Same Old Song and Dance(Sterek)

Stiles and Allison

Stiles' feet carried him down the stairs behind Allison as they made their way to the living room where Allison's father had called them down from.

The children stopped in the grand room to see two officers standing next to Allison's father. Stiles knew them from the station.

"Officer Harper, Officer Williams, what are you doing here?" Stiles asked with a frown. Had his father sent them to pick him up? Had his father gotten held up at the station again?

"Stiles," Chris Argent knelt down in front of Stiles, placing his large hands on the ten year old's narrow shoulders.

The man's eyes glanced past him at the officers before speaking. "Your father...he..."

Stiles' face pulled into a worried scowl. He knew that look. He'd seen his father use it when delivering bad news to families at the station.

"He's been hurt, hasn't he?" Stiles asked, turning to the two men in uniforms to confirm his theory. He'd always been smart and perceptive.

They dropped their eyes to Chris Argent, as if begging the other man to be the bearer of bad news.

"Your father was..."

"He was killed by an evil that must be stopped," A stern voice spoke blatantly from the doorway. Stiles turned his head to see Gerard Argent, Allison's grandfather, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, the ever present sour look on his face.

"Dad," Chris scolded.

The world under Stiles' feet shifted, sending him to his boney knees. This wasn't happening. Not again. He'd just lost his mother early last year. He couldn't lose his dad too.

"No," his voice cracked as Chris enveloped him in a tight hug.

Tears poured from the small boy's eyes. How was he supposed to go on like this? Where was he supposed to go? He had no family left.

-

*Twelve years later*

Stiles swung his left arm around wide, his blade sinking into soft flesh with a sickening tear. The threat halted instantly, dropping into a lifeless heap next to him.

He wiped the blood from his blade on his jeans and sheathed it back into it's place on his thigh.

"That's the last of them," Allison smiled from across the wooded clearing, her hair half in her face as she panted for breath.

Stiles looked down at the dead werewolf with a sneer. "Good riddance."

"Come on, I missed a call from dad," Allison frowned down at her phone. He never called when she went on hunts.

"Is everything okay?" Stiles frowned, stepping over the dead body, to reach her side.

"I'll call in the car," Allison shoved the phone in her pocket. It wasn't safe to stick around in these woods any longer than necessary.

Stiles lead the way through the thick underbrush, towards where they'd parked Allison's car just outside the woods.

As soon as they were locked safely inside the car, they both let out a heavy breath.

"Is it just me or are these assholes getting smarter?" Stiles leaned his head back against the head rest.

"They're dumb animals, I don't think they can get smarter," Allison laughed, earning a grin from Stiles.

"Better call your dad, you know how he gets when we don't answer," Stiles gestured to her pocket as she started the engine.

Stiles twisted his neck to pull a kink he felt starting to tighten. An injury from one of his early hunts had left him with a nasty tear on his right shoulder that got irritated with too much use.