After I saw the season finale I couldn't help but feel annoyed with how everything went down, especially the kidnapping of Stiles, the abandoning of Erica and Boyd, and the all-around shitty-ness of Derek's Alpha-ness.

So, here is a little fic on how I think it should have happened. With a little bit of episode 11 in there.

5 constructive reviews gets you a new chapter ;P

Derek snarled angrily as the blood of his pack mates filled his nostrils. Their pain, their fear, it permeated the area like a thick fog. He growled low in his throat. He wanted to be mad at his pups, really he did, after all he had warned them. He had warned them of the dangers of leaving, of being alone without an Alpha to guide them, of following a random wolf's howl without knowing who or what it was. But they hadn't listened and that had been his fault.

If he had been a better Alpha he could have protected them better, could have convinced them to stay. If he had been a better Alpha he wouldn't have changed a pack of teenagers who had enough problems collectively to fill the Grand Canyon. Had he not been so overpowered with being the Alpha he would have turned people who knew he could handle it, who he knew were ready. But he didn't. He didn't and they had panicked and now the fucking Argents had them.

And that was his fault.

But he would be damned if he wasn't going to fix it.

With a roar of rage he set out. Derek would not make the same mistake twice but he couldn't do it alone. He needed help and he was going to get it even if he had to drag Scott kicking and screaming into Argent's lair.

After all, it may have been his fault that his pups were not trained properly, but it had been Scott's girlfriend, it had been Allison fucking Argent, who had taken them.

And that was on Scott.

As he ran through the woods Derek could feel the presence of his uncle beside him.

Derek honestly didn't know how it happened, but somehow his wolf had taken his uncle on as part of his pack even though he wanted nothing to do with the man that had murdered his own niece in cold blood. He supposed there was a residual connection there somewhere that his wolf remembered. At the moment though he really didn't care, it simply meant more help in finding his missing pack mates.

He glanced to the side to look at the man he had once respected. Something was different about him. Not that he was even close to the Peter he used to know, but this was different. When Peter had been the Alpha he had been two steps away from being a full fledged wolf. Now that the Alpha was out of his uncle he seemed more like the man that he had been when Derek was growing up. Just with more jagged edges.

Peter's now amber eyes connected with his and he nodded.

Derek's own blood red ones flashed before turning forward again.

They were almost at the main road now.

All of a sudden screams filled the night.

Derek and Peter snarled simultaneously, both instinctively knowing where the fear filled sounds were coming from.

Putting on an extra burst of speed Derek speed toward the school.

The lights came back on just as he skidded to a stop behind the bleachers. More screams sounded as Jackson's body was illuminated in the light. The acrid sent of blood filled the air along with the unmistakable biting sent of panic as the players on the field rushed to circle their fallen co-captain. Derek and his uncle stayed by the bleachers just out of sight. The Alpha snarled a little when he spotted Issac standing with Scott. His wolf bristled at the sight of his Omega so comfortable with another Alpha, and one that was working with Gerard at that, but he didn't make a move.

It was yet another testament to how much of a failure he was.

A firm hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"Look at his hands." Scott's words floated from the field.

"He did it to himself?" Issac asked incredulously.

Derek raised an eyebrow flashing his uncle a look of confusion. Peter looked just as surprised as his nephew. Derek turned his eyes back to the field just as the Sheriff rushed up. For a moment he surveyed the scene with the eyes of an officer. Suddenly he paused. The hand on Derek's shoulder squeezed again; only this time it wasn't in comfort. Derek felt his heart clench.

His eyes began darting around the field in a desperate attempt to find who he instinctively knew he wouldn't. He barely heard the Sheriff's question of where his son was.

Anger rose up inside of him like a tidal wave. Peter let out a feral growl next to him. From the field Issac let out a whine of pain so sharp that a few of the players closest to him turned to look at him. Scott had begun to shake. Turning slowly the younger Alpha's eyes locked on Derek's.

They didn't need words.


Stiles struggled fruitlessly against the ropes on his writs but they held fast. He tried to call for help but that was even more useless considering he had to get his voice around the balled up rag that had been shoved in his mouth as well as the duct tape over his lips. He still tried though. The hands around his arms tightened to keep him still as their owners dragged him down the hallway of the Argent's house toward a door that he instinctively knew led to the basement.

Struggling harder Stiles whipped his body side to side in an attempt to break out of his captors' grip and dug his heels into the carpeted floor.

Both men just growled angrily, practically lifting him off the floor as they pulled him on.

"MMMMPH! MMMMPH MMMMMM!" Stiles shouted through the gag hoping that at least Chris would hear him. If there was any hunter out there that could be considered "good" then Chris was it. He knew that the hunter would never actively put the human in danger, it went against his code.

The hunter gripping his right arm jerked him violently, "Shut the fuck up you little shit and quite struggling. I would like to be rid of you sometime today so just be a good boy and come on." He snarled the last part out practically ripping Stiles arm off with a final jerk. They were right in front of the door now.

Stiles leveled a glare at the man. If he could speak he would have shouted "Are you kidding me? Have you seen horror movies? The basement is where people go to die! There is no way in hell I'm going willingly down there!" He settled instead for giving the man a sharp kick to the shin. The hunter (who he had taken to calling Righty) swore angrily, wrenched open the door, and made to throw him down the stairs only to be thwarted by Lefty (his left arm's captor).

"Gerard wants him alive." His said simply.

Righty snarled again but resumed his position of manhandling the teen into what was soon to be his tomb.