Fix You {Liam Dunbar #1}

{1} IT'S PROGRESS

Isabelle Argent, Lydia Martin, and Stiles Stilinski walked side by side down the fairly busy dirt road, all looking incredibly out of place and uncomfortable.

It seemed like everybody else crowding the street could sense their nerves, too, as they were getting a lot of suspicious glances. It was fairly obvious they didn't belong in Mexico.

They had actually come from Beacon Hills, California, a town filled to the brim with werewolves and banshees and all sorts of supernatural creatures.

One of these creatures was the reason the three of them were so far from home and possibly walking into a deathtrap.

"This is the place you think Derek is?" Isabelle broke the silence, her brown eyes darting between her friends. Stiles nodded, looking at Lydia and Isabelle, who both had nervous looks in their eyes.

"This isn't so bad..." he finally said. Isabelle took in her surroundings and raised her eyebrows in disbelief. This was very bad.

"It's not the town," Lydia shook her head. "It's the plan."

"What's wrong with the plan?" Stiles asked. He quickly moved out of the way as a sketchy man riding a motorcycle nearly ran him over, and Isabelle gave him a pointed look. Lydia scoffed in exasperation.

"Stiles, this could be the stupidest plan we've ever come up with. You're aware of that, right?"

"And we come up with a lot of stupid plans," Isabelle added.

"I'm aware it's not our best..." Stiles scratched the back of his neck, looking less confident.

"We're going to die," Lydia added. Isabelle winced.

"Are you saying that as a banshee, or are you just being pessimistic?" Stiles frowned.

"I'm saying it as a person who doesn't want to die," Lydia glanced at him with a frown.

Isabelle continued moving her eyes up and down the street, making sure they were safe...and also that they were going the right direction, as she was apparently the only one out of all of them who had cared to memorize the map that showed the place they were trying to get to.

"Okay, well would you mind restricting any talk of death to actual banshee predictions?" Stiles requested.

"This plan is stupid and we're going to die," Lydia sarcastically told the boy.

"Oh, thank you," he told her, just as sarcastically. Lydia hummed in response and turned her focus to Isabelle, making sure the younger girl was still following.

Isabelle was only a grade below them all, but she was still fifteen (for two more weeks at least), and Lydia often felt protective over her...especially after Allison died nearly three months ago.

Allison and Isabelle Argent were as close as two sisters could be. If they didn't have the year-and-a-half age gap between them, one might think they were twins. Their family had moved around a lot before having to settle in Beacon Hills, so they were each other's best friends everywhere they went.

And after moving to Beacon Hills, they soon learned about the supernatural world that they had been shielded from their entire lives. The Argents were a family of hunters, and the two of them quickly found themselves sucked into the family business, which was only bearable because they were together.

They were together when they watched their aunt's throat get clawed out by an alpha werewolf, and they were together when they learned that their mother had killed herself after getting the werewolf bite. The only thing they grew to rely on was themselves, so it nearly destroyed Isabelle when Allison was killed, too.