Sparks, Flowers and Plaid Shirts (Book Two in the 'Plaid Shirts' series)

Electricity- (Erica POV)

A/N -

Hello readers, this one is a bit different as I am doing something slightly different, the scene I am using will be added to by my own twisted imagination as I extend the scene. I am doing this because personally I think Gerard was a sadistic fucker who wouldn't have just sent Stiles away with just a bruised cheek and a cut lip as a message.

This time when the swirls come back together signalling another scene change I instantly squeeze Boyd's hand harder as I take a staggering step back. There in front of us is Boyd and I strung to the roof with electric cables. Of course it would be this memory, the memory where Stiles was beaten as a message to his best friend who didn't realise. Where Stiles was beaten and Boyd or I did nothing to tell the others that he might be hurting after when we had ran back to Derek with our hypothetical tales between our legs. Derek looks over to Boyd and I with a crease forming in his brows, "When was this?". I feel my right eye give a twitch as Boyd stiffens beside me. "It was the night that Jackson died on the lacrosse pitch and Stiles disappeared. You know, when Gerard had control of the kanima".

Derek gives a stiff nod and Boyd elbows my side slightly then beacons over to Allison who I looking around the room in question. "Is this the basement in my father's house?", the hunter asked slightly taken aback and I feel the sad smile take over my face because I really had warmed up to Allison over the years but this memory was around the time that she went all unstable psycho bitch on us, "What did you think all the screaming was about?". Allison let out a gasp, "That was you guys. My grandfather said it was some omega that had gone crazy with out a pack and they had to hurt him to protect themselves while trying to get him to eat food and accept help. It never really made sense but my grandfather scared me so I didn't really like asking questions". I shook my head in disgust with Gerard and guilt with in my self, "The screaming wasn't us. As you can see our lips where sealed".

At this Allison stopped adverting her eyes from where past Boyd and I where strung up in the room with tape covering our mouths. "If you weren't the ones screaming then who-", Cora went to ask when the door of the basement opened and someone dressed in red was shoved down the stairs. "Hey, what do you think you are-", Stiles voice rang out in the basement but he was cut off from whoever he was yelling to as the door slammed shut again, "Well that was rude!", he shouted in response to the loud noise which cut off the brighter stream of light in the room and left the boy in the darkened basement gazing up the stairs. "Oh god. No", Allison let out a harsh sobbing noise and Derek whined high pitched in the back of his throat.

We watched as Stiles looked around the dark basement as if trying to get his human sight to adjust to the darkness. Past me thrashed in my bonds as his eyes passed over Boyd and I and the boy startled at the movement, "Erica? Boyd?, Oh My God! Are you okay, what happened, who took you? I thought you guys ran away? Oh God, Derek didn't know! He would have been looking more for you if he knew! He thought that you guys just ran away from him! Crap! It's fine, Scott will come and get us". Scott whines are joined by Boyd and I's, Scott whispers under his breath, "I didn't know", beside him Isaac strokes a hand down his side and curls his fingers around Scott's. Stiles walks forward more so that he is in front of a twist and mumbling past me who very unattractively has all sorts of makeup running down her face and oh isn't being hung up in a basement against your will really damaging to someone's look.

As Stiles gets closer and closer looking up at the wires tying my wrists together past me begins to thrash a bit more in her bonds which sends phantom pains shooting up my wrists with the memory of the electricity. When Stiles begins to reach up to the wires in a hope to untie them past me starts to try and shout through the duck tape on her mouth and I find myself shouting, "Stiles NO!", even though he can't hear me. All Stiles does though in the memory is continue to reach up and shush me comfortingly and holds a finger up to his lips momentarily gazing up to the roof of the basement as if coming to the realisation that whom ever put him in here might not like any unneeded noise.