~≈Waves≈~ [TeenWolf/Avengers]

Part 3: B E G I N N I N G

Stiles blinked slowly, his long eyelashes swept gently across sharp cheekbones. He lay frozen on his back, in his bed completely dressed.

Seemingly content in every sense of the word.

Although Stiles couldn’t say that he slept well, in all honesty he felt restless, anxious, and he truly didn’t know what to do with that feeling. With a deep breathe he closed his eyes.

It was morning now and if he could bludgeon the rising sun into darkness with his trusty bat… trust him, he would. That bright fucker we call a star wasn’t helping in any way.

But between the sunrays attacking his eyes and the bits of eye boogers blinding him.

He knew a losing battle when he sees one.

Begrudgingly, the brunet sat up in bed with a groan. His eyes slid towards his left. Where his bedside table sat.

Deep red numbers flashed obnoxiously. The sun had definitely won this round, but who’s to say his alarm clock would win a round with his bat?

Too busy glaring at his alarm clock he startled when his door softly tapped the wall behind it, in his doorway leaning against the frame was his dad clad in jeans and a plain white t-shirt.

“Are you ready?”

Stiles scoffed, “Was Luke ready when Darth pulled a Maury?” Which only earned him a quirked brow from his father.

Stiles sighed. “Honestly, i don’t know...”

Sheriff Stilinski released a hearty breath through his nostrils. Walking further into the room and over to rumpled bed, he gingerly sat on the corner.

“You don't have to go through with this if you don't want to, you know…” he spoke slowly, he wanted his son to hear the honesty in his voice if not his want for him to stay.

Stiles bit his lip with furrowed brows. He knew what his dad was doing. He’d been doing it all week, his dad made it quite clear that he didn’t want him leaving. He wanted to be mad but he couldn't.

Because he could understand. If Stiles were in his father’s shoes he’d be doing the same thing.

Sheriff Stilinski didn't want his baby boy to leave him. Stiles was the reason he dad got up every morning; did his duty as a police officer everyday. Sheriff Stilinski kept the streets safe, not only for the town's sake, but so his child could grow up in a safe environment, unlike his own.

And yeah, when Stiles leaves a fraction of his will, would be going along with him. Because ultimately Sheriff Stilinski failed, the fact that Stiles felt being away from Beacon Hills was  better… no, a safer option for him, was gut wrenching.

Sheriff Stilinski is a cop, but more than that he is a father. His child didn't feel safe with him. Stiles didn't feel that his father's support was enough to heal the emotional damage dealt to him. And that could break any grown man's heart.

With a watery smile, Stiles nodded. “I know Dad…” he paused. “A- A part of me doesn’t want to go.” Stiles didn’t notice it as he anxious wiped his palms across his thighs folding his hands in his lap.

However John noticed, working as a cop you have to pick up a few things eventually. And one of the things you have to learn early on, is how to read people. He doesn’t often do it to his own son, because he feels it would be a breach of trust.

The Beacon Hills Sherriff just couldn’t help noticing how Stiles left his hands folded together atop his lap, partially covering his groin area.

Suspects would often do that when they felt vulnerable…