"Stiles!" He heard a voice clear as a bell in his ear. "Dude!"
Scott. It was Scott. Why was Scott yelling in his ear? Everything was white hot pain, especially his wrists. He was shivering from the damp cold surrounding him. He struggled weakly, fighting to open his eyes. No dice.
"Stiles?" Scott's voice again, this time questioning. Then it became slightly lower and more worried. "Derek, what's wrong with him. He barely has a pulse."
Derek was there? What a treat. Where was he anyways? He didn't remember a thing.
"Let me get him down first. " Was Derek's response.
"Gah-" Stiles cut in. Good start, he thought to himself. But actual words would be better.
"Stiles!" Scott sounded ecstatic.
"Hold him." Derek said, his voice near his other ear now.
Stiles then felt arms painfully wrap around him. He moaned softly in protest. All of a sudden the pressure on his wrists was gone and he was falling into someone's arms.
"I gotcha buddy." Scott whispered in his ear.
Stiles pried his eyes half open to see Scott staring down at him, worried. He smiled, before slipping his eyes shut again.
"We can't stay here Scott. Whatever took Stiles could come back anytime. " Derek's voice echoed slightly.
"Right." Scott agreed.
And suddenly Stiles was up again, in Scott's arms this time, judging by the height. His hero, he thought sarcastically. "Let's go." He could hear the rumble of Scott's voice in his chest as he slipped back into blackness once more.
