Chapter Text
Stiles looked around his room for the tenth time, waiting for something to catch his eye that he’d forgotten to pack.
He was only going for a few months, he’d probably even have time to come back if he got a few days off, but there was something about leaving before everybody else that seemed so… lonely.
They still had the rest of the summer but he was flying up to DC weeks before the rest of them even had to start packing.
Life was going to carry on in Beacon Hills without him and the pack were going to be fine, Lydia was still going to be around for another few weeks so it’s not like he was leaving them without anybody to think things through.
He looked up as his dad knocked on his door frame. “How’re you doing, kiddo?”
Stiles nodded. “Alright,” he said, “you might have to mail me whatever I’ve forgotten.”
His dad chuckled. “I expect as much.” He hesitated before stepping into the room to sit on the end of Stiles’ bed. “You know, when you were little, you told everybody you could that you were gonna be a cop like me and everyone found it sweet but… but it used to terrify me.”
Stiles took a seat next to his dad and for once just listened.
“I’ve seen a lot of things on this job and I wanted you as far away from it all as I could get you,” he continued his eyes far away in memories. “Then as you got older and we realised how smart you were and how you could talk yourself out of anything, and your mom said you’d be a lawyer but you still had your heart set on being a cop. Most kids go through phases of different things but you had your mind fixed from go. But after everything you’ve been through… werewolves and hunters and- and the Nogitsune.” He faltered slightly and Stiles fixed his eyes on a spot on the floor. “After everything you’ve been through in the past few years, I know that whether you come back to work here or you go off and lead big task forces for the FBI that whatever you face, you’re gonna be okay.
“Because if you put your mind to it, you can get around anything or anyone in your way, human or not.” He put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and despite his best efforts, Stiles wasn’t able to push down the wave of emotions that hit him.
“Thanks, dad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m really proud of you, son. I’m proud of you getting through all of it. Losing your mom, the Nogitsune… everything and I know that whatever you do now, you’re gonna make me just as proud,” his dad said and then laughed. “Even if I am gonna be shipping boxes of books to DC every other week because you wanna look into something.”
Stiles gave a slightly wet laugh. “Nah, I’d just get you to drive ‘em all up. It’d be quicker,” he said and Stiles let himself be pulled into a tight hug, savouring the feeling of his father’s embrace.
It was going to be strange to be in a place so far from home, with new people who didn’t have a clue what he’d been through. His dad wasn’t going to be there when he screamed himself awake at four am. Lydia wasn’t going to be there to bounce information and theories off of. There would be no Scott to talk him through a panic attack and no Malia to distract him with her lack of pop-culture knowledge. Just him and all of the FBI, where the most familiar face was going to be Scott’s dad.
“You know,” his dad said and Stiles tried not to cry harder at the sound of tears in his father’s voice, “your mom would be so proud of you.”
And all the emotions that he’d been shoving into little boxes in his mind over the past few months seemed to hit him at once and he just clung to his dad tighter.
“I’m gonna miss you,” Stiles said, pressing his face into the familiar smell of the Sheriff’s jacket, not wanting to ever let go.
“I’m gonna miss you too, kid. But I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’m gonna be right here when you come home.”
They both knew that in the world they lived in, that wasn’t a promise anybody could keep, but Stiles knew that his father would do everything he possibly could to try.