Who's it Going to Be? Pack or Family

Chapter 1

Hours later, the pack was brought back out and into the room with Stiles. He was in the middle of an old room, sitting to a chair. Well not voluntarily. His arms held together behind the chair by leather-vervain restraints.

They all looked on the scene with extreme horror. The first thing they noticed was the blood, the scent strong in the air. Stiles' shirt was covered in blood, his blood. His plaid shirt was ripped in many places, but the worst that the pack could see was a wooden stake inside of his left thigh. From what they could tell, he should have a many visible injuries on his chest. None could be seen. Blood stained his shirt, but not a single scratch could be found on Stiles' soft pale skin. All the blood couldn't have come from his leg, so the pack examined him some more with confusion and worry.

Their thoughts were interrupted by a strong force moving them, and chaining them all up to the wall. They stood alongside each other, their arms chained above their heads.

"We have to give our compliments to you, Stiles. You are so brave and strong, and for what? Niklaus?" Ester walked in looking at Stiles pitifully. "Such a shame."

Stiles didn't look at her, he looked straight ahead. To avoid the glare from his captors, and the gazes from his friends. He kept his head held high, to Mikael's displeasure. "Tell us what we want to know, boy." The demand was met with silence, and Mikael's face slowly grew an evil smile.

"So be it."Mikael squatted in front of Stiles, quickly grabbing the stake in his leg. He looked him straight in the eyes.

They both know what this is really about. Father and son. Mikael wants his little boy back. More like little soldier. Stiles used to be his most loyal son; they used to be so close, until Mikael started attacking Klaus. Before that, Mikael would spend his free time teaching Stiles how to fight and build weapons. Both Mikael and Ester had a soft spot for the youngest of their children, worrying and hovering over him. It broke their heart when Stiles stood with Klaus, defending him. Everything they are doing right now, in this small town in Mexico, is to get him back. If they can break him, they can build him back up. Build him back up as their son. The torture was just a means to an end. Also perhaps a form of punishment for his betrayal.

Ester knows this, Mikael knows this, as well does Stiles.

Mikael slowly started to twist the stake at painful angles, but Stiles is not will to let them win this fight. He bit his bottom lip, in hopes of preventing the hisses of pain from escaping. Mikael kept twist the stake for a little while, with no effect. He stopped, pulled the stake out. A huff of air left Stiles' lungs, being relieved from his pain.

Mikael stood up tall to examine Stiles. After a minute he hummed to himself, as if coming to a conclusion to his thoughts. He slowly turned his back and walked away. Before Stiles knew what was happening Mikael rushed back at him, thrusting the stake into his shoulder. Caught off guard, Stiles yells out in pain.

One point: Mikael.

The pack started fighting harder against the chains that kept them back. They all cried out for Mikael to stop.

Malia could feel the pain coming off of Stiles in waves, slowly increasing more and more. "Stop it, you're hurting him!" Mikael turned to look at her. "Yes I am," he said as if it was an obvious statement. "Why?! Your a hunter, aren't you supposed to hunt and torture us, the werewolves? He's only human!" Malia was on the verge of hysterics.