean, thinking about what I’d say now, all I’ve got is stuff that will confuse him more. ‘This guy comes over every night while you’re sleeping, Derek Hale, the one you arrested for murder. He’s a werewolf and he got shot last night and I could feel it because I’m a witch.’ Sounds exactly like the kind of conversation that would land me in Eichen House.” Spencer sighed, backing away from him to sit on her bed.

“That’s not what this is about, is it?” Derek asked her, quietly. “You’re not mad that I yelled at you.”

Spencer sighed again. “Derek, you almost died tonight.” Spencer explained. “I don’t think you understand how stressed out that makes me, knowing that there was a chance that I wouldn’t see you anymore.”

Derek turned away from her.

“It is complete and utter crap that you think that you’re so alone that you couldn’t come to me after you were shot. Or Scott. You could’ve come to Stiles if you needed to. He might not like you, but I hope that doesn’t mean he wants you dead. You not coming to us makes me thing that you don’t want my help.”

“I don’t want your help.” Derek agreed. “I don’t need anyone.”

“Bull shit.” Spencer argued. “You know you do. Do you really think that you could’ve gotten that bullet from the Argents without them killing you on the spot? Scott did that. For you. Stiles and I helped you get to the clinic, keeping you safe while your guard was down. We… Well, I was ready to saw your arm off. Because it would help you live.”

“I didn’t ask you to. Stiles was supposed to - ”

“It doesn’t matter who you asked to do it. It matters that I was willing to and you weren’t grateful at all. I would do just about anything for you. I really like you, but you care too much about yourself.”

“Red.” He said, taking a step towards her.

Spencer took a step back. “Derek, stop!” Spencer shouted, instantly regretting it as she heard footsteps running down the hall and bursting into her room.

Stiles appeared in front of the two. He noticed Spencer standing defensively in front of Derek, and instantly joined her side. “What are you doing?” Stiles asked Derek.

“He was just leaving.” Spencer insisted, glaring in the older wolf’s direction.

Derek huffed in a deep breath and nodded in their direction. He left through the window.

Stiles followed in his path to close the window, making sure to lock it this time.

Spencer let out a cry and fell onto her bed back into her position, facing the wall and cuddling her blanket. She sniffled.

Stiles took a step towards her bed. “Spence…”

“Stiles, I told you. I’m fine.”

Stiles knew that she wasn’t. He could hear it in her voice. Stiles sighed, and laid down in Spencer’s bed next to her. He put his arms around her and she lost all composure.

Spencer let out a sob. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles shushed her. “It’s okay, Spencer. I’ll always be here for you.”

Spencer nodded.

“Best friends, remember?”