let me love you {2} - stiles stilinski

bullet casing

PART ONE

I stand in the middle of a small Mexican city, next to Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin. They took me out of Fresno after only two weeks of being there for a camping trip, but little did I know I needed my passport. I haven't really talked to Stiles since I left, we stayed silent the entire way here.

Derek Hale had gone missing from his loft. When my brother went up there, they found bullet casings with a Mexican hunter family symbol imprinted on them. We tracked them to Mexico, at least that's what Chris Argent told us.

My dark brown hair is in a low ponytail, a few pieces framing my face. I quickly blew them away after the Mexican wind put them in my face. I'm wearing a black crop top and a white and grey flannel is covering my arms. I have blue jean shorts with white high top converse, my tall socks peaking from the top.

"This doesn't seem so bad." Stiles says while rubbing his hands together.

I glance at him. "The town isn't bad. It's the plan that is."

"What's wrong with the plan?" He asks.

I roll to my tip toes then back to my heels from nerves. "Stiles. It's a terrible plan. Worse than any I've been apart of."

"You're aware of that, right?" Lydia asks.

"Okay fine. I'm aware it's not our best." Stiles admits.

"We are going to die." Lydia blurts.

We start to walk. "Are you saying that as a Banshee or are you just being pessimistic?" Stiles asks.

"I'm saying it as a person who doesn't want to die." Lydia looks up at Stiles.

Stiles puts his hands together. "Okay. Would you mind restricting any talk of death to actual Banshee predictions?"

"This plan is stupid and we're going to die." I say. Stiles glances at me with a small glare. "Hey, you didn't say I couldn't."

"Wow, thanks."

We finally walk up to a tall door with two guards standing outside. I take one step closer to Stiles, even though I'm the supernatural one, not him. Before I could think twice, Lydia speaks something in Spanish. The guard shakes his head no, so I elbow Stiles who then digs something out of his pocket. He shows them a card with a skull on it. The guards look at each other quickly then at the camera, signaling us to show it the card. Stiles does so and then the door opens and the guards step aside, letting us in.

The hallway is eerie, dim lights were on the red walls, all leading to a big heavy door at the end. The entrance doors close behind and all three of us look back. I glance at Stiles. "This is a terrible plan." Stiles just looks at me and I raise my eyebrows. He nods in agreement before we keep walking down the hallway.

Stiles stands in front of us, leading us into our doom. As we reach the heavy door, Stiles looks at Lydia and I before opening it. Loud music filled my head as a party is on the other side. People have alcohol in hand, dancing away to the music. It reminded me of the party in Derek's loft, but we don't talk about that. There's a second floor that had a balcony, which was where the DJ is set up. As we start to weave through the crowd, a man on the top caught my eye and we made eye contact before he said something through his radio.

I grab Stiles's arm, trying not to get lost in the crowd of people grinding on each other. I look back, seeing Lydia starting to get lost. I quickly grab her wrist and she looks at me and smiles, thanking me. We stand at the bar, Lydia and I on both sides of Stiles. The bartender gives us each a shot, even though we didn't ask for any. Stiles fumbles trying to grab his wallet until a man put his hands in Lydia and Stiles's shoulders.

"No, this one is on the house." He says with his deep voice. He glances at me. "Most American teenagers don't cross the border to refuse a drink."

"We didn't come to drink." Lydia states before glancing at me. I nod before putting a bullet casing in Stiles's shot. It has a carving of a Mexican family emblem, which is the man's.

"Let's go." He says and leaves the bar. We follow, the pit of my stomach wrenching due to my nerves. We follow him down a hallway before he leads us into a grand room. Three chairs were lined up in front of a desk, where an older lady sat. I'm not sure what she is doing, all I know is that she is holding something quite sharp.

We sit in the chairs, not sure what we are doing. "Severo hates this music." She refers to the man that brought us in. "Me? I've always loved the music of youth. This kind especially. It has a savage energy."

"We're here for Derek Hale." Lydia pipes in.

The old lady looks up. "Is that so?"

"We know you have him. We heard he can be bought." I say. She looks at me, trying to out the pieces together of who- or what I am.

Stiles starts to dig in his pockets, grabbing stacks of money. "It's $50,000 for Derek."

"Now," the old lady leans towards us, "where does a teenage boy get money like this? Japanese mafia?" Clicking of guns makes me turn, looking at each person doing it. I turn back to the old lady who leaned in her desk. "Not smart to come alone."

Stiles had a small smirk upon his face. "What makes you think we came alone?" Worry started to display on her face.

She stands, quite angry. "You brought a wolf into my home?"

I lean forward. "We brought an Alpha."

She sighs, turning to the window behind her. "My friends, I don't think you're aware of your poor timing. Do you know what the dark moon is?"

"The part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky." I explain.

She turns to us. "Do you know it's meaning?"

"Some people say it's a time of reflection, of grief." Lydia says.

"Grief and loss, mija." The old lady says. "I wonder why, when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again for someone like Derek Hale."

"Because we don't like to lose." Stiles says.

Severo's radio sounds. "Front door clear. South clear."

"North?" Severo asks. "North?" He asks again.

"Stiles." Someone says through the radio. "Take 10 off the table." The voice of my twin Scott McCall sounded through.