Only He saw

Graduation

"Josh Fenton"

Each name is followed by a brief pause then a smattering of applause as the principal distributes the certificates, everyone having their own small speeches to drone out to the seated people before them, like sitting ducks.

The principal's voice droned on, Stiles listening as he tapped his feet rapidly against his chair leg. He fiddled with the hem of his robe as he watched his fellow classmates step onto the stage to receive a short bout of applause and a witty remark.

"Emma Winters"

Looking up, he internally groaned as he watched the old Hale pack herd around the front of the stage, staring up at each of the newcomers, despite their varying levels of discomfort. Quickly looking back at the floor, he narrowly missed Isaacs eyes as he looked over at him, a pained look on his face from under his graduation cap.

"Lana Seera"

Peter smiled grimly at Stiles, joining their hands together in his lap, ignoring Nadia and her overdramatic pouting face as she waggled her eyebrows at their joined hands.

Empaths.

"Jamie Grindall"

Stiles smiled weakly, nervously pushing his cap onto his head, flicking the tassel irritatedly out of his face. He'd been looking forward to this, he had! But now it felt like one long personal attack on his emotional wellbeing.

"Stiles Stilinski"

The monotonous voice strikes again, only this time, Stiles has to react. He stands and begins to stumble through the rows of chairs towards the stage, hating the outstretched moment of heavy silence. Walking up the steps to the stage, he felt the stare of his own pack and the hale pack on him. Seeing the principal smile, he focused his attention on him, and only him.

In, and out. In, and out.

Breathing shakily, Stiles grimaced as he shook the principal's hand, and accepted a chaste side hug. Doing a semi-dramatic mini bow towards the audience and his past peers, he swiftly exited the stage, feeling a pang of nostalgia as he stared down at the certificate in his hands.

Scott should have been here too. Not the awful, broken Scott on the day of his death, but the innocent, joyous kid Sties grew up with. The supernatural had fucked him up, it had fucked all of them up. Gripping onto the paper with unsteady hands, he headed back to his seat and accepted his dad's glee with a much brighter grin.

"Well done, kiddo, well done." He said, a fond smile on his face.

Stiles chuckled and quirked an eyebrow. "Huh, really? I got the impression you were a bit annoyed you saw me at the station so much." He grinned cheekily, hinting to the various times he'd had run-ins with the law, watching his dad's exasperated huff.

"Yeah, now you say it, that part left a little to be desired," John said drily, amused but disapproving face struggling not to laugh. It all seemed so minuscule next to the events of the last couple of years. Stiles had been through a lot, and John could let his sons few visits in the back of a cop car off of the hook.

"Are we still going to the diner after this?" Penny asked, leaning forward between Peter and Stiles from a seat behind them. Stiles looked at her, nodding enthusiastically. "Who do you take me for, a lightweight?" He asked, gesturing wildly.

Penny snorted, shaking her head. "You have to know you're using that word in the wrong way, right?"

"Yup," Stiles replied cheerfully, settling back into his seat calmly. Penny laughs loudly, blushing red when a few disgruntled parents turn round to frown at her. She whispers a hurried sorry, shrinking back into her seat as Stiles sticks his tongue out at her.

Battle? Won.

Another hour and a half passed, as the year group rejoins on the stage, grimacing for the flash of their family's cameras until they can finally go, and be free of the school.

Stiles beamed, jumping up and down gleefully next to a bemused Peter, sending his cap flying off of his head onto Penny, who squeaked with 'surprise, laughing and returning the cap onto his head.

"Thanks," Stiles snorted, bowing dramatically, hastily picking up the cap as it fell back off. Peter laughed, shaking his head disbelievingly. The two laced their hands together, promptly ignoring the disapproving looks of the various milling parents around them.

Crowding into the battered jeep, they fill the short ride to the diner with recounts of the past year, and all of the antics that had somehow ciphered through the awful events that had frequented their little town.

Fifteen minutes later the jeep roared into the diners car park and sputtered to an eventual stop, the pack spilling out in an excited scramble, rushing towards the door.

"So did you get your letter yet, from Berkeley?" Nadia asked casually, fiddling with her straw in mock disinterest. Stiles stilled, face stony. Peter stared at him with a worried expression as he squeezed his hand gently#

"I..." Stiles started, face dull, before breaking into a large grin. "Got in!" He yelled, doing a victory dance as Penny and Nadia whooped and cheered, attracting the attention of other eaters, without caring.

Launching across the table to hug him, almost knocking over her milkshake, before Peter quickly moved it. Stiles laughed, the joy clear on his face. John beamed, ridiculously proud of his wayward son. He was the best shitshow he knew, and he meant it in the best of ways.