Thanks to Peter's warning, Stiles was not surprised when Cora cornered him in the morning. He'd not expected to get jumped before he'd gotten out of his car, though. He'd barely brought his jeep to a halt when Cora yanked the door open and slipped into the passenger seat.

"Morning," she greeted him with a toothy smile.

"It's too early for this," Stiles groaned and let his head rest on the steering wheel. Maybe if he didn't look at her she would go away. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to be here on time?"

"Uncle Peter told me that you stopped aging." Cora ignored him. "How does one just stop aging?"

Stiles peeked at her over his arm still resting on the steering wheel.

"Uncle Peter wouldn't tell me, he said that I have to ask you. So I'm asking you." She looked at him as if she actually expected an answer.

"So you did." Stiles sat up again, he didn't want to go into school with the imprint of the steering wheel on his forehead. "Nice talk but I don't want to be late on my second day."

Stiles reached for the door but Cora grabbed his other arm, holding him back.

"Why don't you want to tell me?"

"Because it's none of your business." Stiles yanked his arm free.

"Was it bad?"

Stiles took a deep breath but he felt the tightness around his ribs. He could almost taste the water in the back of his throat.

Cora backed off. She must have picked up on some of that, his heart was beating quicker than it should and Stiles didn't even want to know what his scent was telling her.

"I'm sorry," Cora mumbled, watching him with wary eyes as if she expected him to have a panic attack any second now. Stiles took another breath and exhaled slowly, counting to ten in his head. It helped.

"Is that answer enough?" Stiles asked and reached for the door again. This time she didn't hold him back.

"What about Kate?" She got out of the car as well.

"What about her?"

"Uncle Peter says that she's one of the hunters in town." She lowered her voice, they weren't the only ones in the parking lot. "And that you're here to keep an eye on her."

Stiles nodded. Peter had also told him to keep an eye on Cora but he didn't feel the need to point that out.

"You sure she's a hunter?" Cora asked. "She's been here as a teacher for months now and she hasn't done anything wrong. Why would she waste her time teaching English at a small town High School?"

"That's what we need to find out."

"Hey, Stiles!" He was saved by Scott who was waving at him to get his attention. "Over here."

"Gotta go, see you in class." With that he jogged over to Scott.

"Was that Cora?" Scott craned his neck to look past Stiles but by then Cora had disappeared in the crowd heading towards the entrance. "Why are you driving Cora to school?"

"It's not what it looks like?" Stiles squinted at him but then the bell rang and they had to hurry to get to class.

Having Scott attached to his hip helped to blend in, Stiles found out. Kate was still suspicious of him but she couldn't prove that he was not who he claimed to be. However, neither could he. Kate seemed to be just a teacher.

On Monday Stiles even managed to have a look at Kate's desk but if she kept evil werewolf hunting stuff at school, it was not in her desk. Frustrated Stiles had a look around the classroom but there was nothing else to find.

Stiles ducked out of the room, he did not want anybody to see him in there, and breathed easier once he was out in the hallway again.

"Why are you smelling of Peter?" Erica was suddenly blocking his way.

Because we fucked each other' brains out last night, would have been the correct answer but Stiles caught himself before the words bubbled out of his mouth. Boyd came up behind him and without a word he grabbed Stiles by the collar.

"Hey!" Stiles protested but let them drag him out of the building. He knew that he couldn't fight them off and he didn't want to cause a scene. The memory of that back alley where Johnathan's goons had ambushed him so long ago flashed in the back of his mind. Stiles forced himself to breathe slowly in and out.

At least Erica seemed to notice that he was not comfortable with the situation and put an arm around his shoulders so that they were walking more comradely and it didn't feel that much like an abduction any longer.

They were heading out to the bleachers, of course. It was as remote as one could get at school. Boyd and Erica liked to come out here to make out.

"Why are you smelling of Peter?" Erica repeated the question once they were alone and out of sight. "How do you even know him?"

"We're friends," Stiles said and wound himself out from under her arm.

"You're the sheriff's nephew," Boyd spoke up. "That Stiles kid."

"That's me." He gave them his best grin. As far as Stiles knew he was the only new kid the school had seen in months, of course everybody knew him.

"What …," Boyd started a question but then his head shot up and he was scanning the tree line.

Stiles didn't have werewolf senses but when Erica was doing the same, he knew that there was something out there. Or someone.

"What is it?" He asked when suddenly there was a dart stuck in Erica's neck. Tranq dart, Stiles brain provided but before he could do anything, there was a similar dart embedded in Boyd's neck.

"Shit." Stiles managed to catch Erica when she went down but Boyd fell like a sack of potatoes.

"Shit, shit, shit," Stiles muttered while he laid Erica down as quickly as possible without letting her head smash to the ground. The second he had a hand free, he was searching for his phone.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, someone came running over to them but Stiles didn't even have time to get up. A fist connected with his temple and the phone slipped out of his hand.

Not again, Stiles thought and then everything went dark.

Stiles came to kicking.

With a scream he tried to break free before he even had his eyes open. A sharp lance of pain shot through his shoulders, waking him up completely. Breathing heavily he tried to keep the rising panic under control while he took stock of his surroundings. His hands were bound over his head and as long as he was not kicking, his toes touched the ground. Barely.

"Where are we?" Stiles asked when he spotted Boyd and Erica in a similar predicament. Like him they were hanging by chains around their wrists but they got a special treatment with wires stuck into their sides. From this angle Stiles couldn't see the controls but one look at the two werewolves, Erica's face was scrunched in pain and Boyd was grunting under his breath, and Stiles knew that it was dialed up high.

"Dunno," Boyd brought out through gritted teeth while Stiles took in more of the room. Some basement which could be anywhere but that didn't matter because there was a sink in the corner.

"These fuckers tranqed us." Erica's eyes tried to flash golden but she didn't manage more than a weak flicker.

"That was just the start." Suddenly a man stood in the door. Boyd growled at him but the man ignored him when he came down the stairs.

"You followed me the other day." He came directly over to Stiles and grabbed him by the chin to have a better look at his face. Now Stiles recognized him, the hunter he'd run into at the mall. Daniel Page.

"Couldn't believe my eyes when I saw you with these animals."

He let go of Stiles' face and the next second his fist connected with Stiles' flank. Stiles didn't even have time to catch his breath, the guy was using him as a punching bag. Helplessly Stiles swung with the punches, his feet scratching over the concrete floor.

"Do I have your attention now?" Page stopped punching him and Stiles got his feet under him again. Head hanging he tried to catch his breath. He might have cracked a rib or two, breathing hurt like a bitch and Stiles blinked against the gray edges in his vision.

"How do you fit in, hmm?" The hunter ducked his head to look Stile in the eye. "You're not a wolf and you're not pack either, aren't you?"

Now Stiles lifted his head to glare at him.

"Fuck you!"

It got him a punch to the face. Stiles was seeing stars and he tasted blood and for a moment the world just spun around him. But then the hunter steadied him again.

"Heard you have a crush on that werewolf brat." Page grabbed his face and forced him to look at him.

"I'm going to kill Peter for spreading that rumor," Stiles muttered while the man was still squishing his face.

"Good advice, stay away from these animals."

"Too late for that." Stiles barked out a laugh. The left side of his face felt swollen.

Stiles glanced over to the sink. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious but he did know that he only had to hold on for a little while longer. "What time is it? I have a curfew."

"We made sure that not even a werewolf can follow us." Page grinned at him. "Don't get your hopes up, nobody will come for you. Not in time."

"In time for what?" Erica asked but the man ignored her. Instead he rammed his knee into Stiles' stomach.

"That's what gets you off?" Stiles gasped out once he was able to breathe again. "Torturing teenagers?"

His shoulders were screaming in agony but he needed a moment to get back onto his toes. It was only a second of relief before the man hit him again.

Stiles didn't want to scream but he did. And then he didn't any longer but the man kept hitting him. Sometimes he stopped to ask him a question but he didn't seem particularly interested in the answer.

Stiles was hanging heavily from the chains. They were cutting so deep into his wrists, he didn't even feel his hands any longer. He was pretty sure that his left shoulder was dislocated and by now several ribs were broken for sure. Stiles didn't even want to think about internal bleeding. His left eye was swollen shut and his vision blurred but he kept glancing at the sink in the corner.

Anytime would be great now, Derek, he thought while in the background, Boyd and Erica were both pleading for the hunter to stop. He didn't.

But then, finally, Stiles caught something in the corner of his eye. The faucet started to move.

"Last chance, asshole." He gave Page a bloody grin. "Let us go."

"Or what?" The man cocked his head, clearly amused.

"Or you die." Stiles wasn't even looking at him any longer, his good eye was on Derek who was closing the distance to the hunter with quick strides.

Page even managed a half-turn so see what was coming up behind him but then Derek's hand closed over his face.

Stiles watched grimly when Derek slung his other arm around the man's torso, holding him close, while he kept his watery hand firmly over the guy's mouth and nose. Page struggled but he didn't stand a chance against Derek.

"Stiles?" Derek asked. He'd never liked killing people, Stiles knew that but what he was seeing in Derek's dark eyes now was way beyond what he'd ever seen in them. These were the eyes of a monster. When Stiles met his eyes he knew that his matched Derek's. He wanted this man dead.

"Finish him."

Derek didn't have to be told twice. In a swift move he lifted the man up and slammed him down on the concrete floor, knocking the wind out of him. Stiles heard bones crack with the impact.

Page screamed, muffled by the water filling his airways. His struggle became weaker already.

Eventually he stopped moving.

"Fatality," Erica broke the eery silence which ghosted a smile on Stiles' split lip.

Derek kept his hand over the man's face for a little while longer, making sure, but then he hurried over to Stiles.

He ripped the chains apart but caught him gently when Stiles collapsed.

"Stiles?"

Derek's cool hand felt nice on his abused face and Stiles leaned into the wet touch. He could let go now, Derek was here.

"Hey, Johnny Cage," Erica called out to them. Right, they weren't alone. "A little help here?"