Disclaimer: I own nothing involving Teen Wolf, its characters or their representation. And I have nothing to offer if you sue me, so don't try.
I just want to take a moment to apologize for any incorrect medical information, I've never had or seen this procedure, I'm just going off assumptions and information that I found online. Also, I originally planned a totally different concept but the story just wouldn't go in that direct, I still have to get it off my chest so here it is…. Enjoy.
The knock on his bedroom door startled him, he'd sat down to think after he finished getting dressed and time had drifted away from him, his father's voice from the other side asked if he was ready.
"Yeah, Dad, I'll be right there." The only response was a low 'get a move on' while he drifted down the stairs to the front door. Stiles pulled on his sweatshirt, pocketed his phone and keys and followed his father out of the house and into the patrol car.
The Sheriff took a deep breath and a long look at his son before pulling out of the driveway. The short ride to the hospital was silent, it always was, the sheriff kept stealing glances into the passenger seat, evaluating his son's appearance, his unusual stillness. Was his skin paler than normal? Were the bags under his eyes always that dark? Had he lost weight? Was he too busy at work to notice that his son was sick?
The silence ended as the tiny family pulled into the parking lot.
"Ready?" The sheriff asked trying to keep his son from hearing the nerves in his throat.
"Yup." He replied wringing his hands as he followed his father through the white halls. They stopped to check in before sitting and waiting. Stiles couldn't stop fidgeting waiting for the nurse to call his name.
"Hey. Relax, everything is fine." His father said as he covered his hands, holding them together in one big strong hand. The comfort also seized his incessantly tapping foot. They stayed connected until the nurse finally attempted to call his name; they didn't wait for her to butcher it, just stood and followed her with a nod of the head.
The nurse made idle small talk while checking his vitals, it was comforting, almost, to have someone talk about menial things like the weather, an earlier appointment which ran late and her son who had just started High School, maybe you've met him she commented without actually waiting for a response. Soon she left; the Doctor will be in shortly as a goodbye.
It didn't take as long as he expected for Dr. Manning to pop her head in, smiling as she always did. She was always genuinely happy; never sending unwanted sympathetic smiles which he always imagined was difficult in her line of work.
"Hi Stiles" She greeted as she rubbed his knee, before turning to shake his father's hand "Sheriff." And he replied with his own greeting.
"Stiles, how are you feeling?" She inquired taking the seat across from hi.
"Tired, but I feel ok." He learned long ago that honestly with his Doctors was more important than anyone else.
"I can imagine. School starting and Lacrosse can take a big toll on your body, but I'm sure there is nothing to worry about, I know that brain of yours tends to run away with itself." She shuffled some papers before continuing. "Alright, you did your blood work last week, I'm still waiting on some results to come back but I'm happy with what I've seen, your white cell count was low, it's probably just stress, we've seen that with you before." He tensed at the mention of his cell count, yes, while they had seen that before it had been years, his mind instantly swam , black clouds appeared in his vision, sweat beaded on his forehead until his father closed his hand around the back of his neck, letting out a few shaky breaths he tuned back into the Doctors words.
"…. And we can begin when you're ready." When he looked up the nurse was back in the room, equipment sat on a trey in front of him. He let out a few deep breaths before nodding to begin.
"Ok, would you rather lie on your side or sit forward? I know your side has been more comfortable in the past." He didn't need to respond, he just shifted to remove his sweatshirt and T-shirt before shifting to his side, his father moving to stand in front of him.
"Ok Stiles, pull your knees up when you're ready." She nodded to the Sheriff to confirm he was ready. "I'm just going to clean you up and dress you. I'll tell you before I do anything else." She worked silently for a few minutes, Stiles wasn't sure when his father's hand slipped into his own but he grasped it tight, he also moved his free hand to tangle into Stiles now longer hair, his thumb rubbing back and forth slowly knowing the repetition would be calming.
"And now you're going to feel a little prick, it's just the Lidocaine." She took her time checking to see that it worked by pricking his skin lightly. "Alright, are you ready?" The Sheriff nodded he shifted into a more comfortable position, Stiles always needed to be held down.
The Lidocaine didn't help, Stiles felt the needle pressing into his body, he held his fists tight together, his eyes squeezed tightly shut but still flinched as he felt the needle penetrating his spine. "Stiles, stay still." He Doctor requested with a strain in her voice. His father gripped him tighter as the Doctor began removing the sample. Tears streamed down his cheeks, an involuntary cry of pain coming from his mouth before the pressure seized and the procedure was completed. The Doctor removed the sample quickly and cleaned his injection site. His father released him and dropped a light kiss to his hair whispering 'you're ok, you're ok'. He pulled a few deep breaths to calm himself down until the Doctor spoke again.
"You did great Stiles. I want you to relax, stay in that position for a while. I'll be right back to check on you after I drop these samples." While his back was facing the door Stiles heard the Doctor leave with his sample as the nurse cleaned up. The Sheriff offered words of praise, always his biggest, sometimes only, supporter during endless tests and treatments. True to her words the Doctor was back within minutes, pushing his father aside to see how he was doing.
"How do you feel? Any nausea or headache?" He nodded, while not all patients experienced these side effects he nearly always did. "Ok, well you're free to go whenever you want, but if you're not feeling well lay down for as long as you'd like." Stiles had no intention of staying any longer than necessary, he sat up to get dressed grunting as pain shot through his lower back. "Take it slow for the next few days, no driving or sports until tomorrow, at least and I'll call you in a day or two once we have results." She said her goodbyes before fleeing out the door. When Stiles stood on shaky legs his father draped an arm around his should and they left the Hospital together. Stiles drifted off to sleep on the car ride home. When his father woke him he was surprised to see Scott sitting on the front steps waiting for him.
Scott stood as he approached. "Dude, where were you today? You weren't at school and didn't answer your phone." Scott followed the both members of the Stilinski family into the house after being ignored.
"Couch or bedroom?" Stiles lead his father to the couch, lying across the entire thing while holding his stomach. "Nauseous?" He nodded moving to the bathroom as Scott sat on the coffee table across from him asking if he was ok.
"He's fine; he had his annual tap today." Scott sat back, he hadn't known, he hadn't known because Stiles hadn't told him, his best friend had always been quiet about his health concerns since going into remission 6 years ago. The Sheriff dropped a small garbage pail on the floor in front of his son; he never usually got sick but wanted to play it safe even as his son drifted off to sleep in front of him.
"Did it go ok?" Scott asked following the sheriff into the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water to leave for his son.
"Yeah, we won't have the results for a few days but everything was fine. He always gets like this afterward, the headache and nausea are side effects of the procedure but he gets so anxious about it that he passes out for hours. The test is the worst part for him; I think sometimes he feels that even if the Leukemia did come back he wouldn't have known without the test, he blames it in a way."
"I think the waiting is the worst part."
"It is for me too."
"Do you mind if I stay for a while?" He asked.
"Shouldn't you be at work?"
"Yeah, but I can call Deaton, he'll understand that I'd rather be here."
"He'll be asleep for a few hours, why don't you go to work and you can come back when you're done? He should be up and maybe ready for some dinner by then?" He offered seeing the concern for his son.
Scott left as the sheriff dropped a blanket on top of his son and sat on the couch by his hip, running his hands through his own hair, the worry about the procedure passed and now the worry about the results were settling in.
Scott returned sooner than expected, Deaton had shoved him out of the door early after noticing how distracted he was. When he got back to the house the Sheriff was dressed in his uniform while watching TV with Stiles who was still sleeping, soft snores drifting over the sound of the low volume of the TV.
"Heading to work?" Scott asked slipping into the living room.
"Yeah, sometimes being the sheriff has its downfalls, I was hoping you might be willing to stick around? I left money for pizza on the table." The Sheriff heaved himself out of his chair and leaned down whispering to his son, words that couldn't be heard by Scott.
"Yeah, I'll stay with him, should I do something or be looking for something?" He asked.
"Nope, he just needs to rest. Easier said than done with this one so you've got your work cut out for you." The Sheriff laughed. "Oh and call your Mom and let her know where you are."
Stiles woke shortly after the Sheriff left. "Are you really watching Full House?" He croaked getting Scott's attention.
"Shut up! There was nothing on!" Stiles rolled his eyes.
"Where's my Dad?" He sat up rubbing his eyes.
"He had to go to the station, left money for pizza and said he'd be back soon though. You ok?"
"I will be as soon as you turn this off? Who actually talks like that?" The only response was a throw pillow tossed in his direction.
"Pick a movie, I'll order pizza." He left to get the number from the kitchen but stopped half way. "You would tell me if you weren't ok right?"
Stiles replied with a light giggle. "Yeah, of course, that's what besties do right?" Scott rolled his eyes in response.
Later that evening the Sheriff came home to find both Scott and Stiles asleep on the couch covered with a blanket, pizza box still on the table and the DVD menu replaying.
It was two days later that Stiles received his test results; when he pulled up outside his house he was surprised to find his Dads car in the driveway, a nervous pit formed in his stomach as he walked into the house.
He followed the smell of food into the kitchen calling for his Dad who he found washing his hands at the sink, the kitchen table full of his favorite and least healthy foods. His chest tightened, the first sign of a panic attach approaching quickly.
"It's back?" He asked, suspecting the food on the table as a comfort, it suddenly made him sick.
The look of surprise on his father's face confused him for a moment before he spoke.
"What? No No No. It's not, the Doctor called on my way home, you're healthy as can be. I thought I'd stop for some celebratory curly fries, and I got a little carried away. That's what happens when you feed me nothing but vegetables you know?" He pulled his son into a tight hug, could feel tears soaking through his shirt. "It's ok, don't worry, you're ok." When his son pulled away he looked at the spread on the table.
"So, who's going to eat all this food?"
"I'll bring the left overs for lunch tomorrow."
"You're crazy if you think I'm letting you eat like this twice! Think about your cholesterol! Maybe I should give your Doctor a call and see what he thinks?" Stiles threatened as he grabbed a burger from the table. His father just shook his head silently welcoming back his overprotective, loving, ADHD ridden boy.