Chapter Text
It was the middle of the night when Sheriff called Scott.
"Can you please tell Stiles that he needs to text me when he plans on spending the night at your house and that he needs to answer his phone when I call?" He hadn't even waited for Scott to answer when he's said it.
"Sheriff, Stiles went home at 9:00."
"Since when does he leave your house that early?"
"Since you told him about the recent murders by that group of people that aren't werewolf related."
"It's called a gang, Scott. Yeah we just got one in custody this morning."
"It just sounds weird saying gang when they look like ordinary- wait Sheriff, we're getting off track. You said Stiles isn't home and he left my house 4 hours ago."
"Shit."
Within 20 minutes, Scott had Derek, Cora, Isaac, Boyd, Melissa, Deaton, and Sheriff standing downstairs around the kitchen, all tense and worried.
"I got a call on my way here. Un-manned vehicle left on the side of the road. It was Stiles' jeep. The first call was around 10:00 pm but the station thought it was broken down until another deputy saw it on his night shift and recognized it."
"Sheriff," John looked up at Derek with creased brows, "If it really was the Alphas that took him, they won't do anything to physically harm Stiles. At most they're using him as a bargaining chip. Deaton, is there any way you can talk with your sister to arrange a meeting with the Alphas? Stiles is human and isn't to be brought into these matters."
"Well maybe you should have thought about that before he became pack an-"
"John," Melissa placed a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Yelling won't find Stiles. We need to keep calm about it all if we want to keep our heads straight." Boyd and Isaac shifted uncomfortably behind everyone, still not use to Stiles' dad knowing about them- or his angry outbursts. There was a small nod from the Sheriff.
“I’m not actually sure if my sister is the emissary to the Alpha Pack, but I can try. Although, even if that is the case, they haven’t bothered to make any contact with us. If Stiles is being held as a simple bargaining chip, he is most likely being held for a later date.”
“I can’t just let-" John let out an exasperated breath as his phone rang. “That’s the ring for the people from the station. I need to take this.”
“Hello?”
“Sheriff, you’re needed down at the hospital.”
“At the hospital?”
Behind him, everyone tensed.
By 1:48 am, Sheriff was marching down the hall of a hospital. Few people occupied the halls, mostly just doctors and nurses on the night shift. When he turned into the hospital room he’d been directed to, his worried features stayed.
“Hopson, what happened?” The officer on the bed with gauze around his head turned away from another officer and frowned.
“It was the gang.” Hopson held up some small pieces of something and-
“Are those pictures?” Hopson nodded and handed them over to Sheriff. Slowly he looked at the small Polaroid pictures. “How many are there?”
“Seventeen… and I would recommend skipping to the last on the back. There’s a note.”
“Was it Stiles?”
“No. It was one of my officers. He was jumped by some of the gang members.”
“You don’t sound okay, there’s something else isn’t there?”
“Scott, there isn’t anything you guys can do to find Stiles. It’s a police matter now.”
“What?” The chatter on Scott’s end of the line began. “Why? Did you get them involved?”
“Of course I didn’t. It’s just that— Jesus. It’s not the Alpha Pack that has Stiles. It’s the gang we’ve been after. They made me an offer; Stiles for their guy that we have.”
“Oh my god, oh my g- John?” In the background, Scott’s numerous curse words flew and Melissa was now talking. “What do we do now?”
“You guys can’t do anything, not without it being suspicious. The station is calling in SWAT because we aren’t sure how many there are or what kind of weapons we’re dealing with. We’re already getting a trace on Stiles’ cell and hopefully we can track exactly where he is before they find out he has it or destroy it.”
“John-“
“You didn’t see the pictures, Melissa. He’s not- he won’t be okay.”
“Pictures?”
“I have to go. I’m needed at the station. I need to find my son.”
Stiles watched with heavy breaths as two men paced around in front of him. Three more sat on couches on the other side of the room, watching TV. For the moment, he was actually okay with this, a few moments ago he wasn’t.
“How long do you think until the Sheriff contacts us about the trade?” One of the pacing men looked over at Stiles’ condition.
“If he’s seen those photos already, not long.” A nefarious grin spread across his face and shit. They’d sent his dad photos of him tied up and beaten and—
“Pretty boy!” Stiles looked up as if to ask what the hell do you want. “Hey, don’t give me that look alright?” A smack accompanied the words and Stiles really didn’t like this moment anymore. He nodded, only causing the pounding in his head to continue. “Good, now we need to move you. Can you walk?” Stiles’ shook his head. “Alright, DC, come cut this shit off him and take him to the upstairs closet. Tie him up again but with the rope, the twine has already cut into his wrists and that must be a bitch.” The man laughed again while ‘DC’ cut the twine trapping his arms behind him and ankles to the legs of the chair. At this point, though, Stiles couldn’t even feel his hands or feet due to lack of circulation.
“There’s got to be something we can do.”
“Scott, you hear Sheriff. If we get involved, yes it’d be safest and fastest, but that just risks us being exposed and raising suspicion. We don’t need that attention.” There was a small sigh from the other side of the room coming from Boyd. Even though he didn’t admit it, Stiles was pack and it was pretty stressful to deal with knowing he couldn’t do anything to help. More unlikely to show their feelings toward this was Derek and whether he admitted it or not, it was obviously bugging him too.