Chapter 1; Kate Argent Is Dead:
3rd Person P.O.V
Stiles whimpered as the were-jaguar approached. His abused body trembled but he refused to scream for mercy. He couldn't give her the satisfaction. Not again. He'd screeched and cried but never begged. Not that. This was Kate Argent. The psycho who'd killed Derek's family. His mate's family. Hurt and threatened his pups. So, no begging.
Yet still he shook, chained to the cold, damp stone wall. He'd been tortured in this cell for over a week now but he hasn't given up. He can't. He was caked in dried sweat, blood and tears. What little of his clothes remained were dirty tatters. Wounds and bruises littered his skin. He was a mess. And Kate loved it. Not to mention the fact she was about to make it worse. "So. How are we today, Stiles honey? Want to talk?" A tirade of sarcasm and expletives was the outraged reply. Stiles wasn't happy. Now, neither was Kate. "You pathetic human!" she spat, eyes burning in fury. She'd had enough of this cocky human brat's ramblings and insults. Striding forward she grabbed his tongue, claws drawing blood. The defiant glare he gave her sent her spiralling over the thin ledge of her sanity. With yet another expletive echoing round the room, she used her claws in the most horrific way.
Kate cut off Stiles' tongue.
Derek P.O.V (the next day)
We had finally found her. Kate. And that meant we'd found Stiles. It had been 9 days since I'd seen him, talked to him, held him and I was desperate. But when I saw him all strength left me. There was so much blood. He looked dead. I could hear his shallow breathing and slow, weak heartbeat, but still...
And suddenly I was sent flying back by Kate. Completely enraged, I clawed and bit and kicked at the were-jaguar. I didn't stop until her head lolled, nearly torn off, and her insides could be seen. In an instant I was by Stiles' side, breaking the chains, holding him as gently as possible.
"Stiles? Baby? Come on, answer me Stiles!" I felt the panic rising in my throat fade when his eyes fluttered open. He looked so happy to see me, even through his clear agony, as he stretched a trembling hand to wipe away my tears. His eyes too were watering but he didn't make a sound. He looked at me questioningly. I understood. "She's dead babe. She can't hurt us anymore. Let's head home. The others want to see you." I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. He smiled a small, soft smile. Picking Stiles up bridal style, I cradled him close. I had him back. I had my mate.
Yet something was wrong.
3rd Person P.O.V
They rushed to Deaton's. The pack had suffered surprisingly few injuries, at worst a few broken bones. Stiles was the concern. Derek had refused to let go of him and the boy had yet to wake up. His breathing had deepened - eased - a little but his heartbeat was still terrifyingly weak. Not a single member of the pack could stop glancing at him, wrapped in Derek's leather jacket. Every speed-limit was well broken to get to Deaton's in record time.
And when they got to the vet's they were in for a shock. At the gentle poking and prodding, Stiles awoke. "Stiles!" Various voices cried out. Deaton shush them. "Is there anything in particular wrong?" he asked urgently. Stiles nodded, an expression of deep sadness on his face. Slowly, in pain, he opened his mouth. Everyone gasped and growled. How dare Kate do this! If she wasn't dead...
Stiles smiled sadly. He wasn't able to talk.
Chapter 2; Home:
Derek P.O.V
Stiles. My beautiful, funny, ADHD Stiles was mute. That evil were-jaguar had cut out his tongue. I nearly stormed out to kill some innocent bunnies but the pleading, needy, distraught, worried look in my mate's teary eyes stopped me. He was scared. Terrified. He needed me. Smiling reassuringly, I took his hand. I would be as strong as he was.
"Right!" Deaton exclaimed, unable to focus with all the growling, whimpering werewolves, "Out, out, out! Derek... You can stay. The rest of you go home and rest. Eat. Treat any wounds that are still there. Wait for these two to come back, okay?" With my prompting and a weak smile from Stiles, they left, looking sick with worry. And, once we heard the cars drive off his smile dropped. A wavering sigh escaped and the tears fell.
I held Stiles as weird, strangled, somehow incomplete sobs rocked his frail, battered frame and he clung to me. Deaton gave us some space until the crying eased.
And so, an hour or two later, I drove us home. The pups heard us a mile off and were waiting in the car park. The instant I lifted my mate out of the car they crowded round, eager to know how Stiles was. He was sleeping. I shushed them quickly. God knows he needed the rest.
3rd Person P.O.V
Once Stiles was set to bed, the entire pack met downstairs. It was tense as they waited for Derek to speak. "Sti-" his voice cracked but he continued, "Stiles will be fine. He just won't be able to speak. Ever." His words shook as tears once more filled his eyes. That loud, sarcastic voice Derek so loved would never again reach his ears. And how would Stiles manage? He couldn't go to a shop and ask for curly fries... He couldn't sing the Batman theme tune... He couldn't shout at the pups... He'd never say 'I love you' again... The entire pack was in shock. The last words they'd ever hear him say were, "Love ya guys, see you later!" Admittedly, they were good words but...
Their gobby pack mom... It was all just too horrible. They wanted to cry in their mum's arms. Not to mention Derek. The alpha was stood there, tall, back straight but broken with worry and concern and fear. "How are we going to tell John?" Scott burst out. The feel of the room became all the more somber. It took a minute for Derek to shake himself and galvanise everyone into action.
"Scott - call the Sheriff. Twins and Danny - please cook something light Stiles can eat. Maybe soup? And then pizza or pasta for everyone else? Meanwhile girls can you go out and buy some more groceries, I think we need the entire pack here for a while. Everyone else - if you need to, get your guardians to let you stay here indefinitely. Or at least as long as possible. I'm going to check on Stiles. Okay?" The pack all went off or simply sat down.
Derek P.O.V
I went up the stairs, feet heavy but a little lighter. At least Stiles was here with us. He was safe. We could look after him. I could home-school him - after all, he couldn't really go back to school and I'd already been through the system. In fact, if it weren't for the law, I wouldn't even bother with that. I'd just keep him with me and the pack forever. And then I was entering our room and looking at him. God... even bruised and battered he was beautiful. I sighed in relief at his peaceful sleeping. At least he wasn't having nightmares. Carefully, quietly, I lay down beside him. I'd stay until John turned up. I curled around him, spooning. After a few moments, he snuggled back into me. At least he was safe now. And soon I drifted off too.
Within the hour I was awoken, rather rudely, by the shout of a certain sheriff as he stormed into our house. Slowly, I moved away from Stiles. I was more than reluctant to. As I got downstairs I was immediately faced with the terrified, angry face of John Stilinski. "Calm down please sir. Stiles is upstairs sleeping and it'll do him no good to be woken up." Seeing the sincerity in my eyes he paused. Sighed. Took a deep breath. "Okay Derek. Just tell me - what's wrong with him? Clearly something's up. The pack won't tell me but they... they look incredibly sad and worried and... Something is clearly very wrong so spit it out. Please." "Kate cut... Kate cut out his tongue. He's alright. He just can't speak. He won't ever be able to again." Once more tears came to my eyes but this time they spilt out, reflecting John's. I stepped aside, letting him past. What else could I do?