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August 8th, 2025
Beacon Hills, California
Yale walked into the kitchen of the cabin and immediately collapsed to the floor. Mack was laid out on the kitchen table, eyes closed, chest unmoving. The dagger laid beside her, amongst a pile of bloody gauze, multiple herbs and medical supplies. Stiles was sitting beside her, his head back, his hands coated in blood.
"No, no, no," Yale cried, slamming his hands against the floor.
"I'm so sorry," Stiles whispered, shaking his head. Scott, Malia, and Lydia all walked up to the table, laying their hands on Mack and closing their eyes. Derek came up to Stiles' side, kneeling beside him and taking his hands. "I did all I could," he whispered brokenly, his hands trembling in Derek's grip.
"We know," he said, holding Stiles firmly as he dropped his head so his forehead was resting against Derek's.
"Please, please!" Yale sobbed, gasping for air as he leaned into Julio's chest, gripping his ripped tee shirt desperately.
"I got you," Julio whispered.
"I can't," Yale sobbed.
"I know." Tears dripped down Julio's cheeks, leaving streaks in the dirt that coated them. "I know."
Valencia slowly walked up to the table, standing by Mack's head and carefully laying her hand on her forehead. Images flashed behind her eyes. Stiles desperately trying to stop the bleeding while preparing different elements of a healing salve. His magic falling short as her weak body failed to hold onto life.
"She wasn't scared," Valencia whispered. Yale's sobs were choked off as he lifted himself from Julio's chest. "She wasn't in pain."
"You can see her?" Yale whimpered.
"She fought," Valencia said. "She was still projecting her magic to help Stiles complete the spell. She gave all of herself to save us."
"Dumbass," Yale shook his head. It pulled grief-stricken laughs from everyone.
"She was thinking of you last," Valencia said. "She was only thinking of you. She was worried about you. She loved you." That pulled another weak sob from Yale and he collapsed back against Julio's chest, crying softly.
"I tried to extend my own to her," Stiles sobbed, his elbows on his knees, his head hung low against Derek's chest. Derek's eyes squeezed shut, his arms wrapped tight around him. "It wasn't enough."
