Stiles is a Mikaelson(Rewritten)

Chapter 34

Previously on

Stiles is a Mikaelson

Stiles's Pov

Rebekah sighed, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and resignation. "I just hope he's okay, wherever he is."

We all fell silent for a moment, each of us lost in our thoughts about the absent sibling. But the moment passed quickly, and the conversation shifted back to lighter topics.

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Stiles's Pov

The day started like any other. Damon and I woke up early, navigating the morning chaos of getting the triplets ready for preschool. At three years old, Cayley, Henry, and Asher were bundles of energy, making even the simplest tasks—like getting dressed—a full-blown adventure.

"Daddy, I can't find my shoe!" Asher shouted from his room, his voice filled with the mild panic of a preschooler facing a crisis.

"It's under the bed, buddy!" I called back halfway through tying Henry's shoes while Cayley attempted to put her shirt on backward.

"Need some help in there?" Damon asked with a grin as he walked into the room, holding Asher's other shoe.

"Yes, please," I replied with a sigh, offering him a grateful smile.

We eventually managed to get everyone dressed and fed, and as we loaded the kids into the car, I couldn't help but think about how much our lives had changed over the past few years. The chaos, the joy—it was everything I had ever wanted, but lately, I'd been feeling the urge to do something more with my time. I loved being a dad, but I wanted to find a way to contribute to the community and help struggling people.

Once the triplets were safely dropped off at preschool, Damon and I headed back home. The house was blissfully quiet—an odd sensation after the morning's hustle and bustle.

"I've been thinking about something," I said as we walked through the front door, dropping our keys on the table.

Damon raised an eyebrow, looking curious. "Oh? What's on your mind?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I've been thinking about getting a job. Something meaningful, something that lets me help people."

Damon looked at me with interest, his expression thoughtful. "What kind of job are you thinking about?"

"I've been considering social work," I admitted, feeling a flutter of nerves as I said the words out loud. "I know it's challenging, but I really want to make a difference in people's lives. I want to help kids and families who are going through tough times."

Damon nodded slowly, his gaze steady and supportive. "That sounds like a great idea, Stiles. You've always been someone who cares deeply about others, and I think you'd be fantastic at it."

I felt a surge of relief and excitement at his words. "Really? You think so?"

"Absolutely," Damon replied, his voice filled with conviction. "You've got a big heart, and you're smart and resourceful. Those are qualities that would make you an incredible social worker."

I smiled, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "Thanks, Damon. That means a lot to me."

He reached out and took my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "So, what's the next step? Have you looked into any positions?"

"I have," I said, feeling the excitement build. "There's an opening at the Beacon Hills Department of Social Services. I was thinking about applying."

Damon's eyes lit up with encouragement. "Then go for it, Stiles. I'll support you every step of the way."