Stiles had no idea how long he was down in the Argent's basement, but he was now well and truly uncomfortable. His shoulders had finally gotten past the intense pain of being forced behind his back for so long and had moved on to the numb stage; though whether that was a good thing or a bad thing he was not really sure (he was leaning toward the not so good). His knees were also starting to hurt. And his lower back. And really, just about everything had at least a dull ache. Not to mention that fact that he stank like dried sweat. Really, was it too much to ask to be kidnapped when he was walking to school or at the mall and not after he had just played a game of lacrosse 'and won, thanks for ruing that'? At least then he would have at least felt clean.

Oh, and his mouth was dry.


The pitch black darkness was suddenly shattered when a light flicked on over the bound boy's head. It was nearly blinding. Stiles blinked several times before he could even make out shapes.

"Hello Stiles," Stiles felt his insides turn to ice, "so nice to see you again. I hope your stay has been comfortable."

Stiles' eyes narrowed. He growled behind his gag. Gerard was nonplused. Instead, he looked thoughtfully at his captive, "I have to say Stiles, I didn't think it would be quite so easy to get to you, but I suppose that's what happens when you are nothing more than the pack toy." He said this as though he were talking about a sudden rainstorm cropping up on a cloudless day. Stiles stiffened.

Gerard noticed and smiled rather sadistically, "Oh, you didn't know? Well, I guess I'm not surprised, I mean, you are useful to them after all why not let you think that you are part of the pack if it gets them what they want." The psychotic old hunter paced leisurely back and forth in front of his captive. Stiles kept an eye on him. Gerard began talking again.

"Now doesn't that just make you angry? I mean, after all the work you've done for them, after all the time and effort you gave them and they don't even bother to protect you." Gerard shook his head sadly looking, for the first time, like a grizzled old grandfather who found out his son just died.

It didn't last long.

Suddenly he was right in Stiles' face.

"Doesn't that piss you off boy? Doesn't that make you want to make them pay? Doesn't that make you want to kill them? ANSWER ME!" With that, Gerard tore the tape off of Stiles' mouth, causing the boy to scream in pain, and ripped the cloth out of his mouth. Stiles coughed violently for a few seconds before the old man had him by the chin and was forcing him eye to eye, "Tell me Stiles, why should you help them now? Huh? Tell me that. Why should you help a pack that would so willingly abandon you to try and save a killer?"

Stiles swallowed a few times before he could answer, "Jackson isn't a killer, you are."

The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the room.

Stiles' head snapped to the side and his teeth sunk into his cheek. He spat the blood out. Gerard wrenched his head back.

"I wouldn't be so quick with the insults boy," he hissed, "do not forget that you are in my power now. Now you will tell me what I want to know."

Stiles knew that no matter what he said at this point he would end up getting hurt, but giving up the pack he had come to see as a second family was not an option, so he went back to his old stand-by; sarcasm, "Can't really do that since you haven't asked me what exactly you want to know." Gerard punched him again.

Then again.

And again.

"I bet you think you're funny, don't you Stiles? Well guess what? I don't." Gerard suddenly walked out of sight. Stiles, who had been left briefly stunned by the blows to his face, blinked hazily at the ground. Well, he had certainly been right about the crazy old hunter not wanting to waste any time. A low humming filled the air behind him.

Suddenly there were two sharp crack sounds.

Stiles stiffened as the eldest Argent came back into view holding what looked like a cattle prod. Gerard took the time to examine it, acting for all the world as though he wasn't about to use it on an innocent boy he had kidnapped and tied up in the basement of his son's house. "You know Stiles," he said almost conversationally now that he had calmed down slightly, "it has been so long since I've had to use this on a human." He shrugged nonchalantly as he waved the prod in Stiles' face, "I sometimes forget just how frail we are as a species, and werewolves can endure so much more pain then we."

"Ya, well," Stiles tried to keep his voice from shaking as he pushed himself farther into the pole in an effort to get away from the prod, "I guess that's what happens when you have a code to not harm humans."

Gerard looked thoughtful, "Huh. You know I think you're right about that." He shrugged, "Oh well."

And he jammed the prod into Stiles' shoulder.

"Now's the perfect time to re-learn."

Derek watched his uncle's eyes drift off into space they was they always used to when he was thinking about something important. He was just about to ask what his uncle meant by "we don't have to deal with the Kanima anymore" when Lydia spoke up.

"Look, I don't know what is going on here, but it is going to have to wait. Jackson wants all of you to meet him at the hospital; he said that Stiles' life depends on it." Her voice trailed off at the last bit and she swallowed visibly as four sets of glowing eyes snapped toward her face. She soldiered on though, "I don't know about you, but I think that this is more important than a Kanima, whatever that is, don't you?"

Peter's eyes came back into focus and he straightened up, "Yes, you are right." He turned to Derek, "We need to get Stiles back at all costs."

Derek nodded solemnly, but also looking troubled, "He is our top priority, but we still have Erica and Boyd to worry about, I doubt the Argents' will pass up an opportunity to use them against us, especially now that they have Stiles."

"What?" Issac's head snapped up, blue eyes wide with fear, "I thought you said they left."

The youngest Hale let out a sigh, "They were captured as they were trying to leave," He leveled a glare at Scott, "by Allison and Chris."

Scott immediately stiffened and made to defend his girlfriend only to be cut off be a growl form Peter, "The Argents deserve no sympathy Scott!" The younger wolf shrunk back a little under the elder's wrath, "If anything should have changed your mind about them it should be this."

"But she…"

"Did she or did she not assist in the kidnapping of three people, one of which is your supposed best friend?"

"She is just upset that she lost her mother…she"

"And that makes it okay!?"

Scott dropped his head in shame.

Peter seemed satisfied with this and allowed himself to calm down, but a satisfied smirk had settled over his features. Derek rolled his eyes at his uncle's antics, but he didn't refute what he said. Instead he turned to toward Lydia.

"Is that all Jackson said?"

The red head jumped slightly at being addressed by the once accused murderer. It was probably the first time that the Lydia Martin had been at a loss for words. All she could do was nod. Derek made a noise in his throat, "Okay, Scott, Peter, and Issac will go to the Argent's house and see if there is a way in, if Boyd and Erica are anywhere it is there. Lydia, myself, and the Sheriff will head to the hospital to see what is going on with Jackson. While it is more than likely possible that Stiles is being held in the same place as the pups, we can't make that assumption and risk his life in the off chance that we are wrong."

"Wait, we are telling the Sheriff?" Scott's face paled considerably at the thought of not only telling the Sheriff that they possibly knew something about his son being kidnapped, but also about werewolves and just how deep the spastic teen was in it.

The three wolves in the room looked at the teen. Derek had to force himself not to face palm, Peter looked disbelievingly, and Issac snorted.

Lydia looked confused, "What's wrong?"

Issac rolled his eyes, but instead of answering he reached around the corner and pulled. Only to have Sheriff Stilinski himself stumble around the corner.

If possible, Scott's eyes got ten times paler.

"Honestly Scott," Issac said distastefully, "and you call yourself a werewolf. I smelled him nearly 20 minutes ago."

If he had not been standing by the lockers, Derek was sure Scott would've fallen over in a dead faint. As it was, he look like he was about two seconds from passing out. Luckily the Sheriff seemed to notice as well for he put up his hands in mock surrender and took a small step forward. "Look, I don't know what's going on here, and I don't know what it has to do with what's been happening around town, but right now I don't care. My son is missing. My only son is missing." He made sure to stretch out the word 'only', looking each and every one of them in the eyes as he did so, "Stiles is the only thing that matters to me right now. I'm willing to look past everything I just heard and saw if it means getting my boy back alive."

Here he looked to Derek, somehow instinctively knowing that the younger of the two Hales was in charge. Derek made sure to hold the Sheriff's eyes for a few long seconds before slowly nodding. The wolf knew that once this was over he would have to tell Sheriff everything, but it was more than a fair price if it meant he could see Stiles's smiling face once again.

Chris pulled the SUV into the old abandoned flour mill and just sat there for a few minutes while he regained his thoughts. He could just drop Boyd and Eric off here. He could drop them off here, take his daughter and run. Nobody would miss them. And it wasn't like there was anything for them here anyway. Victoria was dead. Gerard had tried to corrupt Allison. And he was too weak to stop any of it. He had even been forced to kidnap his own daughter in order to protect her. Yeah, leaving was sounding like the perfect option.

A knocking on the window startled Chris out of his thoughts.

Whipping his head around to face the window his eyes met the sheepish face of Erica. He rolled it down a little.

Erica played with her fingers and looked down at her shoes, "Sorry," she mumbled, "I just wanted to see if you were going to come inside."

Chris studied her for a minute. She no longer looked like the bad ass werewolf he had known when she first turned, strutting around like she owned the world. She now looked like nothing more than a scared little child. Or a puppy. Chris let out a breath of a laugh; it looked like Stiles was right again. If they all made it out of this in one piece he would have to apologize to the boy for ever doubting him.

Shaking his head of his thoughts once more Chris climbed out of the car and made his way toward the truck only to find that it was open and his package was missing. For a moment he panicked. Then Erica laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"Boyd already took her inside."

Chris let out a sigh of relief before tensing his shoulders again are looking at the mill. He knew what he would have to face when he walked in there, but, for the life of him, he wasn't sure if he was ready.