August 23: lost & basement - Derek and Stiles kidnapped together 😈
(you are a horrible person and I love you. here, have our boys kidnapped and tormented, with some extra flashbacks for Stiles)
Tags: m/m, kidnapping, hurt/comfort, Spark Stiles, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave
Main Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, Allison Argent
@writersmonth Prompts: lost + basement
Summary: Stiles and Derek get kidnapped by hunters. When Stiles wakes up in a basement, it brings back memories of a different basement and different hunters.
This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3
What Happens in the Basement
Stiles Summer Stories 2024
Stiles blinked blearily. His head ached, there was a pounding coming from the back of his head. Where he had been hit. Knocked out. Which was why he felt like shit right now. Something was dripping nearby. He didn't like that sound. Groaning, labored breath. Someone else was here.
He turned his head very slowly. Careful. Bracing himself for what he would find. It wasn't what he expected. Shirtless Derek, strung up on the ceiling.
Stiles' breath hitched as he saw the electricity attached to him. Sending regular shocks through the Alpha, keeping him from breaking loose. He jolted at every shock. Stiles' breath picked up, panic rising in his chest as that stuffy, kind of wet air of the basement and the sound of electricity, the pained grunts of a wolf getting tortured by electricity, sent him back to a different basement.
He could still see Gerard's sneer, feel his boots kicking Stiles' ribs until they cracked, until he couldn't breath anymore and he couldn't breath, he couldn't breath, because he couldn't get Boyd and Erica down, he couldn't free them, he'd tried but the electricity shocked him, nearly knocked him out and then Gerard had come and beat on him and-
"Stiles, Stiles," Derek roared, weaker than usual, but loud enough to startled Stiles back in the now. "Wherever your mind went, don't follow it. I need you in the here, Stiles."
"Basement," Stiles croaked out.
It took Derek only a moment – only, because, they were in a basement so why would Derek understand what he meant – but then understanding lit up those hazel eyes. He growled.
"Stiles, you're okay," Derek spoke softly. "Boyd and Erica are okay. They're probably right now cursing both of us for getting abducted. They're safe. You all got out of that basement. Argent is dead and you're all alive and you're safe. Well… We will be safe, once we get out of here. But for that, I need you in the present day, not in the past. Can you do that for me, Stiles?"
The past. Right. He wasn't that terrified sixteen year old kid anymore who had no experience. He knew how to fight. Him and his pack had been defending this damn town for two years now. He wasn't taking a beating laying down anymore. He was never going to let anyone have that much power and control over him anymore. Taking a shaky breath, Stiles nodded.
"What do we do, Alpha?" Stiles asked, voice sharper.
Compartmentalize. He could have his flashbacks later, throw up and cry all he wanted about the memories and the feeling of being helpless and useless. He could focus on the pain he was in later on too, curl together on his bed, nurse his injuries and bemoan that wolves healed faster. Right now, there were more important things to focus on, like getting himself and his Alpha out.
"How's your flame?" Derek asked in a very low voice.
In case someone was listening in. Flame. It felt weird, that Derek called it that. One would think that Derek had very, very bad associations with fire. But he said that the flame his Spark lit was different. Was good. A flame that kept their pack warm and safe, that burned down their enemies.
Closing his eyes, Stiles concentrated on his magic, visualizing the spark of it. It was dim. Physical injuries tended to drain his magic as it compensated into trying to heal him.
"Running low on fuel," Stiles muttered frustrated. "I'll need… an hour."
Derek grunted his confirmation, nodding his head. "Maybe the pack will find us before that."
"Maybe," Stiles swallowed hard, still tugging on his magic, trying to hurry it.
"And if not, I trust my Emissary," Derek's eyes were too honest, too warm, too much.
Stiles choked on his words. How had he earned that level of trust? How could he love this man so much? All he could give Derek in return was a jerky nod. The Alpha knew how much his trust meant to Stiles. Even though that trust was mutual. They'd saved each other's lives too often over the past two years now. They knew they could always rely on each other, even if there was nobody else. Sure, their pack was strong and loyal, but even without any of the betas, Alpha and Emissary would always be able to back each other up. Even before they were Alpha or Emissary, when they were just Derek and Stiles, a lone beta on the verge of omega and a flailing teen with no magic.
/break\
A couple minutes later, three men walked into the basement. Stiles steeled himself, Derek could tell by the tenseness on the boy. He knew what came next. He locked eyes with Stiles, trying to convey that he was here, that they would get out of this together. He really hoped Stiles didn't remember how they'd gotten here. Because the hunters had shot Isaac, wolfsbane spreading through the blonde, the pup going down, distracting Stiles long enough to drop his magic. The hunters shot Derek next, as he tried to protect his pup and his mate – Emissary – and then they'd been taken.
If Stiles remembered that Isaac was hurt, poisoned, possibly alone, possibly worse, then that would only send Stiles into another panic like earlier. They couldn't afford that. Not right now.
"Last of the Hales," one of the hunters laughed. "You should fetch a good price."
"What do we do with that one though. He's not a wolf."
One of the hunters approached Derek, but the other went for Stiles. And no. No, that wasn't good. That wouldn't do. Stiles needed to focus on his magic and Stiles needed to be safe. Last time he'd been captured by hunters and tortured in a basement had really messed Stiles up. He'd had nightmares for months, Boyd and Erica sneaking into his room to comfort each other.
"I'm the one you want," Derek growled, baring his fangs and flashing his red eyes.
A fist connected with his jaw. Good. Meant they didn't pay attention to Stiles. The third hunter sat on the table, in front of Stiles and Derek. Adjusting the tools that laid out next to him. A silent threat for what came next. Derek ground his teeth together.
"I think," the second hunter spoke, looking at Stiles. "We could have some fun with this one."
"Oh, I'm not fun," Stiles quipped. "Ask anyone. I'm so annoying, I talk too much and you will just have a migraine at the end of it, honestly I think you would do yourself a favor just letting me go."
Why could that boy not shut up once in his life? Did Stiles really not have any self-preservation instincts at all? Derek growled annoyed, glaring at his Emissary. The glare hardened when a fist collided with Stiles' face. Derek was going to tear that hunter apart himself. Nobody laid a hand on his Stiles. A snarl tore from his throat, feral and vicious.
/break\
Scott was fully panicking and he was so glad to have Allison and Lydia right now, because Allison calmed him down and Lydia was the brain. Their Alpha was gone and so was their Stiles and Scott just so did not function well without Stiles, Stiles was his best friend, his brother, what if something serious was happening to him? Plus, Isaac was shot. They'd found him, barely breathing – the hunters must have left him behind, left him for death. Only taking Alpha and Emissary.
"Boyd, Jackson, you go through the back," Lydia instructed. "Scott and Erica, through the front. Allison is in place to keep an eye on everything from above, I'm waiting in the car, keeping it running so we can move fast, in case they're not in good shape. Everyone got it?"
Sharp nods, serious looks from all betas. An attack on their pack, they took those seriously. They made their way into the house, taking the two hunters in front of the television out, meeting up in the living room. Following their noses, they went downstairs to the basement. Scott's heart sank into his stomach as he saw Stiles, battered and bruised and strung up. Erica next to him gasped out a sob, shaking a little. Within seconds, Scott was next to them, freeing Stiles.
"Stiles," Scott whined. "Are you alright? Are you in a lot of pain?"
Even while he said it, he drained Stiles' pain. A pleased smile spread over Stiles' face as he collapsed into Scott's arms fully boneless. Scott looked over at Derek, watching Jackson and Boyd take their Alpha down after turning of the electricity. Right now, Derek looked even worse. Once the electricity stopped, Derek would heal faster.
"Hey, Batman," Erica's voice was shaky. "H… How are you feeling? Are you okay?"
"Der took the brunt force," Stiles muttered, glaring at the Alpha. "Kept mouthing off. Worse than me, I swear. I have never heard him talk that much. Idiot."
Scott heaved a sigh. Why was Stiles like this. He was going to bring Scott into an early grave. Wrapping an arm securely around Stiles' waist, with Erica on Stiles' other side, he helped Stiles out and toward the car where Lydia and Allison were waiting for them.
"Time to get home," Lydia chimed, eyes on Stiles and Derek in the back. "You'll be fine."
And somehow, she made that sound like an order. Nobody argued with Lydia Martin.
/break\
Isaac had gotten hurt. Stiles' face fell when he saw the bandaged beta. Hobbling over to him, Stiles curled around the blonde and buried his face in Isaac's neck. The blow to his head had distracted him from how exactly he had received that blow. Isaac whined and snuggled up to him.
"You're alright," Isaac sighed relieved, nuzzling him. "Derek?"
The Alpha grunted and came to lay on Isaac's other side. "I'm alright. You're alright too, pup."
Erica, Boyd and Scott practically brawled over getting to lay closest to Stiles, while Allison, Lydia and Jackson accepted to lay on Derek's side. Just like that, the pack was one puppy pile. Stiles loved those. He smiled contently as Erica wrapped an arm around his waist, Boyd having a hand on his arm from where he had Erica sandwiched between himself and Stiles. Scott was half laying on Erica so he could also wrap himself around Stiles. They were fine. His pack was fine. Safe.
He started shaking as the tears he'd locked away earlier broke free. Nobody commented on it, they just held him, quietly, knowing he needed to process what had happened today, what had happened a year ago. Derek on Isaac's other side scooted higher, high enough so he could lean over and nuzzle Stiles' face. His lips brushed against Stiles' cheek in a gentle kiss and it gave Stiles pause. He turned his head ever so slightly, enough to align their lips. The kiss was short and not how Stiles had ever pictured, but it was even better because it was comfort, reassurance and love.
"You're alright, Stiles. We're all going to be alright," Derek whispered and kissed him again.
~*~ The End ~*~
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🪢
He was getting really sick and tired of being kidnapped.
The blacking out, waking up with a piercing headache from getting hit, or swimming senses dulled by drugs, restraints, dark and damp cells, interrogations, pain, pain, and more pain... None of it was a good time and he frankly wasn't here for it. Zero out of ten, would not recommend.
God, being the token human in a werewolf pack sucked.
He could taste blood in his mouth, could only see out of one eye (the other presumably swollen shut, already), but hey, at least he'd been given a chair! Well, he'd been tied to a chair, hands behind the back, ankles to the chair legs—more professional stuff than some of what he'd dealt with in the past, he had to give them kudos for that—but he had to focus on the little silver linings, right?
He wasn't sure how long he'd been sat there in the dark. What he did know was that his head ached and he was having difficulty stringing together coherent thoughts—definitely drugged, this time—but he tried to take in what he could of his surroundings anyways. It wasn't much. Small, dark room, no windows, one door, cement walls and floor. A basement, probably.
That took him all of two minutes, leaving him a mixture of bored and on edge, nervously tapping one foot, while he waited and stared at the door.
A door that slowly—finally—creaked open, light filling the room from behind someone, leaving their features cast in shadows. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, fear and anxiety clawing their way up his throat. He couldn't fight, couldn't run, so he did the only thing he was still capable of.
He ran his mouth.
"You know, the room service here is terrible. I ordered lunch, like, an hour ago and still haven't gotten it. You should know, you're looking at a future of terrible Yelp reviews, if you keep that up.
Stiles Stilinski - Teen Wolf
@dramatisperscnae (x)
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