Author's Note: This little ficlet takes place right after S5E5 'A Novel Approach'. This is what I wished had happened between Stiles and his dad after that episode.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and I'm not making any money from this story.
Warning: Non consensual swatting of a teen by his parent.
Mr. Stilinski heard screaming, and jumped out of bed. Stiles hadn't had that kind of nightmare in months. He shoved his kid's door open and rushed to the flailing body.
"Stiles!" he said firmly and put both hands on the boy's shoulders. "Wake up, you're having a nightmare."
Stiles' eyes opened wide, and he immediately stopped thrashing around. He looked around his room breathing hard, and then sank down onto his bed as the tension leaked out of his body.
"You haven't had one of those in a while," his dad said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Wanna tell me about it?"
Maybe he was groggy with sleep, or maybe he just couldn't keep it inside anymore, but once Stiles started talking about the way Donovan had tried to kill him, he couldn't stop. He confessed all of it, including the 911 call, and the missing body.
He looked at his father with shame in his eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry."
His dad shook his head and pulled Stiles into a bear hug. "It's not your fault, son."
"I killed him, Dad." Stiles said as he gripped his father tight.
"It was self defense. He tried to kill you."
Stiles let his dad go and flopped back against his pillow. "I should have… done something… tried to save him."
"What did Scott have to say about it?" his dad asked.
"I didn't tell him," Stiles gave his dad an exasperated glance. "Clearly you missed the part where I told you I killed Donovan."
His dad scowled and swatted the covers where Stiles' thigh was.
"Hey! What the hell was that for?" the boy asked while rolling onto his side to shield his thigh.
"For being an idiot."
Stiles gave his father a blank stare. His dad sighed and said, "Stiles, Scott is your best friend, and an alpha werewolf. How long do you think you can keep this from him?"
"Um… forever?" Stiles said hopefully.
His dad swatted him with a little more force, catching his hip and a little of his backside through the covers.
Stiles covered his hip with his hand and glared. "Okay, that's enough with the hitting! I've been through a trauma. You're supposed to be comforting me."
"I'm going to comfort you right over my lap if you don't call Scott and tell him what happened."
A snorted laugh came out of Stiles. "Oh my God, I can't believe you just said that. It doesn't even make sense."
His dad raised an eyebrow and didn't laugh.
"I know you wouldn't do that, Dad." Silence stretched out between them. Sounding less certain, Stiles said, "You wouldn't, right?"
His dad grabbed Stiles' cell phone off the nightstand and held it out to him. "Are you going to call my bluff, or are you going to call Scott?"
After a few seconds of staring each other down, Stiles mumbled, "He's gonna hate me," and then took the phone.
His dad kissed the top of his head and said, "Scott could never hate you, son, and you know it."
The sheriff sat on the bed and listened while his son confessed everything to Scott. He knew Scott had reassured Stiles that it wasn't his fault when he saw his kid sag with relief.
A few minutes later, once the conversation between the boys was over, the sheriff said, "Better?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Dad."
"Good. Now let your old man get a few hours of sleep before I have to go back to work." He ran his hand through Stiles' hair, and stood to leave.
"Night," Stiles said, suddenly very tired. "Love you."
"I love you too son," his dad said, as he closed the bedroom door.