Stiles POV

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It was honestly really creepy in the Mexican desert at night. Not as creepy as Peter Hale watching you sleep, but creepier than finding a dead body in your bathtub (it might seem like Peter watching you sleep would be less creepy than a body in your tub, but it's terrifying. Trust me).

First, they had to get into the creepy death hole. Not hard. But then they had to go down a creepy hallway, and there was some sort of werejaguar thing that was completely and totally terrifying. Or, it was suppossed to be.

"Stiles, get back," Scott hissed, putting himself in front of Stiles and Maya. After the jaguar growled again, Stiles groaned and shoved Scott aside.

"You get back, this isn't a damn werejaguar. It's Ryann, isn't it?"

The noises stopped and a familiar laughter filled the room.

"How did you guess?" She asked.

"Mostly because any jaguar-esque creatures wouldn't be this early on in the dungeon. Video game logic. Also, I know what you sound like because I live with you,"

"Well, Petey told me this is where you were headed, I figured I'd tag along,"

"You found Derek yet?" Stiles asked eagerly, walking further along the dark hall.

"No. Can't get past this door," She gestured to a large stone wall covered in growth.

"Door?" Scott asked quizzically. Stiles pointed to a marking on it and traced it with his fingertip.

"That's Derek's tattoo,"

"Move," Maya sighed, and in a few moments the wall slid open. "Now there's gonna be a real cat, so, stay sharp,"

"That was some Maze Runner shit right there," Stiles whispered. "That wall just..."

"Hush,"

The next part of the journey was actually freaky, because there was a real jaguar thing and it came running. Scott roared at it and it scampered, but Ryann felt bad and stayed back to comfort it. She really, really liked cats.

The next part was hardest, because it was just a never ending hall of stone. Stiles could feel Derek. And it took everything he had in him not to run down the hall to Derek. But Maya said no, that bitch. Something about getting them all killed or something.

"Stop," Scott whispered, sticking a hand out. "I smell Kate. She's not here, but she was. We're close,"

Stiles nodded eagerly and elbowed his friend, signaling for him to move faster. Scott elbowed back but picked up his pace.

They reached a different door, same type of thing where Maya did something Stiles didn't care to pay attention to and the wall slid open. And Stiles ran in, because fuck the other two, he could see a silhouette chained against the wall and he knew who it was.

"Derek," he breathed, kneeling in front of him. He smelled like wolfsbane and blood. "Please, please look at me, Derek," he grabbed Derek's face and turned it, but the older man's eyes didn't open. Stiles put his head against Derek's chest. It had to be there. There had to be a fucking heartbeat. "I love you," Stiles said quietly, tears coming too hot and too fast down his face. "Please, Derek, please. Just breathe, please, for me. I love you, God, I love you so much, you have to be alive,"

He didn't know how long he sat there, crying on Derek's chest. It felt like an eternity. He couldn't hear a heartbeat and that meant Derek was dead. His whole world, his love, his life, was there in front of him. And he was bloody, he was poisoned, and he wasn't breathing. He had been too late. He had broken his promise, he hadn't saved Derek.

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