AN: Hello! This is my first Teen Wolf fic, so sorry if anyone is OOC or something along those lines. This fic is in response to this post post/60057019146/argent-prison-for-the-supernatura l-and-dangerous. I have a tendency for not completing anything, so I may end up passing this off to someone else if they want it. Please review and give me some advice!

Scott struggled against his bonds. It was a feeble attempt, the heavy dose of wolfsbane having done its job well, and he was only able to irritate his already blistered wrists and ankles. He was in the trunk of a car. He and Stiles had been in the jeep when a car had come and quickly blocked off the road. Stiles had slammed on the brakes in order to avoid crashing and within moments, they had been torn from the car. Scott had felt something pinch at the side of his neck and then came the weakness and the pain. He was powerless to stop the men from securing his ankles and his hands behind his back. He was powerless to stop the men from doing the same to Stiles, who was crying out in concern for Scott, who was in turn vomiting black liquid onto the road. A gag was shoved in their mouths, silencing Stiles, and staunching the flow of liquid coming out of Scott. They had been shoved in two different car trunks, Stiles fighting for all he was worth, and Scott resisting as much as he could before another wave of pain racked his body.

The car hit another bump and he groaned into the gag around his mouth, which was soaked with the thick black liquid, which was still running steadily from his mouth and nose.

The car pulled to a stop and light poured into the dark space. Rough hands lifted him out of the car, cut the ropes around his ankles and set him on his feet.

There lay before him a rather imposing building with the words "Prison for the Supernatural and Dangerous" in stark white letters painted on the side. Scott was confused. What had he done? He wasn't dangerous; he was perfectly in control.

"I'm obligated to say to not try anything, but between you 'n' me, mutt, I'm aching for a chance to try out my new electric rod," was the warning he received from one of two men. He docilely allowed himself to be led toward the building. A wave of nausea hit him and he stopped to double over, black liquid streaming from around the piece of cloth.

Finding the werewolf suddenly no longer by his side, the first guard pulled out his rod, second guard following suit, and turned around.

"C'mon you mangy mutt."

"Heel boy."

"Don't make me use this."

The warnings came, but the heaving wouldn't stop. One of the guards reached forward, rod in hand, and Scott collapsed in the growing black puddle, body shaking spasmodically. After a minute, the shakes stopped and he was hauled to his feet and once more led towards the building Scott already knew he was going to dread.

"Well now, wasn't that fun?" commented the first guard, and dragged Scott through the doors.