Authors note: This is an AU where Stiles dad was in the army when he grew up, and no supernatural things either.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, only Sunflower. And my mistakes. They are my own and I'm sorry. (English is not my first language).

Warnings: A lot I think. Character death, PTSD (?), nightmares (?), panic attack (?), depression, suicidal thoughts, and suicide attempt. (You might need tissues)

You should know that I have no clue about the military system in USA, or any other country. Hopefully I don't offend anyone with my ignorance. And I don't have PTSD, depression or panic attacks, so I'm not an expert on that either.

Well hope you like it.

For as long as Stiles could remember, he had been afraid that his dad wouldn't come home from work. One of his first real memories was when his mom and dad sat him down as a five year old to give him the talk. And no not the talk, just… they explained to him exactly why daddy was going to go away for a while, and that he had to be a good boy and listen to his mom.

At first his five years old brain didn't really comprehend what exactly that meant. Maybe it was something all fathers did? But when he asked Scott the next day he found out that that wasn't the case.

The first time, John was away for 6 months, and when he came home Claudia and Stiles greeted him at the airport. That night, when John kissed Stiles tonight, he asked his son why he didn't have his Spiderman pyjamas on. And his son replied that Spiderman wasn't a real hero. He said that he had a new favourite superhero, his dad.

John was home for two months before he left to go overseas again. This time he is away for almost eight months, and comes back just in time for Stiles' seventh birthday. He surprises him at school, and the look on Stiles' face when he sees him makes him forget about all his friends he has lost for a moment.

It continues like this for a couple of years, until John gets a phone-call when Stiles' ten years old. There has been an accident at home, he doesn't get to know anything else, just that he is needed at home now. The next 21 hours is a nightmare, he has no idea whether his family is alive or not, and the only thing he can think is that he doesn't want to bury his son.

Stiles and his mom had been on their way home from the movie theatre when they were jumped by some druggies in an empty street. They just wanted money for cocaine, but they had a knife, and when Claudia wasn't fast enough they made a move on Stiles. Claudia jumped in front of him, taking the blow of the knife to the lover ribcage.

The ambulance arrived ten minutes later, quickly loading Claudia and Stiles into the back before speeding of to the hospital. When they arrived at the ER they left Stiles alone, and he had to fend off his first panic attack by himself. Hours later the surgeon came out with the news, his mom was dead, and Stiles started screaming. He didn't stop until he couldn't scream anymore, and Melissa McCall had long since taken him home. He fell asleep not long after, still clutching his mother's bloody scarf, which he had taken off in a desperate try to stop the bleeding.

When John finally arrived home almost 24 hours later Stiles was awake, but he still hadn't talked. But when a tired, and newly informed widower, walked into the living room, Stiles looked up and John just barely had time to hear a choked out "daddy" before Stiles flings himself into his arms.

They sat together on the floor, rocking back and forth, John rubbing Stiles' back as the young boy sobbed a barely understandable mess of words into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry daddy… imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry…"

"It's not your fault, baby boy… we're gonna to be okay…"

The next few months both father and son's sleep were filled with nightmares. John's of the war, and Stiles' of his mom's death and his fear of losing his dad. John could barely leave Stiles alone for more than 30 minutes, the boy terrified of losing his father too. John even had to pull him out of school for a few weeks, as Stiles panic attacks stopped him from going.

John had been given leave from the army so he could stay at home with his son. He planned to apply for a deputy employment down at the Sheriff's station. He did, two months after Claudia's death, when Stiles could go to school without risking a panic attack.

It wasn't until six months later, right before Stiles' eleventh birthday that they realised that they might need help. Professional help.

Stiles had been up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, and as he walked past his father's bedroom door he heard whimpering. He quietly walked up to the door and pushed it open. His father lay on the bed, dripping wet with sweat, crying and pleading in his sleep.

"No! Don't kill them, please… don't kill my family…"

Stiles quickly walked into the room and over to his fathers bed to try and wake him up. At first he tried to wake his dad up by talking to him, and when that didn't work he laid his hand on his dads shoulder to shake it. He didn't have time for that though. As soon as his hand touched John's shoulder, his dad's hand shot out, hitting him on the side of his head.

John was fighting, they were trying to kill Stiles and Claudia, and he had to stop them. As one of them grabbed his shoulder he reacted on pure instinct, swinging his hand in their direction.

"NO!" John shouted, finally waking up.

But the sight that met him was completely different from the one he had been expecting. There were no enemies, luring, hiding, waiting for a chance to kill everyone he loved. Instead his son was sitting on the floor next to his bed, in his house, his home. Stiles was holding his left cheek, blood streaming between his fingers from his busted lip.

"D-Dad?"

John didn't need long before he realised what had happened. It hadn't been an enemy he had punched, it had been Stiles. His son. He had hit his son.

"Oh my god! I'm sorry Stiles, I'm so sorry…" John could feel tears stinging in his eyes, and he let them fall. "Please… I- Stiles… I'm sorry…"

John hid his face in his hands. He couldn't bare to look at his son, surely he must hate him. But suddenly small hands pried away his hands from his face, and he saw Stiles sitting in front of him.

"It's not your fault, daddy" he whispered before throwing his arms around his father's neck, burrowing his face in his neck. "We'll be okay…"

John laid down on the bed, and pulled Stiles down with him. Stiles laid his head on his dad's shoulder, his hands clutching his nightshirt, as if afraid that he would go away. Soon both Stilinskis fell asleep, and neither of them had another nightmare that night.

Things got better after that. They both realised that they might need more help than they originally thought. They both started going to therapy twice a week, one session for both of them together, and one by themselves.

Stiles started hanging out with Scott again, which he had barely done since his mother's death. When Mr McCall left right before Christmas that year, Stiles stays over for the night, comforting his best friend.

They also get a dog, trained to help PTSD sufferers. It was an Irish wolfhound named Sunflower, which is a stupid name for a dog like that, but it was Stiles that came up with it and John couldn't really say no. Sunflower got huge, 31 inches tall and almost 7 feet standing on her hind legs. She slept at the foot of John's bed, waking him up from nightmares if needed.

The next couple of years were good. They still missed Claudia terribly, but they coped. The only thing was that Stiles new that despite the constant danger, his dad missed his old job in the military. He missed his friends, and the feeling of serving his country. But John never said anything, he was happy with what he had. Then the summer before Stiles started high school, the 14 year old boy sat his father down for a talk. He said that he knew that John missed his old job, and that he gave him his blessing, or some shit like that (Stiles' words).

Six months later, right after New Year, John left again. Stiles' still lived at their house and Mellissa McCall checked in on him every day, as well as calling him every morning to make sure he got up for school.

They wrote letters to each other every month, telling each other about their lives. John did well in the military, climbing in ranks quickly. Then on his second tour, or sixth depending on how you count, something happened. Stiles was 16 at the time.

Stiles had just come home from school, and he was reading the latest letter from his dad, when there was a knock on the door. Stiles, who thought that it was Scott who had promised to come over after school, flew up from the couch and practically ran to the door. But when he opened it, he was greeted by two men in uniforms with grim looks on their faces.

"No… please…" he pleaded, feeling tears stinging in his eyes.

"Mr Stilinski, we are sorry to inform you that Captain John Stilinski is MIA, he was captured yesterday morning."

Stiles couldn't really remember what happened after that. When the men left, he sank to the floor with his back against the wall without even closing the door. He put his head in his hands and let out a distraught scream, and when he had started he couldn't stop.

He screamed himself hoarse, until no sound came past his lips in his desperate attempts to suck in air. It was like that Scott found him ten minutes later, arriving at the same time as two police cars that had come to investigate what was going on. It was one of the neighbours that had called, thinking that somebody was being murdered.

The next few months Stiles sank deeper and deeper into depression. The only thing keeping him going was the thought that; he might not be dead. Every night he slept in his father's bed, Sunflower pressed tightly against his side, despite Mrs McCall's desperate attempts to get him to stay at their house. He still came over for dinner every day, but went back to his own house to sleep.

School ended for the summer, and suddenly Stiles has far too much time on his hands. When he had school, at least he had something to do with his days, and he had homework so his evenings were occupied too. Now, all he could think about was the fact that his dad wasn't there.

He would have been home now. They were planning on going on a road trip, just them, sightseeing, fishing… maybe go to Canada. Instead, Stiles had no idea where his father is, or even if he's alive.

Instead of hanging out with Scott like he usually do most summers, Stiles is by himself. He takes long walks, sometimes for hours, with Sunflower. One day he didn't realise how far he had gone, and when he finally turned back somewhere around half past six, it took more than three hours to get back. Mellissa was so mad at him when he came home, for worrying her. Stiles figured that she feared that he might have killed himself. She ended up grounding him two weeks.

Melissa wasn't that far off with her suspicion. Since his father's disappearance, and since Stiles had realised that the probability of him being alive were getting smaller each day, Stiles had thought about taking his own life. Hell he had even planned it.

There was something Stiles hadn't told anyone, not even Scott. He had gotten a call a week earlier, from the army. They had informed him that his dad was still missing, as if Stiles didn't know that, and they also said that they were stopping the search soon. If John hadn't been found by December it would be eight months since his disappearance. In December, John would be presumed dead, and all search parties would be stopped. Stiles would receive a flag, a flag, and they would help him plan the memorial, if he wanted.

Stiles knew that if his dad was presumed dead he wouldn't be found, not if they stopped the search. Then, even if John still were alive, it wouldn't be long before that changed. Therefore Stiles had decided that if his dad didn't come back, then he wouldn't live on either. He would celebrate Christmas with the McCall's, because he didn't want to ruin that for them, and then he would go home. He would draw a bath, warm (he had read somewhere that it prevented the blood from clotting), then he would slit his wrists. Simple as that.

The rest of the summer flew by, it was as if Stiles was zoning in and out, not really there most of the time. He knew that he was depressed, that he should get help, but somehow that didn't bother him. The less time he spent aware, the less time he would spend missing his dad.

School started again, and finally Stiles had something to occupy his mind with. He might not care that much about his grades, but now he spent more time than ever on his homework. He might actually get straight A's for once.

September past, then October. When Stiles wasn't in school or doing homework he was back at taking long walks with Sunflower. He tried to hang out with Scott once in a while, just enough to ensure that he, or Mellissa wouldn't suspect anything.

Before Stiles knew it, it was December and he still hadn't gotten a call from the army. Together, he and Mellissa planned the memorial. Scott wanted to help too but, he was never really good with planning stuff. He was there as mental, and emotional support though, and Stiles had never been more grateful for his best friend.

It was a quiet memorial, not many people came. Not because John hadn't had many friends, but because most of them wanted to wait for the "real" funeral, where there was a body. And Stiles didn't want everybody to come either. So the only people that came was his dad's old co-workers from the Sheriff's station and Mellissa and Scott, and Stiles of course. It was a nice service, Stiles would like to think that his dad would have liked it.

The days between the memorial and Christmas blurred together. Most days Stiles spent lying in his father's bed, only getting up to eat, or go to the bathroom. Mellissa and Scott let him, coming over once a day with food, and calling every hour to check in on him. They suspected something, that he would hurt himself, not that he could blame them.

The day before Christmas Stiles went to the mall, and bought Christmas presents for Mellissa and Scott. For Scott he got a new computer, because he knew that his had broken down, and for Mellissa he bought a gift card for a weekend at a spa, she always said that she wanted some days for herself just to relax. Of course he knew that they would wonder why he spent so much money on their gifts, but he would just say that he wanted to make the people left in his life happy, which wasn't that far from the truth. It just wasn't the whole truth. He wanted their last Christmas with him to be special, for them to be able to look back at it and smile, despite the fact that his dad was dead, and he soon would follow.

Mellissa had asked him a few days earlier if he wanted to celebrate Christmas this year, she said that they would understand if he didn't. He had replied that he wanted to, and actually it wasn't a lie. He just felt that he wanted the illusion that everything was okay, one last time before he died. It wouldn't be the first time he celebrated Christmas without his dad.

Christmas day was actually quite enjoyable. He got the new GTA from Scott, and from Mellissa a box set of the Game of thrones books. It was a pity that he wouldn't get to read them. At least he got to play the game some, he and Scott played for a few hours as Mellissa had to work a few hours at the hospital. When she came home they cooked dinner together, and after they ate they sat on the couch and watched Home Alone, an old Christmas tradition of theirs.

Late that evening he went back to his house, but not before saying thank you to the McCalls. They might not get why until later, but he didn't want to leave without them knowing how grateful he was.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here, sweetie?" Mellissa asked as she pulled him into a hug.

"Yeah… I think I'll sleep better at my place, and Sunflower needs a walk anyway." He replied, squeezing her back just a little harder than he usually do.

He hugged Scott goodbye too, and if his friend thought it was weird, he didn't mention it.

"Thanks for today, man" he said, trying not to give anything away that might make them suspect anything, "I love you."

He left before they had a chance to reply.

He spent most of the night up, writing letters for Scott and Mellissa, as well as one for his dad to leave at his headstone when he got one.

It wasn't until the clock in the kitchen showed three in the morning, that he climbed up the stairs, and curled into a ball in his dad's bed. Sunflower as always pressed against his side, head resting on his hip.

He cried himself to sleep.

He slept until 11 the next morning, and when he woke up his phone was filled with texts from Scott and Mellissa. The last one saying to call as soon as he woke up, or they would come over if he hadn't by noon.

He sent Scott a text instead of calling, mostly because he didn't want his last words to his best friend to be a lie.

To: Scotty

11:16

Hi, sorry man. Slept until now. Going for a walk, will call when I get back. 2-3 hours at most.

The reply was almost instant, as if Scott had been sitting by his phone waiting, which he probably had.

From Scotty

11:17

It's okay, sleeping beauty. Talk to you later.

He didn't go for a walk. Instead he made breakfast, scrambled eggs and bacon, giving half to Sunflower.

He then went to his dad's room, putting on one of his old shirts, wanting to smell his cologne one last time. He went back to the kitchen, giving Sunflower a dried pig's ear, knowing that they kept her occupied for at least ten minutes. Just enough time to get everything ready.

Sunflower realises something is wrong as soon as he closes the door to the bathroom. Stiles can hear her running after him up the stairs, and he hurries to lock the door, knowing that she knows how to open it.

As he fills the bathtub with water he hears Sunflower outside the door, scratching at it desperately in an attempt to get inside, to get to her little master and help him. Because that's her job. By the time the bathtub is filled, she has stopped scratching, and instead she is sitting outside whining. That is almost worse, and Stiles can feel the tears that he has held in since his dad's memorial pooling up, and finally he lets them fall.

"Sorry girl… Scott will take good care of you." He says as he lowers himself into the warm water, still wearing his father's shirt.

He takes one of his dad's razorblades, and presses it against the skin of his fore arm.

The first cut is short, and shallow not much worse that a paper cut, but it still stings like a bitch and he hisses in pain, cursing under his breath. No one said that killing himself would hurt so much.

The next cut is deeper and longer, he pressed harder this time, and instantly blood wells from the wound. He tries to switch hands, but he's fumbling, his hand refusing to complete such a simple act. Instead he drops the blade into the water that is already turning red from the blood.

As he searches for the blade he hears that Sunflower has stopped whining outside the door. Instead she has started to bark, the same kind of bark that she used that time that he got a panic attack and she herself couldn't get him out, she had barked until his father had come running from the backyard, thinking somebody was being murdered.

Stiles is starting to feel light headed and dizzy, his vision starting to blur. He's not sure if it is because of the blood loss, or the fact that he has almost worked himself into a panic attack. It's probably the later. His left arm, with the cut is feeling numb. He's vaguely aware that Sunflower has stopped barking, and it sounds like she's running down the stairs. Seconds later he can hear her in the hallway, but his time she isn't alone.

There is a knock on the door, hesitated at first, but then almost a desperate banging. There is a voice shouting his name, but he's too far off to properly recognise it.

It must be Scott, he thinks, no… he can't ruin it…

Seconds later the bathroom door flies open, kicked in, and a blurry shape runs into view. But that can't be Scott, the hair is too light and he's far too tall. When Stiles thinks about it, it looks almost like his dad.

The person runs up to the tub, and hurls his damp body out of it before he has a chance to react. Suddenly he pulled against a broad chest, and the position is so familiar that it breaks his heart. A towel is wrapped firmly around his bleeding arm, and then he feels a hand against his cheek, turning him to face the person.

At first their face is blurry, but then as it comes into focus he recognises immediately. It's his dad.

But that can't be true… his dad is dead… isn't he?

"D-Dad? Daddy?"

The person, his dad, nods, holding back a sob. As Stiles looks closer, his dad hasn't changed that much. His hair is longer, and he looks thinner, but otherwise he looks just like his dad. Not even close to being dead. The only striking difference is his left ear, or rather the absence of it, it isn't there at all.

"Jesus, kid" His dad whispers, his dad, pulling him closer so that his forehead rests against the nape of his dad's neck. "Jesus, Stiles what did you do?"

"Dad… I thought you were dead- they said that you were dead. They stopped searching and- and I- I didn't want to, daddy! I don't want to grow up without you… they said you died… please daddy don't leave me again-"

"I won't Stiles" his dad says, hushing him, rocking them back and forth. "I won't go anywhere I promise…"

Stiles clings to his dad with all that he has, desperate for the comfort, desperate for the feeling of his dad's arms around him. His head is resting on his dad's shoulder letting him hear the comforting beat of his father's heart.

"Don't leave me like that again, daddy…" Stiles pleads, it doesn't matter that he's 16, he doesn't care that he sounds like a small child. He just wants his dad. "Don't leave me again please."

"I promise I won't leave Stiles." His dad says hugging him impossibly closer, one hand at the back of his head, stroking his hair. The other hand is holding his still sluggishly bleeding arm, the bleeding slowing down, but he'll definitely need stitches and it's a constant reminder of what could have happened if his dad had come home just a little later. "Not like that, Stiles. Never like that, ever again"

"I'm sorry daddy… imsorryimsorryimsorry…" Stiles cries into his father's neck, and suddenly he's reminded of their reunion after his mother's death.

"No, Stiles… It's okay, baby boy. Daddy's here. I won't leave… we're gonna be okay." His dad says, pressing a tender kiss on his forehead.

Authors note: Sooo… what did you think? Like it? Hate it (hopefully not)? Honestly I don't know what happened. I was gonna write something cute and fluffy with John surprising Stiles at school, and this is what came out. About as far as the original plan as I could come.

Hope you enjoyed reading. Please review and tell me what you think, even if you hated it and want to ban me from ever writing again from breaking your heart ;) . I've been thinking about writing companion pieces for this. Maybe from Sunflowers POV, or John's as he comes home. Please review and tell me your thoughts, and come with your own suggestions.

Thanks for reading this fic (sorry for the ramble), and please, please, pretty please review!