(Blue Moon 💙🐺) Teen wolf x Twilight

Chapter One: 🐺

"Scott? Hey, man... I know you're in a dark place. I am too... Call me when you get this."

Stiles stared at his phone, willing the screen to light up with a call or text, but nothing came. Scott hadn't responded to his calls, his texts, or his messages on any social media. Lydia was the same. Hell, he'd even tried reaching out to Derek and his pack out of desperation, but nothing.

The Nogitsune might be gone, but Stiles wasn't. And whatever was left of him didn't feel like the old Stiles—not after all the death, pain, and destruction he'd caused while possessed. If anyone could still tell the difference between Stiles and the Nogitsune, it didn't matter. They couldn't look at him without seeing the damage.

He understood that.

He couldn't stand to look at his reflection either.

But despite everything, he was desperate—desperate for companionship, for normalcy. He just wanted a conversation, something simple and ordinary. The weather. The Mets. Anything but the supernatural.

Even as he tuned into the news to escape into something bigger than himself, the screams of the Nogitsune's victims echoed in his mind. He started carrying his iPod around, using music to drown it out. It didn't help much, but it helped enough to make it through the day.

Not to the extent it did when he was possessed, but he had trouble getting warm. He wore sweaters constantly, dragging an old space heater down from the attic. His sleep schedule was garbage, and whatever little sleep he did get was haunted by nightmares.

He wasn't coping well.

And it showed.

"I have an idea..."

Stiles snapped his gaze up at his father's voice, surprised. He hadn't noticed him come in. Quickly, he switched off the TV and tried to mask the tension in his voice. "I'm fine, Dad. Just... an off day."

But his dad was sharper than that. Now that he knew about the supernatural, everything was different between them. They were in a better place than ever, a place built on real trust.

"It's not fine, Stiles. You're not okay. And that's okay. What you went through... it's not something that just goes away." Sheriff Stilinski sat beside him on the couch, pulling him into a hug.

It was the closest thing to warmth Stiles had felt in a long time.

"So, what's your idea? See a shrink?" Stiles scoffed. "I don't think our insurance covers it... I've looked. And what do I even tell them? Not the truth—therapy's about honesty, right? Unless they think I'm speaking in metaphors or that I'm actually insane. And since I admitted myself into Eichen House, they'll think that and probably lock me back in, and I am not—"

"Stiles!" His dad cut him off, looking at him with such concern that Stiles stopped talking.

He finished his thought in a low voice. "I'm not going back in there."

"No, you're not. I won't let that happen. You're right. We're beyond shrinks. I was thinking..." Sheriff Stilinski hesitated, then looked at him seriously. "You go away for a while. A year, maybe. Maybe even the rest of high school."

Stiles pulled away, eyes wide. He thought his dad was joking. "Good one, Dad." But the Sheriff didn't laugh.

Stiles' laughter faded as the reality sank in. "But Dad, you need me."

"I need you to be safe," the Sheriff said, his voice firm. "I need you to be okay... and not just physically. I know you can fight. Hell, you've been fighting these things since you were a kid. But you're only human, Stiles. You need a break. You need a break before you break."

Stiles scoffed bitterly. "Heh... I think it's too late for that."

"No, Stiles," his father said, his tone softening. "It's not. You've bent, almost broken, but you're not broken yet."

Stiles fell quiet, letting his father's words sink in. The thought of leaving Beacon Hills, leaving behind everything, was suffocating. But maybe it was necessary. Especially when his friends, his pack, had just left him to deal with this alone.

"Where would I even go?" he asked quietly.

"I have a friend," the Sheriff said. "We've gotten close over the years—Sheriff conventions, calls, emails. A support group for single sheriff parents. I'd send you to Jody in Sioux Falls, but she's got three girls already. But Charlie in Forks, Washington—he'd be happy to have you. He's already agreed."

Stiles raised an eyebrow, half surprised, half irritated. "You've already set this up?"

"Yeah," the Sheriff admitted. "When I mentioned that you needed some distance, Charlie offered. It was a joke at first, but when I called him last week to ask if he was serious, he was. I had to see how I'd get you to agree to it. Since this all happened, Stiles, you've been like a ghost. You exist, but barely. It's heartbreaking."

"I'm sorry, Dad..."

"It's not your fault. There's plenty of blame to go around, but not on you." The Sheriff gave a small smile. "Your friends... they're taking their time. And you will come back. But if you stay here, you'll only add more weight to your shoulders until you finally break. And what do you think I'll do then?"

Stiles blinked, trying to hold back the wave of emotions crashing through him. His dad pulled him into another tight hug.

"It feels like cheating," Stiles muttered, leaning into the embrace.

The Sheriff chuckled. "Well, though I don't condone it, you've always been the best cheater your teachers could never prove."

Stiles couldn't help but chuckle too, squeezing his dad. The Sheriff held him tighter.

"We're gonna be okay, Stiles. And this... this is going to be good for you."

"Is it always this gloomy?" Stiles asked, looking up at the house as they walked toward it.

The door opened, and a man with a mustache greeted them with a chuckle. "I hope you weren't planning to tan during your stay."

Stiles smirked. "My complexion only does 'lobster red' before I shed and go back to pale."

As Noah and Charlie shook hands and exchanged a half-hug, Charlie grinned. "I think the kid and I are gonna get along just fine."

"Sarcastic-matching-sheriff-father-figure... it'll be like I never left home," Stiles quipped, though he wasn't sure if he really felt that way. It wasn't that Forks was a bad choice, but leaving Beacon Hills felt strange. He'd tried calling everyone again, but he was still on the 'ignore' list. He promised his dad he'd try, though, and at least Charlie seemed like a cool guy. The humble surroundings would help Stiles feel less out of place.

"Welcome to Forks, Stiles."