Title: Ruthless Revenge
Author: Claire Watson (myredturtle)
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: offscreen Stiles/Derek
Characters: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski
Word Count: 796
Warnings: No beta. Minor torture of a major character.
“This really isn’t necessary,” Scott said desperately, straining at the mountain ash enhanced wolfsbane vine that kept him tied securely to the chair that he had woken up in.
“Oh, I think it is,” came the ominous reply from the next room. “Don’t be in such a hurry, Scotty. I promise the show won’t start without you. After all, you’re the… target audience, shall we say?”
“Can’t we talk about this?” Scott tried. “I’ve changed. I’ve grown up, I’m different now. It’s not right to hold the mistakes I made when I was so much younger against me.”
A scornful laugh greeted his words. “Well, maybe I don’t care about ‘what’s right’, Scott. I care about getting my due. And you’ll be getting what’s coming to you. I’ve waited a long time for this, you know.”
“Why can’t you just leave the past where it belongs?” Scott asked plaintively, hating the whine that had crept into his voice. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Need?” his tormentor scoffed, finally walking into view. “When has any of this ever been about need?”
“You’re better than this, Stiles,” Scott said, trying again. He couldn’t let his oldest friend do this. “What would your dad say? Derek?”
“You know, that’s a really good point! I don’t know, Scotty,” Stiles said with patently false concern. “Why don’t we try calling them?” He got out his phone and hit speed-dial one. Nothing happened. “Oh, silly me!” Stiles said, turning the phone so that Scott could see that the phone was blank. “I must have forgotten to charge it!”
“You can use mine?” Scott suggested before he thought better of that plan. He should have kept quiet in the hope that Stiles wouldn’t have thought to ensure they couldn’t be traced. Although another moment’s reflection was enough for him to concede that it was highly unlikely that Stiles hadn’t already thought of that. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment ambush, after all. From the set-up, this must have been planned for some time.
“Here we are!” Stiles said cheerfully. “Bad news Scotty! Looks like we’re in a reception dead zone! Now that’s really too bad. I’m sure I can find some way to entertain you for the next little while. I mean, I’m a little surprised at your level of concern for Derek’s welfare. I mean, I know you haven’t always been his biggest fan.”
Stiles’ voice grew stern. “You know that Derek’s not the bad guy, right Scott? It would be terrible if you hadn’t learnt better over the years.”
“Of course I know that,” Scott said nervously.
“Hearing you say that makes me feel so great!” Stiles said, all cheery again. “But I’m afraid it’s not going to stop what I have planned for this afternoon.”
Scott looked with horror at the equipment that had been arrayed so carefully before him. “Stiles please,” he begged. It was one thing knowing that Stiles tended to be vengeful, it was another thing entirely to be on the receiving end of it.
“I know how much you hate seeing your friends and loved ones in pain,” came the mocking reply. “I promise this won’t hurt me one bit.” He patted his pocket with a slight frown. “Hang on, I’m still missing something. I won’t be long, don’t go anywhere now.”
Scott strained at his bonds again, hoping against hope that they would give and he could escape this nightmare.
“Here we are?” Stiles said. He tutted gently. “Now Scott, be careful or you’ll hurt yourself. We wouldn’t want that now, would we? I’d hate for you to miss out on anything. Here, let me make sure you get the full benefit.”
He pulled out some thick black tape and taped Scott’s mouth closed with one swift motion.
“There. Now let’s begin, shall we?”
He pressed a button and the projector turned on, the first picture one of Stiles and Derek, both of them shirtless and kissing heatedly.
Scott made a noise like a dying whale.
Stiles patted him on his leg. “Now, now, we’ve got all afternoon and most of the night for this. There’ll be texture demonstrations and poetry and even a couple of short videos. Seven hours of this you owe me, and that’s just for Allison. We better get started.
“Now this one was taken at the mid-summer barbecue where Derek and I first jumped each other,” Stiles said, pressing the button again to give a close-up of Derek’s abs. “That’s the first time I got my hands on those muscles in a sexy context, rather than when I was trying to stuff his insides back where they belonged…”
Scott felt despair consume him. He knew Stiles. He was going to have no mercy.
It was going to be a long night.