I'm sorry this is such a short chapter, I just needed to get this one out so I could really get into it in the next one. Please review, it's great motivation to update sooner. I hope you enjoy!


Scott opened the front door to find the sheriff standing on his doorstep. He hadn't called the man, but the red marks around his wrists and the intense expression on his face suggested he was already well aware, maybe even more so than Scott, of the situation at hand.

"What do you know?" asked the sheriff coldly.

"Enough." said Scott.

"Do you know where he is?"

Scott gulped and shook his head. The older man's face didn't change. He walked straight past Scott and into the living room where he turned round, breathing hard, looking like he might explode.

"That monster broke into my home, Scott." he said, a barely audible break in his voice. "She taped me to a chair, pretended to be me over text, and then kidnapped my son. I need to find him. I need to find him or so help me God-" The Sheriff paused and took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He looked at Scott, and the mad worry on his face was a painful sight. "She told me that you'd know what to do to get him back." he continued. This time his voice was more controlled yet desperate and wavering. "Please tell me she was telling the truth. Please tell me you know, Scott."

Scott hesitated. His heart pounded hard. He didn't know what to say.

"It's complicated." was what he landed upon.

The sheriff's eyebrows turned inward.

"Then un-complicate it." he said, harsh and low.

So reluctantly, Scott told him about the phone call he'd received ten minutes earlier. About Kate being next on their latest serial killer's hit list. About how she wanted them to kill whoever or whatever it was. And about how Stiles' life was on the line if they didn't. He chose to leave out the cries of pain he'd heard before he'd been cut off, as well as the noise of metal crashing against skin and bone repeatedly. The sounds had torn themselves an unpleasant place in his memory, and there was no need for them to be corrupting the sheriff's head too.

"So we either find this killer, we find Kate, or my son dies." said the sheriff in summary, his hands starting to shake.

"We can trace his phone." suggested Scott hopefully. "We need to start looking. We need to be at the police station. We need to tell everyone."

"No, no police." said the sheriff. "No humans except me. Where's Derek? We need Derek."

"He's on his way, why?"

"Good."

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Scott could already hear Derek's steady heartbeat before he even turned the handle. The werewolf's face was deadly serious as he entered, not waiting for permission.

Scott jumped when the sheriff rushed forward suddenly and pushed Derek into the wall hard. The impact knocked a picture frame from it's mount. Stiles' father's hands were wrapped firmly into the other man's jacket.

"Stiles told me you knew her." The Sheriff's voice was like ice, severe and unforgiving. "Where would she have taken him? Tell me."

Derek glanced at the sheriff's hands, and then at his frenzied glare. Scott knew he would be able to overpower the man in a heartbeat, but the werewolf simply stood there, face contorting into one of sadness and frustration.

"I don't know." he said simply. "I'm sorry."

The sheriff's hands seemed to clench tighter for a second, but then he released his grip and stumbled backwards, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath. All of a sudden he looked utterly lost, and eventually he faltered over to the couch where he dropped down, letting his head fall into his hands. Derek stepped forward opening his mouth to speak, but then he seemed to decide against it and his lips fell shut.

There was an uncomfortably tense silence. It moved to inhabit every crack of the room and rang in Scott's head, filled with unease and trepidation. It only came to an end when all three of them heard the sound of Scott's phone vibrating from his back pocket.

He pulled it out and his heart jumped at the sight of the text message with Stiles' name upon it. He almost didn't open it out of sheer fear for what he might read.

But it wasn't something he read that had the claws extending from the ends of his fingers and his heart jumping into his throat, it was something he saw.

Attached was a photograph. A photograph of Stiles. He was laying on a carpeted floor under dim light with his eyes closed. His right cheek was decorated with an ugly bruise and his lip was badly split. But what disconcerted Scott the most was the blood. It soaked his shorts where five puncture marks had been made. The same crimson covered the arm and right side of his jersey. Considering Kate's earlier threats, Scott could only guess the cause of it all to be a bullet. He had to force himself to keep from turning right there and then out of sickness and rage. His stomach twisted and bile rose in his throat.

Beneath the picture, Kate had written: He's still alive. Just passed out, poor thing. But there's an awful lot of blood so I'd hurry if I were you. Show this to the sheriff. I'm sure he'll appreciate the update. Chop chop.

"Scott, what is it?" asked Derek, obviously sensing his rise in panic. The sheriff rose his head and looked at Scott expectantly; fearfully. Scott opened his mouth but didn't know where to begin.

"It's from Kate." he said finally, and his voice was the least sure it had ever been.

"Let me see it." ordered the sheriff, quickly standing up and holding out his hand.

Scott paused, pulling the phone towards him. He couldn't let the sheriff see his son like this. It would only make things so much worse.

"Scott, give me the phone right now." The sheriff stepped forward. Scott looked to Derek. The older werewolf just stared at him blankly.

"Scott." the sheriff's voice had never sounded so dark. Scott didn't move, but then the phone was snatched from his hand regardless and Scott could only watch in horror as the man stared down at the screen, face turning a deadly shade of white as he examined the image of Stiles' broken and bleeding body and took Kate's words in. After a few seconds his hand started to tremble uncontrollably and the phone slipped from his grasp. It hit the carpet with a muffled thud.

"I'll kill her." he said, and for the first time in Scott life the thought of someone's death was totally, unconditionally okay.

Kate Argent was going to die.


Stiles came back around as Kate hooked her arms under his own and lifted him easily before dumping him back onto the couch. His vision immediately blurred and his world clouded over with pain at the movement. His shoulder was burning, throbbing, searing to a point at which was border-lined unendurable.

He remembered the semi-silenced bang, the iron fist crushing the point three inches in from his right armpit where the bullet entered, and then darkness. Darkness to which he wished more than anything he could return. It was a place void of this inescapable agony. Void of anything at all. Only dreams of a past life where werewolves only existed in myth and he still chased after a girl who didn't know he existed. Maybe even his mother would be there, smiling, holding him, comforting him.

It was only the insistent ache that told him his dreams hadn't just transformed into a particularly horrific nightmare, because the haziness suggested as such. It was difficult to focus on anything, or even keep his head up. So he decided not to bother, letting his chin fall onto his chest where he felt the rise and fall of each stinging breath.

A hand tapped his cheek firmly. Then the same hand was upon his shoulder, fingers pressing harshly into the wound there. Stiles immediately shot up, hissing in pain, his throat too raw to yell.

"Wake up." ordered Kate. "I can't have you dying just yet."

She let go and Stiles held back a pained groan. Instead, he gritted his teeth, breathing hard through an onslaught of dizziness.

Kate lifted his phone and wavered it in front of him mockingly.

"I'm sure your father and friends will enjoy the little snaps I sent them. Don't you think?"

It took a second for Stiles to register what she meant, but when he did his stomach curdled and his heart broke it's sluggish pace. He couldn't believe he was putting his father through this again. After the Nogitsune. After everything. It was too much.

"You better hope they work something out soon." said Kate, and Stiles just sat, not sure whether to cry or throw a punch or just pass out again. "That bullet is still lodged in your shoulder. It could do with being removed or this is going to end a whole lot quicker than I'd have hoped."

Stiles struggled to keep his vision focused.

"Screw you." he said, and for some reason he was surprised at how pathetically empty and exhausted he sounded. Kate just looked at him, almost pitifully.

"I'm afraid Derek already did that."

Stiles' head lulled again, but he dragged it back up before Kate could take it upon herself to do so again. His eye lids were heavy and his body cold. The pain seemed to have lessened in his shoulder, however now it formed a more harrowing ache in his head and he screwed his eyes shut in some useless attempt to lessen it. He knew it was down to blood loss, and too much of it.

Kate was right. Scott needed to do something soon. Fatigue was sinking in. And he didn't know how much longer he would last.