If You're Going Through Hell

A/N: Hi all! I hope you enjoy this next installment. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 5: Lost and Found

"Not far," Stiles said, pausing at the peak. "Scott should be just over there," he added, pointing. Derek's jaw dropped once more.

They had reached the crest of the jagged hill. Derek began to realize just how enormous Limbo world must be. Their vantage point overlooked what could only be described as an abyss that stretched for miles in all directions. The lava river, now about half a mile to their left, cascaded over the edge of the cliff, becoming a lava waterfall that descended to the depths of what must be Hell itself by the looks of things. Looking down into the chasm, Derek could not begin to guess how deep it must be, the lava waterfall ending at little more than a pinprick at the bottom, an orange dot against the gray and black backdrop. Up top, where they currently were, the opening in the cave must have been at least several miles across, the other cliffside just barely visible from where Derek and Stiles stood.

There was also movement all around them, Derek noticed as he took a closer look. A demon or two would occasionally fly out of nowhere, circling the abyss before landing in another location or taking off down one of the six caverns that fed into it, like the one they had just come from. He could also make out a few people, by the looks of them, wandering along different narrow paths in the rock walls that descended below.

"Yeah, it's quite impressive," Stiles said, watching Derek taking in his surroundings, "and depressing, once you realize what it's for."

"What do you mean?" Derek asked, coming back to his senses and out of his stupor.

"Do you see those little things in the rock walls of the chasm, they look kind of like doors or gates?" Stiles pointed towards the opposite side of the cave. Derek hadn't noticed them at first glance, but now that he was focusing in on it, he could make out dozens of the things, and they indeed did look like little doors – some modern ones, like you would find in a home, others much more medieval or gothic looking.

"What are they?" Derek asked, scanning the rest of the walls of the abyss, noticing the doors continued down as far as his werewolf eyes could see. There were easily thousands of them just along the portions of rock he could make out.

"The demons call this the Suicide Pit," Stiles said, his voice hitching slightly at the words, "Every person who committed suicide in life is brought here. Or, I guess everyone who does it within our Nemeton's range of influence, since there are other Limbo worlds for the other Nemetons. There's…one door per person."

"Wha….oh," Derek replied, a knot forming in his chest that had nothing to do with the smells or the heat of the cave. He looked back around at the miles-wide cavern, unable to even begin to guess how many different doors, and consequently how many different people who had taken their own life those doors represented, there must be here. "How are we going to find Scott in all of this? It would take years to check each one of these."

Stiles grimaced slightly. "I don't intend to check them all individually."

Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, taking in his expression. It was one he had seen on the young man several times before, always just before Stiles said something that Derek didn't like. I'm going to regret this, he thought to himself. "What are you planning on doing instead?"

Stiles chuckled nervously, solidifying the rock that plummeted into the pit of Derek's stomach. "Wellll," he said, rubbing at his arm absentmindedly, "you see, the demons are not very smart, we already talked about that, but I guess they are either smart enough to know what they are doing or they were at one time when they were getting things organized, or maybe there is some sort of Head Demon who runs this whole thing and he put it all together, or maybe she, you never know…"

"Stiles!" Derek interjected, stopping the rambling.

"Right, right, sorry!" he said hastily, "Anyways, the demons have some sort of room where they keep records of where all of the different…people…are kept. All we have to do is figure out where that room is, and then I can go in as a demon and look up where Scott is being kept."

"That's all we have to do?" Derek asked exasperated, "Stiles, that's a terrible plan."

"What? No, it isn't."

"What happens if we can't find this room? Or what happens if you can't convince the other demons that you are one of them? Or what if…"

"Derek, we're never going to get anywhere if we don't try," Stiles interjected, "there are lots of 'what ifs,' there were a lot of 'what ifs' when I contacted you and Lydia, and when we brought you here. But, like you said earlier, we have faced danger together before, and we have to try if it means saving our friends."

Derek still looked skeptical, but Stiles continued before he could voice anymore objections, "as for the things you brought up, I believe we can find this record room without too much trouble. It's like, police academy 101, if you want to find out where a bad guy's hangout is, all you have to do is go on a stakeout. We just need to stay up here on this hill for awhile and watch where the other demons go. If we find a door that several of them go in and out of, then we find their headquarters."

"That…actually makes sense," Derek said reluctantly, "but what about you trying to sneak in? What if the other demons see you?"

"Well, I'm not going to sneak in, I'm going to fly in," he said simply, raising Derek's blood pressure in the process. "What?" Stiles asked, seeing the expression on his friend's face, "Derek, you haven't interacted with these creatures the way I have. They are stupid. Like, ridiculously stupid, so stupid I don't know how they remember to breathe stupid. They aren't going to pay any attention to one more demon wandering in looking for something. Trust me on this, please."

Derek was by no means totally convinced, but he relented, for the time being. "Alright," he said with a sigh, cringing at how Stiles lit up with enthusiasm at the simple word, "but we still need to be as careful as possible. I don't want you to take any unnecessary risks."

"Don't worry, my sentimentalwolf. I'll be careful, I promise," he grinned up at the older man, a look that Derek had missed over the months of his absence more than most.

"Ok," he replied, after a moment, "what do we need to do first?"

Stiles answered by grabbing ahold of Derek's hand once more and dragging him off with far more strength than should be possible for his slight frame. "There's an alcove over here, just under the ridge we walked up. We can hide out in it while we watch the demons without being very noticeable." By the time he had finished speaking, they had reached the alcove in question. It was a small, simple outcropping in the rock wall directly below the hill they had been standing on, off of a narrow path Derek hadn't noticed at first that descended steeply down into the abyss below. It was a good hiding place, and so Derek wordlessly took up a defensive position inside it while Stiles remained far more relaxed and aloof than anyone had a right to be when surrounded by lava rivers and flying demons and pits that must lead to the belly of the underworld.

The two sat in relative silence for several hours. Now that they had settled into the pit itself, the place felt far more depressing than the cavern they had walked down to reach this point. It took Derek a few seconds to realize that it was because the emotions in the air had shifted, the whole abyss radiating fear, sadness, loneliness, and depression. It was intense. As they continued to sit, watching the demons occasionally pass by, Derek noticed that it must be having an affect on Stiles as well, because the human boy had never been so quiet or still in all the time Derek had known him, alive or dead.

"There," Stiles said, breaking the silence, and tension, that had built over the past six hours. He pointed at an innocuous door near the top of the cliff off to their right about a quarter of the way around the cavern. "I've seen seven demons enter that door and five leave. It's the only one that has had that much traffic."

"I agree," Derek said. In truth, he'd noticed that this must be the door they needed about two hours earlier, but had been reluctant to say anything in hopes of putting off the next part of the plan.

"Ok, you stay here." Stiles began as he got up and stretched his limbs slightly. "I'll go back to the ravine where we talked to Lydia and transform into the demon, that way I can make sure no one sees me or knows that you are still here. Then it should be easy to get in there and find out where Scott is. Once I know, I'll come back here and get you."

"I'm still not ok with this plan," Derek replied, "I don't like you going in there alone. It feels wrong."

"Of course it feels wrong, sillywolf; we're in Hell, basically, everything here is wrong," Stiles shook his head in exasperation before laying a hand gently on Derek's shoulder. "I'll be fine. The demons won't know I'm different, I guarantee it. Just, try and relax a bit. I'll be back soon." With that, Stiles took off back up the hill before Derek could respond.

If Derek thought being on stakeout with a silent Stiles was bad, waiting alone in the alcove for him to return was ten times worse. A few minutes after Stiles had left, a demon had flown directly over his hiding place, flapping around somewhat erratically. That must be Stiles, Derek thought, unsure if he should be amused by the sight of a terrifying creature flailing about or worried that the others would notice and suspect something. Definitely the latter. He watched the demon fly over to the door he and Stiles guessed must be the entrance to their lair, and let out a small sigh as the creature went inside. Time seemed to drag on agonizingly slowly after that. Derek had no way of knowing what was happening inside. Each time a demon entered through that door he got that much more nervous, and each time one left he watched with trepidation trying to determine if it was Stiles or not.

Several more hours passed by. If Derek had been concerned earlier, he was an inch from panicking now. I should have gone with him, this is far too dangerous for him to be on his own, even if he can transform into one of those demons. Maybe I should try to take over one as well, that way I can blend in and see what's happening and make sure Stiles is alright. What is taking so long? It can't be that challenging to find where one person is being kept. What if we were wrong, and that isn't the record room? What if the demons are smarter than Stiles thinks and they realized he isn't actually one of them? How will I even tell if something is wrong? I can't contact Lydia, I can't find Scott on my own, I have no idea where the others are. What am I supposed to do without Stiles?

"Hey Wolfman, did you miss me?" Stiles said, climbing back into the alcove and stopping the runaway train of thought in Derek's mind.

"Stiles!" he exclaimed, jumping slightly at the sudden reappearance but visibly relaxing seeing him return unscathed.

"You're not going to get rid of me that easily," he replied tongue-in-cheek before settling down on the ground.

"Ha…ha," Derek said, expressionless, "did you find Scott?'

"I did," Stiles said, grinning slightly, "he's actually not that far away, assuming I interpreted their records correctly." Derek arched his eyebrows, his trademark way of saying continue. "Like I said, they're stupid creatures. It took me forever to figure out their filing system while trying not to look suspicious, or more like their lack of a filing system. Anyways, I'm about 80% sure I know where Scott is."

"Well, I guess that will have to do," Derek said, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. It felt good to banter with Stiles again, even if they were in the middle of Limbo and preparing to rescue Scott from the Suicide Pit while being surrounded by demons. And lava, can't forget the lava. "Lead the way, Stiles."

Stiles nearly jumped up to his feet, excitement growing now that they were closing in on completing step one of their rescue operation. Derek followed in a much more dignified manner, not quite as enthusiastic on the outside but probably more so than his young friend on the inside. "Watch your step," Stiles said as they returned to the narrow path that hugged the rock wall descending into the abyss, "one wrong step and it'll be the express trip to the lowest circle of Hell."

"Hey Stiles," Derek said, much quieter now that they were out in the open again, "is it possible for me to take over one of the demons the way you did? I could help out more if I had a little more power down here."

Stiles glanced back at him with a look Derek couldn't quite interpret, maybe a combination of pity and amusement, but something else also. "No," he said, turning back to watch where he placed his feet on the treacherous path, "you would need to be able to perform some of the Druid rituals. Even if I was able to teach them to you, there's no guarantee it would work. It took me weeks to subdue the demon who was guarding me, and we don't have that amount of time to work with now." Stiles paused as he pressed himself against a ledge and shuffled sideways along what remained of the path after a piece had, long ago, broken off. "I'm sorry Derek, I know you don't like taking the back seat in all this. I promise you are doing far more than you realize, and it will all be worth it in the end."

"Ok," Derek said, not entirely convinced but deciding to change tactics slightly, "then is there some way that I can stay in contact with you if we split up again? I'm not a fan of not knowing where you are or what's going on."

"Yes, actually," Stiles responded. Derek almost tripped in his surprise that the answer wasn't no. Stiles quickly grabbed his upper arm to keep him steady before continuing. "It's a little tricky, but after we get Scott and get out of this giant hole in the ground I can teach both of you."

They pressed on, descending several hundred feet into the chasm in silence. The air became more constricting the deeper they went, the scent of fear and pain and sorrow overpowering everything else. Derek did his best to focus on Stiles and the faint traces of pack he could still catch here and there off of him. As they continued their downward climb, it became the only thing keeping him from succumbing to depression himself. It obviously affected Stiles as well, though not as much as it did the werewolf.

Derek was just about ready to say they should abandon the whole thing because it was clearly meaningless when Stiles held out his hand once more to stop him. "We're here," he said solemnly, the hint of a tear glistening in his eye as he said it.

Derek stood shocked once more, something that was becoming far too regular of an occurrence for his liking. The door in question was easily recognizable now that they were up close. It was the door to Scott's bedroom in the house he and Melissa used to live in before they were forced to go on the run. Derek himself had broken this door down, or at least its real world counterpart, about a year ago. Monroe's hunters had attacked, crippling Scott with wolfsbane, chaining him to his bed, and setting the house on fire. It was a page straight out of Kate Argent's playbook, and it had enraged Derek to the point that he had almost lost all control of himself. Stiles had been there, tethering him back to reality enough for Derek and Liam to rush in and drag Scott and Melissa to safety while the rest of the pack pushed the hunters back. Derek had kicked the door down only to find Scott unconscious, barely breathing, and engulfed in flames. He tore through the shackles, not even noticing the searing heat as his own flesh burned, quickly pulling Scott off of the bed and hurdling them both out his window. Stiles had, naturally, been the one to notice what happened first, running over to them with a tattered blanket he kept in his Jeep that he used to pat out the last remnants of the fire from their bodies. They had almost lost Scott that night, Stiles breaking the speed limit several times over as he rushed their alpha to Deaton's hideout (the clinic had already been permanently closed by that point after the death threats and such). Once Scott had recovered, the pack officially decided to leave the town of Beacon Hills in favor of hiding in the Preserve.

"Are you still with me back there?" Stiles' voice called from a distance, breaking his reverie.

"What?" he spluttered, shaking his head slightly and landing back in the here-and-now reality of their situation, "Yeah, sorry, this door just brought back some memories is all."

Stiles smiled sadly in understanding, "I know what you mean." He didn't press for details the way he normally would, something that Derek was very grateful for. They stood there in silence for another minute or two, each staring at the door in question.

"So," Derek said, "do we just knock, or what?"

Stiles stared at him incredulously, "are you being serious? Or, is the stoicwolf himself actually making a joke right now? I honestly can't tell."

Derek simply smacked him upside the head in answer, "what do we do next?"

"Alright, alright, no need for violence," Stiles replied, turning back to the door. "No knocking, we just go in. I have no idea what we will find in there though. Nobody I've talked to down here has been inside one of these rooms, but they all say that whatever happens in here is the stuff nightmares are made of. So…think happy thoughts, I guess, and get ready for whatever we are about to walk into."

Derek tensed, his stomach plummeting with each statement. Nevertheless, he readied himself as best he could, refusing to show weakness or be outdone by whatever this world could throw at him. He let his fangs and claws extend slightly as Stiles reached out towards the doorknob, slowly turning it and inching the door open. Derek felt a cold wave of dread and panic sweep over him, as though the door had been holding back a flood and opening it had released it to cascade down upon him. He gritted his teeth, trying to push the raw emotions aside as he inched forward behind Stiles into the darkness that lay behind the door.

The door closed behind them of its own accord once they were inside. With it shut, the room, or whatever they were in, was plunged into total darkness, so complete that even his glowing werewolf eyes barely penetrated more than a few inches. Stiles stopped in front of him, clearly unsure of what to do. Derek took a deep breath, smelling the confusion and fear coming off of him. He pushed that aside as well, focusing his senses on the room itself. With another lungful, he caught a different familiar scent and nearly choked. It was Scott's, but not at the same time. Scott was in pain. Not physical pain, but rather emotional pain, a pain deeper than Derek had ever felt, deeper than he had ever smelled on anyone. He could tell Scott was in total despair and agony, feeling a torture so complete there was no way anything they had experienced on earth could compare.

"He's this way," Derek whispered, pressing around Stiles and grabbing his hand to lead him as he followed his alpha's smell down what felt like a long hallway. The smell of grief and anguish became stronger the further they went, so much so that it took all of Derek's willpower to keep going instead of breaking down then and there. As they progressed, a soft, bluish light began to shimmer at the end of the tunnel, just enough to make their surroundings visible in an eerie sort of way. The air was so thick with Scott's emotions that Derek was beginning to struggle to breathe again, only managing to continue on when he felt a firm, familiar hand squeeze his shoulder from behind. Now that he was sure where Scott was, Derek tried to push the smells out, instead focusing on the packmate behind him. Stiles was also clearly scared and grief-stricken, but it was a more manageable scent and Derek was able to continue on the rest of the way down the hall.

They reached the end of the hall in silence, finding the source of the faint blue light to be a translucent screen over the entire length of the doorway. It was like looking through a computer screen from the wrong side. On the other side of the door/screen was a staircase, similar to the one in the McCall house, that led down to a round rock cavern. On the floor of the cave lay Scott, writhing around in obvious pain and clawing at his eyes and ears. It looked like he may also be shouting or crying out, but no sound came from the room at all. On the opposite side of the cave, on what appeared to be a balcony attached to the wall, stood a demon, watching the young man below him with rapt attention.

Derek sensed Stiles transforming into his demon again behind him, causing him to turn around. "What are you doing!" he whispered, not wanting the demon inside to notice them.

"I have an idea," Demon-Stiles said quietly, "I just need you to trust me." The demon's voice rumbled around them, causing Derek to panic slightly and turn quickly to make sure the other hadn't heard. The demon inside never wavered, though, continuing to watch Scott without moving a muscle.

"Stiles, I hate it when you do that," Derek said, whipping back around, "and I hate it when you lead off by saying to trust you. That never ends well."

"You're probably right," Demon-Stiles sighed. In another setting it might actually be humorous, seeing an eight-foot tall demon shrug the way Stiles would. Here, though, it just came out intimidating. "But I'm reasonably sure this will work." Derek crossed his arms over his chest but remained silent, indicating that Stiles should continue. "We're going to go in, and I'm going to throw you down the stairs. Then I'll fly up to the other demon and tell him I was told to bring you here. It should confuse him, and hopefully he'll fly off to check the record room. That should buy us enough time to get Scott out of here."

"Stiles, that's a stupid plan," Derek groaned.

"Do you have a better one?" the demon retorted, adding just enough menace to his voice to make Derek afraid.

"N-n-n-no," he stuttered.

"Then let's go with mine," Demon-Stiles said, "just stay on the ground and don't draw attention to yourself while we're in there." Derek groaned again, inwardly this time, before turning around to face the blue screen in front of them. He took a deep breath, readying himself for what he was sure must be certain death, when a shove from behind sent him tumbling through the screen and down the stairs.

The first thing Derek was hit with were the sounds. The screen had been some sort of barrier blocking them, but the moment he passed through it, he could here Scott's agonizing cries and screams. Most of it was incoherent, Derek only being able to make out the occasional word like "no" or "sorry." The second thing he noticed was that the emotions he'd smelled and felt in the hallway were only a fraction of the real thing. In here it was exponentially worse, gut-wrenching. The despair and grief rolled off of their young alpha in waves. It was so nauseating that it took all of Derek's concentration to not throw up. The third thing he noticed was that the demon watching/guarding Scott was not pleased by the interruption, and, no matter how stupid Stiles claimed they were, it was not fooled by Stiles' arguments.

"What are you doing here?" it thundered from its sentry post above them.

"I was told to bring this one here," Demon-Stiles replied. Derek sneaked a glance upwards, noticing that Stiles had flown up and was now hovering in the air directly in front of the other demon, whose wings had also unfurled in agitation.

"Why?" it demanded, beginning to hover in the air slightly as well.

"I do not know," Demon-Stiles said, sounding unconcerned.

"That one does not belong here," the demon replied, pointing a clawed finger at Derek, who quickly looked away and instead turned to face Scott. That, however, was a mistake, because seeing him while also smelling and hearing him made it all so much worse.

"This is where I was told to bring him," Demon-Stiles insisted, "maybe you should go check the records if he does not belong here."

"No," the other demon nearly shouted, "I will not leave this post until my time is complete. Take that one and go yourself."

"Are you sure?" Demon-Stiles said, "I could watch them both while you go check…"

"Enough!" the demon screeched, rising into the air several feet, "you are no kakodaimones. What are you?"

"Well, so much for that idea," Demon-Stiles said with a sigh, "I guess we'll go with Plan B."

"What's plan…" Derek was cut off before he could finish his question as the two demons screeched again and lunged at one another in vicious assault. The battle was unlike anything Derek had ever seen. The demons were even more powerful than he had realized, landing punches that would easily fell a tree and scratching with claws that could eviscerate even a werewolf with a simple flick. Derek ran over to Scott, using the aerial fight as cover. He quickly grabbed the alpha's arms, prying them away from his face only to look on in horror at the gruesome sight they had created. "Scott!" Derek shouted at him, trying to snap him out of whatever was going on, "Scott! You need to wake up! Focus on my voice, come back, come on!"

Scott was oblivious to it all, not registering a single word Derek said. What am I supposed to do, he thought angrily, glaring around at his surroundings for inspiration. He tried pinching and slapping the younger wolf, but neither had any effect. He tried dragging him towards the stairs, but was interrupted by one of the demons crashing to the ground, blocking his way, while the other landed on top of him. It was impossible to tell which was which, or which was really getting the upper hand as the one on the ground quickly swiped the other's feet out from under it, freeing itself to take off into the air once more with another ungodly screech. Both demons were bleeding from various gashes at this point, something Derek found very disconcerting since both his and Belasko's claws had been unable to penetrate the demonic skin.

"Stiles!" Derek cried out at the combatants in the air. One of the demons turned to glance at him briefly before diving at the other once more. It was enough for Derek to place which one was his friend. Leaving Scott for the moment, Derek sprung into action to help, leaping up to the top of the staircase and then using the momentum to thrust himself towards the demon's balcony. He barely made it, scrambling to get ahold of the ledge and then somersaulting into it. The balcony contained some sort of control panel with a few assorted runes and circles, but Derek didn't have time to investigate right this second. He watched the battle going on in midair just above him carefully, keeping track of where Stiles was and timing his next move just right.

Demon-Stiles landed a particularly devastating blow to the other demon's midsection, stunning it enough that it dropped a few feet. It was enough. Derek leapt from the balcony onto the other demon's back, wrapping his arms around it's neck in a stranglehold.

"Get off, beast!" the demon cried out, struggling to keep itself in the air with Derek's weight constricting the movement of its wings. Its claws scraped along Derek's arms, cutting deep into the tissue and leaving gouge marks all along them. The pain was almost enough to make him lose his grip.

"Now, Stiles!" Derek cried out as the demon managed to pry one of his arms away, effectively shaking him off. Demon-Stiles wasted no time. The second the demon was free of Derek's grip, before it could react in any way, Stiles was there, plunging his own claws deep into the demon's neck. The demon wailed, gurgling as blood gushed from the wound. Derek was thrown from its back, landing in a heap on the staircase. The injured demon plummeted back to the ground, hands clutching its throat and wings crumpling at odd angles beneath its body. It struggled for another minute or so, then went still.

Demon-Stiles landed on the ground a few feet away, advancing cautiously towards the other demon. "Is it dead?" Derek asked, tentatively.

"I don't know," Demon-Stiles replied, "Can you kill something that isn't actually alive?" Derek hadn't thought about that, but he supposed it was a valid question. He watched anxiously as Stiles knelt down slightly to get a closer look at the unmoving demon on the ground. "I don't know if it's dead," he said eventually, "but it's no longer breathing, or moving. So I'm going to count that as a win."

Derek was about to retort when their attention was brought back to the other occupant of the cavern. Scott let out an ear-piercing scream, one that struck right to the core of Derek's chest. "Well, killing it didn't release Scott from whatever is going on with him," Stiles said, now slowly approaching his best friend with equal trepidation.

"The balcony," Derek called out, picking himself off the ground and hurrying over to his friends. "There's some sort of control panel up there. Maybe you can make sense of it and turn off whatever is causing this." Stiles wordlessly took off, landing gracefully inside the balcony. From this vantage point he looked exactly like the demon they had first seen up there, stoically watching the boy writhing in pain on the floor.

Demon-Stiles pressed a few things, placing his palms in different spots, experimenting with the controls as he tried to figure out how to work the thing. "Oh no!" he gasped suddenly, "this is horrible!"