Companion fic to not so easily erased. Sheriff Stilinski's POV
He doesn't notice that anything is wrong. Not at first.
The day starts like any other. He gets up, groans a little when his knee cracks when he climbs out of bed, and suits up in his uniform. He knocks on Stiles' door to wake him up as he passes and heads downstairs. He makes coffee, fills his thermos, grabs his holster, and heads out the door. He makes a pit stop at the grocery store for a donut and settles on a box of chocolate covered granola bars when the bakery is short on the good ones.
And then he heads into work, settles down in his office, and starts going over reports. Oh, joy.
Stiles sends him a text at 10:17 in the morning, letting him know that they're out of milk and he's going shopping. It's nothing out of the ordinary, and he knows Stiles will grab the shopping list off the fridge and get everything on it and a few healthier alternatives. It's been their routine this summer. On Saturday mornings, Stiles gets groceries and stops by with lunch on his way home.
He still doesn't notice anything is wrong, too caught up in reviewing deputy applications to realise that it's almost one in the afternoon and there has been no word from Stiles.
And then the call comes in to the station. The main line is busy so he's the one to answer it.
"Beacon County Sheriff's Department," he says distractedly, making a notation to ask J. Parrish to come in for an interview.
"Sheriff Stilinski? This is Magda Reynolds. I think you're going to want to come to the store, bring a deputy along."
"What's going on, Magda?"
"Sheriff, just hurry and get here."
He locks the applications in his cabinet, adjusts his holster on his belt, and grabs his cellphone. He calls for Deputy Haigh to come with him, and they walk out together.
He's halfway to the grocery store, Deputy Haigh in his own cruiser behind him, when he notices the blue lights on his dash marking the time.
12:57 pm.
Stiles hasn't called. He hasn't texted.
Where is his son?
He pulls up to the front of the store, parking the cruiser in the fire lane. He's halfway out of the car when Magda puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Sheriff. One of the bag boys noticed oranges rolling across the parking lot. He followed them back to where they were dropped. He recognised the car..."
"Whose car, Magda?"
"Your son's."
He's across the parking lot before Deputy Haigh can react, panic and fear bleeding into his veins.
The passenger door to the jeep is wide open, a bag of groceries broken open and spilling food all over the concrete of the parking lot.
There's a smear of blood on the door and it makes everything in him run cold.
"The camera doesn't pan out this far, Sheriff. The bank's exterior cameras only reach out to two cars down. We don't know who took your son."
He thinks about his enemies, about the people he's put away over the years who might want to do this to him, to take his son.
He thinks about the fact that he didn't notice for two hours that Stiles was missing, and he hates himself.
"Haigh, canvass the area. See if anyone in the surrounding businesses noticed anything. Call Krasikeva. I know it's his day off, but see if he's willing to come in and help. I'm going to talk to the bag boy, see who was here the same time as Stiles."
He calls Melissa as he walks into the grocery store, his voice catching in his throat when she answers.
"Mel..."