Scott sighed, running his hand down his face. It was another day of searching and coming up empty, which was getting really old. He tried to focus on the feelings of annoyance, since that was easier to deal with than the worry.

It had been two weeks since anyone had heard from Derek or Isaac. A while back, that wouldn't have even pinged on Scott's radar. He didn't make a habit of keeping track of either of them, but things had changed after the kanima thing. They'd decided to put all their differences aside and work together to find Erica and Boyd, since working together was better than butting heads. It wasn't like Scott had joined Derek's pack or anything, but he could say they had formed a tentative friendship. And Isaac wasn't so bad once you got to know him.

They started meeting at Derek's loft after school got out, plotting their movements and splitting up to look for traces and clues. Derek and Isaac would take one section and Scott and Stiles would take another, spending hours combing through their designated areas. Then they would meet back at the loft and go over anything they found. They were supposed to call with any substantial discoveries, but none had been found yet.

Scott and Stiles had gotten back early that day, sitting around in the loft waiting for the other pair to return. But they never did. Stiles started texting, then switched to calling, then landed on panic. Scott went out alone to check their area, staying on the phone with Stiles the whole time just in case. There was no sign of anything.

Scott had made the hard decision to postpone the search for Erica and Boyd and focus on the newly disappeared. They still weren't sure if the first pair had just taken off like they'd planned or if they were in trouble, but Scott knew in his bones that Derek and Isaac had found some sort of misfortune. Derek had been very insistent on making it back on time and keeping their phones on them, even going so far as to making Stiles charge his phone before they left, not accepting it only being at 80%.

Scott's phone rang in his pocket and his heart gave a little flutter like it always did now when it made a sound. He was always hoping it was news about the missing men, but it never was.

"Hey Stiles, any news?" Scott asked, trying to sound hopeful, but failing miserably.

"No, still nothing," Stiles mumbled, kicking his feet against the dirty floor. Stiles always stopped by the old Hale house multiple times a day, just in case. He said he had a feeling about it and Deaton was always talking about trusting your instincts, so Stiles took it to heart and kept going back. Scott wasn't so optimistic, but he wasn't going to rain on his friend's parade.

"You should probably head home soon. I don't want you out too late," Scott said. He was much more nervous about Stiles going out there alone these days. Stiles was adamant that they split up though, wanting to cover more ground that way, even if it was more dangerous. Scott hated it, but there was no stopping Stiles when he set his mind on something.

"Yeah, I know," Stiles sighed, jingling his keys as he dug them out of his pocket. Scott could hear the sound of the aluminum bat scraping against the floor as Stiles dragged it forlornly alongside him. "When are we going to start searching outside of the woods? There's no way they could be here still and the trail is cold. Maybe we should-" Stiles' words cut off abruptly and Scott immediately perked up in panic.

"What is it?" Scott shouted into the phone. He was already sprinting out the door. They didn't do dramatic pauses for no reason these days.

"Oh my God!" Stiles gasped.

"What?!"

"They're here." Scott cursed as the line went dead, using every bit of werewolf power to boost his speed. He didn't care if anyone saw right now, he needed to get to Stiles as soon as possible. After the longest minutes of his life, he finally broke into the clearing where the old Hale house was. Stiles was standing on the porch in shock, staring at a huddle in front of a nearby tree. He smelled the blood before his eyes could register what he was seeing. Scott sprinted over, needing to be sure they weren't just imagining things.

"Careful!" Stiles called out, hot on his heels. Scott didn't understand the warning until he got closer and heard the growling. Derek was hovering over Isaac protectively with his fangs bared, looking ready to lash out at any moment. They were filthy, with any scrap of clothing they still had on no more than tatters. Scott couldn't even begin to decipher how many different types of blood he could smell on them, but he smelt their own clear as day. He couldn't see any visible injuries on them, but he knew they'd been there before.

"Derek? It's Scott," he said, attempting to break through whatever haze he was in so they could check them over. It wasn't working, Derek's eyes turning a more violent red than Scott had ever seen. He looked poised to kill and Scott wasn't confident he'd be able to stop him if he attacked.

"Let me try," Stiles whispered, ducking down low. Stiles carefully crept forward on his hands and knees, presenting himself as weak and submissive. Scott wanted to snatch him back, afraid he'd get killed in an instant. Stiles held his hand out in front of him, like someone would do with a skittish dog. Derek kept growling, but it got quieter as he started sniffing the air. Scott had never seen him so animalistic, but that was the only way to describe what he was seeing right now. It was like the human side had been stripped away, leaving only the wolf.

"Derek, you know me, okay? It's Stiles and I'm not going to hurt you," Stiles murmured soothingly. He scooted forward a little more, eliciting the first sound out of Isaac. It was the most heartbreaking whining noise Scott had ever heard in his life. It reminded Scott of some of the patients down at the clinic.

Stiles exposed his neck to them both, staying perfectly still so Derek could make the next move. The older man leaned down, still poised to strike, and sniffed at Stiles' delicate skin. Scott tried to keep himself calm so he wouldn't spook them, watching in terror as his friend literally stuck his neck out. Derek pulled back, the slightest hint of recognition flickering in his eyes. He stopped growling, finally looking up and making eye contact with Stiles.

"Help."