There came the bubble of water behind him. Stiles whipped around and held his bat tighter. His clothes were drenched in the near knee-deep water. Why didn't I tell the pack that I found the mermaid's main lake? Why did I go alone? I promised that I was going to make lasagna tonight. Why did I go in the lake? What if it kills me? Why didn't I at least wear rain boots? I can't make lasagna when I am dead. Didn't Boyd need help on his homework? He felt something grabbing at the hem of his jeans, trying to pull him towards the deeper water. He kicked at it. Bad idea. Claws slashed at his shins and ankles. Stiles slipped on some vegetation, his head hitting the mushy bank. Stars filled his vision as he was swiftly dragged further into the water. Talons digging into his ankle. He blacked out.
Derek paced around the living room, most of the pack gathered by either the dining room or the door. Stiles wasn't here, but the pack meeting ended an hour ago. He texted the group chat that he might miss the meeting, but said nothing about the pack bonding after. They wanted to call him, but Stiles made sure to note to not call him unless "Someone got their arm torn off.". Everyone was getting anxious, they ordered some pizza, but everything felt wrong. Scott couldn't handle the silence any more. He came up to Derek and gave him a look. Derek nodded and Scott left on his motorcycle. Lydia tried helping Boyd with his homework, but kept losing her patience and eventually walked away to make coffee. He never showed.
Scott drove to the Stilinski house and climbed in through his window. He looked around, nothing. He sniffed, nothing fresh. He listened for a heart beat, not a single thump. Scott jumped down, checking the driveway. The familiar old jeep was nowhere to be seen. He took out his phone and sent a message to the pack, "Stiles isn't home, I'm going to keep searching." He hopped on his bike again and drove off.
Everyone was teeming with anxiety because it was a school night they eventually had to leave, but there was still no sign of Stiles. They called him at least 30 times each but still nothing, he never goes this long without checking his phone. Scott searched all his usual places, but not a trace. Most of them couldn't sleep, but Derek promised that he would search in the morning.
Derek's wolf was screaming at him. He lost his potential mate, who knows where he could be or how he was doing. He knew he had to keep a level head for the pack, but he was barely holding himself together. There were random killings because of something that they had barely scratched the surface on. There were still hunters hiding in plain sight. Not to mention the sheer number of enemies they have made that could have taken him. He had to start sniffing out every square inch of Beacon Hills immediately.
Stiles woke up with a sharp pain through his shoulder, followed by the contents of his stomach ending up on the floor. His brain felt like it was trying to barge out of his skull, the room was spinning. His chest felt as though a bookcase fell on it, he coughed heavily trying to get the water out of his lungs. Why am I covered in water? Why is it hot in here? Can I breathe? Why can't I move? Stiles looked down at his hands, they were an indigo grey colour, but felt like they were on fire. Huh… What is the pack doing?