willow | d. hale [on hold]

34 | a losing battle

look, you didn't hear this from me, but something happened between stiles and willow at that party.

[ 3.18 ]

The night quickly descended into chaos as Scott got a panicked call from Stiles. He was missing, trapped somewhere cold and dark, claiming to be bleeding. Desperate to find him, Scott gathered Isaac and called Derek, demanding he meet them at Stiles' house for help tracking his scent.

When they arrived, the three of them ran down the hall and spotted Aiden and Lydia there already, staring at Stiles' closed bedroom door.

"How did you know?" Scott asked Lydia in surprise. He hadn't texted either of them about it. "Did he call you, too?"

"I heard it," Lydia said, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared at the door.

"Don't ask," Aiden instructed, seeing their confused faces. "It gets more confusing when you ask.

"Okay," Isaac muttered. "Let's go grab a scent."

Scott pushed open the door and they all piled in while Aiden reached for the light switch. Immediately, their eyes were drawn to two things, both on the bed. The first was Willow, who was sleeping on the left side, only wearing one of Stiles' shirts. The other — and more alarming of the two — was the pair of scissors stabbed into the mattress on Stiles' side. There were at least twenty pieces of red yarn tied to it, connecting to his board for unsolved cases.

"Stiles," Willow groaned, shoving her head in the pillow. Scribbles, who was curled up by the headboard, let out a tired mewl as well. "Turn the light off."

"Willow," Derek called. He tried to keep his jealousy from seeing her in Stiles' bed wearing only his shirt and underwear at bay. They still had to find Stiles.

Willow sat up, hearing Derek's voice. She looked at all of them crowded in Stiles' room in alarm. But then her eyes caught sight of the scissors next to her.

"Where's Stiles?" Willow asked, glancing back at them with wide eyes. "What's happening?"

"We don't know where he's at," Scott told her. "He called me. He's trapped somewhere and he's injured, but he doesn't know where. We all came here to try and find a clue."

"And we've only got one really confusing clue," Isaac muttered, eyes still on the red thread.

Willow got on her knees and ran a finger along the yarn, staring at the side of the bed where Stiles usually slept. "He uses red for unsolved cases."

"Maybe he thinks he's part of an unsolved case?" Aiden guessed.

"Or is an unsolved case," Isaac suggested.

"Hold on," Willow said, scrambling off the bed. Scott's words finally processed in her tired brain. "Is he still out there? You don't know where he is?"