Memories {Teen Wolf/Maze Runner crossover fanfiction}

"Welcome To Hell Scotty."

*Scotts POV*

It was dark.

Really, really dark. Even with his werewolf eyes all Scott could make out were the vague outlines of some boxes. Teresa said it was supposed to be like this, to 'stimulate the mind' or something, WICKED did it to Stiles too - she called it the box, said that it was the only way to get into the glade without setting off any alarms.

"It's so dark." Even from the other side of the box, Scott could hear Malia panicking - hyperventilating. Lydia was muttering faint encouragements, but it didn't seem to be doing much, "I can't see."

"Malia." Scott broached, fumbling his way over - he managed to bash his side into three things, but otherwise remained unharmed. He grabbed Malia's hand, and, after a pause, Lydia's too, "You can do this. We can do this. This isn't about us, this is about Stiles.. we're here to save him... we're here to save our friend."

There was the sound of deep breaths, before Malia sighed, tightening her grip on his hand, "We can do this."

"Yes we-" Scott broke off, the box lurching to a halt. Boxes clattered, sending him spiralling sideways, Lydia landing next to him - Malia managed to remain upright, but only by gripping on to the box so tightly she nearly broke the metal.

Daylight spilled in after some groaning, so bright Scott had to blink to clear his vision. He fought past the sudden blindness, and reached up, gripping onto the roof of the box - pulling himself up. It was cooler than he expected, like the box was trying to tell him just how stupid this plan was.

"C'mon." He held a hand down to Lydia - Malia had already pulled herself out - and pulled the strawberry blonde up, keeping her hand in his even when they were standing. Scott needed the support, and he knew Lydia wouldn't judge him for that.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he whirled, prepared to shift, letting go of Lydia's hand. Malia was already poised to fight.

"Who the shuck are you?" The boy that spoke was holding a knife with the security of someone who knew how to wield it. He twisted his face into something hostile, not even slightly fazed by Malia's snarl.

"Minho?!" This time it was a blonde boy who came running, Teresa had already explained who was which. Newt took up position beside Minho, holding a knife of his own, though not as violently, he turned to the asian boy, sighing, "Tommy's still out cold, who're these shanks?"

"Thomas?" Lydia cut in, pulling something out of her pockets - she shot an apologetic look at Scott, before taking a deliberate step forwards, "Teresa told me to give him this."

"Wha-" Scott looked at Lydia with a little betrayal - he'd of thought she'd of trusted him with such a trivial thing. Malia snarled again, though it looked like she didn't know who it was at.

"It's an injection. She said it would keep him going until we could get out." Lydia explained patiently, not quite meeting Scott's eye, "She said it would work."

"Teresa sent you?" Newt lowered his weapon, taking a step forwards, to meet Lydia and take the vial out of her hands - now he could see it, it looked scarily like katima venom. Though he knew it wasn't, he'd been around his mom enough to recognise medicine when he saw it.

"That's great and all, but who the shuck are you?" Minho was still brandishing his knife, a threat Malia obviously took heed of - because she made move to attack.

"It's okay!" The voice sounded far off, and everyone paused at it - though probably for different reasons. They all watched, wide-eyed, as Stiles sprinted the length of the glade, coming to stand beside Minho, "It's okay Minho. We can trust them."

"Because they know Teresa?" Minho asked incredulously, not letting his knife drop. There was an obvious spasm of something when Teresa's name was mentioned, but Scott wasn't brave enough to ask what.

"Tommy?! Why the bloody hell are you out of bed?!" Newt was near yelling, making a move as though to help Stiles stand. But Stiles shook him off, keeping his attention fixedly on Minho.

"I'm fine, and no Minho... Because I remember him." Thomas withdrew the knife from Minho's hands, letting the blade clatter to the floor. He turned to Scott, holding a hand out, "Welcome to hell Scotty. You'll never want to leave, and even if you do, well, you can't."