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Gerard Argent backhands Stiles as he regains consciousness; his arm moves automatically to retaliate but he can’t reach and only succeeds in scraping his wrist against the restraints. He’s chained to the basement stairs in the Argent house, his back pressed into the edges of the steps, hands bound above his head and feet clamped to the floor.
‘Great,’ he thinks, ‘Just fuckin’ great.’
“Hey, asshole! What’s with the chains - you scared of a scrawny human? You better be; I’ve got friends in high places, you know.” He tugs at the chains again and then grins. “Sheriff’s gonna get you! Sheriff’s gonna get you,” he sing-songs and gets another slap for his efforts.
“You’ll tell me what I want to know.”
“Why not ask them?” Stiles asks, nodding towards Erica and Boyd.
“They’re werewolves, betas; they won’t give up their Alpha whatever I do to them, but you…you never stop talking. Well, for once we’re gonna make good use of your slack mouth. Tell me about Derek Hale.”
“Wow! You don’t ask much, do you? That one’s a bit taciturn, tight-lipped and hey... that’s your fault. I bet you put Kate up to it, didn’t you - psycho.”
Gerard turns around and pokes Stiles in the side with something and he screams. Gerard has rigged up some kind of cattle prod and the electric shock he gets comes as a miserable surprise to Stiles. Boyd and Erica strain to see him, see if he’s alright. They can’t really see enough to tell, but then he starts talking again, so they at least know he’s still alive.
“Bet that rankled though,” Stiles continues. “Knowing that he’d fucked your daughter!”
Gerard’s head shoots up at that.
“Oh! You didn’t know. Ha! She wasn’t quite as disgusted by werewolves as you’d thought. Couldn’t get enough - sick bitch!”
He gets another prod for that and screams just as loud, but it doesn’t stop him talking.
“Ha! What if she’d gotten pregnant? How would you feel about that...little werewolfy cubs running around? Argent werewolves! Bet you’d love that. Oh shit! No, no, no, no...you’d fuckin’ kill them wouldn’t you, you sick fuck! Can’t have Argent wolves. Have you told Allison yet that you forced Victoria to kill herself? No, probably not. She wouldn’t be playing Grandpa’s little helper if you had.”
“Aaagghh!” He screams again, the pain worse this time.
“You don’t like that do you?” Gerard leers at him. “I’ll keep turning up the power as long as you keep babbling. Now tell me what I want to know.”
“Ok...ok, I’ll tell you all I know about Derek. Ok, let me see.”
Erica tries to shout (despite the tape over her mouth), to tell Stiles not to, but the electrical current Gerard has rigged to run through her and Boyd leaves them paralysed.
“He’s kinda gorgeous, no wonder Kate couldn’t resist! Though, he was only a teenager then. Just a kid, really. God, you fuckers are evil. Wanting the whole family dead - that’s evil, but setting Derek up - that’s so psycho. And you killed them all, even the little kids. You should be eviscerated, sliced into little str… Aaaaagh!”
Stiles recovers from his latest shock. “Fuck, you weren’t joking were you? That hurt!”
“You were telling me about Derek.”
“Oh yeah! Ok...well, he’s got really nice eyes. Kinda bluey-hazel, really weird, not that I’ve had a chance to get a good look. He’s kinda mean, not sure he likes anyone outside the pack. Always snarling and brooding. Ummm...what else...he favours the darker colours in his wardrobe, blacks an… Aaaaghh!”
“Fuck! Shit! What was that for? I’m telling you what I know.”
He gets another backhander for that.
“Stop with the trivia and tell me something useful.”
“Shit! Haven’t you got it yet? I don’t know anything; I don’t know Derek!”
“I’ve seen you with him, you and that Scott.”
“Yeah! And that’s the only reason I was with him. Because of Scott! He’s my best friend; I’m always with Scott. Ha! Another of the Argent girls getting fucked by a were… Aggggggh!”
This time Gerard leaves the cattle prod against his skin until he passes out.
“Bet that rankled, knowing he fucked your daughter!” Stiles repeats, smirking as he comes round.
“Oh good! You’re back with us again.” Gerard gives him a sick grin. “Let’s see if you’ve got it yet! Tell me something useful. How strong is the pack?”
“I don’t know; how am I supposed to know? I’m not even sure who’s in his pack. Though Derek could rip you apart if he got his hands on you. You disgusting old man!”
Stiles spits at Gerard, catches him right in the face and laughs.
“Fuckin’ sicko - fuckin’psycho! You’re gonna get ripped to shreds when he finds out about Boyd and Erica. You’ll just be tiny little pieces of goo smeared-- Agh!”
“...smeared across the bloody ground. Bet they won’t even be able to find all of you. Bet they won’t bother! Aggggh!”
“I notice you don’t include yourself with these two wolves here. Not sure if Derek would be bothered that I’ve got you here, are you? You’re just a weakling human, aren’t you? He doesn’t give a shit about you, does he Mr. Stilinski? You’re just some kind of throwaway pack toy. Or are you his little fuck toy? Do you spread your legs for him, human?”
Stiles spits at him again. “Fuck off Argent! I’m a fuckin’ virgin. None of them have ever touched me. I told you I don’t know them.”
“But you lied didn’t you? You do know them and you’re going to tell me all about it.”
At that he presses the prod against Stiles’ skin again and he passes out immediately. When he comes to, Gerard is still there, still smiling his revolting smile.
“They don’t think much of you, do they Stiles? Not even your best friend Scott. Haven’t seen much of him lately, have you? He’s a little obsessed with my granddaughter at the moment. Are you lonely Mr. Stilinski? Still a virgin at your age? Not such a pretty face, are you? Didn’t they offer you the bite? Didn’t want an annoying little shit like you in the pack, I’ll bet. What are you doing here Mr. Stilinski? You’re not pack; they don’t give a shit about you. Not even Scott...that’s right! Not even Scott. So what are you doing, huh? Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you go. Even drive you home if you like, it’s a bit of a walk.”
“I don’t know anything about the pack!” Stiles yells each word at Gerard, slowly as if he’s too stupid to understand.
“What about your dad then?”
“What about Dad?”
“What does he know about Derek and the fire?”
“Leave my dad out of this. He doesn’t know anything; he doesn’t even know about werewolves.”
“Soft spot, is he? You worried about your father, Stiles? You worried he might get hurt? He could you know, very easily. It’s a dangerous job being sheriff.”
“Are you seriously threatening the sheriff?” Stiles scoffs, trying not to think of dead deputies and kanimas.
“No. I’m threatening you. Think you’re lonely now? What would it be like without your father? Everybody leaves you Stiles. Just like your mother. Just like Scott. You’ll be all alone. No one will give a shit whether you live or die.”
“I guess you’d know, psycho. You’re already alone. Aghhhh!”
Stiles knows his dad has got a fair amount of information on Kate Argent and the fire. Enough to seriously embarrass Gerard and the whole Argent family at the very least. He wants to keep Gerard off that topic. Doesn’t quite trust his face not to give anything away, and he really doesn’t want to think about the massacre at the police department. So he starts with the insults again and gets knocked out again as a result.
“You’re not very bright, are you Mr. Stilinski? You could be home by now.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I fancied a night out. Just hangin’, y’know!” And Stiles erupts into peals of hysterical laughter until he’s made to scream, again.
There’s noise from upstairs, heavy boots and then the basement door opens.
“Gerard? Chris and Allison are on their way back,” someone shouts.
“Oh well,” Gerard huffs. “We’ll have to leave this for today. What a shame!”
He shocks Stiles once more and he loses consciousness almost instantly. Unlocking Stiles’ arms from the stair rails, Gerard slips a plastic zip tie over them, draws it tight around Stiles’ wrists and shoves him into the dark recess under the stairs. He gives the werewolves an evil smirk and disappears through a door neither of them had noticed before.
Chris Argent walks down the stairs into the basement, looking for Gerard. He switches on the lights and turns to see Erica and Boyd chained to the ceiling. Swearing, he quickly turns back and cuts the power supply to the wires keeping the werewolves immobilised.
“Damn, how long has he had you here? Since Allison shot you? Have you healed?”
He’s pretty much talking to himself – he already knows the answers. He removes the electrical cabling from the teenagers and lowers them to the floor. He checks Boyd’s body for injuries first and then turns to Erica. He’s about to raise her t-shirt and gets slapped for his trouble.
“I’m good,” she rasps, “but...” she points under the stairs, “he’s not.”
“Shit!” Chris moves so he can see. “Is that the sheriff’s son?”
“Yeah, it’s Stiles.” Boyd huffs out, barely able to make himself audible.
Chris points to a bench across the room. “Sit. I’m not going to harm you. Just rest while I take care of Stiles and then I’ll get you out of here.”
He kneels down to get a better look at the unconscious boy. “I’m going to murder that old man!”
He cuts the ties from Stiles’ arms and releases his legs, pulling at him as gently as possible.
“You want some help?” Boyd asks.
“Yeah...yeah, that’d be good. Can you get his head?”
They move Stiles into the middle of the room, into the light, and lay him down carefully. Bruises are beginning to rise on his face, one of his eyes blackened and his skin blotchy.
“What did he do to him?” Chris asks.
“Tortured him...with a fuckin’ cattle prod,” Erica spits out. “He wanted to know about Derek.”
“And the Hale house fire,” adds Boyd. “They know what Kate did.”
Chris’ eyebrows rise. “They?”
“Stiles...and the sheriff.”
Chris’ shoulders slump and he takes a deep breath. “Good!”
Both Erica and Boyd stare at Chris, shocked and confused.
“I’m not my father,” he says and turns his attention back to Stiles.
Stiles is still unconscious and Chris shakes his shoulders gently, calling his name. Eventually he begins to come around and struggles to open his eyes, blinking against the light.
“Wha...” Stiles tries to speak, starting at the sight of Chris Argent.
“It’s alright. Gerard’s gone.”
“Erica? Boyd?” Stiles asks, trying to turn to find them.
“We’re here,” Erica says moving to his side. “We’ll be ok.”
She puts her arms around him and pulls him into a sitting position. He clings to her, still confused.
“How are you feeling?” Chris asks. “Do you think you can stand?”
“Yeah... maybe, with help,” Stiles replies.
Chris and Erica ease him to his feet and he leans into her. “Dad...” he mumbles.
“We’ll get you home soon, don’t worry – I’ll text him.” Chris tries to reassure him.
“How are you two? Are you ready to go?” Chris asks the werewolves.
“Yeah...yesterday!” Erica snarks.
“Good, good – can you help him up the stairs?” Boyd moves forward to help Erica support Stiles.
“Thanks,” Chris breathes and he runs up the steps to get the door.
As they reach the hall, Allison calls down from upstairs. “Dad?”
“Yes, love,” Chris answers.
“Everything ok?”
“Yeah – I’m just going out for a few minutes, I’ll see you later.”
He hurries them out of the house towards his SUV. “I’ll take Stiles home first and then I’ll drop you two wherever you want.”
“Don’t worry,” Boyd says. He’s had enough of the Argents. “We could do with the run.”
Stiles reaches out and the three of them hug and then the werewolves are gone. Chris helps Stiles into the car and they head into town.
“Don’t tell my dad anything...please,” Stiles asks.
“Ok. If you’re sure you’ll be alright,” Chris answers tentatively.
“Yeah, I’ll live,” Stiles replies and slumps against the window and closes his eyes.
Stiles is exhausted after what Gerard did to him and the whole kanima fiasco. He stays home and sees no one for a week, sleeping most of the time and keeping out of his dad’s way. The pitying, worried looks the sheriff gives him as his facial bruises go through their colour changes are too much for him. He hates lying.
He’s surprised when he gets the text from Erica telling him there’s a pack meeting, but decides to go anyway. No one’s told him what happened after he left the warehouse and he’s keen to find out about Gerard.
The betas and Lydia are all there when he gets out of the jeep at the Hale house and he follows them inside to where Derek is waiting in the living room. They move to sit down and Erica drags him to her side as she sits down on one of the sofas.
“Stiles?” Derek furrows his eyebrows. “Why are you here? I told Scott not to come.”
“I’m not Scott!” Stiles replies indignantly.
“We wanted him here,” Boyd states looking at Erica and she smiles back at him.
“Ok,” Derek nods. “It’s useful anyway; there’s some research I need you to do,” he says, not elaborating.
The meeting goes off pretty much as normal until Jackson announces that he’s got to move out east with his parents and is unlikely to be back.
Stiles is surprised he’s not more pleased about the news, after all the time he’s spent pining after Lydia. Now though, he’s just worried about her and about how Jackson will cope without the pack.
The next day, Stiles is at his desk, researching, when the window opens. Without looking up he moans, “Learn to use the door, Sourwolf!”
“Not Derek,” Erica replies as she climbs through the opening followed by Boyd.
“Whoa!” Stiles spins around on his chair, smiling. “To what do I owe this honour? Not that I’m not pleased to see you, ‘cos I am, it’s just a surprise.” Stiles stops himself before he gets set into full-on rambling mode.
“Get used to it!” Erica snarks.
“We watched what he did to you,” Boyd says by way of explanation.
“Oh!” Stiles looks at them both, trying to take in what that means. “Have you guys heard anything? Do you think he’s dead?”
“No idea,” Boyd replies. “Probably not – he’s a tenacious old bastard!”
As if to change the subject, Erica thrusts a paper bag towards Stiles. He takes it and peers inside to find a large coffee and a bear claw pastry. When he looks up at her he’s beaming, “I could learn to love you.”
“Best not,” she replies, pointing towards Boyd, who’s faking a Derek scowl as he growls “Mine!” and wraps his arms around her.
Stiles collapses into giggles and the other two join him. ‘Maybe not everything’s so bad,’ he thinks.