Warnings: sexual content, underage, dub-con (only the first time)

Human is Just a Word

Stiles just wanted to have a look. He didn't intend to do anything, he just wanted to scope things out, get a feeling for his surroundings. He shouldn't be here. Sneaking into the heart of a werewolf's territory was a stupid idea in on itself, he knew that, thank you very much, but how else would he find out more about his enemy? This was something he couldn't learn from a book or the internet. Territory, pack, those were things the werewolves didn't want humans to know about. But that were the things Stiles needed to know about. If he wanted to have even the slightest chance to get to Peter, he needed to know.

So Stiles was here in the middle of the night when good little werewolves were peacefully sleeping in their den or cave or wherever it was werewolves slept. Most likely a bed, he guessed, but that didn't have the right ring to it.

Just a little walk through the neighborhood, he told himself. Not that it was his neighborhood, his was on the other end of the town, but you get the idea.

Stiles' little adventure went surprisingly well. And surprisingly boring considering that he found absolutely nothing, nada. He hadn't expected to find a flashing sign pointing at the villain's secret hide-out, not that he needed one, Stiles knew exactly where he would find Peter.

The alpha lived out in the preserve in the old Hale house. After the fire Peter had claimed it for himself and renovated it. Now it was more like a fortress than a house. Good luck going there. People tend to disappear if they got too nosy out in the preserve.

No, Stiles wanted to know more about the territory in town. Where did the werewolves hang out? Did they have patrols? Where did they go when they weren't chilling in the evil villain's mansion?

Stiles wasn't sure how those information would help him but he was a firm believer in the power of knowledge and that was why he was here in the middle of the night.

He didn't see a werewolf, which was probably good, but he didn't find out anything useful either. He could swing by Jackson's house, Stiles knew where he lived, but that was beside the point.

Two hours later Stiles was on his way back to where he'd parked the jeep.

"Half the night wasted." He muttered under his breath. He had his hands in the pockets of his jacket, the hoodie part of his hoodie deep in his face and his head ducked. Keeping in the shadows, not that that would make any kind of difference to the werewolves ruling this part of town, he walked briskly towards the proverbial light. In this case the light of the 24/7 grocery store where he'd left his car. He could already see the light in the distance, a beacon in the night, when things went south.

"Going somewhere, Stilinski?" A voice followed by a bulky body came out of the shadows to his right.

"Oh, hey." Stiles plastered a fake smile on his face. He was so screwed. "Jackson. Nice night for a walk."

Jackson flashed blue eyes at him. Behind him two more figures stepped out of the shadows, flanking him like bodyguards.

"We told you to keep your nose out of things it doesn't belong in." Jackson said around too many teeth. Stiles probably just gave him a field day. Everybody knew that werewolves existed but the wolves weren't keen on flashing it off. They didn't want to draw too much attention. It was a "what happens in the pack, stays in the pack" kind of mindset, hence Stiles' nightly walk in the neighborhood.

But since Stiles already knew a lot about werewolves and Jackson knew that he knew, the douchebag could go all Cujo on him. And he clearly enjoyed it.

To Stiles it was just the natural continuance from their sandbox days. Back then Jackson had liked to call him names and hit him with the shovel over the head when no adult was looking. Now he flashed his eyes and showed his fangs when his alpha wasn't looking.

"I was just leaving." Stiles raised his hands in a calming manner and just hoped that barking dogs won't bite. "Heading that way." He gestured in the direction of the grocery store shining in the distance. So close.

"I don't think he's learned his lesson." The twin to Jackson's left said. Ethan or Aidan, Stiles didn't know, he never bothered to learn how to tell them apart. Not that he had many interactions with them for which he was glad. They always looked at him as if they wanted to find out what his intestines looked like. And they would probably eat them. While he was watching.

"No, I don't think he has." The second twin grinned at him and now Stiles was facing three werewolves with glowing eyes and their fangs out.

"Run!" The twins said as one. It sounded like a bark and Stiles would have pointed that out but he actually liked being alive.

Stiles ran.

"Shit." He didn't hear their footsteps behind him so they were either giving him a head-start or they just liked screwing with him. He didn't look back to find out which one it was.

Even with a head-start, he didn't stand a chance. He could not outrun a werewolf, Stiles knew that.

When he heard the heavy footfalls coming up behind him, he knew that he was in for at least a roughing up.

"Run like a rabbit!" Jackson yelled after him.

Stiles picked up speed.

The lights of the grocery store were close now. If he could only manage to get in the jeep …

They played with him. They waited until he ran past the last mouth of an alley, the parking lot and his jeep waiting just there, before they were on him and pulled him into the alley.

"Thought you could run?" One of the twins had him by his neck and threw him farther into the dark alley. Stiles avoided hitting a dumpster and landed hard on the concrete. The light from the street didn't reach this deep and the three werewolves were blocking most of it anyway. Stiles couldn't see much more than their silhouettes and the glow of their eyes.

They could see him just fine, he knew that. And if they couldn't see him they for sure could hear his heart rabidly beating in his chest. Damn werewolf senses.

They were back to their original formation, Jackson in the front and the twins flanking him a step behind. Testicles to Jackson the dick.

Stiles would have laughed at that thought but he was busy crab-walking away from them.

"Why can't you just leave things alone?" Jackson asked.

"Peter didn't leave Scott alone." Stiles shot back.

"And you think what …?" The twin to Jackson's right asked. Stiles couldn't see his face but he sounded like there were raised eyebrows involved. "That you can just waltz in and revenge him?"

Yep, definitely raised eyebrows involved. And glowing eyes. And claws, the light from the street lamp in their backs brought those alive rather dramatically.

The werewolves hadn't moved and Stiles was now far enough from them for it to feel safe to get to his feet again. But he kept an eye on them. Something was off. They had been here before. There had been harsh words and a punch or a shove and maybe one more for good measure, but they had never come across like this. Stiles couldn't really place it but he didn't want to get any closer to them. Slowly he backed off.

He couldn't really see what was a few feet behind him but he was pretty sure it was a solid wall. A dead end. He licked his lips and felt the fear settling in his stomach. The only way out was through the werewolves and he had the feeling that this time he wouldn't get out with just a split lip and some bruises.

If he didn't knew better he'd say that they were out for blood.

It was just after the full moon, he'd checked because even he wasn't stupid enough to go after werewolves on the full moon. Point was, it wasn't the full moon so they should have their instincts under control. At least in theory. Stiles knew a lot about theories but not nearly enough about the real deal. Looked like he was about to find out more.

"Hey, guys." Stiles said because this was the only thing he could do. Talk. He was good at talking and usually he managed to talk his way out of almost everything. "Look, I know I've overstepped some boundaries here. Believe me, I know. But c'mon, it's the middle of the night. Can't we just go home and call it a day? I know you want to be out here as much as I do. You haven't seen me and I haven't seen you, sounds fair?"

They didn't answer but they started walking, Jackson first and the twins following a second later. One threatening step after the other until they had Stiles backed off in the corner.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by a fist connecting with his solar plexus. He had just enough time to notice that it had been the twin on the right, he decided that it was Ethan, before the air left his lungs and stars exploded behind his eyes. Next thing he knew he was on the ground again. This time in agony.

"That's all you got?" Stiles gritted out, still curled in to himself while the pain slowly came down to a bearable level. He could take a hit. Jackson had given him worse just in passing and he hadn't even been a werewolf back then. Hurray for high school bullies.

Still, it wasn't a smart thing to say, all things considered, but Stiles had never been good at doing the smart thing. Doing the smart thing would have meant that he would be home now, peacefully sleeping in his bed and not preparing himself for the beating that was about to come. He just hoped it would be done with a beating. He didn't want to die in some stupid back alley.

The werewolves didn't say a word. They were past talking, Stiles had known that the moment they had pulled him into this alley so the least thing he could do was to laugh into their faces. If he had the breath for that, that is.

"You never know when to stop, don't you, Stilinski?" Jackson said, sounding rather bored. Then he punched him in the face.

Things got kind of blurry after that. Stiles tried to protect his head with his arms but otherwise he could only lay there like some punching bag and take it. The wolves didn't let him come up again, not that he would have been able to, not after the first few punches.

At some point the pain wasn't too bad anymore and Stiles felt himself drifting away. He welcomed it. If he lost consciousness they would probably stop. Or if they decided to beat him to death he wouldn't be there to feel it which was fine with him as well.

His last clear thought was that they didn't use their claws. With only their fists he had a chance at waking up in the hospital. At the moment, Stiles couldn't care less. He just wanted to sink into painless darkness.

Just before he slipped away, everything stopped.

Stiles dared to blink his eyes open, at least the one that wasn't swollen shut. Over the ringing in his ears he heard a deep growl and then there were more eyes glowing in the dark.

Red, Stiles thought. I'm dead.