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Mentions of creepy as fuck sexual behavior crops up (not nearly as much as it will in the next chapter) from Stiles' abductor. It's not quite as graphic as it will get so probably won't be as freaky but if it's a trigger for you, I have marked it out with THREE ASTERISKS at the beginning of the section to the END so if you see *** then STOP and then scroll till you hit *** again! I WILL REPEAT THIS WAY OF WARNING next chapter when it gets freakier.

It was a testament to the amount of stress that a police officer undergoes in Beacon Hills that Sheriff Stilinski was calmly ordering the pack to gather around, assemble at Stiles' house only minutes after the shocked silence following Erica's panicked announcement.

"Scott, pull yourself together dammit and be prepared to tell the pack what happened," the Sheriff snapped as he strode towards the door, ready to open it for the first to come. Lydia was already on her way and Jackson had said that he would pick up Boyd and Isaac from the library. Erica was still on the line with Allison, reciting every minute detail she remembered from the very start of her shopping trip.

"He said that he had to relieve his body of 'that yellow liquid'! I glared at him oh god Allison, I was mean to him and now he's gone and what if he's--what if I can't ever apologize--and he's so--I can't--"

"Breathe! Erica, breathe you're hyperventilating, calm down and focus on driving. I know you have me on speaker but panicking while driving is still dangerous. You need to be in one piece to rip the guy who kidnapped

Stiles into shreds, okay?" Allison calmly but firmly managed to talk Erica down and spent a few more minutes talking before Erica hung up when she could see the house. Under her breath she muttered to Scott, "I didn't know werewolves could hyperventilate?"

"It's probably more psychosomatic for Erica," a feminine voice asserted before Scott could try to stumble his way through an explanation. Lydia smiled tightly at Scott before she sat down on the couch next to Allison and picked up her hand--gripping tight enough that Allison winced. "What do we know about the bastard that kidnapped Stiles?" she asked Scott.

"Well for one, we don't really know who kidnapped him," Scott said, "We just know that he's gone--taken--and that the Sheriff's ex-deputy is a wanted, homophobic, serial killer."

Lydia breathed in deeply through her nose and nodded before letting the breath go. "I see."

Allison looked like she was about to say something but Erica flew in before she could.

"I--!" she barely started before a loud smack could be heard. The sound resounded, almost echoed in the utter silence that followed. Erica looked stunned and raised a hand slowly to touch her face, already the blood was rushing there and a bright red handprint was forming across her cheek.

"You. Fucking. Bitch." Lydia hissed, furious where she had been calmly quiet just moments before. "What were you thinking?!"

"I-I didn't--" Erica stuttered in the face of Lydia's fury.

“Exactly. You weren’t thinking. He’s basically in his mid second, almost third trimester of pregnancy and you just left him alone?! Derek’s gone, somewhere in the town probably possessed by a lunatic and you just decided that you’d go off and let Stiles--”

“Enough!” Scott stepped in between the two girls. “That’s enough,” he repeated softly, waiting until both girls made eye contact before continuing. “Stiles is somewhere out there and yes, he’s basically third trimester for someone carrying wolf pups, according to Deaton from his last check-up. WE need to organize search parties and figure out where he could possibly be. You guys need to pull yourselves together and start helping.”

Lydia nodded stiffly and turned to stalk out of the room. She didn’t see Erica scrub roughly at her face to get rid of tears, nor did she see the way Erica had basically shrunk back into her pre-bite slouch. The confident, newly happy Erica was hidden completely by the ordeal of the day.

“Erica,” Allison reached out a hand gently to touch her arm, “Help me go get Danny and see if he can get a read on Stiles’ cellphone, okay?”

Erica barely responded, listlessly following after Allison when she was gently led out the room.

Scott sighed and ran a hand across his face in an effort to clear his mind before he too followed the rest out the door to see if there was anything that could be done. Somehow, he doubted that Stiles’ cellphone would turn up anywhere useful.



“Der-Scott!” shouted Stiles as he came around again. His head spun viciously feeling as if someone had stuck him on a spinning roller coaster and just hit the loop button. He groaned in pain and tried to slowly open his eyes and take in the surroundings. The last thing he remembered was...the bathroom? So why was he only wearing boxers then?

Opening his eyes he was taken aback by the scene that met his eyes. It was his bedroom--but also not his bedroom. The shape of it was his bedroom, the bed, the desk, the positioning of the closet...except everything personal was gone. It was like the shell of his bedroom, really. Confused and starting to feel scared, he tried to sit up and found that he couldn’t, his wrists and upper arms were restrained by (what the fuck) handles built into the mattress. They were soft but coarse, like the handles on most mattresses on the sides that were meant for dragging them places. He tugged and found that the were securely sewn in and a further evaluation of his body found that his ankles were similarly restrained.

It was like a freaky sex dream gone horribly wrong.

“Dad?” he whispered, hoping against hope that this was just some badly designed joke by his pack mates in a bizarre effort to keep him in bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy.

“Ah, Stiles, you’re awake!” a familiar voice trilled (like a bird) lightly across the room from a doorway that must’ve been purposely positioned out of Stiles’ view.

“Deputy Jake?” Stiles asked incredulously.

Ex-deputy Jake, Stiles. The ‘ex’ is very important.” He chuckled as if he ere correcting a small child on a simple addition problem. “After all, it is the reason you’re here.”

“What?” Stiles stared at the ex-deputy police officer.

“Well, indirectly the reason, really.” He chuckled (again, but this time--lighter and much more terrifying for the cheerfulness infused in it), “See, I originally worked in the NYPD. It was rather prestigious, you know?” He paused as if waiting for Stiles to agree but continued when Stiles remained silent. “I worked under a conservative head and he and I agreed in everything conservative except for gay rights. I believe I was very deeply in the closet at that point and so whenever he said anything derogatory, I naturally felt terrible--but didn’t know why.”

Stiles was now thoroughly confused as to what was going on.

“And then, one day, I was in a club after work and saw my superior officer grinding up against a man. I--I’m not quite sure what I thought, but I guess I felt relief. Like my inner moral compass though that if my boss was gay, or at least bi, I was okay to like men as well. So I started going to gay clubs. I picked up some men and it was fine.” He paused then to check if Stiles was still listening. Once he was satisfied that Stiles was, he picked the story back up again. “Until the day we were in the same club and my superior officer took me home. He made sweet, sweet love to me. He murmured niceties about how lovely I looked, how tight I I was just made for him.”

Stiles felt vaguely disturbed by the dreamy expression on the man’s face.

“He started by rubbing a finger gently around my hole, god it felt so good. Then he just teased me, he kept making me suck his fingers so that they were nice and slick and then he’d just barely insert a finger, it was such torture but such wonderful torture. It felt like ages before he finally went deeper and another era before two fingers touched my insides.”

“Stop.” Stiles said, not wanting to hear Jake reminisce a sexual memory, “I really don’t--”

Jake stuffed a nearby hand towel into Stiles’ mouth and waited for Stiles to stop trying to make a noise around it and adapt to the blockade by breathing shallowly from his nose.



Derek howled in fury, anger, fear? sorrow hurt confused love family pack kill.

His captor simply laughed as they strode into Sheriff Stilinski’s house and settled down to wait.



“Stiles, it’s a story that has great influence on your situation. You should hear this.” He patted Stiles’ head and then continued. “Those two fingers were amazing, god, I nearly came from just that. And then he went faster all of a sudden--I was so relieved. He didn’t do what I wanted him to do though. He got off of me and got a vibrator. A vibrator! When all I wanted was his dick inside of me.” He laughed, shaking his head as if he had been so naive to think such a thing at the time. “But the vibrator felt so good. He managed to focus it directly on my prostate. I bucked and writhed but he was so strong, he held me down. After I was completely dry, he jerked off on me and then left me there. I...I was so confused.” Jake lifted his hand and stroked a finger gently down Stiles’ calf.

Stiles stared at Jake, a terrifying thought pushing its way into his mind, unable to move his leg away.

“The next day he acted as if nothing had changed. But that night, he dragged me into his car and then drove us to his house again. He fucked my mouth this time. I’d never been great at deep-throating but he didn’t care. He just grabbed my hair and tilted my head back and just...thrust. It was so exhilarating, that lack of control. He made sure I didn’t bite him by holding a hand to my throat. I thought it was to feel his cock thrust in but the first time I accidentally uncovered a tooth, he squeezed so hard. I gasped and choked but he continued. I had no choice but to adapt, to learn.” Jake still had the crazy, dreamy expression but his hand hand drifted from Stiles’ calf to his thigh.

“It continued, this pattern of normalcy during the day and crazy, amazing sex at night. He’d do everything to me. Around the fourth day or so, he just snapped me into cuffs and just went for it. He used my body and I happily gave it to him. Until.” Jake’s face turned ugly, a terrible, mean expression morphed his once generically handsome face into a monstrous thing. “Until they found that I had been evading taxes and fired me. He stopped making love to me. He stopped associating with me. So I had to get his attention, you see?” Jake had turned his face towards Stiles, an earnest, begging to be understood look upon his face.

Stiles shook his head, so disgusted that he was. Jake rolled his eyes.

“You’ll see, Stiles, I’ll make you see. I decided that jealously was the way to go. I’d learned plenty from my lover, so I decided I would use it on others. I found someone at a club and brought him home. He’d told me he was gay early on that night. I locked him into the restraints that I had and I couldn’t understand why he struggled--but he did. So I did what my lover did the first night in the hopes that this new man would calm down. He didn’t.” Jake looked absolutely bewildered. “He didn’t! So I tried the second night’s activities. He cried, you know? When I was squeezing his throat, tears dripped. But he fell asleep after that so I snuggled down with him.” Jake smiled.

Stiles whimpered in fear and then shied away when the man shushed him and petted his upper thigh.



“Any news?” Scott asked tiredly. They hadn’t slept all night, split into groups of two to search the woods while Lydia and Allison, still humans, tried other ways along with Danny at his house. Danny’s methods had proven fruitless as they tracked the cellphone to a dumpster a couple hundred feet away from the store. It had been dusted for fingerprints by the Sheriff but only Stiles’ were found.

“No, you?” Allison asked even though she knew the answer. She sighed when Scott shook his head and buried her face in his shoulder seeking comfort.

“Where’s Jackson?” Lydia asked, sounding less put-together than she had ever sounded in the time that Scott had known her.

“He’s outside, he’s twitchy from lack of sleep, frustrated from the lack of results, and worried out of his mind.” Scott jerked his head towards the door as he led Allison to his car. Lydia followed him out the door and then walked to Jackson, wrapping her arms around him and curling around his back.

“Lyds...” he sighed, and then said nothing. Both of them stayed in that position for a few moments before untangling and smiling softly at each other. They headed towards the car and Jackson started the Porsche towards the Sheriff’s house. The pack had decided that they would all bunk at Sheriff Stilinski’s house and support the man--also it would be an easier pack quarters to figure out where to go from today’s disappointing results (or lack thereof).

They were a minute away when Lydia’s phone beeped.

“What does this even say?” Lydia grumped as she tried to decipher the keyboard smashing version of a normal text. “‘dfont trspderfk gdft hekdlp’” she spelled out for Jackson and then when they pulled into the driveway, showed her phone to him.

“It looks like...” Jackson paled. “Something’s wrong.”

Lydia’s head snapped up from where she was staring at her phone trying to figure out what it said. “What?”

“It smells strange. There’s Derek’s scent here and something else...and something really familiar that feels evil.”

Lydia dropped her eyes back to the text and it struck her at the same time it did for Jackson.

“Don’t trap Derek get help,” they both blurted out at the same time. Lydia snatched her phone back and started sending a mass text to the pack and right as it sent, the glass of the car smashed into pieces. She screamed as a hand scrabbled at the car and Jackson tugged her with him as he yanked his door open and rolled the both of them out and onto the grass.

“Derek!” he shouted as he looked up to see Derek’s half-changed form, eyes a feral red (but somehow it wasn’t the proper Alpha red color?). “Derek, stop!” he shouted again as Derek lumbered towards him. He scrambled to cover Lydia and protect her but before Derek reached them, a sharp voice rang into the night.

Stop.” There was silence.

Jackson slowly brought his head up and saw a face he thought he’d never see again.

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