A Gift

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Caroline slumped down onto the bed next to Elena's freshly packed carry on suitcase.

"We'll be fine, Care."

"This is werewolves, Elena," the blonde waved her hands. "More than one, in a town that we know nothing about, all the way across the country so that we can't be there to provide backup in case you need it."

"I'm hoping we won't need any backup," Elena rested next to her best friend. "We're getting in, and getting out; taking Meredith with us, 'whether she likes it or not' - Damon's words - and a watered down version at that. It was the only way I could convince him to do this. He doesn't want to get involved with these werewolves if we don't have to." She sighed. "I still think we should help those people."

"You can't help anyone if you're dead," Caroline placed a hand on her friend's knee. "I still remember – quite vividly – what getting bitten by a werewolf felt like. And it's not like Klaus is just going to come running if it happens to either of you." She paused, pushing a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear. "Look, if you'd just wait a couple days, I can try to call Tyler again, explain the situation. He might have contacts out there -"

"Meredith might not have a couple of days," Elena shook her hand, standing. "This werewolf threatened her. I have to do this for Ric. And for myself. I did a lot of damage this last year after I lost Jeremy. It's time I started using these new vampire powers for good instead of evil."

"Elena, you were never evil -"

"I know, Caroline. But you understand, right?"

Caroline paused, reaching out to take her friend's hand.

"Of course I do. Just promise me that you'll be safe."

"I promise."

Before Erica and Stiles could finish their conversation, they were interrupted by a troop of doctors. Apparently, Stiles had become the hospital's new 'Show And Tell' exhibit. He assumed he wasn't half as interesting as Jackson's Night of the Living Dead routine, but he was probably the most accessible. Jackson's father most likely had the kid on lockdown and therefore Stiles Stilinski was performing a solo act for miraculous recoveries.

The audience was finally escorted out when Melissa McCall burst into the room with an air of authority that could have probably challenged their Chief of Staff. She fussed over him a bit after that and whispered about Scott filling her in on the real story. She then threatened to slap him over the head if he ever did some something so foolish again, while simultaneously thanking him for being so brave and helping to save her son. Toward the end of her visit, her subtle inquiries after his health were becoming less vague and more suspiciously supernaturally specific. Every time Stiles cocked a brow and clipped off a comment, Melissa scolded him and reminded him that making sure he was okay was her job. Her visit didn't help but make Stiles feel even more nervous over Erica's ominous final words about things being worse.

Somewhere between Mrs. McCall leaving to find Stiles' father and the Sheriff making his way back into the bedside chair that had become his home, the boy had drifted off before he could think on his fears too much. Mr. Stilinski was informed that this was normal, but the father still was uneasy about watching his son sleeping once more. It felt like somehow, someway, today could possibly have been a trick, or a one-time lapse. What if he didn't wake up again? Memories of Claudia scratched their way to the surface. Of those final years when the good days were so few and far between that sometimes he would wish they never happened. Those days when his wife would smile and laugh and hug Stiles until the kid finally squirmed out of her grasp. John knew Stiles put on a show of fighting off the affection. The child would have gladly remained wrapped up in his mother's embrace for the entire day, for weeks. Yet they always attempted to keep those days normal for Claudia. The slightest irregularity could act as a trigger and send her spiraling. And then the following day would come, and with it, no recollection of the previous or the progress. The Sheriff sometimes would think that it would have been easier for all of them had those good days never happened. So that when she ultimately fell away from them again, it wouldn't hurt so much.

Despite the pain, though, John knew he wouldn't trade those days for anything.

"Dad, seriously, I'm okay."

Stiles wrestled with the tubes attached to his body as he feebly attempted to get as far away from this conversation as possible. He was awake again and already he had lost half of another day. He had to find out what exactly was going on - and get away from the interrogation.

"No, Stiles. This is not okay. This is serious. I'm serious. I let this go earlier and you ended up here."

"I just overdid it, Dad. It was stupid, driving after -"

"We'll talk about your poor decisions later, Stiles. Right now I'm talking about what happened after the game. The real reason you're here. You're gonna tell me what really happened. If you're afraid they'll come after you, or trying to protect someone -"

"I'm not. Dad, please. I just wanna go home."

"Not until you tell me the truth, son. This is getting ridiculous, Stiles. I'm worried sick about you all the time. The restraining order, trouble at school, everything with Matt, and Jackson, there is obviously something going on here that you're not telling me, so -."

"I got mugged - okay?" Stiles slouched his shoulders. "It wasn't guys from the other team. It was some drunk who wanted my wallet and the keys to my Jeep. I was embarrassed. Felt like an idiot. The Sheriff's son getting his butt kicked by some drunk hipster in a hoodie. And I didn't see who it was 'cause it was dark and his hood was up and I was a little busy trying not to choke on the concrete." Stiles didn't take a breath before barreling forward.

"Matt was a crazy person who snapped because well - crazy person. He went after Scott because he had some weird obsession thing for Allison. And Jackson? Jackson's a dick, dad. We were trying to get back at him for all the crap that he pulls on me at school and it just got way out of hand. I - I'm sorry."

Stiles never wanted to paint himself as the damsel in distress. In fact, he hated the shade on himself. But it was a guaranteed way to get his dad to believe him and back off. The Sheriff knew his son was proud and stubborn. He would never imagine Stiles would weave a lie that cast him in the role of the victim.

Stiles watched with a guilty conscious but relief riddled heart as his father fell back into the chair. There was a shared silence as the Sheriff sat, scrubbing his face with his palms.

"Mugged in Beacon Hills," the man shook his head. "I swear, only you could find this much trouble in such a small town."

"It's a gift."

A/N: I know you're getting a LOT of Stiles and not a whole lot of other characters. There are some that haven't even entered the story yet...sorry. Trust me, there are many more chapters to come with everybody involved. Stiles is just sort of the catalyst and star right now