Hi all! I recently found this amazing fandom called Teen Wolf, and it quickly took over my life. Haha! As I was re-watching the first season an idea came to me: what would happen if one thing went differently in the episode Code Breaker? This is what came from that thought.

The story will only be about two chapters long and will make use of dialogue from the show. No copyright infringement was intended. This story is purely made for entertainment purposes! Also there is slightly bad language, but nothing that wouldn't already been found on the show.

I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter One

Running his hands through his hair Sheriff Stilinski sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. Another animal attack had just been called in. This time a young girl was attacked on the school's lacrosse field. The same lacrosse field his son played on regularly…well the same lacrosse field his son sat on the bench regularly. Stepping into the elevator John's mind went once again to the unsettled feeling that he had been dealing with all day. Watching the floor numbers light up above the steel doors the sheriff's fingers twitched by his pocket, itching to call Stiles to make sure he was okay. However, before he could pull out his phone the decision was made for him as the elevator doors opened with a ding. Pushing his fatherly instincts aside John slipped easily into sheriff mode and strode with purpose to the first doctor he saw.

Sheriff Stilinski absorbed all the information the doctor could give him with stoic professionalism. His demeanor only changing slightly when he found out the girl's name. The victim, Lydia Martin, was a name he was very familiar with. Since Stiles came home one day in the third grade completely enamored by the green eyed girl, the name Lydia Martin was uttered at least once a day in their household. Once again the sheriff's fingers itched for his phone weighing heavily in his pocket, but he knew he had a job to do first.

After speaking with the doctor John relayed the information to one of his best deputies Aaron Brooks. Just as the sheriff was finishing up his orders the elevator doors opened to reveal Lydia's known boyfriend Jackson Whittemore. The person who called the attack in.

Grabbing ahold of Jackson's shoulder Sheriff Stilinski quietly uttered. "Hey." However, when it became apparent that the teenager was trapped in a daze John spoke more forcefully. "Hey! What the Hell happened to that girl?"

Jackson's eyes bounced around frantically never settling on one thing in particular. "I…I don't know. I went out looking for her-"

"What you just happen to wander into the middle of that field and you just found her there like that?! Don't lie to me, Son." The sheriff practically growled. His patience thinner than usual.

Eyes wide with fear or possible shock Jackson scrambled to answer. "No I wou-" The young man began but was effectively cutoff by John gathering the shoulders of Jackson's suit jacket and pushing him up against the wall just behind them.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?!"

"THIS ISN'T MY FAULT!"

"SHE'S YOUR GIRLFRIEND!" The Sheriff continued to yell, indicating with a tilt of his head towards the room Lydia was resting in. "THAT'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY!"

"No she's not! Okay she didn't go to the formal with me." Jackson shot back, his voice lowering, but instantly regretting his words.

"Then who'd she go with?" John asked in a much quieter voice as the uneasy feeling assaulting his stomach intensified.

Jackson swallowed before asking in an almost apologetic tone. "Do you really want to know?" The teen's light blue eyes flickered over the sheriff's face. "She went with Stiles."

John's heart faltered. "What?" The word coming out unsteady, betraying his concern.

"Stiles took her." Jackson answered back in a whisper.

The sheriff released his hold on the teenage boy and stepped back in disbelief. In a slight daze John turned back to Brooks and instantly told him to get a BOLO out on Stiles' and his jeep. "You let me know the moment anyone sees him!"

The dark-haired deputy paused in his note taking and looked up at his boss inquisitively. "Stiles? Why?"

"That girl in there was my son's date to the dance and he isn't here. On its own maybe that wouldn't be too suspicious, but since my son has been obsessed with that very girl for years, and he still isn't here then something or someone is keeping him from being here. We have to find him. I want him found now!" As John spoke he twisted the wedding ring on his finger. A nervous habit he developed when his wife first fell ill that stuck with him all these years.

"You got it, Sir. I'll let you know the second anything comes up."

"Thank you, Brooks." Letting out a shaky breath with energy draining John turned slowly with worried eyes to look at Lydia's resting and pale form. Whispering to himself, "Somebody better find my son."

The squealing of tires bounced off the walls of an underground parking garage as the light blue jeep came to a halt. "Great. Here we are…in a creepy parking garage." Stiles mumbled to himself, clenching the steering wheel of his beloved jeep to stop the sudden shaking of his hands as he breathed out quietly.

Peter Hale eyed the teen's hands and smirked. "Get out."

Grinding his teeth Stiles started toward the door but hesitated suddenly with his hand hovering over the handle. "Why a parking garage? I mean it is very villain cliché and everything, but-"

"Get out of the car, Stiles." Peter continued patiently.

"Right of course, but it just doesn't seem like the best place-"

"There isn't a heartbeat anywhere nearby which means…no will be able to hear you scream." Peter's lips stretched into a predatory smile; his fangs sliding out and the color of his eyes shifting to red.

Stiles' heart-rate spiked with fright and his chest tightened, as the all too familiar feeling of an oncoming panic attack tried to take hold.

However, before the panic attack had a chance to fully begin Peter spoke again. This time chuckling lightly. "Stiles, I'm kidding. Now get out of the car or I'll pull you out."

The pale teen gawked at the werewolf in astonishment mouth hanging open slightly before shaking his head and exiting the jeep. By the time Stiles was slamming the door closed Peter was already standing next to him. Startled, Stiles stepped back on instinct but didn't get far as the Alpha swiftly took hold of the back of the boy's white dress shirt.

"Hey!" Stiles shouted indignantly.

Peter ignored the young teen's protests and calming manhandled him towards a dark car parked down only a few meters.

"Whose car is this?" Stiles asked his voice filled with confusion.

The werewolf released his hold on his captive's shirt and began fiddling with a set of keys. "It belonged to my nurse."

Curiosity won out over fear as Stiles felt the need to ask, "What happened to your nur-"

With ease Peter opened the trunk revealing the dead corpse of his nurse next to a grey bag.

"Oh, my God!" The teenager stared in horror at the body carelessly thrown in the trunk. His heart hammering in his chest. He didn't even remove his gaze as the alpha thrust the bag from the trunk into his arms.

Noticing his captive's distraction Peter looked back and forth between Stiles and his nurse and callously stated, "I got better." Before slamming the trunk closed once more.

Without warring the alpha yanked the bag from Stiles' hands and began unloading it. The pale teenager watched his captor while trying to calm his buzzing nerves, and when he saw the werewolf pull out a laptop he easily fell back on his sarcastic defense mechanism.

"Good luck getting a signal down here." Stiles commented defiantly.

Without missing a beat Peter handed Stiles a small device.

"Oh MiFi." Stiles said in disappointment when he realized what the werewolf handed him, heart sinking. "And you're a Mac guy." He said shaking his head slightly in frustration as Peter booted up his Mac. Annoyed the teen continued. "Does that go for all werewolves or is that just a personal preference?"

The alpha werewolf stepped back and gave Stiles an unamused look, tiling his head slightly in warning. "Turn it on. Get connected." He ordered coolly.

Breaths coming in short pants, Stiles racked his brain for anything he could say or do to get out of this situation. Coming up empty the young teen resigned himself to the fact that he would just have to what he was order. "You know you're really killing the whole werewolf mystic thing here."

Leaning forward Stiles began setting up the MiFi when an idea struck him. Clearing his throat Stiles sent a silent prayer that this would work. "Look you still need Scott's username and password, and I'm sorry but I don't know them." He said with as much conviction as he could gather.

The words were barely out of his mouth when Peter contradicted them. "You know both of them."

Somewhat annoyed by the, albeit accurate, claim, Stiles pushed on with his play forcefully. "No I don't."

Peter leaned in closer. "Even if I couldn't hear your heartbeat. I would still be able to tell that you're lying."

"Dude I swear to God-"

In a flash of sudden movement Peter gripped Stiles by the back of the head and slammed his face onto the trunk of the car. Stiles grunted in discomfort, and tried to breathe through the painful sting radiating from the impact to his cheek. Stunned still, and painfully aware of the unbreakable grip holding him in place, Stiles ground his teeth to keep from making a comment that would only anger the werewolf further.

Agonizingly slow Peter leaned in close to Stiles' face and spoke once again in a steady and calm voice. "I can be very persuasive, Stiles. Don't make me persuade you."

Closing his eyes tightly, Stiles tried to swallow the fear threatening to suffocate him.

"Sheriff! We just got a hit on Stiles' jeep! Someone saw your son's jeep turning into a parking garage on Hillcrest Road." Brooks said in a rush.

John listened to his deputy, all-the-while a feeling in his gut telling him he had to hurry. "Are they sure it's Stiles' jeep?"

Brooks face fell immediately into an intense worried expression. "The witness said they saw Stiles driving and they think, but aren't entirely sure, that another man was sitting in the passenger seat with him."

Before John could say anything another of his deputies came running towards him. She was a relatively new hire but was smarter than most, and quickly took to Stiles. One of the only deputies that could handle Stiles' frenzied energy all day and not complain one bit.

The young blond woman stopped next to the two slightly out-of-breath. "Sheriff Stilinski! I was just talking to one of the staff about how I was worried about a friend of mine being missing…Stiles. And she said one of their nurses has gone missing as well. I didn't think much of it until she told me the nurse was the primary caregiver for a burn victim named Peter Hale, who it turns out is also missing. I remembered you had been looking into the Hale fire recently and I thought it might be relevant."

The puzzle pieces began forming in his head, making John certain this Peter Hale was somehow responsible for the recent deaths happening in Beacon Hills. The sheriff's chest tightened as his mind caught up to the situation fully. This possible murderer was most likely with his son at this very moment. What did he want with Stiles? How did his son get caught up in all this? Whatever the answers John knew they had to move quickly.

"Yes I think you're right, Deidra. Can you get me a picture of Peter Hale? We'll need one to confirm it's him with Stiles when we find them."

The blond swiftly nodded her head in the affirmative and ran off to fulfill the request. John watched her go for a moment taking a deep breath to settle his emotions. "Gather a couple of deputies and get ready to leave for the garage as soon as we have that picture."

"Yes Sir."

Stiles looked down at his now useless keys before noticing Peter making his way to the driver's side of his nurse's car. "So you're not gonna kill me?"

The alpha werewolf turned back and Stiles' stomach dropped. "Oh God." The pale teen sputtered as he stumbled back a step.

"Don't you understand yet? I'm not the bad guy here." Peter spoke in a light voice, conviction in his words bleeding through.

Stiles scoffed. "You turn into a giant monster with red eyes and fangs, and you're not the bad guy here?"

Exhaling Peter looked at the dark-haired teen with interest. "I like you Stiles."

Clearly upset, Stiles shook his head at the alpha's words. A cold feeling washing over him as his need to get away increased rapidly. The teenager just knowing this line of conversation wasn't heading in a direction he wanted.

Peter didn't see Stiles' action or didn't care, and just continue speaking. "Since you've helped me, I'm going to give you something in return."

Whiskey-colored eyes connected with Peter's cold ones, guarded with clear unease.

"Do you want the bite?"

The Sheriff and his three deputies crept slowly into the bottom level of the parking garage, following the quiet voices echoing off the concrete walls. Taking cover behind a pillar, John peeked carefully around the solid object, but the sight that greeted him almost made his knees buckle beneath him.

Stiles stood only an arm's length away from the man who the sheriff quickly identified as Peter Hale. Hale held his son's wrist in a tight grip up near his mouth, causing a sick feeling to pool in the pit of John's stomach. Just as the sheriff was about to run to his son's aid, not giving a damn about procedure, Stiles yanked his hand free. A small part of the sheriff felt relief as he watched his son taking small measured steps away from his captor. He only needed him to move away just a little bit more and then he could make his move. However, the relief John felt was short-lived as Peter countered each of Stiles' steps only moments later.

Straining his ears the older Stilinski tried to hear what was being said. "Do you know what I heard just then? Your heart beating slightly faster over the words 'I don't want.' You may believe that you're telling me the truth, but you are lying to yourself."

Not being able to stand it anymore Sheriff Stilinski motioned for his deputies to follow him and leapt from his hiding spot. "Peter Hale! This is The Beacon Hills County Sheriff's Department! Step away from the young man and slowly raise your hands where we can see them!" John Stilinski's commanding voice sounded firmly.

Both Peter and Stiles' heads snapped to the other side of the quiet parking garage where the sheriff stood flanked by three of his deputies; all armed.

The oldest surviving hale smiled brightly. "Well would you look at that. Daddy came to the rescue. I must say I'm impressed, Sheriff. Your response time was much better than I was expecting, and you even figured out who I am. I'm guessing you haven't figured out the how though." The oldest Hale taunted lazily.

"Dad-" Stiles started but was interrupted by Peter.

"What do you say, Stiles? Should we tell Daddy what's going on here?" Peter asked his captive moving in closer to the teenager. "Maybe we should tell him where your buddy Scott is right now? Huh?" He finished in a whisper while emphasizing his words with a wink.

The Sheriff took a cautious step forward his aim never wavering from the danger standing just in front of his son. "Don't you dare talk to my hear me?! You want to say something then you can say it to me. Now put your hands up and step back!"

Stiles felt sick. He looked frantically between his father and the dangerous werewolf. His mind racing for a solution to this disastrous situation, but every thought in his mind was screaming at him to get his dad away. "Dad…you…you don't understand…please." Taking a few small steps towards his father Stiles continued in a shaky voice. "Dad please just…just go. You need to leave. It's not safe."

Confusion passed over John's face with his son's pleading words, but he didn't have time to think about the meaning behind them as Peter moved closer to Stiles, hand reaching out.

"Take one more step towards my son and I will put a bullet between your eyes, Hale." John threatened tightening his grip on his weapon.

Peter hummed and widened his smile, clearly enjoying every second of the situation. "I'd really like to see you try, Sheriff." The werewolf emphasized his threat with glowing red eyes, snatching Stiles' arm and pulling the teen to his chest faster than human sight could follow.

Stiles yelped in surprise and pain as his arm was wrenched painfully back. Struggling instantly in panic the teen tried to get free from the crushing grip. "NO, let me go! AAH!"

Breathing in deeply Peter closed his eyes briefly in pleasure. "Do you know what my favorite scent is?"

When no response was given Peter let his claws slowly extend, piercing the delicate flesh of Stiles' upper arm. The werewolf waited until the young man inhale sharply in discomfort before continuing in a singsong manner. "Stiles?"

The teen turned his terrified honey-brown eyes to connect with his father's worried ones as he answered his captor resolutely. "No."

Peter's cold gaze moved from the side of Stiles' face, sweeping over the police officers, and finally settling on John. "Fear is my absolute favorite scent. It has such a lovely smell to it; it's intoxicating. And do you know what, Sheriff? Your son smells overwhelmingly…deliciously of fear, but what's interesting is that it's not fear for himself, which it should be. No it's fear for you."

Stiles started to struggle again as he spoke in a rush of words. "Peter please…don't hurt him. He has absolutely nothing to do with any of this. If you want to take me…fine. Just don't hurt my dad."

John's heart clenched tightly in his chest as he watched his son bargain for his life with no regard for his own. The only other time John felt as helpless as he did now was watching his wife slowly deteriorate in a hospital bed. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to lose another person he loved. No! He would not let that happen! He couldn't lose Stiles. "Stiles, look at me!"

Obediently, his son's watery and desperate gaze found his. In that moment the sheriff was not looking into the eyes of his teenage son but of his little boy, pleading for his mother to come back home, looking to his father to make the nightmares go away. So he smiled confidently, even-though he couldn't feel any farther from confident at the moment. "Don't worry, Kiddo. Everything is going to be okay. Alright?"

"Dad, you don't understand. Please just go…I can't lose you too." Stiles said desperately a few tears slowly trailing down his mole dotted face.

"Now you listen to me, Stiles. I'm not going anywhere. We made a promise. Remember? We're gonna take care of each other; look out for each other. Right? I'm going to get you home. Nothing is going to happen to either of us." John promised passionately and stepped closer to his son and the man holding him captive with each sentence.

"As entertaining as this is I have somewhere to be, as you know, Stiles." Peter said smirking.

John's grip tightened once more on his firearm. His knuckles turning white with the strain. "You're not going anywhere."

"Oh, but I think I am." The alpha werewolf sprang into action, tossing Stiles back against the dark car, and viciously lunging for the officers.

Stiles' body slammed loudly against the car before falling heavily to the ground on his side. Crying out in pain the young teen wrapped his arm protectively around his middle, gripping his side with a shaking hand in an attempt to numb the radiating agony there. The feeling of sharp needles stabbing his side intensified with each breath the teen took, and he knew without a doubt that at least one of his ribs was broken. Blinking away the dark spots in his vision, Stiles looked to the last place he saw his father.

"No." The young man sobbed brokenly. His sight blurred with tears as he crawled to his dad's side, pain ripping through his body the whole way.

Sheriff Stilinski laid unmoving on the cold ground blood lazily sliding down the side of his face from a deep gash above his temple. The moment Stiles reached his father he searched for a pulse, and exhaled in relief when he quickly found a strong thumping beneath his fingertips. Scanning his dad for any other injuries the teenager thankfully found none, but as his deep honey-colored eyes lifted he recoiled at Brooks' lifeless gaze staring back at him. Swallowing a sudden burning in his throat Stiles looked carefully over the other deputies that came to rescue him and felt like breaking down then and there. None of the other deputies were moving, but he couldn't tell for sure if they still lived or not.

"Get up, Stiles." Peter commanded from the opposite side of the sheriff's prone form.

The young man squeezed his eyes closed, willing this nightmare away. But when he opened them again Peter Hale, malicious alpha werewolf, and all around psychopath, was still towering over him and his unconscious dad. "Just leave us alone. I did everything you asked! You know where Derek is. You don't need me anymore!"

The oldest surviving Hale knelt down to be eye level with his prey. "Thanks to daddy dearest here, Scott undoubtable is already with my nephew, and mostly likely poisoning him against me. I now need a contingency plan, and that's where you come in."

Stiles' fingers curled unconsciously into his father's uniform for support. "What are you going to do?" The teen hesitantly asked in a voice just above a whisper.

Peter grinned, and straightened his body, before moving to the dark-haired teenager's side. Stiles' heart hammered in his chest as frantic thoughts raced through his mind.

The boy flew into a full blow panic when the werewolf's clawed hand gripped his upper arm. "No…no…no! Leave me alone! Peter STOP! Oh God! I…I can't leave my dad like this!" Stiles shouted while he was literally dragged from his father's side towards Peter's nurse's car.

They reached the passenger side of the car and Peter pushed Stiles up against the unrelenting metal to open the door. "Let…let me call an ambulance. Please, I…I'll come with you. Otherwise, I swear to God you will regret taking me. I won't shut up, even for a second. And I could do it you know. I could talk and talk and talk. Drive you even more out of your mind then you already are, I swear."

When Peter still didn't look swayed, Stiles used the door opening as a distraction. Slamming his elbow into the side of the alpha's face to knock him aside Stiles bolted towards his dad's radio. Knowing he wouldn't be able to out run a supernatural creature Stiles' only goal was to call for help to come for his dad. However, just as his slender fingers grazed the hard plastic of the radio, pain exploded in Stiles' side, and his breath was stolen from his lungs.

"AAH!" The young man cried out and struggled sluggishly in the werewolf tight grip around his middle. Thrashing to no avail Stiles' watched his father got farther and farther away from him, knowing he failed to protect him. Knowing he failed to call for help. Tears fell from his eyes as the young man realized this was probably going to be the last time he ever saw his dad.

Defeated, Stiles stopped fighting and glared at Peter with all the hatred he felt. "You're a monster. No matter what you want to say about how you're only punishing those responsible for the fire, it's not true. You're a liar. My dad didn't do anything. Deputy Brooks didn't do anything. You said I was the one lying to myself, but that's you."

Peter Hale didn't say a word as he yanked open the passenger door and shoved Stiles inside. He didn't say anything as he took both of the abused teen's wrist in hand and snapped his own father's handcuffs securely in place. Nor did he speak when he loudly slammed the door closed, trapping the young man inside. And he decidedly didn't say anything as he took Stiles' cell phone he had confiscated early out of his pocket, dialed 911, dropped the objected to the ground as it connected, and jumped into the car before speeding away with screeching tires.

End of chapter one. Please review and let me know what you thought of the first chapter. Feedback is always appreciated! What do you think will happen next? How will it all end? Thank you so much for reading! Until next time...