They came in the middle of the night.
Scott would reflect later on the irony of the situation. Everything they had been through in the past year and a half, of all the supernatural creatures and strange phenomenon they've had to protect themselves from, the one creature Scott didn't take enough precautions against was humans.
Even at his most vulnerable Scott was not an easy target. Being a True Alpha had some to do with it, though not exclusively. He still had plenty to learn about his ever-evolving abilities and sometimes that hampered him almost as much as his present abilities helped him. What made Scott a harder target was that he rarely felt safe. He'd been hunted, threatened too many times by too many creatures. He'd worried about what was in the dark one too many times to not know that there was always more there, unheard and unseen. He knew his own strength and knew that as strong as he felt, however powerful he could be, there were things that existed that were much more powerful. This gave him an edge; he knew not to get complacent. He knew to never assume that because there was no immediate threat that meant there wasn't one waiting for the right moment.
He was well acquainted with the sinking of his heart, the quiver in his stomach, when he heard of some horrible thing on the news. A murder. A mysterious happening. Something unable to be easily explained. There was always that moment of tension and taut nerves until he knew that it was not a supernatural occurrence, that some new enemy had not materialized to endanger his life or the lives of his friends, or that would require him to protect Beacon Hills yet again. There would be more of it. It would happen again, of that Scott was sure. There was absolutely going to be a next time. He'd sworn to protect the town to the best of his ability and he was not going to step down just because he was sometimes afraid. Scott was learning that being brave didn't mean the absence of fear. Being brave meant doing what was necessary in spite of the fear.
The edge that fear gave him had weaknesses and any good enemy would know that.
When they came for Scott, he could have fought. They were human, if heavily armed. He might have had a chance, and the rage he felt just knowing that these people had entered his home, his one safe place...that might have helped.
But they knew his weaknesses, and his biggest one was sleeping two doors away, oblivious to the danger to her son. Melissa had no idea that armed strangers had entered her home, easily crossing the supernatural barriers they never failed to activate. Melissa had no idea that her life was in peril if her teenage son did not let these savage people, those who's inhumanity came solely from being human, overpower him. Melissa would not know until morning rose that Scott had been quietly but brutally beaten and electrocuted into unconsciousness and carried out of their home. She had no way to know that he had stood still and let it happen under the threat that to resist would mean her death.
All Melissa McCall knew when she saw her son's room, when she saw that he was missing, that his bed was mussed and blood was gorily evident, was that something was very, very wrong.
