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(4x01 - The Dark Moon )
It was unbelievable. She couldn't believe it. Willow found herself in Mexico, which certainly wasn't how she had imagined spending her summer. After Alison's funeral, they thought everything would slowly go back to normal. However, fate had other plans, and someone kidnapped Derek. After weeks of failed attempts to contact him, Lydia and Willow's Banshee intuition kicked in, and they discovered that someone had taken him. They searched his apartment and found a bullet that led them to the Carerras, so they decided to visit them in Mexico. And now, here she was, walking through the streets of Mexico with her sister and their Hispanic friend, Stiles.
Stiles tried to lighten the mood, saying,
"It's not that bad." I thought it was kinda funny, but Lydia didn't seem to share my sense of humour.
"It's not the town. It's the plan."
"What's wrong with the plan?" Stiles asked, and that is when I decided to chime in.
"Stiles, do you realize this plan might be the stupidest we've ever come up with?" I looked at him straight in the eye, but he didn't show any signs of fear.
"I'm aware it's not our best." But he still tried to think optimistically.
"We're going to die," my sister said. I nodded in agreement.
"Amen to that, sister." They walked away, with Stiles following.
"Are you guys saying that as Banshees, or you're just being pessimistic?"
"We're saying it as people who don't want to die," I didn't bother to look back at him, my mind already made up about what I was going to do. I began walking away from him and my sister towards the club we were supposed to go to, my heart pounding in my chest with every step. Meanwhile, Stiles and Lydia tried to catch up with me, their faces etched with concern and worry. They knew the dangers of walking alone at night, especially in this part of town. But I was too angry and upset to care about their warnings.
The night had fallen, casting a dark veil over the city, and we found ourselves standing outside the club's entrance. Two towering bodyguards were keeping watch. Suddenly, Lydia broke out into rapid Spanish, but I couldn't focus on her words as the air had changed. A strange feeling of unease had crept up on me, and I couldn't shake it off. Before I could gather my thoughts, Stiles grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me into the club, leaving the eerie atmosphere behind. Everyone was dancing, and you could smell the sweat, the lust, and the sex from everybody, and, for that, you didn't have to be a werewolf. Stiles led Lydia and me to the bar, where we were each handed a shot. He searched his pockets for money as someone patted our shoulders.
