wayward // d. hale

six

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Willa is standing in the surgery suite of the clinic finishing up the aftercare for a spay on an unusually moody Maine Coone when her phone rings in the pocket of her scrubs. Deaton had left when the clinic technically closed, telling Willa not to work too late and leaving only her in the office. Willa keeps a hand on the cat's back, effectively keeping it subdued so she can answer the phone.

Her brows furrow as she takes in Scott's name on the Caller ID. He didn't work todayーhe had asked Deaton for the afternoon off so that he could catch up on some studyingーso she's not sure why he would be calling her.

"Hey, Scotty. What's up?"

He's frantic as he completely ignores her greeting, "Where are you? Are you still at the clinic? You said this morning you might work late."

She stiffens, immediately on high alert, "Yeah, why? What's wrong?"

"Derek was shot by a hunter last night and he's not healingー"

"Why isn't he healing?" Willa asks incredulously.

"I-I don't know! Something about a special kind of bullet or somethingーI've got to find whatever he was shot with at Allison's house but Stiles is with Derek now. He was going to take him to Derek's house but Derek told him not to. I figured if you were at the clinic still that they could come there."

"Okay, yeah, I'll call Stiles and tell him to bring Derek here."

Scott thanks her quickly, saying something about having to go because he was in the middle of dinner with Allison's family. Willa wonders to herself what having friends her own age might be like instead of two teenagers, but before she can consider how much of a loser she is she's met with Stiles' frantic yet relieved voice over her phone's speaker.

"Oh, thank God. Please tell me you're going to save me from this literal nightmare that's going to plague me for years to come."

Despite the current circumstances, Willa smiles. "Hey, just bring him to the clinic, okay? Can you describe what we're dealing with so I know what kind of supplies I might need? I'll go ahead and get them out before you get here."

Stiles hums thoughtfully, "Well, let's see... I think you'll just need your euthanization kit and a shovel so we can bury him out back, how's that sound?"

"Stiles," Willa scolds just as a more muffled voice comes through the phone saying the threat of ripping your throat out still stands. "Just get him here, okay? I'll meet you two at the back entrance."

Once Stiles agrees to the plan, Willa hangs up and wraps up things with the Maine Coone as quick as she can. She's putting the cat back in one of the enclosures in the boarding room when there's a rapid knocking at the back door.

Willa hurries to unlock it, swinging it open to reveal a distressed Stiles and a sickly-looking Derek. Her eyes widen and a gasp escapes her at the sight of the pale manーthe dark bags under his eyes and sweat beading on his forehead from exertion doesn't help his frail look. Willa's honestly afraid to move him as he looks only moments from passing out, and God knows she wouldn't be able to keep him upright if he fainted while she was supporting him.

Derek looks up at her from where he'd collapsed onto a stack of dog food bags with the most pitiful, sunken-in eyes she's ever seen. Willa rushes to his side, placing a hand on his cheek and then on his forehead in order to check his temperature. His clammy skin seems to be both cold and incredibly hot to the touchーsomething Willa's never encountered before.