If You're Going Through Hell

A/N: Shout out to Sherlock for your wonderful review. Thank you so much, and I hope you (and anyone else who makes it to this page) enjoys the story! That said, I'll give you a quick note of warning: the first scene of this chapter is going to be pretty rough. The quote that inspired this story is going to be rather important, even if it isn't said aloud. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 12: Beta Blocker

All at once, everything for the four boys shifted. As they stepped forward, it felt like they were shrinking, or the world around them was growing, until they were barely more than a few inches tall compared to the room around them. The screaming and shouting came from the floor above them, along with the sounds of glass and furniture being smashed to pieces and thrown around.

"What's going on?" Nolan cried out, inching closer to Stiles and Derek out of fear.

"Did we just…shrink?" Scott asked, turning to Stiles.

"What are you looking at me for?" Stiles asked, throwing his hands in the air. "How should I know what's going on?"

"Well, you seem to be the expert on the Limbo world, and figuring things out in general," Scott replied with a lopsided smile. Stiles just shook his head and began walking along the wall near the hole they had crawled out of, examining it and muttering under his breath. Nolan trailed behind him, apparently reluctant to let him get too far away.

"That's Isaac's voice," Derek said through clenched teeth as another ear-piercing scream reached them. "And his father."

"But why would Isaac be going through that here? He's a werewolf now, he can get away easily." Scott mused, watching Stiles and Nolan from his position.

"He might not remember that," Stiles said while bending over to look at something on the ground in the corner.

"What do you mean?" Nolan asked, leaning over Stiles' shoulder to see what he was examining.

"The demons are sadistic creatures. They enjoy inflicting pain on the people here, and while it doesn't really seem to matter to them who they torture specifically, from what I can tell they do like to pick on the people who suffered a lot in life."

"People like Isaac," Scott finished for him.

Stiles gave an affirmative grunt and continued his examination, grimacing at the sounds coming from above them. "They could have forced Isaac to forget about his time with us and return to the time when he was alone and his dad was abusing him. As far as that goes, they might have put Isaac and his dad back together, and this is what's happening."

"So what do we do?" Derek asked.

"I'm not sure," Stiles said thoughtfully, returning to where he and Scott were standing to examine the entrance to the cave they had crawled out of. "We'll have to undo the demon magic on ourselves before we will be able to do much of anything to help Isaac."

"Demon…magic?" Nolan quivered, eyes darting between his new friends. Derek scowled while Scott gave an inquisitive look.

"Well, yeah. I can feel it now that I'm looking for it. The cave we crawled through has a spell on it – basically, we've turned into mouse-sized humans, and the cave is now our mouse hole."

"What?" all three of them shouted at him.

"And," Stiles continued, as though they hadn't said anything, "if we don't lift the spell soon, we'll eventually turn into actual mice."

"You've got to be joking," "Stiles, this is absolutely ridiculous," "What are we going to do?" all three began talking at once, only to be silenced by the door at the top of the stairs (which looked more like a stair-shaped mountain from their perspective) slammed open. Mr. Lahey appeared, dragging Isaac by the neck. The older man was red in the face and clearly drunk, while Isaac was bloodied, bruised, and whimpering.

"You're a no good, worthless piece of trash!" Mr. Lahey shouted, the words echoing around the basement. The wolves in their pack cringed away from the sound, amplified even more due to their small size.

"We need to get out of sight," Stiles said quietly, beckoning the others to follow him underneath a work table set up in the corner where they could watch without being seen.

"I hate you!" Isaac's father bellowed, letting go. Isaac dropped to the ground at his feet.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I promise I'll do better in the future!" Isaac didn't look up, instead directing his words at his father's shoes.

"You think that's good enough? You've destroyed half the house! Saying your sorry isn't going to fix it," Mr. Lahey gestured wildly as he spoke, looking at everything but his son on the floor.

"Dad, please!" Isaac begged, looking up slightly. It was the wrong move to make.

"Don't call me that! You ain't no son of mine," he retorted, rearing back and kicking Isaac in the stomach. The force of the kick propelled the young man forward, careening over the ledge to tumble down the stairs. The four friends watched in horror as Isaac's head collided with the solid ground next to them. He was in too much pain to open his eyes and look at them though. Instead, he curled himself into a tight ball, silently crying and clutching what looked like a broken wrist.

"Get up!" Isaac's father called as he stomped down the staircase. "Get up you useless piece of crap. A real man doesn't just lie on the ground and cry!" He was on top of Isaac before he could react, grabbing him by the neck and dragging him to his feet. Isaac cried out in pain, but this just angered his father even more. Mr. Lahey shoved him up against the wall, holding him in place by the neck. Isaac began to choke, his eyes going wide with fear.

"Da…ad?" Isaac tried, but he couldn't get enough air into his lungs to say any more. He pleaded with his expressions and struggled to pull the hand off his throat with his uninjured one, but it didn't work.

"You…have caused…every bad thing that has happened to this family," Mr. Lahey seethed, his grip tightening. "Your mother's death…your brother's death…me losing my school job…all of it is your fault. I wish you had never been born!" He shouted the last sentence at the top of his lungs, dragging Isaac forward and throwing him to the ground again. Isaac quickly scooted away, cowering in on himself in the corner.

"I'm sorry," he rasped, still trying to get air back into his lungs, "I'm sorry! Please, dad, please stop."

"Why should I?" Mr. Lahey was on him instantly, dragging him to his feet again, this time by his hair. "You destroyed everything. And you're still doing it. I should kill you and be done with it. Dump your body in that grave we just finished digging when it's time to bury the casket and tell the police that my good-for-nothing son ran away. Then I wouldn't have to listen to you whine or look at your stupid face!" He lifted Isaac up slightly higher with the hand still clutched to his hair while balling his other hand up in a fist. He sneered at the pleading look in his son's face before punching Isaac in the groin as hard as he could. He then let go, allowing Isaac to drop to the ground once more, where he curled up into a fetal position.

Mr. Lahey left him there for a moment, going over to his work bench and pulling down a bottle of whiskey. He took a giant swig, emptying it of its contents, then threw the bottle at the wall above Isaac, where it shattered and rained glass down on the injured boy. Isaac didn't even flinch, instead remaining where he was, tears flowing freely as he did his best not to make any noise. Mr. Lahey snorted in disgust, walking back over to his son and leering down at him.

"You're pathetic," he said, no longer shouting. He cleared his throat and spat at Isaac's head, kicking him in the stomach again to force him to look up at him. "I think I need to put you in time out, maybe that will toughen you up."

Isaac instantly cringed away, his tears stopped and the expression on his face was pure terror. Scott and Derek could smell the change as well, fear radiating off of the young man in torrents. "No, no, no, no, please no, you don't have to do that, please dad, anything but that, please!" Isaac continued to beg and plead as his father grabbed him by his broken wrist and dragged him to his feet. Isaac didn't even flinch in pain as he continued his pleas uninterrupted, getting louder and more intense as his father dragged him over to the old freezer on the other side of the basement. "Please, dad, no, don't do this. I promise I'll be good, I won't do anything bad, I promise, please dad, just please, let me go. I'll leave and never come back if that's what you want, I'll do whatever you want, but please don't do this!" He dragged his feet and tried to pull his injured wrist out of his father's grip, but Mr. Lahey was stronger and yanked him forward.

"Get in, Isaac," he said calmly, shoving his son forward slightly and crossing his arms across his chest.

Tears began to well up in Isaac's eyes again as his gaze quickly darted between his father and the freezer. "Please," his voice went quiet, barely more than a whisper, and his whole body trembled fiercely. "Please don't do this again. Please."

"Get in the damn freezer! Don't make me tell you again, or it'll be worse!" Mr. Lahey shouted, pushing against Isaac's chest and forcing him to stumble up against the freezer. Isaac let out a whimper that cut to the heart of all four of the boys hidden under the table nearby, watching helplessly as their friend slowly climbed into the freezer, still begging his father to let him go. Mr. Lahey ignored him, slamming the lid down and barely missing Isaac's fingers. He attached the chains around the edges with practiced ease, locking everything into place with a padlock as Isaac began to pound on the inside walls of the freezer in desperation. "Shut up, or I'll leave you in there to rot for good!" Isaac went quiet, though the werewolves could still hear him crying and the erratic, too-fast beating of his heart. Lock in place, Mr. Lahey turned without a word and trundled back up the stairs, slamming and locking the door at the top.

"Quick, Derek, we need to get up there and get that lock off of the freezer!" Scott shouted, dashing forward into the room the moment Isaac's dad was safely upstairs.

"Scott, wait!" Stiles called after him as he and the others followed a little behind him.

"No, we have to rescue him!"

"But I'm not sure it'll work."

"What do you mean?" Scott turned to look at his best friend, expression pained in sympathy for Isaac.

"I don't think we just shrunk. I'm pretty sure our strength and everything else shrunk with us."

"Stiles, what are getting at?" Derek asked, struggling to not shift into werewolf mode.

"I'm saying, I'm not sure a were-mouse is going to be strong enough to get through those chains. And even if you can, what happens after that? How do you think Isaac will react to being rescued by a couple of four-inch tall people?" Stiles stood his ground against the wolves, Nolan looking back and forth between them.

"What, then, do you suggest we do?" Derek asked through clenched teeth.

"Let me see if I can break this spell and return us to normal size. It'll make freeing Isaac, and reminding him of who he really is, a whole lot easier," Stiles answered, turning to dart off back towards the mouse-hole entrance before any of them could say anything else. The others stared at one another for a moment before following after him.

"Hold on in there, Isaac, we're coming for you buddy," Scott called out as he ran past the edge of the freezer.

-o-

"Is it just me, or did they get even weirder while we were gone?" Corey asked quietly as they stepped through the magical barrier surrounding the Nemeton.

"Yeah, a little. I guess it makes sense though, they've both been through a lot," Mason replied in a whisper, squeezing his boyfriend's hand slightly. Corey returned the gesture with a small smile.

"What does that mean for us then?" he asked, pausing once they were outside the clearing to glance around and figure out which way they needed to go.

"We've been through a lot too," Mason said, watching Corey's movements. "I imagine we've probably changed even more than we realize."

"Maybe," Corey said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "This way is north," he added, pointing down a narrow path before slowly starting to follow it.

"Keep your eyes peeled and your senses on high alert, we don't want to accidentally walk into a trap or stumble across any hunters."

"You don't have to tell me, I was already on edge before we set out to do this." They paused for a moment, having a wordless conversation with their facial expressions.

"It's the right thing to do, you know that," Mason finally said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I just…we both died because of this pack. I like them, they're our friends and I don't mind helping them, but we've barely been alive for a couple of hours and we're already putting our lives on the line for them. We said, you said, that things were going to be different this time." Corey had to look away as he spoke, afraid of how his boyfriend would respond.

"And I meant it, things will be different…better. But it won't happen if we just sit and hide. We will have to fight for the changes we want to see in the world. Maybe not physically; I mean, we're contributing right now by helping to bring Nolan back. But, whatever form it takes, we'll have to work for it. And I think it will be worth it in the end. As long as we are together, it will always be worth it," Mason grabbed Corey's other hand as he spoke, turning him to look him in the eye once more. Corey's resolve strengthened as Mason spoke – still not entirely convinced, but much more willing to go with his boyfriend's plan anyway.

"I love you," Corey said, melting into Mason's embrace and humming softly at the comfort he found there.

"I love you too, Cor," Mason added, tightening their hug and drawing Corey closer to himself. The two remained in contemplative silence and peace for a couple of minutes until a faint rustling sound in the trees alerted Corey that they were no longer alone. He tensed up, silently pulling Mason off the path to stand behind some bushes so they wouldn't accidentally be run into while invisible. The rustling became more distinct, and eventually Corey was able to determine two men were walking down the path.

"So, what do you think she's up to?" they heard one of them ask as they got closer.

"Who knows anymore. I swear, Monroe has gone insane. She's convinced that Scott McCall's pack is going to launch some huge strike against her," the other replied.

"How is that supposed to work?" the first asked derisively as they passed by where Corey and Mason were hiding. "McCall is dead, and so's basically his entire pack. What does she think they're going to do, come back as ghosts or something and haunt us?"

"How the hell should I know," the second man said, throwing his arms up in the air. "Ever since those guys came running back screaming about some talking mist showing up at that stupid giant tree stump she's obsessed with, she's been acting like the Apocalypse is going to come. I swear, if I wasn't being paid so well, I'd ditch this whole thing now and go back to working for the construction company."

"Yeah, I hear ya," the first said, voice becoming indistinct as they moved further away. "Still, if they're all dead, it's not like we have anything to really worry about. Let Monroe beef up patrols and security. At the end of the day, it just means a bigger paycheck for us." They could just barely hear the second man agreeing as their voices drifted away too far to be heard.

"Monroe is increasing security?" Corey asked, pulling Mason back out from the bushes and onto the path.

"And she knows something is going on, although I doubt she knows what exactly," Mason replied, grimacing.

"Well, then we better hurry," Corey said, not waiting for a reply as he took off down the path.

"Wait, the Nemeton is the other way," Mason called out as he was half-dragged along.

"I know that, but we have a job to finish before we can go back to safety," Corey replied. Mason smiled at that, shaking his head slightly as he got his feet back under him properly and came alongside his boyfriend.

"You really have changed," he said, darting a sideways glance at Corey briefly.

"Yeah, I guess I have," Corey said simply, not taking his eyes off the path. "Look, there's the tool shed," he added, stopping a short distance away.

"And there's Monroe's extra security," Mason finished, surveying the dozen men walking around under the floodlights that had been set up in the area, all armed to the hilt with various weapons.

-o-

"Have you figured it out yet? Can you get us back to regular size and break the spell? Are we going to be forced to live the rest of our afterlives as rodents?" Nolan asked, growing hysterical as he watched Stiles, who was methodically tracing over some rune-like markings he had found on the wall of the cave they had crawled through to reach the Lahey basement.

"Nolan, maybe you should bring it down a notch," Scott said, placing a comforting hand on the teen's shoulder, though his facial expression said clearly that he wanted to ask all of the same questions.

"This is so weird," they heard Stiles mumbling to himself as he continued to investigate the runes. "There's no way these two things should be able to go together. I should be the only one."

"What are you talking about, Stiles?" Derek asked, hunching down to get a closer look at whatever was so perplexing. Stiles by this point had lain down on the ground, tracing the runes on the ceiling of the cave entrance with an outstretched arm. He scooted forward, allowing Derek to extend a hand out and help him up to his feet.

"Well, Stiles? What do you think?" Scott asked, alarmed that his voice was starting to take on a higher pitch. Nolan had begun to grow what looked like mouse whiskers, which he kept subconsciously stroking, and Derek's skin had slowly begun to break out in fur.

"This spell shouldn't be possible," Stiles answered, adjusting his pants slightly to let a tail out over the waistband in the back that had started to grow. "There, that's better. Anyways, it's using a combination of both Druid and demon magic to work."

"But isn't that what you do?" Derek asked, scratching at his furry arm.

"Yeah, but I thought I was the only one who could combine the two. You have to have access to both forms of power in order to use them both. This must mean there is another Druid out there who has taken over a demon the way I have. Either that, or somehow I put this spell here and can't remember doing it," Stiles seemed to be seriously perplexed, lost in thought. "Do you think there's any possibility of me remembering something that I can't remember doing, if I am actually the one who did it without remembering doing it?"

"Um…what?" Nolan asked, thoroughly confused, staring down a nose that had grown and become mousy.

"Never mind that right now," Scott squeaked, his voice becoming higher pitched with every word. "Can you undo it?"

"What? Oh…yeah, I think so," Stiles went silent, swinging his now full-length tail around absently like a jump-rope. "Let's try this," he finally said, strolling over to lie back down on the floor underneath the cave entrance. He used a finger that now looked like a claw to scratch at the runes, muttering in some foreign language under his breath. He continued muttering the incantation as he stood back up, shifting into demon form as he did so and raising his hands outstretched towards his friends. His voice rose in volume as he spoke, until he was nearly shouting the words that only he could understand. Finally, his eyes flashed silver as he stared upwards and a blinding white light enveloped all of them. They were knocked to the ground, a tangled mass of limbs as the light dissipated.

"Ow, will you get your hand off of that!" Scott called out, voice back to being masculine and human sounding.

"Hey, we're back to normal!" Nolan said, rolling off of Scott and standing up.

"Well, I don't know if any of us could ever have been considered normal," Stiles replied, placing a hand on Derek's chest to push himself off of the ground. "But, we are back to the way we were."

"Ha, ha, you're hilarious," Derek said, also rising to his feet and checking himself over. "But I am glad to not be covered in fur anymore."

"But you get covered in fur all the time when you switch to wolf-mode," Stiles said quizzically, tilting his head to look at Derek.

"Wolf fur and mouse fur are two completely different things," was all Derek said in response.

"Um, guys. I don't think we are going to be able to leave the way we came in," Nolan said, looking around the room before pointing at the still mouse-sized hole in the wall at their feet.

"That's probably for the best," Stiles replied, stooping down to examine the hole once again. "I don't know what would have happened if we allowed the spell to be put on us again."

"Hello? Dad, is that you? Who's there?" The sound of Isaac's voice froze them all in place as they remembered the full weight of where they were and what had been going on.

"Isaac!" Scott shouted, darting over to the freezer. "Hold on, we're going to get you out of there." The others quickly joined him as Scott crushed the padlock with his bare hands and fumbled to undo the chains. With a mighty heave, he and Derek ripped the lid off of the freezer completely, and all four of them stood around the edge, peering in at a very lost, beaten, and confused looking Isaac. He had scrunched himself up, wrapping his arms around his legs tightly and tentatively supporting his broken wrist. Blood splattered the walls and floor of the freezer where he had scraped and scratched against it in previous attempts to get out. His lip was bleeding, along with several cuts and scrapes on his face and arms. A massive black eye had nearly swollen his left eye shut completely, and his nose looked to be bent at an odd angle. Derek and Scott could tell there were more bruises and injuries hidden under his clothes, and the sight of him made them all sick to their stomach.

"Come on bud, let's get you out of there," Stiles said with a grimace, holding a hand out for Isaac to take. The blond didn't take it though, instead flinching away slightly as though afraid the hand might hurt him as he stared at each of them. Stiles quickly withdrew it and instead turned to Scott and gave him a look.

"Who…who are y-you?" Isaac asked tentatively, trying to examine them without actually making eye-contact or looking at any of them directly.

"We're your friends, Isaac. We're here to get you out of here," Scott said, slowly reaching in as well. Isaac watched his hand with trepidation, scrunching himself up further until he couldn't back away anymore.

"I…I don't…I don't have any…f-friends," Isaac stuttered out, never taking his eyes off Scott's hand as it slowly made its way to his shoulder. A spasm went through his entire body at the touch, and he shut his eyes tightly, preparing himself for the pain. When it didn't come, he opened his eyes wide and stared in shock at the black veins appearing on the hand and the feeling of pain being siphoned out of his body.

"What are you?" Isaac asked, turning his gaze away from the hand to finally look up into it's owner's face. Scott gave him a warm smile that seemed to relax him slightly, though he remained tense and distrustful.

"I'm a werewolf," Scott calmly replied. Isaac didn't outwardly react to that statement, though his eyes did dart to the others as if gauging how they responded. "And so are you," Scott added. This did earn him a look of incredulity from the blond boy.

"I'm…what? I'm not a werewolf. Why would you say that?" Isaac turned away, a look of betrayal and anxiety replacing the slightly hopeful one he'd been wearing.

"Because it's true," Scott said, bending forward so he could lean in closer to the young man and place a hand on his shoulder once more. "You've just forgotten for a little bit." Isaac turned to look up at Scott, and as he did so Scott flashed his alpha-red eyes at him. Isaac's eyes briefly glowed golden in response. It seemed to take him by surprise before he grunted in pain and clutched his head with both hands. Scott straightened up, watching with concern as Isaac writhed in agony, shifting back and forth between wolf and human forms. Finally, he went still, eyes closed and breathing ragged, and the other four all drew in for a closer look, noticing first that his wounds were healed. He opened his eyes slowly, as though waking from a deep sleep.

"Scott?" Isaac mumbled, looking vaguely in the alpha's direction. "Scott, is that you? Where am I?"

"Yeah, it's me," Scott breathed out with a sigh of relief. "Let's get you up on your feet." Scott grabbed one arm while Stiles grabbed the other, and together they hoisted Isaac to his feet and helped him out of the freezer. As they did so, their surroundings changed. The basement grew cold and dusty and dilapidated, as though no one had been in it for years. He looked around at it, then at his friends.

"Its so good to see you guys!" Isaac cried out, voice hitching slightly in his throat as he threw one arm around Scott's shoulder and the other around Stiles', dragging them both in for a tight hug.

"I missed you too, buddy," Stiles said, returning the embrace. "Although, I'm also going to miss my ribs if you keep squeezing so tightly."

"Oh, sorry," Isaac said, sheepishly, as he let go of them both. Scott rubbed a hand across Isaac's shoulder while Stiles massaged his ribcage. "Derek!" Isaac shouted, noticing that the older man was there as well, standing off to the side and watching with an amused expression on his face. The amusement turned to concern as Isaac jumped towards him, wrapping him up in a tight hug and lifting him off of the ground to spin him in circles.

"Hi Isaac…it's good to see you too…now, can you please put me down," Derek said, looking rather uncomfortable by the display of emotion.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm just so excited! It's been so long," Isaac said happily, grinning from ear to ear. He turned to look at the remaining person in the room, Nolan, who had backed himself up against a wall to stay out of the way during the reunion. "Hi there. I don't know who you are." Isaac waved tentatively, turning to look at Scott. "Is he part of…us?" He asked.

"Yes," Scott replied firmly, which drew a small smile from the newcomer. "Isaac, this is Nolan."

"Nice to meet you," Isaac said, extending a hand to the younger boy to shake. "So, what's going on?" Isaac asked, staring back at the basement once more with disdain.

"Well Isaac," Stiles said, grinning as he swung an arm over the wolf's shoulder to the groans of Scott and Derek. "Let me officially welcome you…to Hell!"