Chapter Text
Derek was not too pleased that he was currently handcuffed to a cold, metal chair in what seemed to be a disused factory. Chains hung from the ceiling at many different lengths, conveyor belts reached across the large space and there were remains of a product that was being made here were scattered on the floor in various stages of decay. The smell of rotten meat hung heavy in the air, confusing his senses and making it difficult for Derek to tell what was going on around him in the darkness. Growling, the Alpha strained against his bonds. Pulling at the handcuffs restraining his hands, staring daggers at anything and everything that dared come near him.
"COME ON THEN! Come and electrify me then! Come on! Come make my life a living hell for all I care!" The werewolf howled into the darkness, red eyes glowing as he tried to search for anyone - anything that could help him get out of this place. Sweat trickled down his temple as he strained his muscles against the cuffs. Anger pulsed through his veins, anger that he had let his guard down long enough to be taken like that, anger at these people, probably hunters, had the nerve to take him from his home. There was an underlying feeling of fear at what these people would do to him, despite his healing, he still felt the pain that a normal person would feel. Even though he still felt pain, he wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that they were getting to him - he had been through enough kidnappings to know that that only made his situation worse.
"You've been a naughty little puppy, Mister Hale!" An all too enthusiastic and familiar voice rings out through the thick atmosphere of the factory floor. "We are here to teach you a valuable lesson!" The voice taunts menacingly. All of a sudden, there's a blinding light all round the Alpha, temporarily blinding him. As his eye sight slowly begins to come back to him, Derek barely has any time to collect himself before there is a n explosion of pain in his temple. It feels like someone had hit him around the head with a baseball bat like the one Stiles carries around. Pain shoots through his head, burning through his skull. He screamed out, barely able to control himself from giving his kidnappers any sign of pain.
"Oh, Derek. We are going to have so much fun together, now aren't we?"
This wasn't good.
Panic coursed through every part of Stiles' body as he struggled to process the obvious events that had happened here. Staying in control of his breathing had completely gone out of the window as he searched the empty loft for what must have been the fifth time now. Feeling dizzy, he realised that Derek hadn't just run off on one of his weekly disappearances. Suffocating weight crushed down on his chest as he spun around, trying to make sense of the devastated flat. There was a huge dent in one of the many stone pillars, the table that was a constant at the end of the room was nothing more than a pile of splinters now, the sofa to the left of the room looked about ready to fall apart and there was blood everywhere.
"T-They...He isn't - I - Derek? Scott...He's gonna... They're not... No..." He can't think straight, panic, fear and dread tighten inside his chest; making it impossible to breath normally, let alone talk sense. They can't have taken Derek. They just can't have. It doesn't make sense. Struggling to concentrate on one thing, Stiles collapses against one of the pillars, trying his best to control his breathing. The whirlwind of emotions mingled together with the thought of what could be happening to the Alpha, racing through his mind, not once stopping to consider the fact that this could just be a misunderstanding. Maybe he had just gotten into a fight with someone? He does that a lot, but if that was the case, then where was the body? Or bodies? It wasn't like Derek to get into a fight and not leave behind at least one body. Unless he was the one who had ended up as a dead body. Stiles screws his eyes shut, squeezing his head between his shaking hands as he tries to block out the images of Derek being beaten to a bloody pulp on the floor in front of him.
"Stiles...?" A worried voice makes its way through his thoughts. It was Isaac. His eyes filled with worry. He didn't seem to be as worried about Derek was Stiles was, he looked more worried about the fact that Stiles was in the midst's of a devastated loft, struggling to breath normally. He could probably smell what had happened here.
"Isacc...? Der-Derek... He's... He's not.... They haven't?" Understanding filled the other boys eyes. He knew what Stiles was trying to say.
"Stiles... Derek... He's-He's not here anymore. He's been taken somewhere. We are going to find him. You have to stay calm. You need to take deep breaths." Isaac spoke as slowly as he could to Stiles, gripping his shoulders firmly. His face level with Stiles', making sure he was looking at him. A small smile appears on his face as he sees the shorter boy take slightly slower, deeper breaths. He seems to visibly calm down. "That's it. Feeling better now? We are going to find him. But we can't do that unless you calm down and help me find out what happened here. Can you do that?"
Stiles nods, slowly, still feeling dizzy and sick - but able to think straight now. If Isaac was going to help him, they were going to find Derek. Stiles was going to find Derek. For all the times that it had been Stiles taken from his home and Derek had fought through hoards and hoards of bad guys to get to him. Stiles was going to do the same for Derek.