"Find him."

"Stiles, we-"

"Use your werewolf abilities and find him!" Stiles demanded, jumping up and getting into Derek's face. His moment of weakness only lasted for a few seconds before he forced himself back to the present. Isaac didn't have time for that.

"I'm trying to catch his scent! Give me a minute!" Derek growled.

"Isaac doesn't have a minute!" Stiles shouted, balling his fists at his sides. He wanted to whale on Derek, but that would only slow things down. "I wasted enough time not listening to my instincts and look at us now! Erica is hurt and Isaac is gone! So do your job and find your Beta!"

"Stiles, calm down. Fighting with each other is the last thing we need," Lydia said, trying to diffuse the situation.

"No one listened to me before, but you damn sure will now!" Stiles snapped. He tuned everyone else out, focusing his energy on the ring he was holding in his hand. Even though Isaac wasn't wearing it, it belonged to him. Stiles could use it to track him, just like he has before with Erica and Boyd. As soon as he had the slightest feeling of a direction, he took off, following and trusting his power. Stiles felt Derek following along behind him, but he didn't acknowledge the man. A single breath wasn't going to be wasted right now.

Stiles wasn't sure how far he ran, but he could feel the magic getting stronger and stronger. Maybe they would find Isaac like they'd found Erica. Hurt, but alive. It's nothing he would wish on his boyfriend, but it was a better scenario than what it could be. Stiles couldn't think of what it could be right now. He needed to keep his focus.

Stiles kept running and jumping over obstacles in his path, letting the magic wash over him. It was like a vibration under his skin. So when it stopped, he felt the change immediately. But it wasn't right. Isaac wasn't there. Stiles skidded to a stop, almost getting run over by Derek in the process.

"What is it?" Derek demanded, tracking red eyes across their surroundings.

"I don't feel him anymore," Stiles mumbled, stumbling in the direction they came from. There had to be a reason the connection severed so abruptly. And it couldn't be the reason he was afraid of. Stiles walked onto a patch of grass and suddenly, the tingle was back, coming on so strong it was like a punch to the gut. He doubled over, almost falling before Derek caught him and held him up. "Here."

"What's here?"

"Isaac. He was here," Stiles whispered, shrugging Derek off and kneeling on the ground. He pressed his fingers to the grass, feeling a familiar tackiness. He didn't even have to look to know his fingertips were stained red. "You can't smell him?"

"I can't catch his scent at all," Derek admitted, looking completely bewildered. "Something isn't right here."

"Stiles!" Scott's voice shouted just before he came into view. Stiles looked up at his best friend, the pain clear on his face. Isaac had been hurt and he wasn't there anymore, so there was only one thing that could've happened.

"They took him," Stiles choked out, feeling his heart shatter as he said the truth out loud. "They have Isaac."

Isaac hadn't expected to ever wake up again. He thought they would drain every last drop of blood out of him, then toss him aside for their next meal. But luckily or unluckily, depending on how you wanted to look at it, he was still alive. In a terrible situation, but alive.

He stared up at the ceiling, feeling the puncture marks slowly closing up. His healing was definitely delayed, but he wasn't sure what the cause was. It could've been what he recognized as wolfsbane wrapped around where he was secured to the table. Or even some in the air. Scott had described what it was like breathing the herb in once and the experience sounded horrifying. Isaac wasn't having any trouble getting air in his lungs, but he was having a hard time forming a cohesive thought and keeping it for more than a few seconds before it slipped away. Or the issue could've been the blood loss, since he probably lost more than could be considered healthy. It didn't really matter though. It wasn't like if he found the answer to a random question that had popped into his head that he would be set free. He was well and truly stuck.

Even though his brain felt like mush, that didn't stop it from wandering back to Stiles. He'd definitely missed the check in time by now, so it had to be a matter of when, not if Stiles would be looking for him. And he didn't trust anyone more in that regard. Derek may have the nose, but Stiles had the magic. And hopefully there was someone with him who would be able to calm him down enough to use it.

Isaac hated being a damsel in distress, but there was no arguing he was in that role right now. He ached for his friends to burst in and save the day. He would do the same for them a million times over, without complaint. But he really wished these sorts of things would stop happening.

Stiles tore through his house, vaulting down the steps to his basement in two strides. The answer to this was lying in his mom's books and he wasn't going to rest until he found it. He ignored everyone else who'd followed him, needing to focus on the task at hand.

Erica had woken up on the drive from the preserve, but she'd still been out of it. Derek and Boyd took her to Deaton's, wanting the vet to check her over and make sure she was going to be okay. Stiles tried not to be bitter about it, since he cared about her and wanted her to be okay, but the scared and selfish part of him wanted everyone to be focused on finding Isaac. Lydia was beside him, going through books, while Scott and Allison were standing by, ready to fight if the time came. This would have to be enough.

"We are logging and organizing every spell in these books once we get Isaac back. I don't care how long it takes," Stiles growled, flipping through pages as fast as he could read them. "No more of this searching after something bad happens."

"What exactly are you looking for?" Scott asked, glancing around at all the items lining the walls. Scott hadn't been down there much, since he preferred to steer clear of most of the magic stuff. He didn't have Stiles' curious nature.

"There has to be another way to track Isaac. The trail shouldn't have just stopped like that. Or his scent," Stiles ground out. Even if someone had picked Isaac up and carried him out of the preserve, he would've left something behind. Stiles doubted they sealed him up in plastic on the spot like leftovers to be put in the fridge.

"When you find him, we'll be ready," Allison said darkly, spinning one of her daggers on her fingers. Stiles appreciated that she said when, not if. Because there was no chance they wouldn't find Isaac. He was coming home and Stiles was never going to let him out of his sight again.

His phone ringing startled him out of his search and Stiles pulled it out of his pocket as fast as he could. The chances of this being Isaac were low, but not zero. When he saw his dad's name on the display, he sighed in defeat. That would've been way too easy.

"Hey dad," Stiles mumbled, putting the phone on speaker so he could keep looking through his books.

"Derek texted me about what happened. I'm so sorry," his dad sighed. Stiles knew his dad had grown to love Isaac like his own, so this had to have been hitting him hard too. Their family wouldn't be the same without him.

"I'm gonna find him," Stiles growled, almost ripping a page as he angrily turned it.

"Do you want me to come home?" he offered. Part of Stiles wanted to say yes, to receive the comfort that only his dad could provide, but that wouldn't help Isaac. Stiles needed to stay sharp, not be distracted by feelings.

"No, stay out and keep looking for anything that could help find where these assholes are hiding. They picked the wrong town to mess with," Stiles said darkly. He was going to do whatever it took to save Isaac. And if it was too late, he would avenge him without hesitation or regret. It didn't matter how much it blackened Stiles' soul.

"Isaac's gonna be fine. He's a strong kid," his dad assured him. Stiles tuned him out, letting his dad say whatever words of optimism he thought would help. If that made him or the others feel better, fine, but Stiles was the one who had to figure out what to do. And when a particular spell caught his eye, he finally felt the first spark of hope in a while.

"I think I've got something," Stiles mumbled, reading and rereading the text. He'd been so focused on tracking Isaac, but maybe that wasn't the right way to go. Isaac wasn't the only one they'd taken after all.

"I don't like the sound of this," Lydia warned, leaning over to read what he'd found. But Stiles had already decided. This was Isaac's best chance.

"Dad, I need you to get something for me," Stiles said, darting around the room to get the supplies he needed.

"What?"

"A hair."

"Awake already? I'm impressed. That will make this easier." Isaac rolled his eyes toward the sound of the voice, finding the man from before standing off to the side.

"Who are you?" Isaac asked, cringing when his words slurred a bit. His mouth seemed to be as muddled as his brain.

"You can call me Alpha," the man replied. Isaac felt nauseous at the idea. He didn't even call Derek that. It felt too creepy and sort of degrading. He respected Derek as his leader when it came to pack things, but he still called him by his name. Forcing the title would only put distance between them.

"What are you?"

"I'm a werewolf, just like you. At least, I used to be. But we've transcended that and become something more," he replied, speaking as though it was some great thing. From where Isaac was laying, it definitely wasn't.

"Why? How?" Isaac pressed. If he somehow got out of this mess, he wanted all the information he could get.

"With a little help. But the details don't matter," the man waved off. "What matters is you're going to be the one to help us thrive. No more going out and killing people when we don't have to. You're going to be saving so many lives."

"But you're killing me," Isaac argued. He didn't think he'd be able to be a living blood bag for long before it went wrong and they took too much. And there was no way he would lay there and take it. He would never stop fighting, even if it ended in his death.

"We'll see," the man shrugged, running his fingers through Isaac's hair. He tried to jerk away as much as he could from the touch, but there was no use. And the longer it went on, the stronger the haze over Isaac's senses became. The man was doing something to him and it wasn't natural. "Rest up. We'll be back to see you again soon." Isaac couldn't so much as make a sound before his eyes closed again.

"Stiles, this is too dangerous," his dad said for the millionth time since he got to the house with Stiles' item. Nothing in the book said that Stiles would be killed by doing this, so that was good enough for him. The possibility of danger had never stopped him before.

"I'll be fine," Stiles insisted, mixing ingredients in a bowl. He'd never tried a spell before that required a potion, but there was no time like the present. His mom obviously had, since she had the supplies to do so. If his mom could do it, so could he.

"Explain what you're about to do again, because I don't like the sound of it," Scott sighed, staring at the bowl warily.

"This spell lets me relive the final 24 hours of a person's life. So if I can see exactly what happened to Caleb Greggerson, I'll be able to see where he was, which will lead us to where they have Isaac."

"And how do you know they took him to the same spot?" Lydia questioned.

"I don't, but it's more than we have now."

"So this means you're going to relive this guy's death. Does that mean you're going to feel his death?" Allison asked, wincing at the implication.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Stiles said firmly. As soon as the potion was done, he poured it into a glass. This had to work. It didn't matter what Stiles had to go through to save Isaac. "Call Derek and tell him what's going on. I don't know how long this is going to take, but he needs to be ready to go when it's finished."

"Stiles-" Stiles didn't let Scott say anything else before downing the liquid in one go. It tasted like trash, but Stiles didn't care. Nothing happened at first, but everyone was staring at him like they expected him to keel over. And their assumptions came true when Stiles' eyes suddenly rolled back and he started falling. His dad caught him, laying him down carefully on the floor. Everyone around him was yelling, but Stiles was in another world.

Things were flashing before his eyes almost too fast for him to comprehend. But Stiles could feel that he was experiencing it all in a body that wasn't his own. This was what Caleb Greggerson saw on the day he died. Most of it was normal, as Stiles saw a typical day, just at an accelerated speed. This poor guy had no idea what was coming.

Stiles' body jerked when he felt himself being grabbed. Waves of terror washed over him, almost stealing his breath away. Was this what a werewolf's heightened senses were like? It was overwhelming to be confronted by someone else's emotions in such a tangible way.

Stiles felt the cold and fear of being stripped down and tied up. He wanted to weep at the thought of Isaac going through the same thing, but he had no control over his body at the moment. He was Caleb and feeling everything he felt. His breathing picked up as he was surrounded, seeing people with silver eyes looking down at him. He tried to distract himself from what was about to happen by memorizing all the details he could, but there was no escaping it. And when the first set of teeth sunk into the body he was sharing with Caleb, he screamed. And he didn't stop screaming.