Chapter Text
When Stiles first started being excluded from pack meetings to be honest he didn’t even really notice. It started when some cartel got the bright idea to run drugs through Beacon Hills. It was a completely typical and, for Beacon Hills, oddly mundane turn of events. There was absolutely zero supernatural forces at work no matter how Deacon, Stiles, or Lydia looked at it and the Sheriff was pretty damn insistent that he had this and needed no assistance.
Which the Sheriff did have the right of it. This wasn’t the first time someone tried to run drugs through the isolated town. It probably wouldn’t be the last. Sheriff Stilinski had actually been elected and reelected because of his tough stance on drugs. He’d been on a drug task force in Sacramento before Stiles was born and was considered an authority on this type of crime especially in their area. So telling the McCall Pack to butt out was well within his rights.
Of course no one anticipated that the completely mundane drug dealers would kidnap Stiles as insurance either. Fortunately Stiles’ phone’s contact list was a crazy mix of nicknames and acronyms the thug who was holding him could not figure out.
“Which one of these is your dad Punk?” The thug pushed the screen into Stiles’ face with a snarl.
Stiles glanced over the phone’s screen. Honestly the last thing he wanted to do was call his dad. It would just worry him and put him in an awkward position. While he didn’t doubt his dad’s competence he’d rather not deal with either his or Scott’s morality right now. So calling his Alpha was out of the question as well. One contact caught his eye and Stiles tried not to smile. “Big Bad.”
“Big Bad? You call you Dad Big Bad?”
“Yeah cause he’s the Big Bad Sheriff gonna kick your drug running a-“ Stiles grit his teeth. Was the back hand really necessary? It wasn’t like his head wasn’t still spinning from whatever had been on the cloth they’d shoved in his face when they’d grabbed him outside of his house and stuffed him in the trunk of their car.
Stiles looked up when he heard the phone ringing. The bastard had it on speaker phone. A gun was pointed right at his face.
“You speak when you’re told.” The thug growled at him.
Stiles raised one eyebrow. He ran with wolves. The thug’s growl wasn’t impressive to him at all.
“Hello Sweetheart. What-“ Peter’s smooth voice came over the phone.
“Listen up Sheriff. We got your kid so you gonna do what we say. Got it?”
“Stiles?” Peter’s voice dropped into what Stiles referred to as his Big Bad Wolf range. A near sub-vocal growl that never failed to send shivers down the spines of their enemies.
The thug tilted the phone towards Stiles with a nod.
“Daddy they grabbed me outside the house and put some smelly rag over my face and stuffed me in a trunk.” The phone was pulled away and the gun was pressed against his forehead. Stiles wished he could say this was the only time he’d been in this situation. Fortunately to the thug the information he’d just given was useless to the Sheriff. It’d been after dark when he was taken, the streetlight had been burnt out for over a month. No one had seen him taken. But to Peter Hale? The information Stiles had just given was all he and Derek would need. A place to start, the potential of a strong chemical smell beyond his own to follow. Yeah the born wolves would have no trouble finding him now. Good thing the thug had no idea he wasn’t talking to the Sheriff.
“So here’s the deal Sheriff. There’s a shipment coming through on the interstate tonight. You and your deputies make yourself scarce or I’ll return your baby boy to you in pieces you understand?”
“I understand. I’ll stay away from the interstate. Now you understand me. If you’ve hurt Stiles in any way there will not be enough left of you to bury once I’m done with you.”
“You gotta catch me first Sheriff.” The thug said smugly before he tossed the phone in the air and shot it.
“What the fuck dude?”
“Had to make sure your Daddy didn’t turn on any of that GPS shit.”
“You could have just turned the phone off Dumbass.”
“Don’t worry kid. Your Daddy can get you another one.”
“Yeah because they pay the Sheriffs really well to deal with trash like you.” That earned him a pistol across the face. Stiles spit out the blood collecting in his mouth and carefully checked his teeth to make sure they were all still there. Clearly this guy hadn’t taken Peter’s threat seriously.
“Keep your mouth shut before I find another way to keep it busy. George has a thing for pretty little things like you. I normally don’t care for rape but if it’ll shut your smart mouth I can always just walk out of ear shot and let him have you.”
Stiles eyed the smirking bear in the corner holding the assault rifle who had licked his lips and groped him when he’d hauled him out of the car. Stiles flicked his eyes back to the thug in charge. He kept his mouth shut and strained his ears. He hoped he’d hear howling sooner rather than later.
Of course Stiles was completely unable to keep still. In lieu of talking he swayed gently in the chair and tapped his feet in the soft dirt. He concentrated on a beat from various songs trying to keep his mind occupied. He didn’t notice when he started singing along under his breath.
“You got ADHD or something?” The thug asked after a couple of hours of watching this.
“Yeah and I’ve missed at least one dose of my Adderall. I’m trying not to talk but asking me not to move is impossible. Unless you get a kick out of setting someone up for failure just to punish them.” Stiles glared up at him. His blood was dried on his face and cracked when he finally talked.
The thug just looked contemplative. “Ya know I think we have some Adderall in the shipment we’re running. I don’t have any here though. Nah it’s not annoying. Just don’t do something dumb like sing some song that never ends or some uneven beat and we’ll be cool.”
“Are you actually going to let me go?” Stiles asked.
“Yeah. If we kill you then what are we gonna hold over your Daddy’s head next time we need to do a run through here?”
Stiles winced. Once again he was the helpless one in this situation. Even though this was a completely mundane situation filled with normal humans he was still the weak one. Granted he’d like to see any normal person fight off three thugs armed with chloroform and guns in the dark.
There was a howl in the distance.
The thug in charge and George turned to look out the door of the small metal shed they were in. As far as Stiles could tell they were in some kind of supply shed though he didn’t know where as it’d still been dark when he’d been hauled out of the car.
“There aren’t any wolves in California.” George said.
“Awww you’re not scared of wolves are you?” Stiles smirked. He tossed back his head and howled in a poor imitation of his pack.
The thug in charge laughed at George’s wince.
“Shut up kid before I stuff my cock down your throat.” George stepped forward before the thug in charge stopped him.
“None of that.”
“Those aren’t wolves out there.” Stiles told them. He was completely unafraid now. Because if Peter and what sounded like Derek were close enough that he could hear their howls then there was no way they hadn’t pinpointed his own weak imitation.
“Yeah probably coyotes or something.” The thug reassured George while pushing him away from Stiles a bit.
“Not coyotes either. Those are werewolves.” Stiles told them with a smile. The pack bonds were thrumming now. Peter and Derek were very close.
“Very funny kid. Now shut up.”
Stiles shook his head. “I didn’t call my dad. I called the Big Bad Wolf. That’s him outside right now and given the amount of my blood that’s been spilled and the threats of rape you’ll be lucky if what’s coming is a quick death.”
“It won’t be.” A beta shifted Peter and Derek walked in.
Fortunately the two terrified thugs chose to try and empty their guns into the wolves instead of Stiles. Try being the key word there. They got out a shot or three a piece before the wolves were on them.
Stiles watched a bit dispassionately as Peter and Derek dismembered the thugs. Derek eventually left Peter to do the more precise torture work. The screams of each man were abruptly cut off as Peter deftly removed their vocal cords. Werewolves with their delicate hearing weren’t fans of screaming.
Derek quickly snapped the zip ties holding Stiles’ arms and legs to the chair. He whined at Stiles’ injured face.
“I’m okay. Although please put down being pistol whipped on the list of things Stiles’ no likey.” Stiles stood up with a groan intending to shake out his arms and legs but the head rush he experienced had him grabbing a hold of Derek. “Uh. My head’s spinning.”
“Concussion?”
“No. I think that stuff they knocked me out with is still in my system.”
Derek went to pick him up.
“No. I’m okay. Just let me get my bearings.”
They stood there in silence as they watched Peter work. The thugs were still alive. Their eyes were open and their torsos thrashed. Their arms and legs had been removed however and Peter was methodically snapping the bones into smaller and smaller pieces in front of them.
“Why make the bones smaller if we’re just gonna torch this place?” Derek asked.
“The smaller the bones the more likely they are to not be noticed or to just burn away.” Peter told them.
“Good to know.” Stiles said dryly. “Thanks for coming to my rescue guys.”
“Nothing you wouldn’t have done for us. We’re pack after all.” Derek told him squeezing the back of his neck with a hand still covered in the thug’s blood. Stiles thought he should be more disturbed by all of this than he was but honestly he was just kind of tired.
“What about the guy outside?”
“He was asleep in the front seat of the car. We just slit his throat quietly. Why? Did he need torture too?”
“Nah. I barely saw him. The big guy there wanted to rape me and the other guy threatened me with him but he seemed genuinely against it. He just hit me to shut me up.”
“Hmmm….I was trying to decide who to mercy kill first.”
“The other guy. Rapey the Bear groped me and would have totally raped me if given the opportunity. The beating wasn’t really necessary but at least I understand that part. Most people who have to put up with me wanna hit me.”
Derek chuckled dryly but still pulled Stiles a little closer. His eyes were glowing angrily.
“If you’re feeling better this will go a lot faster if you two would help.”
“What do you want us to do?”
“Tear the flesh off the bones. We’ll dump it in the river and the forest for the scavengers on our way home.”
Stiles stepped forward and with Derek’s help sat down next to Peter. The older wolf had found a large bag that seemed to be for yard clippings that he was tossing fleshy bits into.
“Go get the other guy and bring him in here too would you pup?” Peter asked Derek who nodded and left to do just that.
“So is this normal for the Left Hand of the Pack? The dismemberment and hiding the bodies thing?”
“Yup. Not that McCall knows he has a Left Hand and let’s keep it that way hmmm?”
“You got it Daddio. Hand me that box cutter up there would you?”
Peter grabbed the box cutter from a nearby shelf that Stiles was pointing at and handed it to his clawless pack mate as Derek carried the third body inside and started stripping it before he started making the precise cuts Peter told him to in order to strip the body of flesh.