Sorry this took so long to write. I've been super busy, and the story deserved more time than it got but here's the next chapter. There isn't much action because I wanted to focus on the flashback, plus it's supper short. I hope you enjoy anyway!

Scott McCall cannot recall a time when he was more terrified than he is right now. And that's saying something because he's done some pretty scary shit.

He isn't scared because he's running towards an ominous sound through underground tunnels. No, he's done that before. He's also not afraid of the monsters that surely lie in wait at the destination they are striving to reach. Scott has faced down many a creature, always coming out victorious in the end. No, Scott McCall, true alpha, fearless leader, is terrified of only one thing: losing his best friend.

Scott can sense Malia and Lydia close behind him, their footsteps echoing as they run, none of them caring that they don't have a plan.

"Stiles!" he yells desperately. It's irrational, the Horsemen could easily hear him, but there's no room for rationality in Scott's brain. He has but one thought: I have to save him, just like he saved me.

The last time Scott McCall saw his best friend, Stiles knocked him out.

They had been making a plan to lure the Horsemen away from Stiles, fighting about how stupid and pointless the plan was, when suddenly, Stiles stopped arguing.

"Do you hear that?" he asked, his eyes going wide. Scott immediately tuned into his werewolf senses, listening for what Stiles had heard.

"No, I don't hear anything," he finally admitted, confused. Stiles still had a terrified look on his face. He shook his head furiously and backed up.

"No, no this can't be happening!" Stiles tripped over the chair in Scott's room, landing clumsily on the floor. Scott approached his friend, concerned about this sound he was hearing.

"Stiles, it's okay," Scott assured him. He attempted to help Stiles up, but Stiles batted his hand away.

"No! Scott, you've gotta get out of here!" Stiles' eyes hopped from one place to another, seemingly unable to rest.

"Stiles, calm down," Scott commanded. But Stiles continued to breath heavily, his body scrambling around the room as his eyes had a second before. Then Stiles' gaze fell on Scott and he put his hands on Scott's shoulders. Scott will never forget the look his best friend gave him just then, the kind of defeated, destroyed look of someone who knew they were too far gone for anyone to save them.

Stiles said, with an eerie calmness, as he looked into Scott's eyes, "They're coming."

Just as his words came out, Scott heard a large crash from the first floor of his house. Then Stiles was pushing him, frantically searching for a way to get Scott as far from him as possible. Scott stopped him.

"We're not letting them take you!"

"They won't," Stiles assured him. "I'll go to the tunnels, remember? That was always the plan." He grimaced, because he knew, just as Scott knew, that the tunnels wouldn't protect him forever.

"I can fight them," Scott announced desperately. Stiles shook his head.

"Not without looking at them. And once you do, you're fate is the same as mine." They huddled behind Scott's door.

"I don't care!" Scott whisper-yelled, unable to bear the thought of losing his best friend.

"I do," Stiles replied. "And besides," Stiles grinned, "who's gonna save me if you're captured, too?" Scott shook his head once again, still not okay with Stiles giving himself up.

"I'm not going to just leave or hide and let them take you," he said. Stiles sighed.

"Then you leave me no choice," he declared, and in the blink of an eye, he brought a heavy metal object to Scott's head, hard, and Scott fell to the floor. The last thing he remembers was the soft whisper of Stiles' voice in his ear, saying three, simple, yet powerful words.

"Forgive me, brother."

As Scott runs through the tunnels, he can't help but realize that Stiles might just be the bravest person he's ever known. Sure, he's an alpha werewolf who's faced unimaginable horrors, but he's always had supernatural powers and forces on his side. Stiles has faced the exact same things he has, willingly, in order to save his friends, and he has none of the abilities they have. Even Lydia has a few powers she can use. Stiles has only his intellect. There's something endlessly beautiful to Scott about that kind of courageous loyalty.

He only hopes he can somehow channel Stiles' bravery right now, to repay the debt he surely owes his friend, his brother.

He has a feeling he will need every ounce of this borrowed bravery to face the Horsemen.