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Stiles stood in his bedroom door, vacillating between two impulses. He could climb into bed, continuing the charade he’d put on for Scott – that despite things being a bit freaky, everything was fine. Or he could do what he really felt like doing, and take refuge in dad’s bed. Dad’s bed was where nightmares and monsters couldn’t get you anymore, or at least it had been after mom died and the possibility of dad dying slammed home with a vengeance. Stiles checked his phone – 2:34 a.m. Dad would probably come home to eat breakfast and then head back out. If he set an alarm, he might not even get caught. He turned his back on his room, and curled up in Dad’s bed, alarm set for 7.
“Stiles,” said a voice that sounded remarkably like Dad. “Stiles, son, wake up.”
Head muzzy, Stiles flailed an arm, and was jolted awake when his hand was caught. “Whuzzit?”
“Stiles,” Dad said patiently, “wake up. I want to sleep for a few hours, and I’m not braving your room. What are you doing? You haven’t slept in here in years.”
Stiles swallowed. So much for that brilliant plan with the alarm clock. He pulled himself upright to give himself time to come up with an excuse. He could tell dad he’d had a bad night, and had needed the extra comfort, which had the benefit of being mostly true but given that Scott had been bitten by something last night and there would probably be consequences to that, it would also require more lying to dad. Stiles wasn’t brilliant at lying to dad. Dad could usually tell that he was lying, even if he didn’t know what Stiles was lying about. Or he could come clean about what he and Scott had done. It had, in retrospect, been really stupid to go out into the woods to look for a body. And it had resulted in Scott getting attacked, not to mention actually discovering half a body. Stiles was pretty sure that while Scott wouldn’t thank him for it, it would be better for both of them if he came clean.
Dad was watching him, looking a little concerned. “Stiles?” he asked, “Is everything alright?”
“I did something stupid last night, and I talked Scotty into it,” Stiles said, staring at the comforter.
Dad sighed, and Stiles could see him pinch the bridge of his nose. “Did you go into the woods?”
“Yeah. And Dad? I probably should have called it in, but let me tell you about the rest of it first before you get mad about it. So, uh, we found half a body. Like, pretty much tripped on it. Over it. And it was really weird and not okay and then Scott got attacked by like a wolf or something with crazy red eyes and I know we should have called someone but the bite didn’t look so bad once we left the woods, and we sorta just ran home.” Stiles glanced at his dad quickly, before looking back down at the comforter. “I’m really sorry, dad, and I hope I don’t get you in trouble at work.”
Dad sighed again. “Stiles,” he started and then paused. “Is Scott okay?”
Stiles pulled out his phone. “He hasn’t texted. I should probably check in with him, right?”
Dad nodded slowly, looking pained. “Please do that. Before we do anything else about what you just told me, Stiles, I want you to remember that I am the adult. My job is something I worry about, not you. I know you worry about elections, but I am the parent, and you don’t need to worry about it.”
Stiles nodded, a bit uncertainly. “But what if”
“Son, you can ‘what if’ with the best of them, but at the end of the day, my job is my concern. You can’t make me lose my job.” Dad sighed, and then sat on the bed next to Stiles. “Now, tell me where you were when you found the body, and then tell me more about whatever attacked Scott. Did you text him yet?”
Stiles looked down at his phone. “Yeah, but no answer.”
“We’ll give him another 10 minutes, while you fill me in, and then I’m going to call Melissa.”
Stiles winced at the thought of yet another lecture from Melissa about roping Scotty into danger, but nodded. “We were in the Preserve, over by the old Hale house. We had walked off the trail maybe ten minutes, and were following one of the dried up streams. Something caught the light just up the bank, so we climbed up, and found a watch. We left it there – didn’t touch it – and there was sort of a trail trampled, and we followed it. Scott asked me something and I turned and when I turned back the body was right there. Or, the half a body. It was buried a little, but not very deep, and we were just sort of staring at.” He shrugged his shoulders a little, rueful. “We didn’t really think we’d find anything. So we were just standing there when there was this growling. It was super creepy, but I guess it sounded like a dog. We shined the light around but didn’t see anything, so we started to back away the way we came. Then this big, black thing with red eyes just flew out of the trees and bit Scott in the side. I shouted, and it shook its head and ran back toward the body. Scott was bleeding and we just booked it once we were out of sight.”
Dad was staring at him. Stiles looked back down at his phone. Still no texts from Scott. He glanced up. Dad was still staring, but his hand was pinching the bridge of his nose now too.
“I could probably show you which stream we were in,” Stiles offered, testing the silence. Dad’s eyes closed once, too slow to be called a blink, and his hand briefly touched his temples.
Dad sighed. “Stiles, you have got to stop searching out crime scenes. I know that you are interested, that you think it’s cool, but when you do these things, you can compromise the crime scenes.”
Stiles winced. “It seems a lot less cool after last night,” he muttered.
“Either way, kiddo, enough is enough. Before we talk any more about last night, I’m telling you right now that I’m taking the keys to the jeep for at least two weeks.”
Stiles nodded.
“And when I get home from my shift tonight, you and I are going to have a long talk about responsibilities, maturity, and consequences,” Dad looked stern, and then sighed. “Tell me about Scott.”
Stiles shrugged, “He got bit by something. In the side. It looked like a dog, but yeah. Red eyes. And it was huge. Like, way, way, way too big to be a dog, but definitely dog-shaped. Dog adjacent. And like, the body didn’t look like it was being eaten, which was my first guess, that we disturbed its meal? Cause animals don’t just attack like that out of nowhere. But it just flew at Scottie and he was bleeding everywhere. Like, I’m super nervous that he hasn’t texted back, even though by the time we got back toward town he was doing better? My clothes were covered in blood and I just. Well. Maybe you should call Melissa? Now? Please?”
Dad pulled out his phone. "You stay here," he said, pointing at Stiles, and then stepped out into the hall. "Hello Melissa? Sorry to call so early - No, Stiles is fine. He and Scott went into the woods last night; he says Scott got bit by some animal and hasn't responded to his texts. . . Yeah, I can wait." Dad ducked back into his room, hand covering the bottom of the phone. "Stiles," he said, "up-and-at-'em. Go shower and get dressed. Table in fifteen minutes, kiddo."
Stiles pulled himself out of bed, and slipped past dad. As he passed, dad reached out a hand for a moment, resting it on his shoulder. "It took guts to 'fess up, Stiles. Even if I'm not super pleased with your choices last night, I am proud of you."
As he stepped into the shower, he could just hear his dad talking to Melissa again. Somehow, despite everything from the night before, that spark of pleasure from dad's approval, coupled with the mundanity of dad and Melissa figuring out how to punish him and Scott, eased Stiles nerves, and he turned the water on with a lighter heart.