Work Text:
The arms that they had discovered on what had been a simple drug bust couldn’t be anything but an arsenal, one that was heading for Beacon Hills
The look that his boss had given him said it all, he was compromised completely and utterly. There was no way he would be able to remain anything close to neutral.
The weapons had been heading for home, towards family, towards the Hales, towards his Dad if they hadn’t found them. Meaning there had to be more out there, hunters always had back up plans.
He had to go. He couldn’t do anything else.
He knew his boss wouldn’t be anything close to surprised to find his gun and badge on his desk this morning. It was a frequent enough occurrence for any team that worked within the supernatural sphere.
Family always came first when hunters were on your tail.
It’s why the members of those teams that worked in the supernatural arena had to know how to handle themselves around Weres and the like, where they were part of every day life. Before they were even considered for a team.
He hadn’t even wanted to be on a supernatural team, all he’d wanted to do was be a Cop. To follow in his father’s footsteps and possibly even his job. Allowing his old man to retire mostly safely. But that had never really been an option, it still pissed him off on occasion, even if though it had got him into the FBI.
The click of the door on his apartment sounded final, as did the clunk of the door of his ride.
His life was about to change again, whether he wanted it to or not. To protect his Dad, those he called family, and several Werewolves.
Just not the ones everyone thought.
