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Stiles was tired, he'd been up all night researching the latest big bad to hit Beacon Hills, and it was looking even worse than they'd thought. Every lead had been a dead end, and it was a night wasted on research no-one cared about anyway. So now he was no closer to finding out what was causing the attacks. Scott offered no sympathy as he was too busy pining over Allison.
Stiles spent most of his classes struggling to keep his eyes open, and lunch was just the same. He could barely pay any attention to the conversation. Stiles vaguely registered some plan to meet Derek in the woods that night but, Stiles was so tired he wasn't sure that's what he heard. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep.
When school ended, he didn't hang around. He went straight to Roscoe and drove home. Once he got there he didn't wait, just went to his room and collapsed into his chair. It didn't take long before he was dead to the world.
Noah Stilinski had been working late that day and it was dark before he got home. Between the crazy deaths in the town and the general weirdness of Beacon Hills, he and his team were exhausted. He just wanted to make some food, then collapse on the couch and watch a game like he usually did.
When he opened the door though, something was wrong. the house was silent, and if he hadn't seen the jeep parked outside he would've said it was empty. With a son as energetic as Stiles the peace was disturbed. A sense of unease filled him as he climbed the stairs. Moving cautiously towards his son's room, the sheriff took his gun from his holster and held his breath. He didn't know what he was expecting to find when he opened the door, but it certainly wasn't what he did.
Stiles, asleep in his chair. His school bag on the ground next to him. His normally overexcited son looked strangely peaceful while he slept. He looked younger too. Noah felt his heart fill with warmth at the sight. He sighed as he walked towards Stiles, gently picked up his son, and laid him on the bed. It was something he hadn't done for years and if he was honest with himself, it was something he didn't even know he could still do. Smiling softly, John Stilinski left his son to sleep. Making a mental note to himself to ask Stiles what kept him up, he shut the door.
He had dinner to make.