It was too dangerous. They had discussed leaving Lydia behind…maybe even Stiles. But in the end, they all piled into Stiles' jeep and met at Derek's loft. The Calavaras would be coming for them at any time. They had to prepare. Scott had bitten Liam and now they would all pay the price. The Calavaras wouldn't care if it saved someone's life, to them, the bite was a curse, a sin, and the creature that inflicted the damage should be put down like a rabid dog. Chris was only able to protect them for a short amount of time. The Calavaras were adamant about their code. While they were content to send half of their group with Chris to look for Kate, the other half were put to the task of hunting Scott...

Malia told them that it was a bad idea. Scott had said that they should stay behind. But, Lydia and Stiles refused to remain behind while the others put themselves in danger. Besides, Lydia was damn handy to have around. She could sense death as well as a werewolf could catch a scent. But, she couldn't heal. She would never heal if something happened to her. Stiles was in the same position, but his death would come without warning.

Lydia began to feel the tension in her throat as a scream began to work its way up her throat. They all knew they were in danger, but they hadn't realized how much danger…Once everything was arranged, they left Derek's loft and headed for Mexico. They had a plan in place, prepared and plotted. But, of course, the plan had gone array. Instead of allowing the Calavaras to come into their homes, they packed up and traveled halfway to Mexico. If they met them halfway, maybe they could spare their families, the innocents. Surely, this would work. They were wrong.

The shots tore through the silence of the desert, tornadoes of dust flew up into the pack's eyes. Bullets possess no forgiveness, no mercy. When a hunter trains their weapon on you, squeezes the trigger, there is no going back. Lydia had told them that trying to talk to the Calavaras wouldn't help. They were bent on destroying Scott and his pack now that Liam was Scott's beta and Chris wasn't there to protect Scott and his pack anymore.

In their desperation to avoid the bullets, they all fled into the underground tunnels, into the darkness, and into an environment that they found themselves unfamiliar with. The last time that they had found themselves in these tunnels, Peter had revealed his plans to kill Scott, Kate had wreaked havoc, Malia had nearly killed her newly found alpha. This trip into the impenetrable darkness wasn't any better.

As they ran, Malia's heart beat furiously in her chest, determined to continue pumping, to survive. Scott sprinted ahead of her, trying to lead them all back to the Jeep, to safety of some kind. This was a mistake, a plan to hastily hatched. She could feel Scott's anxiety, his guilt, and fear hanging about him like a curtain. He led them into this and now he was desperate to get them all out. Malia shoved Stiles in front of her, pushing him to run faster. She could see four heads bobbing as they ran in front of her; Scott, Liam, Stiles, Kira…Lydia. Where was Lydia?

As Malia turned to look behind her, she saw a flash of blinding light and her ears rang with the sound of gunfire. She clapped her hands over her ears and dropped to the ground, screaming "LYDIA!" Malia blinked rapidly, trying to see through the spots in her sight, trying to penetrate the surrounding darkness. She saw the leather boots of a hunter, feet from her, and the owner training the barrel of a gun on her. In one quick motion, she leapt on the hunter, and silenced him completely. She paused only a moment to listen for other hunters and then focused on listening for Lydia in the darkness. She could no longer hear the others. She was entirely alone. Only seconds had passed, though it felt like hours. Finally, Malia heard the slightest of sounds. Ragged breathing reached her ears. She didn't dare call out to Lydia again. Instead she slowly and carefully crept towards the sound until she heard, not only, breathing, but the weak sound of a heartbeat. It reminded her of injured prey she had seen in the woods…

She inhaled deeply and caught Lydia's scent. She dropped to her knees again when she saw Lydia lying on the ground, motionless. "Lydia…" She whispered. "Lydia, come on." An immense internal struggle was occurring in Malia's mind. The coyote in her begged her to run, to survive, and leave the feeble behind, but the human part of her told her to stay. Lydia was her friend.

Lydia was pressing hard on her stomach, where a deep red stain spread across the fabric of her green shirt. She was paler than usual and a fine layer of sweat coated her forehead. She looked feeble, weak. She was dying. "You have to go, Malia. Please go." She was crying. Malia had never seen Lydia cry.

"I can't leave you…you're my friend…and Stiles, Stiles will never leave you. You know that. Here, let me lift you. I can get you to the jeep…" Malia reached for Lydia, but Lydia shrank away from her grasp.

"Malia, you have to leave me. You know as well as I do, if I get into that jeep, I will be dead within minutes. I have a better chance of surviving if the Calavaras find me. They won't kill me. I'm a banshee. They're too curious…They might need me…" Her eyelids fluttered weakly. "Get the others out. Get them out of here, Malia…" Lydia's eyes began to close, too heavy with fatigue to remain open. The sound of voices reached Malia's ears and she looked over her shoulder into the darkness. Lydia was right. Malia knew it, and yet it pained her to give up, to leave her friend. Especially when she knew what it would do to their friends. To Stiles.

"What will I tell them, Lydia? They'll never leave you. You're not supposed to leave a member of the pack behind. We don't leave our friends to die." The voices were coming closer and they weren't speaking English…

"Malia, get out of her before they kill you. I'll be fine. Leave me…Tell them I'm already dead. Don't you dare tell them I'm alive." She grabbed Malia's wrist in her small, porcelain hand.

"Lydia, no. I can't-" Malia, said. Her throat felt constricted. She had not experienced this feeling since she was 8 years old and left the bodies of her mother and sister behind her…She felt guilt settle into her stomach.

"That's the only way they'll go. This place will be swarming with hunters soon, you have… to go. You need…leave…take care…of the others. Malia take care of them…Stiles…take care of him, Malia." Her hand slipped from Malia's wrist as she fell unconscious. Her heart was so faint.

Malia looked hard at Lydia, one last time and then nodded to herself. It had to be done. She hugged Lydia's limp body to her and then, without a second thought Malia sprinted for escape, back out into the desert, leaving one of her only friends to die on the dusty ground of the catacombs…

As soon as she emerged into the moonlight, both Stiles and Scott ran to her. "What happened?" Stiles said frantically, looking at Lydia's blood, smeared across Malia's shirt. "Are you okay? Lydia. Where's Lydia?" His eyes were wide, full of panic and dread. Scott was breathing heavily, looking at the blood on Malia's shirt.

"Oh god…" Malia knew he could smell Lydia's scent.

Malia stared blankly at the two of them. She heard Stiles' heart accelerate in pace, felt the panic rising in him. It stung her nose. "She's dead." Malia said it flatly, with no emotion in her voice. She brushed past Scott, standing stock-still, past Stiles, past Kira and Liam. "We need to leave. Now." It wasn't until she was past them that she let her tears fall. She brushed them away roughly. Those would be her secret too.