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Summary
Stiles focused on Derek’s face long enough to see a flicker of regret flash across it. Good. Serves him right for throwing him against a brick wall.
Stiles felt his back hit said well, and he went limp as Derek worked his coat closed.
“I don’t think you can take me to the hospital though, Derek.”
The hands stilled.
“And why is that?”
“I don’t think they allow dogs.”
“I’m going to kill you.”