Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: You guys are the absolute BEST! I was completely blown away by all the wonderful reviews and favorites and follows of this story. Every time I update, I'm just so excited because you guys are the best readers ever. Hopefully this chapter is worth your love.

"Oh my God. I think I'm going to die."

Stiles' condition had deteriorated rapidly on the seemingly endless drive to Derek's loft. Every jarring stop or bump in the road further inflamed the boy's intestines. Scott was too busy glancing to the side at his best friend to watch the road, leading to the driver taking far too many corners far too sharply.

Isaac eyed the boy's white-knuckled grip on the side of the jeep and bit his lip. His worried gaze darted from the human to the equally panicked alpha driving the vehicle.

"We're almost there, right?" Isaac knew the distance it took to get to Derek's loft probably better than Scott, but it still felt nice hearing the reassuring words.

"Just a few more minutes. Yeah," Scott grunted, barely catching the words behind him. There were simply too many things on his mind.

A muffled "thank God" came from the passenger side, accompanied by another grunt of pain.

"It can't be any worse than being sacrificed, right?" Isaac tittered nervously but immediately fell silent after catching the human's unimpressed glower. Stiles rolled his head back to stare longingly out the window, waiting for the telltale signs of Derek's loft.

With another panicked stream of curses, Scott yanked on the wheel and slammed the brakes as he skidded into two parking spots.

"Dude…" Stiles moaned, still fully capable of sorting his priorities. "She's way too—"

"Time to get you inside," the alpha interrupted, all but jumping out of the driver's side. Isaac scrambled after him, trying not to jostle the pale human as he shimmied out of the backseat. Scott yanked the passenger door—

—"Don't rip her door off! Serio—"

—and carefully unbuckled his friend. Scott's hand strayed on the boy's warm, flushed skin for a moment as he absorbed some of the pain.

"Ahh…ahhh…" the human gasped as the fire receded from his abdomen. "Don't take too much…ahh…"

"Just enough to get you inside," Scott grunted back, looping his arm around his friend's shoulder. He gently helped the boy slide out of the jeep, absorbing more of the pain when the human drew in a sharp breath.

Together they hobbled towards the service entrance, Scott carrying Stiles more so than guiding him. Isaac dropped his wringing hands and quickly punched the buttons to start the elevator. As the lift rose, they were greeted by silence instead of the Hale's alarm.

"I called Derek to let him know," Isaac added to break the silence.

"Good thinking," Scott nodded, smiling weakly at the younger werewolf.

Best-case scenario: Derek would have just the thing to fix whatever the Chupacabras used to infect Stiles.

Worst-case scenario? Well, Scott didn't really want to think about that at the moment.

Derek met them at the door. His stoic expression changed to mild confusion then concern after catching a whiff of the sick human.

"Isaac said—what is tha—?"

"What half-dead creature did your wolves drag…in now…" Peter descended the staircase, flippantly waving his right hand until he caught sight of the wide-eyed three teens standing in the entrance. The older man's hand flopped to his side as he inhaled again. The man's nose wrinkled as he glanced from the alpha to his beta and then finally to the shaking human in the middle.

"What is that smell?"

Scott pressed his lips together and glanced back at his pale best friend. Stiles' skin still felt like it was on fire and beads of sweat had erupted along his matted brow.

"We think it's something to do with the Chupacabras," Scott stared at Derek, ignoring Peter's repetitive, incredulous questions in the background.

"Chupacab—"

"The Chupacabras?" Derek echoed, eyebrows knitting neatly together. "What makes you think that?"

"When was there Chupaca—"

Stiles wasn't particularly fond of unintentional staling. "Well, I felt just peachy before then, so that's why," Stiles snapped irately, feeling the numbing pleasure of Scott's touch slowly dissipate. Either his friend had stopped sucking his pain, or his stomach was literally exploding. Both seemed entirely possible.

"He's feverish and has a lot of pain from where the catwalk landed on him. Do you think maybe some chemical or whatever from the Chupacabras got in his system?" Scott continued anxiously.

"That's a possibility," Derek mused, pursing his lips in deep thought. He lifted up Stiles' baggy shirt, inspecting the boy's wound on his abdomen. The bruising had gone down; however, the fleshy around his right side appeared to be puffy and swollen. He carefully prodded the human's gut, ignoring the human's hissed curses. If anything, he only pressed harder, eliciting another pained yelp.

Stiles would have swatted the werewolf away if every movement didn't feel like he was inhaling fire. "Your hands are cold," he settled for, spitting with as much malice as he could in the werewolf's general direction. Peter peered over his nephew's shoulder, eyeing the pulsing wound with his trademark rotten-egg expression.

"So, do you know what's wrong with him?" Isaac shuffled from foot to foot. He would never admit that he was genuinely worried for the loudmouth human…but still. He just wanted everyone to be happy and healthy and…odorless.

Derek dropped the shirt hem, letting the loose fabric drift back into place on its own. He exchanged a quick, tight-eyed glance with his uncle before shaking his head slowly.

"I've never seen—or smelt—anything like that," Peter admitted, shrugging with his palms splayed towards the teenagers.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Scott pressed eagerly. He tried to steal more of the human's pain, but he could tell he wasn't helping much.

"I don't know." Derek's blank gaze slid past Scott's shoulder, unable to look at the teenage alpha's furiously desperate expression.

"You must've seen this before though?"

"I don't know," the younger Hale repeated.

"That's freaking fantastic," Stiles gritted through his teeth, trying not to scream at each darting steak of agony to pierce his abdomen. "So now what? Emergency amputation at the waist? We can just call back Gerrard. He loved cutting people in half."

At the mention of the crazed hunter, Scott's eyes lit up briefly. "Maybe there's something about this in the Bestiary!"

"Where? In the spontaneous illnesses caused by goat sucking cryptids section?" Stiles couldn't help the sarcastic quips from tumbling out of his mouth. He supposed it was better than anguished grunting and screeching. After all, it was only fair that they all be in pain.

"Allison might know. Maybe her dad's seen something like this before," Isaac spoke up quickly.

"That's a good idea." Still keeping one hand suspended around his best friend, Scott rooted through his pockets for his cell phone. After a moment of frenzied searching, he gave up with an irritated huff.

"Must've left it in my lacrosse locker…"

Despite his pounding headache and pulsing abdomen, Stiles lifted his eyebrows at the ashamed admission. Small victories were still victories after all.

"Don't you dare say it," he muttered to the human. The latter was unfortunately in too much pain to take the appropriate glee in the fact that Scott had forgotten his phone as well.

He settled for a simple shrug of one shoulder.

"Just a vicious cycle, isn't it?"

A faint ring echoed through the loft and Isaac immediately pawed at his pocket. He fumbled with his device for a moment before pressing it to his ear.

"Hello…?"

"Isaac? Are you with Scott right now?"

"Allison?" The werewolf answered slowly, his gaze darting in Scott's direction to gauge the alpha's reaction. He had yet to tell his alpha why exactly Allison now had his phone number. He hit the speaker button and held the phone in Scott's direction. "Uh, yeah."

"Scott! We've been trying to call you and Stiles for the past twenty minutes! Why haven't you answered?"

"We?"

"Do either of you know that having the phone on is the first step in using it?" The sarcasm dripped through the line like honey. Derek didn't even have the decency to hide the amused lift of his eyebrow.

"Hey, Lydia…" Stiles murmured feebly, rightly guessing who the second person was.

"I swear to God, Stiles. If you don't answer your pho—"

"Allison!" Scott broke into the conversation, interrupting the banshee's ranting. "We think Stiles might have been infected by something from the Chupacabra. Do you know what it might be?"

"What are his symptoms?"

Scott glanced at Stiles' flushed and sweaty face. "Fever, pain around his abdomen—"

"Make that severe pain. Also, drunk-goggles dizziness and a massive urge to heave."

"And he smells really bad. Like death bad."

"Thanks, Isaac. That completely slipped my mind."

"This was a sudden onset?" Lydia added after a moment of consideration.

"Yeah," Stiles closed his eyes to concentrate, thinking back to when the pain first appeared. "My whole gut hurt after the catwalk incident, but the real pain didn't settle in until the next morning. Though don't bother checking WebMD—it isn't smallpox or stomach cancer," he added sarcastically.

There was a beat of silence on the phone and the gathered males glanced around at each other questioningly.

"Is the pain more so around your right side?"

"Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Do…do you think you know what's wrong?" Scott ventured slowly.

There was another pause and a moment of hushed whispering as Lydia and Allison conversed on the other line.

"Did it ever occur to you that this might not be something supernatural?"

"What?" Stiles opened his mouth and then shut it again. It never occurred to him. It hadn't occurred to any of them.

"No," the alpha admitted. "I mean—it can't have just happened after twenty four hours. It has to be something…not human."

"Stiles, do you still have your appendix?"

"What? My appendi—oh… Yeah."

Derek blinked, glancing around at the equally confused werewolves. As a born werewolf, he had never experienced a majority of human illnesses. Peter seemed equally at loss.

"Appendicitis?" The older Hale blinked twice, unaccustomed to being out of his depth. He understood magical illness, but human ailments were a completely different game.

"I had to get my appendix taken out when I was a younger," Allison added. "I had the same symptoms as Stiles. The pain, headaches, fever—all of it."

"Hang on, hang on." Stiles interrupted, with an incredulous shake of his head. "I thought appendicitis wasn't some kind of thing that just happened overnight. Doesn't it take a while to develop…?"

"It did for me, but—"

"Blunt abdominal trauma-induced appendicitis is rare, but entirely possible." Lydia's voice sounded mechanical, as if she was reciting aloud from a medical journal. "It usually occurs after some blunt injury to the abdomen like a fall or a punch to the gut."

"Oh…" Stiles groaned, rolling his eyes upwards in a sign of defeat. "The catwalk."

"Right. The force can cause the blockage in your appendix, speeding up the process and causing pressure to build until the appendix…"

"Until it what?" Scott demanded, though he already felt the answer in his gut. He couldn't rid himself of the mental image of an overinflated balloon, swelling until it simply…

"Ruptures. Releasing toxic bacteria throughout the body."

Although the human was relieved to have some vague idea of what was plaguing him, a rupturing appendix did not sound like a picnic.

"I suppose this beats Chupacabra cancer…"

"Scott, you need to get him to a hospital now." Allison's voice was low and urgent.

"She's right," Lydia continued. The words bubbled into the room as the banshee tried to talk as fast and concise as possible. "I had my suspicions after you and Isaac complained about the smell during school. That smell isn't from the Chupacabra—it's from the dying tissue caused by the growing bacteria in Stiles' appendix."

"That sounds…awful," Isaac echoed, trailing behind the alpha. Throughout the girl's explanation, Scott had gently guided Stiles back to the elevator. Derek disappeared for a moment and then reappeared, clutching his jacket under his arm and his car keys in his white-knuckled fist.

"On a scale of one to ten, what's the pain at?"

Stiles paused for a moment, considering the question. "When I'm moving, probably around a six or seven. Is that bad?" The human froze, his mouth dropping open in a horrified gasp. "Oh no. It hasn't ruptured yet, has it?"

"I…don't think so." Scott imagined the strawberry blonde pursing her lips together as she pondered the answer.

"You would definitely know when it ruptured," Allison added.

"That's comforting," Stiles muttered as the alpha helped him settle into the passenger seat. The werewolf hesitated before buckling his best friend in, yanking the seatbelt to be as loose as possible. It would be their luck to get in a car accident rushing to the hospital.

"Allison, we have to hang up now," Scott called over his shoulder after sliding into the driver's seat. Isaac nodded, with one finger hovering over the "end call" button. "I have to call my mom and make sure she knows we're coming."

"I understand."

"Just hurry, alright?" Lydia added. She could only sound emotionless for so long. Now the anxiety they all felt trickled into her voice. It was a daunting thought, but this could possibly be the last conversation they had with a certain human.

Derek revved his engine beside them, signaling that it was time to go.

Without a goodbye, Isaac quickly ended the call and flipped through his contacts until he found Melissa.

"Please pick up. Please pick up," Scott muttered from the front seat, hoping that at least one person in his disjointed family was responsible enough to keep their phone on.

After the third ring, Melissa's confused voice filled the cab.

"Hello? Isaac…?"

"Mom!" Scott shouted, tossing another wild glance over his shoulder. "Are you at the hospital right now?"

"Scott? Of course. I told you I had work today, but wh—oh my God." Her son's question and the desperate tone of his voice finally registered in her mind. There was a brief pause on the other line. "Is everyone alright?"

"Well…" Scott hesitated, glancing to his grimacing best friend beside him. "What do you know about appendicitis?"

As per his mother's instructions, Scott pulled into the emergency room parking lot. He jumped out of the jeep and all but ran to the passenger side. By this point, the nurses waiting inside the glass windows of the emergency room poured out through the front door with a stretcher in tow. Scott released his pent-up breath of relief. His mom had warned the doctors of their arrival, meaning Stiles would get treatment immediately.

Stiles, on the other hand, was not so gleeful, especially after catching sight of the dusty police cruiser parked nearby. He groaned loudly, which only worried Scott more. At the sight of his best friend's panicked expression, the human quickly explained the reason for his disappointment.

"Your mom must've called my dad. He's probably freaking out. I never told him anything about yesterday."

"You didn't tell him anything?" Scott echoed, furrowing his brow. He had always assumed the Stilinskis were much more honest ever since the whole human sacrifice showdown.

"Do you even know me?" The human countered.

"Fair point," Scott suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, letting the paramedics guide his best friend to the gurney. The human had an annoying fondness for hiding the truth. Stiles wouldn't have confessed his health problems even to Scott until it was too hard to hide them.

Scott missed the low grunting of the paramedics, but it was obvious that they were ready to move. Stiles lifted his hand with a wry expression, giving the werewolves a perfunctory wave as the paramedics wheeled him inside the emergency room.

Scott went to follow the human into the hospital, but Isaac reached out and briefly tapped the alpha's arm before dropping his hand. Scott stopped and turned, catching sight of his mother waiting by the glass doors where Stiles had just disappeared.

The alpha moved as fast as he possibly towards her could without alerting other patrons of his supernatural speed. "Mom! You are the best," he rushed out, profusely thanking his mother for preparing the emergency room for their arrival.

Isaac shuffled his feet beside his alpha and glanced from his pack brother to his adoptive mother. "Is he going to be okay?"

Melissa smiled warmly, reaching out to brush her two boys' arms. "If what Lydia and Allison seemed to think is true, then his appendix hasn't ruptured yet. That means the surgery will be much safer and he won't have to stay in the hospital as long."

"What would have happened if his appendix did rupture…?"

The woman frowned slightly. "It wouldn't be immediately fatal, but there would be a massive risk of contamination throughout the body. The surgery would be much riskier and there would be a greater chance for infection."

"Hopefully we got him here in time then."

Melissa agreed with a wide smile. "The sooner, the better. Though…" she paused, pursing her lips thoughtfully, "this could have been avoided if he had just let us take a few tests last night. For a human who's part of a wolf pack, he's terrified of the simplest things. Like x-rays."

If his mother was joking, that was an excellent sign for his best friend's fate. Scott laughed, feeling the anxious knots in his stomach loosen. "I'll make sure he gets the whole package next time we fight some supernatural creature."

She nodded and excused herself, saying she had to get ready if she wanted to be present during the boy's surgery. Almost as if an afterthought, she stopped in the middle of the hallway and tossed back her head. "You have a few visitors in the waiting lounge, by the way," she commented before continuing her hurried trek towards the pre-op station.

Isaac and Scott swapped glances before the latter smiled faintly. "It must be others."

"Yeah," Isaac echoed lamely. "Lydia, Derek…Allison." He peeked back at his alpha. Now that the stress of sick Stiles was out of their hands, the younger werewolf could return to worrying about his blossoming relationship with his alpha's ex.

Scott caught the beta's awkward hesitation. "Dude, I've told you a hundred times," he began, clasping the taller boy's shoulder. "I'm totally fine with you and Allison."

Isaac nodded slowly, unsure if he believed the werewolf's forced smile.

"But we can talk about it later. 'Kay? Right now we probably should go find the others and tell them about Stiles before Lydia completely rips apart the hospital."

"Right," Isaac chuckled nervously at the mental image. It was entirely possible and he didn't want to test the banshee.

Thank you for reading! You guys are fantastic. As for that Scott and Stiles oneshot I mentioned in the last chapter, I don't really have a release date set (because that would be too professional and I'm nothing if not a supreme amateur), but I can put it in my "priorities" folder if you want it sooner.