"Damnit!" Stiles tried to keep his eyes closed and go back to sleep, but there was no way that was going to happen. He needed to go see Derek!
He got up, pulling on the closest clothes, and ducking out of his room. For a moment he thought he would make it out the door.
"Stiles!" Lydia deflated any hope he had of escaping without a struggle.
"I just have to talk to him." Stiles said, scowling at her while she stood, arms crossed, between him and his escape.
"No! You made me promise not to let you leave unless you were dying." Lydia fixed him with a hard stare.
"Right, yesterday, today I have to see him." Stiles shifted from one foot to another to see if he could get past her.
"Absolutely not, go have breakfast or something." Lydia pointed him towards the kitchen, Stiles slumped, turning towards the kitchen. Lydia rolled her eyes going towards the couch, it was way to early for this. As soon as she turned away Stiles made a mad dash for the door.
"Stiles!" This time she didn't yell so much as scream, directing her voice with her hand and knocking him into the table, and to the floor painfully.
Derek had been pacing his room in frustration, he wanted to go to Stiles and figure out if any of his dream was real. He could still almost taste Stiles on his lips, like generic toothpaste, and cherry poptarts because he was always too absent minded to cook. He'd gone so far as to make himself a poptart. He picked at it absently until something hit him like a ton of bricks.
A sharp pain bloomed from his side, and the air knocked from his lungs. His eyes went blue, and he searched for the cause, but he knew exactly what it was, it was Stiles. Someone had hurt him! Derek slammed though the door, jumping down to the first floor instead of taking the steps. Scott popped off the couch at full alert, it took a second for his brain to catch up.
"Derek?" Scott scrambled to his feet, putting himself between him and the door. Derek let out an inhuman snarl, his eyes glowing blue.
"Move!" He didn't want to hurt Scott, but he would.
"Why? What's wrong?" Scott hadn't seen this kind of anger on Derek in a long time, and it genuinely scared him.
"Something is hurting Stiles." Derek tried to push past him, but Scott shoved him back.
"How do you know that?" Scott's eyes were red, nothing less than his alpha strength could push Derek back.
"I felt it. I can still feel it, it's his side." Derek was shaking with the energy it took to keep his wolf under control.
"Okay, let's just call, and see if he answers first." Scott said with his hands up, trying to look as placating as possible.
"Lydia has his phone."
"How do you… it doesn't matter, she's with him, so she can tell us if he's okay. Right?" Scott took out his phone called Lydia.
"Scott? Did Derek wig out too?" Lydia said as soon as she answered.
"A little, is Stiles okay?" Scott hurried to the point so Derek wouldn't attack him.
"He's fine."
"She hit me with her banshee wail! This house arrest sucks!" Stiles voice interrupted, and even via third person phone conversation Derek heard him. The sound of his voice dropped a huge weight from his shoulders. He slumped down onto his couch.
"Tell the idiot to be more careful, I don't need to get my ass kicked magically because he falls down a flight of stairs." Scott sighed in relief, he was pretty sure he couldn't have stopped Derek if he thought Stiles was hurt.
"Stowe it sour wolf, what happened to having a little faith in me?" Stiles forgot for a moment that the moment he was referring to had only happened in his dream. They were all shocked when Derek didn't have a sarcastic retort. Instead he got up and snatched the phone from Scott.
"My track record doesn't exactly inspire confidence." Derek said the words in a heavy, expectant tone. Stiles looked up at the phone with his mouth hanging open like a fish.
"Really?" Stiles had Lydia's arm to get closer to the phone.
"Really." He whispered, Lydia yanked her arm free.
"What is going on, you two are being weirder than usual?" There was no good answer to that.
"Nothing, I'm just tired." Stiles said, abandoning the phone so he could go see Derek the only way he could at the moment. This self inflicted house arrest was the worst idea they'd ever had.
Outside, observing them for the past three days was the man from the bar. He was immensely pleased with what he saw. They may have his wife, but he knew exactly what to do to change that.
Once the banshee hung up the phone he conjured up a thick fog, raising from the ground and putting them both to sleep before they had time to question it. Derek had gone back to bed as well, but he hadn't expected to get so tired so quickly. He could have resisted, but he wasn't quite suspicious enough for it to occur to him. Stiles sat on his bed, looking up at Derek as he walked in, a thick mist swirling around his feet.
"Tell me that your remembering our dreams means that I can kiss you the next time I see you." Stiles said, holding his hand out to Derek.
"You'd better." Derek stalked forward, straddling Stiles, and crashing down on his lips in a wild, passionate frenzy. Stiles gasped, trying to tangle his fingers in his hair, but his hands wouldn't move. He pulled back looking down at them worriedly.
"What?" He looked self-conscious, as if the problem might be his kissing.
"I can't move. My hands won't move, and niether will my feet." Stiles said, struggling against some invisible bonds.
"Like sleep paralysis?" Derek said, running his hands down to Stiles hands, and twining their fingers together.
"Maybe, or maybe my brain is reacting to some kind of outside stimulus, because my legs feel wet and cold." Stiles was struggling to keep calm, he had his fill of crazy sleep related things with the natsume.
"Okay, so how do you wake yourself up?" Derek wanted to stay in the dream and keep touching him, not if he was scared though.
"Um, raising my heart rate should be enough to wake me." Stiles been a very light sleeper since the natsume. He figured that was what woke him from all his dreams with Derek.
"How else, because your heart is already beating pretty fast?" Derek said, Stiles frowned, going over the ways to wake up.
"Okay, um… blinking, calling out for help in the dream, um, jolting myself awake. Hit me." Stiles said, blinking slowly, Derek didn't question it, Stiles was freaking out, and he would do whatever he needed to help him. Derek slapped him lightly, Stiles shook his head, but didn't wake.
"Harder!" Stiles was pleading with his eyes, Derek cocked back and punched him hard in the nose, and the dream ripped away from them. Stiles was bound at his hands and feet, sitting on a cold, damp stone floor. The room was dark, and the air was musty and thick. He could hear the sound of water dripping. He tugged at his restraints until it hurt, knowing Derek would feel it.
Derek woke up feeling uneasy, the feeling worsened when his wrists started to ache, like something hard was biting into them. He was still dressed, and made a similarly dramatic entrance to the first floor of his apartment as last time.
"Scott call Lydia." Derek said calmly, he needed Scott to understand first so he wouldn't stop him.
"Why?" Derek held out his wrists which even on the arm with the coiled burn marks from the bond he could see the red, raw marks of struggling against restraints. Scott called twice, and no one answered. They were out the door and to Scott and Stiles apartment in record time.
"Where is he?" Derek's voice was less human and more of a growl at this point, and it woke Lydia just as Derek burst into Stiles room.
"What's going on?" Lydia struggled to fully wake up, Derek shut his eyes, breathing deep to catch Stiles sent. The sent he knew by heart.
"Stiles is gone." Scott was following Derek into panic mode rapidly.
"Call Deaton, and figure out if the witch talked. Someone else was in here." Derek said, climbing out Stiles window. He made it about two steps before something hit him in the face hard enough to have him seeing stars. He took three more hits to the stomach, and face while trying to follow the sent before his phone rang.
"I know you can feel his pain wolf, not very smart tying yourself to someone so defenceless." Derek didn't recognise the voice, however in each pause he could hear Stiles whispering something over and over.
"Cold, dark, wet floor, cement walls, industrial, pipes, dripping water, smells like mold." He was trying to figure out where he was and tell him quietly enough not to alert his captor. God he was clever.
"I swear to God if you touch him again I'll rip your spine out through your mouth." Derek's tone was low and deadly while he carefully tracked Stiles scent.
"Oh I'm sure you'd like nothing more, but if I kill him, you die, remember. All I want in return for the twink is my wife. I believe your druid has her. One soulmate for another." He said, Derek slowed down, Stiles' scent was gone.
"I almost forgot, you won't be able to track us down. I'll call back in an hour, I expect you to have my wife." The phone clicked, and Stiles' voice was gone too. Derek turned punching a hole through the hood of a near by car.
"I should have been here!" Derek watched the blood drip from his hand, and his skin knit back together, feeling hollowed out with rage, and fear.
"We'll find him. Stiles is more resourceful than you'd think." Scott put his hand on Derek's shoulder.
Stiles felt a pain spread through his hand like a lance of fire, dying down quickly. Stupid wolf was punching walls. The binds on his hands were plastic zip ties, he stood an okay chance of getting out of them.
"Quality villain speech, maybe next time add a little more Morgan Freemon, and a little less Tom Hanks, I mean it was good, but you came off a little desperate." Stiles said, he needed to annoy the guy enough that he left him alone. The guy cracked him in the jaw, making Stiles teeth clack together, and bite through his lip.
"I can't wait to kill you." Stiles spit out a mouth full of blood, but the guy left, so he'd call it a success. Stiles twisted his hands behind his back to put as much torque on the zip ties as he could before yanking himself forward. He felt the hard plastic cut into his soft skin instead of giving. What he wouldn't give for a teaspoon of Derek's strength right now.
Derek rubbed at his bleeding wrists, while they poured over a map at Deaton's office. His lip had stopped bleeding, so he figured his healing must be helping Stiles too, but it wasn't enough. He needed to find him.
"It has to be industrial, it sounded like he was in some kind of factory, or basement. The floors were wet, and something was dripping so it's probably disused. He said it smelled of mold." Derek started circling buildings that he could be in, unfortunately there were a few of them.
"You should be unconsciously drawn to Stiles, even I you don't know where he is, because of the bond, especially if it's as strong as I suspect it is." Deaton said from the other side of the map.
"Okay, so Scott can take his pack, and split up to check some of the buildings, and I'll start driving, the way Stiles said it worked for Lydia when she was trying to find a body." Derek had never looked so off balance, he would have looked more put together if he was the one kidnapped. Scott hurried to do just that, and Derek fell back against the wall, feeling unstable.
"I can't lose him." Derek finally let himself say the words that scared him since the day he met Stiles.
"I never would have suggested this bond if I had known how much the two of you cared about one another. You both hide it very well." Deaton put his hand on Derek's shoulder comfortingly.
"No, the bond was, is good. Neither one of us would have ever said anything without it. Now how do I find him?" Derek shook himself out of the crushing despair, and tried to focus on what he could do.
"It will be easier as your wolf, it will feel something like tracking chemo signals. Just follow your instincts, I'll follow in the car with the witch." Deaton said, Derek shifted, closing his eyes and letting his wolf guide him. His paws hit a puddle, pulling him out of his blind run. He was by the river, standing in front of an old factory building.
Deaton squealed in behind him, jumping out and holding out his ringing phone. Derek shifted back, completely unphased by his nudity. He grabbed the phone, answering quickly.
"Do you have her?" He asked as soon as the phone was answered, Derek growled.
"Yes, now let me speak to Stiles." Derek said, shifting the phone to look around.
"I don't think so, you know he's alive. Let me speak to my wife, or I'll cut an ear off." Derek closed his eyes against that image.
"If you hurt him I'll have my alpha turn your wife, and sick her on you for the next full moon. Then once she's torn you apart, and can't stand to look at herself in the mirror I'll rip out her throat and watch her bleed out on your corpse." Derek needed him to know that he didn't hold all the cards here.
"Fine, you can speak to your twink, and after you'll put my wife on the phone. Once we both know they're alive I'll tell you were to meet me." The phone fell silent save for the sound of his steps, then dropped to the floor loudly over the sound of a struggle. Derek dropped his phone ripping into his wolf form and dashing into the building.
After the fourth or fifth try Stiles had managed to break free, but he was in a locked room. He had waited, and as soon as the door had opened he jumped the guy. He dropped the phone, and struggled to get the upper hand, but Stiles was wailing on him. He had him on the floor, punching him over and over until a sharp pain in his side stopped him. The guy fell limp, a long knife clattering to the ground.
Stiles stumbled to his feet, falling out the door. Derek's wolf made a low whine, trotting over to him with a slight limp. The small wound on Derek was nothing compared to the gaping hole in Stiles side, and it healed quickly. Stiles reached out, taking Derek's head in his hands and leaning his own against it with a sigh.
A small smile found his lupin lips, and just as he thought it would be okay Stiles fell to the side, white as a sheet.
"Stiles!" Derek shifted back, putting his hand over the wound. Derek pulled him into his arms, running back out to Deaton. Scott and the others were there, but all that mattered was saving Stiles.
"He needs help!" Derek brought him to his car, Deaton was telling Scott to catch the man who did this, and balling up a shirt to keep pressure on the wound while he drove back to his clinic, but all Derek saw was the color draining from Stiles' lips, and the way his blood stuck to Derek's skin, staining it crimson.
Deaton took them to a hospital, he was no physician, and Stiles was human. Derek sat deathly still in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs while the patched him up. Only speaking to assure Stiles' father that he would be fine, and to convince him to go home for the night, because Derek would be there whenever he woke up. He made sure they knew Derek was as good as family before he left, so Derek moved his impression on a statue to Stiles'room.
The second Stiles stirred Derek shot up, leaning over his bed, unsure if he could touch him.
"Derek?" The word left Stiles' lips before he even opened his eyes.
"Hey, hey, I'm here." Derek touched his shoulder gently. Stiles turned with a weak smile.
"Hey." He whispered trying to sit up, Derek leaned into his shoulder keeping him down.
"You were stabbed you idiot, you can't sit up." Derek said before removing his hand.
"There's that sour wolf, you never let me have any fun." Stiles tried to get Derek to smile, because his pained look was not an expression Stiles enjoyed seeing.
"You should heal faster because I'm here, Deaton said being close helped, that's why I stayed. Your dad, and everyone else will be back in the morning. You should get some sleep." Derek moved back to the chair he'd been perched in.
"Right, good idea." Stiles tried not to pout, the last thing he wanted to do right now was sleep, despite being exhausted. Derek knew he wasn't asleep, but he also had no idea how to act around him now. He couldn't go to sleep either, because he knew if he did Stiles would just confront him there.