Warning: sleepwalking: mentions of dementia, slight hypothermia, drug induced sleep
Scott woke up to the sound of his ringtone that came from his phone on the nightstand. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed his phone. Stiles's contact showed on the screen. He pressed the green button and held the phone to his ear.
"Hey man what's up?" Scott said groggily. All he got in response was heavy breathing. "Stiles?" Scott asked, sitting up. "Stiles you there?"
"Scott?" Stiles' voice asked. He sounded like he was in pain.
"Hey, I'm here, what's going on?" Scott asked. He kicked off his covers, ready to run out and help his friend. "Are you okay, can you hear me?"
"Scott, I don't, I don't know where I am... I don't know how I got here.... I think I was sleepwalking," Stiles told him.
"Okay, um can you see anything?" Scott asked. "Just tell me what you see."
"Ah, it's dark," Stiles told him. "It's hard to see. I think there's something wrong with my-"
The call was cut off. Scott looked down at his phone to see that the call had ended. He tried calling him but all he got was his voice mail. He tried again. Still, voice mail. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and tried again.
Second later, his screen lit up with a call from Stiles. Scott picked up right away. "Stiles?"
"Scott, I don't think I can get out of here," the boy admitted. "I can't move."
"Where are you?" Scott asked.
"I don't know. I don't know, it's too dark and I can't see much." Stiles's fear was portrayed in his heavy breathing. "And something's wrong with my leg. It's stuck on something and it's-I think it's bleeding."
"How bad? Stiles, how bad is it?" There was just breathing again, no response. "Stiles, are you there, can you hear me?"
"Ah there's some kind of smell down here," Stiles said. "Something smells terrible. It's brutal, my eyes are watering."
"Okay, listen, I'm calling your dad," Scott told him.
"No, no, no, no, no don't," Stiles insisted.
"But your dad-"
"Don't. Just please don't call him, promise me you won't. He already worries about me too much. Scott please."
"But what if I can't find you?" Scott reasoned. "Stiles I can't make a promise like that."
"No, no, no, just please. Please don't call him. Or Vic. You know she hasn't been getting that much sleep lately. Come find me, you can do it. He doesn't have to know. Scott, you can find me."
"I don't know if I can do this," Scott admitted.
"Oh, I gotta call you back. I have to turn the phone off," Stiles told him.
"What? No, hey, wait-"
"I'm gonna call you right back."
"Hold on, Stiles, wait..." Before he could say anything more the call was cut off once again. He let out a small growl and rushed to his dresser. He switched on the lamp and pulled open a drawer.
"Isaac! Isaac get up!" Scott yelled. He pulled out a pair of pants and his jacket. He quickly threw the jacket over his shoulder. "I need your help. Isaac!"
The beta came into the room, his hair mussed and t-shirt rumpled. "Why? What's wrong?"
"It's Stiles," Scott told him. He tossed Isaac the second bike helmet and worked on getting his pants over his boxers."Get dressed."
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