A/N: Next!

Chapter Two: Take a Breath

Stiles followed Lydia down the stairs to the fourth floor. However, it wasn't the fourth floor. It was a basement. Dark, dank and smelled of black mold. He recoiled against the smell, but stared forward at Lydia. He grabbed her shoulder, which made her jump.

"Lydia! What happened? Where...are we?" he asked, blinking from his eyes watering at such a foul stench. "We...we gotta get outta here." Lydia nodded. She seemed confused, or in a daze. Like she didn't even remember running down the stairs.

Stiles walked back to the stairs, but as he walked up, the floor covered the entrance to the next level. He slammed his fists against it, nearly throwing his shoulder out. But it was no use. He turned back to Lydia, pointing past her. "There's a hallway, let's take it."

Lydia nodded quickly, swallowing harshly. "W-What usually happens to the people that...walk down the, the really l-long and creepy hallways? In the movies?"

Stiles grabbed her hand and lead the way, keeping steady feet as they entered the darkness. "They die." he said quietly. He didn't want to tell her, but it was the truth. Hallways were a death sentence.

The two walked quietly for minutes, but the walk didn't seem to end. And they couldn't turn back. There was no 'back'. Only forward. Stiles was feeling tense from the silence, so he broke it. "Why did you run down the stairs?" he asked. Lydia seemed shocked by the question.

"I thought...I heard a voice." she mumbled. Stiles looked back at her, raising his eyebrows, but turning to face forward once again.

"And what did the voice say?"

"To run."

Stiles pursed his lips, his eyes flickering around in thought. "So you just...followed it?" he didn't mean to, but it sounded a little harsh when he asked. She looked down at the ground in shame. "I just wanted so badly to get out. I guess I believed it would lead me out. But instead I just got us even more lost. But at least..."

She took in a deep breath. "...at least I got you, right? I'm not alone."

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. I wouldn't leave you."

Lydia smiled, staring off to the side. She was so lost in thought she ran into Stiles' back since he had stopped so abruptly. Lydia looked around him to see he was facing a door. An average, bedroom like door, with a silver knob.

"We walk for nearly five minutes, just so we can run into a door?" he asked. Lydia stepped around him. She could hear the voice again. A woman's voice. Telling her to go in. To go forward.

One more step forward.

Just one.

She reached out to grab the knob, but Stiles' grabbed hold of her wrist quickly, pulling her behind himself once again as he opened the door slowly, the nerve-wracking creaking sounds it made as it opened sent shivers up both their spines.

But as the door opened up completely wide, there was only another room. Stiles didn't move, but Lydia pushed past him into the room. He followed almost an inch behind her. She looked around. All white walls except for the door. She looked down. White floor. And up?

A white ceiling, with a metal grating in the center. The room was about ten foot tall, so they couldn't really reach it if they wanted to. "What is this?" Stiles asked, bending low before jumping up. He nearly got a hold onto the grating, but the tips of his fingers slipped on the cold, wet metal and he dropped back to his feet. "And why the hell is it wet?" he added.

Lydia knelt on the floor, her hand resting gently to the ground. "Stiles...the floor is wet, too. Everything is wet. But...why?"

Suddenly if on queue, the room began to fill with water slowly. But within a mere minute, it was already a few inches. Lydia panicked, running for the door. But it was sealed shut. Stiles gently pushed her aside and rammed his shoulder into it a few times. Nothing.

"Shit. Shit. Shit! We gotta get out. Now!" he screamed. "Look for clues. A way out. Anything! Look!"

Lydia searched frantically, her eyes glossy with absolute fear of drowning. Stiles pounded on the walls. The water was already to his knees, only five minutes in.

"There's gotta be a drain. How else would it drain. It would have flooded the hallway we were just in..." Stiles muttered, thinking out loud. Lydia didn't bother him. She slid her hands across the walls, trying to find anything. Stiles continued to talk to himself. "...there has to be a drain. A center do draw the water out again. The drain. Where is it?"

The water rose even faster, now to his upper chest, and near her neck. She struggled to stand in the water, but she stayed silent. "Drain...the drain...it's..."

She couldn't stay up anymore.

"Stiles!" She screamed, before falling under. He looked down and dropped under, pulling her up again. She held onto him, and they both looked into each others eyes. "I know where the drain is." he said. They both struggled to get to the center of the room, but now they were both swimming. He pushed her up until she got a hold of the metal grating.

"Hold on tight, and don't let go." he ordered. She nodded, her teeth chattering with the icy cold water covering her from head to toe. He nodded back at her, before taking in a deep breath and dropping underwater. She refused to scream his name again, but she wanted to so badly. It was burning in her throat. That name to call out.

The water was freezing, absolutely freezing. It was like going into the ocean during the coldest day of the winter. Lydia pulled herself up closer to the bars, taking in her last few breaths of air. She began to cry, but if someone saw her, they wouldn't be able to tell. Her whole body was soaked.

There was a loud bang emitting from under the water, and then it all flooded out. The door to the room had been opened once again, and the water rushed out into the hallway. Lydia released her death grip on the bars and allowed herself to be carried out into the hall. Her body washed up next to Stiles'.

She coughed a few times, before pushing herself onto her elbows, staring over at Stiles. "Good job." she giggled. He didn't respond.

She tensed up and got onto her knees hovering over him. Now that she had thought about it...he'd been under for a nearly two minutes. She rolled him into his back, slapping his cheek lightly, but he didn't stir.

Choking back a sob, she leaned forward and pressed her ear to his chest. No beat. Nothing. Her heart skipped a beat as she moved over to his mouth, but no hot breath. He stopped breathing.

He wasn't breathing.

Lydia harshly shook him. "Stiles! Wake up! Get up!"

She shook her head as she leaned down once again, seeing if he was breathing. Fearfully, her heart pounding in her ears, she overlapped her hands and began CPR. She had never actually done it, but she had read about it, and seen it a few times in movies.

She moved to breath air into his lungs. His chest rose, but nothing else happened. Lydia's hands shook as she pushed down on his chest, just over where his heart should have been beating. Her compressions weakened as she lost hope. He continued to stay unmoving.

She balled a small fist and slammed it one more time on his chest. He coughed. Lydia's eyes sparked with shock as he began to cough up water. She quickly turned him onto his side as he choked up the water which filled his lungs.

She tasted salty tears of joy as she carefully pulled him up into a hug, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, unable to move them quite yet. He was so weak, he was like a delicate rag doll in her arms. But she pulled him close, relaxing as he felt his pounding heart, beating a little too fast, against her chest.

His head moved slightly, but her fingers gingerly tangled with his used-to-be-spiky wet hair, and she smiled. "You're back." she cooed.

"I'm back..." he said quietly, just above a whisper.

A/N: KFALKFJAL;KFD not calm...

Notice how I took Dylan's greatest fear of drowning and put it into a story...eh? I'm a horrible person...