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Stiles blinked slowly, only to not open his eyes again. They were heavy and bruised, and one of the sockets was probably fractured. He wanted to open them again, just to feel a little more secure, even if it was meaningless in terms of his safety.
His head had hit the ground a couple times which was probably why his ears were ringing, and he had a splitting headache, the only place he could feel the pain. He had tried to fight back; he figured with the adrenaline from the game, he should've had a chance, that and the fact that Gerard looked frailer than a sheet of paper.
Every now and then, Erica or Boyd would make a noise, aggravating his headache and making him feel nauseous. He knew they were in pain and probably scared, but he really wished they would just shut up. All he really wanted was to pass out so everything would stop feeling so loud.
Chris walked into the doorway of Allison's room, where she and Gerard were talking.
"I saw the lights flicker," he said.
"Probably just one of our guests getting comfortable downstairs." Gerard looked pleased, almost challenging. Like he was asking Chris to say something against it. Gerard knew Allison would be on his side about the two wolves; Chris just hoped she'd see reason for one of her friends.
"Yes, well maybe one of them would like a little more hospitality. Especially considering he doesn't have supernatural healing."
"Wait, what? Grandpa, what's he talking about?"
"Well, sweetheart, I had to give a message to Derek about how we feel about those he associates with. Trust me, this is necessary."
"Yeah? Well, I don't think the Sheriff will be very gracious when he finds out it was us who kidnapped his son."
"What?! You kidnapped Stiles? Oh my god, Grandpa, he's human; he hasn't done anything!"
"I did what was necessary in order to send a message to Derek and his pack that their presence will not be tolerated! Is it unreasonable of me to pick the most vulnerable of them to exploit?"
"Gerard, you took a helpless boy and rendered him even moreso. What you're doing won't even matter in the end."
"So what? He was in our way. You said it yourself Allison, if anyone tries to interfere with our plan, it is our duty to kill them, no matter who they are."
"He's dead?!"
"No, but I wouldn't be surprised if Gerard was comfortable letting him."
"Okay, when I said that before, that was about Derek's wolves. Not. Stiles. Not Lydia either! No one human."
Gerard sighed, "Very well, maybe you should take him home then."
Allison and Chris were both suspicious of his quick surrender, but Allison is not the type to let her friends die.
She made it down to the basement, and when she saw Stiles passed out on the floor, she thought her heart stopped for a second. His face was covered in wounds and to-be scars. His arms were bruised and bloody, and it was evident he had tried to protect his head. His legs weren't as damaged, but she could guess that whatever injuries hiding under his jersey were what was keeping him from getting up and walking away. That and a bad concussion which he shouldn't have slept on.
It creaked when she walked down one of the steps, alerting the previously asleep werewolves. Their tiredness made their fear more prevalent, and if they didn't heal so quick and she could've seen their wounds, she would've felt guiltier about the torture.
When she stooped down to wake up Stiles, she could smell slightly burnt flesh. She could see his hands covered in burn marks and singed skin when she looked closer. This was when she started tearing up. She just hoped he didn't hate her after this.
She gently shook him to not aggravate his wounds more, and he woke abruptly.
"Wait- Idon't- Stop stop!"
"Stiles! Stiles, it's just me. It's Allison!"
"Allison? whatre- what- what're you doin' here?" When he wasn't yelling, his voice was scratchy and hoarse. She could only imagine him screaming.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm gonna take you home to your dad, and then he's gonna take you to the hospital, okay? That sound good?" She lowered her voice, keeping it just above a whisper to ease his senses. Although all she wanted to do was go upstairs and deliver the Furies' wrath onto Gerard.
"ye- yeah, that sounds," he coughed, and it sounded wet. Not good. "that sounds good."
"W- w- wait! Take Boyd and Erica too."
"I- I can't, Stiles."
"Why not?"
"They're- they just- Look, it's complicated, alright? Just c'mon and try not to fall asleep." If he was in his right state of mind, he would've pushed more, asked harder. Perhaps it worsened her concern that he hadn't. But honestly, she was glad he didn't. She just wanted to get him safe.
She called the Sheriff on her way there to let him know to bring the first aid kit and to call Scott's Mom. She told the Sheriff to let Scott know because she was driving and didn't want to crash and make things worse. The real reason was that she didn't feel like talking to him right then.
The Sheriff was already waiting in the driveway with Scott's mom when she pulled up. By the time Allison got out of the car, they had already picked him up from the back seat and took him through the open front door into the living room.
They laid him down on the couch, and Scott's mom was trying to get him to wake up because, try as she might, Allison couldn't keep him from going to sleep.
"Stiles, sweety? You gotta wake up, okay? John, go call an ambulance! He needs help now." Stiles winced at her volume. Meanwhile, Melissa was attempting to assess his wounds while trying not to break down.
"Allison, I need you to grab me gauze, rubbing alcohol, and cotton pads." Allison grabbed everything Melissa needed and then watched as she started dressing his worst injuries. When she began cleaning, he grimaced.
"Oh, sweety, I know I'm sorry. I'll be gentle, okay?"
"Okay," he replied softly.
Melissa felt she couldn't be anything but stoic right now. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to help Stiles.
John came back into the room when sirens could be heard in the distance. When the ambulance finally got parked out front, Stiles started groaning because the noise hurt his head and made him even more nauseous. The EMTs entered the house. The coffee table was pushed aside to make room for the stretcher. The awful scraping sound of the table legs against hardwood caused Stiles' stomach to drop. He puked all over himself and partially Melissa and the couch.
The EMTs quickly got him onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. John rode with them, giving them all the information they needed about his son.
When Scott got a call from John, he knew it was important and that he had to pick up.
"Hey, Mr Stilinski, what is it? Did you find Stiles?"
"Allison found him. Look- just," he took a moment to take a deep breath, and Scott could hear the jabbering of people in the background, "just meet us at the hospital, alright? He needs the support right now."
"Yeah, of course. Alright, I'll- I'll meet you there." John hung up, and Scott turned to the rest of the group.
"Scott, I don't think it's a good idea for you to leave. Especially right now."
"Wuh- Derek I can't just leave my best friend like that."
"Scott, right now, you kinda have to." It was then that Scott heard Jackson tearing through the body bag.
It was a few hours later when Stiles woke up. Allison had to leave to get Lydia to the warehouse and stop Jackson and Gerard. Ultimately the day was saved, but no one felt like it. Not with Stiles stuck in a hospital bed that made him look infinitely more helpless and hurt.
"Hey, Stiles, how ya feeling bud?"
"Mmm, dad? that you?"
"Yeah, Stiles, it's me."
"Whys- why's ev'ryone here?"
"Cause you got hurt, buddy."
"Yeah I know. sucked."
Everyone in the room was in tears to some degree. He sounded so small, looked the part too. He barely had the strength to open his eyes, and his body was stiff. His hands were covered in bandages, and Melissa said they looked like electrical burns.
A few hours later, Stiles' nurse gave him his meds and dinner. He told everyone that visiting hours were over in ten minutes, so they all had to start clearing out. John was allowed to stay behind because he was family. Biological family, that is.
In the end, Stiles was more hurt than they thought. His hands had been electrocuted. Badly. Causing severe nerve damage that could be permanent. When a deputy came in to get his report, he told him that the opposing teaming took him to an alleyway and used jumper cables on him. That's what happened officially. But really, Gerard forced him to choose to grab the wire, or he would do the same to Boyd and Erica. Naturally, Stiles chose the selfless option.
This culminated in a giant medical bill and five weeks stuck in a hospital bed. After that, he gets four weeks with a cast and crutches because it turned out Gerard broke his ankle. Hopefully, his school doesn't hold him back from all the late work.
On his first day out of the haze from his concussion, he was able to tell the pack what really went down. He didn't remember some of it, but he could assemble the pieces. A lot of what they heard was lies to keep the others from knowing about the supernatural.
"So it was definitely Gerard hurting you? No one else?" asked Allison. She didn't want to believe he orchestrated this, let alone doing the punching. She was just starting to get used to Gerard, to liking him.
"That I'm pretty sure of. It didn't seem like there was anyone else in there with him." She sighed. Her family really was messed up, wasn't it?
"I'm so sorry Stiles. I never thought that he would do something like this. I'm just glad we don't have to worry about him anymore." Everyone was glad about that. Gerard was an asshole.
"Did you guys ever find Erica and Boyd? I heard they weren't in the basement when you went to go look for them."
"No. It looked like they managed to tear through the wires with brute strength and escape but we still haven't found them. We haven't even been able to pick up their scents." Derek looked worried, a new expression for him.
John walked into Stiles' hospital room, and everyone turned to look at him. Everyone being Allison, Scott, Derek, Lydia, and Issac. Jackson was off doing who knows what. Danny was planning on coming over later, though, so that's a plus.
"Would it be okay if I could talk with Stiles alone for a bit?"
"Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need."
John sat down in the chair closest to Stiles' bed where Scott was sitting. He looked rough like he hadn't slept in weeks, even though it'd only been a few days since Stiles got kidnapped. He took a moment to run his hands over his face and sighed.
"Hey, kiddo. How's it goin'?"
"I've been better but uh, so have you."
"Yeah, guess I have," he paused for a bit and looked down at the white laminate of the room, "Look, uh, the doctors are telling me that they're going t'have to perform a surgery on your ankle. Somethin' about the way one of the broken bones, i-it's in a really bad spot that won't heal correctly if they just leave it. Thought you should know."
"Thanks, Dad," there was an awkward feel to the conversation. Like both parties wanted to say something but couldn't.
"Dad, loo-" "I just-" They spoke simultaneously, and their eyes met when they both paused. John continued.
"Stiles, I just-" he gulped, "it was really scary when we first found out that you were missing and uh, I just want you to know that every second that you were gone I was looking for you. Never doubt that, alright?"
"Yeah, of course, Dad. That was kinda the only thing I was thinking about. That and not dying but I think that one's a given."
"I just- I never want you to feel like you're alone, cause you're not. You have so many people here for you and I need you to know that. You're never alone, alright. We love you."
Stiles was crying. Full-out ugly sobs that made his sore ribs hurt. His dad moved to hug him, and it was all he could do to hold onto him. To feel the soft knit of his dad's sweater in between his fingers and clutch onto it. Bury it into his memory, so he never forgets what it's like to be loved.
When they parted ways, both of their eyes were puffy and red, and they took a moment to calm themselves down before they looked at each other and started laughing. Joyful cries of utter relief. Full of happiness and comfort and love.
When the others came into Stiles' room again, they saw the two's puffy eyes and decided not to address it. It was clear they were gonna be okay. They were all gonna be alright.