Stiles Wilson

[9.] C L O S E__C A L L

The next morning, Stiles sat in the kitchen with his laptop open on the counter as he did his thorough research over breakfast. The guy his dad wanted was last seen somewhere just outside of Beacon Hills, headed the preserve's way. As filed and reported by the Beacon Hills police station.

"Great, I guess I know where my starting point is," Stiles sighed.

He hung his head as he took a sip of coffee. The last thing he really wanted was to linger around the places his Sherriff 'dad' did. He missed the man enough and even staying in this house was more than enough guilt to keep Stiles going for months after he finally returns to New York.

"Morning," Bucky said from the kitchen's archway.

"Hey, Whitewolf," Stiles perked up, pushing his cloud of emotions away and greeting the soldier with a tired smile. "I made breakfast, want some?"

"Hm," Bucky hummed and moved over to hover behind Stiles. "What's got you so lost in thought so early in the morning?"

"I have to go to the Beacon Hills police station to find out more about my mission, but I'm not completely... over the moon about it," Stiles admitted, a heavy puff of air leaving him as he ran a hand down his face.

"What is it?" Bucky asked in concern, his hand taking Stiles's own away before he could rub his skin raw, he was too handsome for that.

"Nothing, it's just where my dad worked for practically his entire working career. My Sherriff dad," Stiles clarified.

"Oh," Bucky said, understanding Stiles's hesitance and frustration. "You want me to come with you?"

"Very much," the assassin nodded. "But you can't. You promised to call Steve in an hour's time, remember?"

"I can call him later," Bucky tried to dismiss.

"Ha! Sure you can, because he'll completely keep his cool like he did the last time," Stiles remarked with an annoyed chuckle.

Around a week after Bucky decided to stay with Stiles instead of going with T'Challa to Wakanda, Steve made his best friend promise to frequent calls. They made set times for certain days. The last time Bucky forgot to call because he and Stiles went out and lost track of time, the two later came home to their apartment broken into and Captain America and the Scarlett Witch in the living room. Needless to say, Stiles doesn't have enough cash for every time Steve Rogers gets worried about Bucky Barnes so no calls would be missed again, or ever.

Stiles shook his head and smiled reassuringly at Bucky, "I'll be fine. I can handle this."

"You sure?" Bucky asked.

He didn't like not being by Stiles's side when he needed him. Stiles though didn't see it like this and pulled the soldier out of his thoughts with a smile, holding a piece of toast to Bucky's lips.

"Eat, Whitewolf."

Bucky rolled his eyes slightly and took a bite out of the offered food before kissing Stiles's temple and sitting down beside him. He pulled the assassin's chair closer until Stiles was pressed into Bucky's side and the two carried on with breakfast, and a cuddle.

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And here Stiles was thirty minutes later standing outside Beacon Hills police station. He took in a breath and smoothed his hands over his jeans before pulling at his leather jacket and taking the first steps inside the more-than-familiar building.

He was prepared for all the people who greeted him, big smiles and quick hugs. Stiles indulged them and even relished in the small sense of home that his seventeen-year-old self was so used to back then. But he remembered, keeping it in the back of his mind, that the past was the past and this was the present. He had a job to do and a mission to complete.