Slowly Stiles opened his eyes, they felt like freaking lead and the struggle only became more difficult as the room swam into focus. But it was not the damp concrete walls he first noticed, it was the ice cold and increasingly painful shackles on his hands and feet. With a groan he gently pulled the chains with his arms, no real energy behind the gesture.

"Somebody's finally awake." came a voice in the shadowed part of the room.

For some unfathomable reason Stiles had thought he was alone and subsequently jumped out of his skin which created grooves on his wrists.

"Geez man, what is this?" Stiles murmured languidly, still nauseated from the concussion.

"I need something from you. And I have something for you too." Derek replied coolly, leaning forward so Stiles could see him.

"What the hell could you need from me? I'm not a wolf and I can absolutely say that Scott doesn't have anything either. And I don't really like the sound of whatever present you've got for me so i'll just hang here till Scott finds me." He finally exhaled and forced himself to make eye contact with Derek.

Derek clenched his jaw in annoyance and stood up. His footsteps were slow as he made his way toward the terrified boy until he was close enough to whisper in his ear.

"I can smell your fear Stiles, so you're going to do exactly as I say," Derek's claws grew until they were razor sharp points, he then softly trailed them over Stiles's throat, creating angry lines of unbroken skin. "And I think, the consequence of denying me is quite clear. Don't be stupid."

All the while, Stiles's heartbeat sped up to breaking point and almost cracked his calm facade.

"W-what do you want from..me?" he asked, fighting back a whimper.

"I want Scott in my pack Stiles. I heard you two talking about it and you're the one that will convince him for me. Bad times are coming Stiles. And I need him."

"What about the-the thing you 'have for me'. I hope it's gift wrapped."

"Oh yes." Derek replied as a snarl rolled from his chest.

He threw his head back and howled viciously as his claws elongated and teeth became daggers in his mouth. When he opened his eyes they were blood red and sneering, anger exuding from his pores.

A smirk danced on his mouth. "You got me arrested. Don't you remember how fun that was? Well I think I should pay you back, and have a little fun with you."

Stiles could only stare as claws raked down his chest, leaving bloody trails in their wake. The air filled with the metallic scent of blood, his blood. With Derek's other hand he dug his claws into the younger boys shoulder, puncturing deeper as a look of pain contorted Stiles's face.

Before long, Stiles's shirt was in tatters. The remaining once white material was painted dark red while Stiles continued to moan and writhe in agony.

With one fist Derek ripped off what was left of Stiles's shirt, admiring his handy work with excited eyes, the red brighter than Stiles had ever seen.

The pale skin was sliced and bloody lines were carved across his collarbone, red liquid continued to pulse from some wounds whilst others trickled a steady line of warm, thick blood.

Stiles's eyes were half lidded, presumably from the blood loss.

"Look on the bright side Stiles, i'm about half finished with you."

A weak groan emanated from his prisoner's throat, causing Derek to smile, if only for a second.

Derek pressed their bodies together, trying to send shock waves of pain through Stiles's chest by pressing at the raw wounds. He reached his hand downward and planted it on his thigh. He was just about to sink his claws into the younger boys flesh when he felt something hard against his leg.

Derek inhaled deeply, breathing in all the scents surrounding him. Blood overpowered almost everything. Almost. He detected an undercurrent of fear, anger and -what the fuck- arousal.