Stiles sat up panting, feeling like he'd run a dozen marathons. His body was completely covered in sweat, which felt a bit too much like the blood from his vision. But none of his blood had been spilled. Caleb's had. And most likely Isaac's. So whatever Stiles was feeling would have to wait.

"Stiles!" Scott shouted, grabbing him around the shoulders. "He's awake!"

"Let me go. I need to get to work," Stiles grunted, pushing at Scott's hands.

"Son!" his dad exclaimed, rushing into the tiny area. He was still on the floor of his mom's hidden room. There wasn't much space for everyone else, so they were hovering in the doorway. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Stiles insisted, finally prying Scott off of him and climbing to his feet. He was immediately lightheaded and had to lean against the table next to him. Probably just a side effect of the spell.

"Stiles, you've been out for six hours," Scott informed him, biting his lip anxiously.

"What?! No, that's impossible," Stiles denied, because that meant that Isaac had been missing for six more hours as well. Six hours that Stiles was laying there instead of saving his boyfriend.

"And you were screaming for a lot of it."

"Whatever. What matters now is that I know where they took Caleb. That's gotta be where they are keeping Isaac," Stiles declared, shaking off the last of his fatigue. He would only let himself sleep if he was doing it while wrapped around his boyfriend.

"You saw it?"

"They didn't bother covering Caleb's eyes," Stiles muttered. The poor guy was never meant to survive his ordeal, so they hadn't needed to be careful. But that was going to be their downfall. Stiles was going to make sure they paid for what they'd done. For Isaac and Caleb.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Allison asked, swinging one of her daggers around her finger before sliding it back into its sheath. Stiles nodded at her in appreciation. She and Isaac had bonded a bit during their double dates, so Stiles knew she wouldn't hesitate to spill blood for him.

"They took him to a warehouse just outside of town. If I wasn't so pissed off, I'd make a comment about how utterly unoriginal they were," Stiles replied, glancing around at the bottles that lined the walls. He hadn't been focusing on making potions yet, since spellwork was taking up all his time. It would've come in handy now, so he could make weapons to help get Isaac out safely, but he couldn't waste time trying to figure out some now.

"And what's the plan? You can't just go in and kill everyone involved in this," his dad argued.

"What else can we do? Do you think you'll be able to arrest them and they'll go quietly? That's not how this works!" Stiles snapped. He knew his dad was trying to be logical, but Stiles also knew he was willing to darken his soul if it meant Isaac was safe. Killing was something he'd avoided at all costs before, but there was bound to be a scenario where there was no other choice. Stiles knew that Isaac would've killed Deucalion to save him if that's what it had come down to. Maybe it was more acceptable for a werewolf to take a life. He sure didn't hold it against Derek or the others. But Stiles wasn't just a human anymore. And what they were dealing with weren't either. The rules were different in their world.

"That's how the rest of the world works."

"I don't remember you saying that when you came in guns blazing to try to save me from Ms. Blake. Or was that because it was me in danger and not Isaac? Is his life not as important?" Stiles snarled. He knew what he was saying to his dad was unfair, but it was hard not to lash out in this situation. Until he could get his hands on the people holding Isaac, no one was safe from his wrath.

"There is an ongoing police investigation surrounding these people. You can't just kill the perps without anyone batting an eye. There are too many people involved in this. And I'm not even going to justify the part about Isaac with a response," his dad said firmly, giving him a look that told him to watch his mouth. Stiles wanted to shout back, but all of this was just wasting time.

"My goal in this is getting Isaac back, no more, no less. If you want to handle the rest of the details, I won't stop you," Stiles ground out, turning and walking out of the room.

"Looks like I got here just in time for the fun," Peter purred from where he was standing next to a tense Derek.

"Is she-"

"Erica's fine, but she and Boyd are sitting this one out," Derek replied. Stiles tried not to be bitter about that. He knew that it would take an act of God to get him to separate from Isaac while he was hurt like that, but this was a pack emergency. Isaac and Stiles had almost died trying to find them and Isaac deserved the same consideration.

"When did you get back? I thought you were out of town?" Stiles asked Peter. It would've been nice to have the psycho here before everything went to shit.

"My dear nephew sent an SOS. Of course I couldn't ignore it," Peter replied, putting his hand over his heart dramatically. Peter was never going to admit that he held a soft spot for Isaac, since that wasn't his style. But it was obvious in the way that he always tried to rile him up. And Peter hadn't tried to kill him at all. Not all of them could say that.

"Well, prepare to get your hands dirty," Stiles mumbled, glancing back at his dad one last time. They'd hopefully be able to find a compromise, but Stiles was willing to do whatever it took to save Isaac.

"Oh, believe me," Peter smirked, flicking out his claws to inspect them, "my hands look better in red."

"What have you done?!"

"I'm sorry! We were just so hungry!"

"I didn't think we drank that much!"

"He was supposed to feed us for years, not a day! Get out of my sight before I kill you!" Isaac heard shuffling feet before a door slam closed. He didn't react, keeping his body completely lax. "What a waste. I guess we'll have one last meal before we have to go hunting again." Isaac kept his breaths even as he heard and felt the last man leave the room. He had to be very careful with what he was about to do, since werewolf senses were strong, but vampire werewolf senses probably put those to shame. This was his only plan and he would probably get one shot at it.

After the bullshit Alpha talked to him and messed with his head, Isaac had been mostly left alone. At least, he assumed he was. His mind wasn't completely there for a while after the fact. But when his brain finally got back to only a slight haziness, he started plotting. There was no way he was going to accept being a human Capri Sun, but fighting off multiple werewolves wasn't going to be easy. Even at full strength, he was a bit of a disaster. His best option was to try to sneak out.

That was easier said than done, since he was strapped down. The wolfsbane was a constant burn on his wrists and ankles, but it didn't feel like there was much more to his bindings than that. Wolfsbane was a plant and plants could be torn. Isaac started experimentally twisting one of his wrists, biting back a hiss as the herb was forced further into his skin. The pain masked whether or not he was making progress, but he didn't stop. And the hurt had somehow started clearing his head a bit. Isaac pushed through it for what felt like hours, focusing his mind on Stiles to keep himself distracted.

He started to feel what he thought were the first signs of fraying when he heard footsteps approaching his room. Isaac forced himself to still, hoping the work he'd been doing wasn't obvious. He could sense there was more than one person in the room as they approached, hovering at his side. What he wouldn't have given for it to be Stiles or Derek. He would've even been happy to have Peter there. But reality smacked him in the face when the first set of teeth pierced his skin again. Isaac couldn't stop the low moan from escaping as a set of fangs found a home in each of his biceps. He tried to think back to science class and the arteries located there. If they hit them, would the bleeding stop? Did he want it to?

A crazy idea flashed into Isaac's mind. An idea that would probably put some of Stiles' wildest to shame. What if they did go too far? What if he became useless to them? They might drain him completely and dump his body, or they could leave him there to slowly die. You didn't have to worry about someone with no strength escaping, so they might let their guard down. The Alpha might not bother doing whatever it was he did to put Isaac out. It was a risk and most likely, Isaac would end up dead, but doing nothing wasn't an option.

Isaac focused his energy on stopping his body from healing. Derek had talked to them about it briefly a while back, when he was still gung ho about training. What happened to the cut on Isaac's face in front of his dad couldn't happen in public. They had to be able to keep up appearances if they were injured in front of another person. Isaac had only done it once, when he'd cut himself to get Stiles away from Ms. Blake. And that had only been for a minute or two. This was going to have to be longer.

Isaac could feel the energy being drained from his body as the werewolves drank. One of the many flaws of his plan was how weak he was going to end up while attempting this. Would he even be able to heal after it all? Did there come a point where forcing his body to not heal would become permanent?

Any questions Isaac had became a moot point when the Alpha burst in and started scolding the werewolves feeding on him. He must've been doing a good enough job, since they thought he was almost drained. And when he was finally alone in the room again, Isaac got to work.

He poured all of his energy into healing his body, not letting his stress and fear muddle his mind. Those were the biggest barriers to healing, when he wasn't trying to stop it on purpose. It was a lot easier when he had Stiles by his side. Knowing that he was safe always helped him relax, even when he was traumatized beyond belief.

Stiles was probably out of his mind with worry right now. Isaac knew he would be if Stiles had been taken. Been there, done that. He hoped the others were taking care of him and making sure he didn't do anything crazy. The latter was probably too much to ask, since he knew how tenacious Stiles could be when he had a goal. And being together was something that they would fight to the ends of the earth for.

Isaac blew out a shaky breath at the thought of never seeing Stiles again. Falling in love wasn't really something he'd ever considered for himself. And actually being loved in return had been so far out of the realm of possibility that it had never been a blip on his radar. But now that he had this love, the thought of being without it again was unfathomable. No matter what the movies said, what they had wasn't easy to come by. So when you got it, you fought for it. Isaac knew Stiles was fighting and he was going to fight too.

The slight tingle of a closing wound was the first thing Isaac felt. He knew he wouldn't be at full strength for a while, but it was a start. Isaac resumed his earlier twisting of his wrist, working on the wolfsbane that bound him to the table he was laying on. The renewed pain helped push the healing along, as backward as that sounded. Isaac wasn't a fan of that particular method, but he would do anything at the moment.

The sound of the binding of wolfsbane finally giving way almost made Isaac sob, but he smothered the sound in his throat. If someone heard him before he got free, all of this would be for nothing. Isaac shakily lifted his arm, bringing it to his stomach before it flopped back down. It felt like it weighed a ton, but he had to keep going. He slowly dragged it the rest of the way across his body, until his hand rested on his still bound wrist. His fingertips burned as he freed his other arms. It was slow going, since his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, but he didn't give up.

When Isaac's second hand was free, he didn't waste any time. He forced himself to sit up, closing his eyes as the room around him started to spin a little. The blood loss was going to take a bit more time to recover from, but he hoped he'd get a little adrenaline flowing when the time called for it. Isaac shivered as he stretched to reach his feet, reminded of his state of undress. Thank goodness he'd been wearing boxer briefs, so they would cover him better if he ended up having to run. Pants would be better, so maybe he'd be able to blitz one of the people holding him and steal theirs. That would be weird, but nowhere near the level of crazy that sucking his blood was.

The ankle restraints were easy enough to rip apart and Isaac was finally free. Not fully, but a win was a win. He immediately rolled off the table, wanting to be away from it as quickly as possible. Now all he had to do was find his way out and get back home. The only problem was he didn't know where he was or which way to go. And the minor issue of all the vampire werewolves who saw him as dinner lurking around. Isaac was probably screwed and all this effort was for nothing, but at least he could go out knowing that he'd tried. And a one percent chance was still better than nothing.

Isaac crept over to the door the Alpha left through, pressing his ear against it to listen for any signs of life. Everything was quiet, which was a good and bad sign. Maybe everyone had decided to go home, since their human buffet had been ruined. But did that mean they were out hunting again, finding some innocent person to feed off of? Isaac couldn't worry about anyone but himself at the moment, as selfish as that was. Who would he be able to help if he was dead? He had to get back to his pack. He had to get back to Stiles.