Don't Make it Personal AA/TW

Ephemeral

CHAPTER 1 - Ephemeral (Prologue)

It was a cool summer day in France. The trees slowly swaying in the crisp wind.

Stiles' had always liked sunsets. He found peace in watching the natural light cascading through the bustling city leisurely hide itself within the hills. The pink undertones in the sky appearing only for a few moments before disappearing once again. It reminded him that just like life, the days remained ephemeral.

Stiles' had gotten used to everything around him being transient. No more than a passing thought. He wasn't the easiest person to keep in contact with. Not since Spain. Not since he left his friends and family behind. He couldn't afford to look back. Instead, he considered himself to be a ghost. A mere blip in others timelines. Sticking around just long enough to get a job done before moving on. Never letting anything get personal. Stan drilled that into his head a long time ago. Stiles couldn't afford to know anyone. Not anymore.

Sometimes Stiles would find himself lying awake at night, staring at the popcorn ceiling of whatever motel room he'd been staying in. The agents eyes squeezing shut and his jaw clenched at the thought of his past life. The box TV on the dresser always illuminating the small space with white noise. It was never enough to stop his thoughts. He missed his friends, his dad. Katrina.

After Stiles and Lydia broke up nearing end of his first year at the Academy, he met Katrina. The beautiful blonde who pulled on his heart strings like she knew all the words to his favourite songs. They had been perfect for each other. Stiles' didn't expect to move on so quickly, but they had just fit. They fit like two little puzzle pieces who couldn't stand to be pushed apart.

During Stiles' second year, she had met the pack. The whole group warmed right up to Katrina. Pulling her into their fucked up fold. Life had been good, great even. For the first time since he was 16, Stiles' days weren't filled with supernatural mysteries and unprecedented deaths. He was going to marry her. Had told the whole pack his plan to propose before graduation. Endlessly phoning Scott with an array of romantical ideas and extravagant plans. His dad forking out the cash for a romantic trip to Spain. He didn't expect for it to happen like this.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was beating down on the couple as they waded through the shallow waters in Ibiza. There was so much purity in that moment. So much innocence Stiles would never be able to grasp again.

No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to shake the image of Katrina's body laying in the sand. Her eyes wide open staring at him in silent judgement almost whispering: 'why didn't you save me?'

With all the supernatural crap that's happened in the young man's life, Stiles thought he could at least protect Katrina from humans. And so Stiles took his last breath with her. His whole world melting into the warm sand. Although he's psychically alive, Stiles drifted away on the beach with Katrina. What remains is Mitch. A man who, with his track record, he's not sure his dad would ever be able to look in the eyes.

Stiles hoped his father was taking care of himself. He hadn't even seen a glimpse of his dad in 10 years. He would occasionally check the government database with bated breaths, not sure if the word deceased would appear next to the Sheriff's name. It never does.

Stiles' checks up on all of them. He knows that Scott's taken up Deaton's veterinarian practice and is married now. Probably with kids on the way. Knows that Lydia is a professor of Mathematics in the fall at Berkley and comes back every summer to do her research at home.

He even saw that Derek had returned to Beacon Hills 5 years ago as a deputy. He's glad they're all doing well. He knows it's selfish to check in. His old pack didn't have the same privilege.

Stiles' made sure his name wound up on the list of the dead. Made sure his family was stuck burying an empty casket. It was down right cruel. If he could go back and do things differently he would. But as of now, he knows it's better to stay away. It wouldn't be fair to waltz back into their lives like he had never left.

Stiles' knows his line of work means that he might not make it to the next sunset. Might never be able to watch the shadows elongate as the sun plays its daily game of hide and seek again.

'Ephemeral' Stiles thinks to himself as he sits atop a building in Paris, watching the passerby's fade in and out of view. That's what he is.

lasting for a very short time.

Authors Note: This is the prologue, but could technically be a one-shot. If you enjoyed it please comment and like! It's a great motivator.