fade #2 (Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter 36

I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF. Only Melanie and her plot lines.
______________________________________________
________________
____________
________
____
_

Stiles and I quickly rushed out the door, hand in hand. Our eyes then shifted over to Sheriff Stilinski, who was currently departing from his car.

"Can't talk, gotta run." Stiles simply stated, not wanting to explain to his father why we were going out this late. Knowing Stiles, his father would soon probably be thinking we were going to burn down another building or something. The first house burning incident being when we were nine, and it wasn't even a house. It was a shed. And it was Scott's fault for carrying around a pack of his fathers matches.

When Papa Stilisnki didn't say anything back, nor even react, Stiles and I swung our heads around to face him simultaneously.

He looked beyond depressed, something had definitely happened. And, once again, knowing Stiles and I we would soon find out what.

"Whoa, whoa, wait." Stiles took a step forward, furrowing his eyebrows, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." His father replied dryly, shutting the door to his vehicle and taking a long sigh.

Stiles obviously didn't believe his father, for his eyes scanned across his uniform, "Where's your gun?"

"I left it at the station, along with my badge."

I stood there in silence, not wanting to believe what the Sheriff was attempting to explain to us. Stiles looked beyond shocked, for his grip on my hand just grew limp as he let me squeeze his softly.

"What?"

"Don't worry about it." The Sheriff sighed, shooting us a sympathetic yet annoyed look.

"Dad–"

Mr. Stilinski turned around, shaking his head softly, "It was decided that the son of a police chief stealing police property and having a restraining order filed against him by the towns most respected attorney did not reflect well on the county."

"They fired you?" Stiles about whispered, worry glazing over his distressed face.

"No...Its a leave of absence." Stiles' father tried, grimacing at every word, "It's temporary."

"Did they say it was temporary?"

"Actually no." The former Sheriff frowned, "but it's fine. We're going to be fine."

"I don't get it." Stiles' voice cracked, his eyes wandering helplessly throughout the neighborhood, "why aren't you angry at me?"

"I don't know." Mr. Stilinski sighed, glancing down a the pavement briefly, "Maybe it's because I don't want to feel worse than I already do by having to yell at my son."

And with that, he turned away. The garage door slowly descending as it made a somewhat grinding noise. I averted my eyes from the closing garage, Stiles blankly staring at where his father used to be standing.

He lowered his hand into his pocket, yanking out his keys and attempting to shove them into the lock. His hand shook immensely, the metal clattering together as he continued to struggle.