A/N: I didn't realize it until I was ready to post but this is a pretty good fit for Father's Day. Happy Father's Day!
I'm still not 100% sure if this will be a long fic or broken up into a series because each new chapter will be episodic self contained plots but still part of a larger continuous arc (does that make sense?). For now it will be a multi-chaptered fic.
Anyway, this was influenced by a binge-a-thon of Sabrina the Teenage Witch (because I'm trash), so you will see parallels like my cheesy rhyming (so sorry). This was supposed to be a lot more light hearted but ended up kinda angsty. I hope it's still fun to read!
And feel free to throw concrete - I mean - con-crit at me (or both)
"Mom, what was dad like?"
"Hm. He was handsome like you. Smart like you. And stubborn just like you." His mother said with a teasing smile.
The young boy huffed indignantly and crossed his arms. "I am so not stubborn!"
"Oh really? And who spent the past two weeks sneaking my spellbook out when I left for work?"
The young boy winced. "You knew about that?"
"I did. And no more spells until you're older."
The young boy nodded. "I wish I could have met him."
"So I do too." She kissed her son on the forehead and crossed the room to the door. "Goodnight, Stiles."
"Night, Mom." Then Stiles whispered goodnight to the photo of his dad on his nightstand.
As he drifted off to sleep, his father was the last thought on his mind - wishing he could've met him before he passed away.
*****(Years later)*****
It happened with Stiles being Stiles and his best friend, Scott McCall, being dragged along for the ride. A typically average situation with a completely unexpected turn of events.
Stiles' mother's spell book was strictly off limits unless he was under the watchful eye of his witchcraft trainer. And since Stiles went through them like tissue, the teenage witch never had much time to spend with the book of spells. It was a Friday night and as usual the dorky duo didn't have any plans or dates to occupy their time. So Stiles took it upon himself to use the locator spell he had memorized because of his best friend's frequent inability to keep track of his asthma inhaler. It was an unusual disorder for a werewolf like Scott to have with his advance healing abilities.
The spell book was hidden safely in the fireplace of the McCall house. Scott's super sniffer wouldn't have been able to track it because of the burnt smell of wood. No doubt the clever idea of Scott's mom and Stiles' guardian, Melissa McCall.
Scott's mom and father, Rafael McCall, were going to be gone until early dawn so it was the perfect opportunity to unleash some grade A level spells.
When Melissa dragged her worn out feet through the front door after a draining night in the ER, at most she expected the boys to have had pigged out on pizza and dug into their not so secret stash of candy. She didn't expect to see her ficus in the walkway to sing as she walked passed, a small cloud of snow sprinkling over the kitchen sink, or the lights to change colors with every step she ventured into the mad house.
"Boys! I told you before my house is not supernaturally proofed! Keep the spells outdoors!" Melissa yelled out.
Through the the kitchen screen door, she spotted the back of her son's floppy head of hair sitting in the yard along with Stiles' red hooded cloak covering the young witch's head, a fixture whenever Stiles performed spells. The witch tended to have a flair for the dramatic.
She was ready to have them reverse the spells and clean up the mess from the now dancing plant shaking dirt from its pot before her husband came home. Stiles' antics were a constant hot button topic for the recently repaired married couple. Rafael felt Stiles was a mischievous influence on his son. But Melissa never had a problem with their stunts… as long as they kept it out of the house. She grabbed the mop and broom out of the kitchen closet before walking out in the backyard to reprimand her boys.
The biggest surprise of the night was found in that backyard. Her son rubbing soothing circles into Stiles' back as the young witch kept his tear filled eyes on the pages in his mother's book. If Melissa wasn't so tired and the house wasn't so consumed with the scent of magic, she would have been able to smell the overwhelming emotions radiating from her adopted son.
Stiles had summoned the whereabouts to his mother's book when he casted the locator spell but he never specified which one of her books. The book he was led to turned out to be her diary.
And by reading it Stiles had found out his father was a human from the mortal realm and very much alive unlike he was led to believe his whole life.
Stiles' discovery happened to coincide with the Winter solstice. One of four rare times of the year when the veil between the Other Realm and the mortal realm. And the young witch planned on taking full advantage of that.
"Stiles, are you absolutely sure about this?" Melissa asked for the umpteenth time as they stood at the front door almost ready to leave to the house. "He wasn't… receptive when your mom told him about being a witch. And I promised to keep her secret because I saw how devastated she was after he rejected her. Finding out he has a son with the same abilities…" She wasn't trying to be so negative and disappoint Stiles but she remembered all too well how distraught her best friend felt when she returned to the Other Realm heartbroken from rejection after revealing her supernatural secret to Stiles' father.
"Mel." Rafael chided.
Scott ran down the steps waving an object in hand. "Found it! Wouldn't want you to leave without it."
Stiles smiled gratefully at his adopted brother for finding his photo album. "I'm just going to meet him, Aunt Mel. It's no big deal." Stiles rolled his eyes, careful to hide the action under the guise of finishing his packing. He was still a little mad at her for hiding the monumental secret of his father being alive in the mortal realm but he would show her respect. "Besides, if Mom didn't still love him I don't think she would've kept his picture after all those years or told me stories about him during my bedtime as a kid."
The witch loved Scott like a brother, Melissa like second mother, and Rafael… like a… well, that was a work in progress. Stiles hadn't quite taken to forgiving him as the same as Melissa and Scott had. But he was getting there. Mostly. Anyway… As much as Stiles thought of the McCalls as his family, there were small, very brief moments when he felt like an outsider with them. The way Melissa would share advice to Scott on controlling his powers would remind Stiles of the spells he used to assist his mother in conjuring. And how Rafael would tease Scott about being future heartbreaker once he got out of his awkward phase was the relationship Stiles imagined he'd have with his father.
This could be a way of being closer to his mother. She loved Stiles' father, and had spoken fondly of him anytime Stiles had questions about him when he was younger. Even though she lied about his existence, there must be some truth about how good of a man his father is. Wasn't there?
After Scott gave the witch a crushing hug ("Werewolf strength, Scotty!") there was just one stop Stiles had to make before his life altering trip.
Stiles visited the preservation mausoleum where his mother and countless other victims resided. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I wish everyday…" The witch choked back a sob threatening to surface. "I know we'll be together again and when we do I'll have our whole family back together. I love you." He knew he must look foolish hugging a wax sculpture but his mother lied dormant in there and though she couldn't feel it or was even aware of her son's presence, the action gave Stiles the very slightest bit of comfort.
It was Melissa's first time coming back to the mortal realm since her last trip sixteen years ago. And that time she and her best friend each came back home with a souvenir - two sons growing inside them. And now, she could very well be losing a son when she goes back home.
"It feels different here." Stiles noticed as soon as they drove away in a rental car from the portal area that brought them to the mortal world. Only he and Melissa made the journey there.
"That's a world without magic." Melissa replied.
"But I can still use magic, right?"
"You can, Stiles. But remember the rules. Please." Melissa practically begged. She knew how stubborn Stiles could be about following rules. It was how the two of them even found themselves there.
"Rules? There was only one. 'No magic.'" Stiles frowned. He found it to be a stupid rule, but he kept the thought to himself. If he had to give up magic for a few days to meet his dad he'd comply - maybe not happily but he would willingly.
But as Stiles gazed in awe driving pass the festive decorations of bright lights, shiny ornaments around trees, and whimsical red and green costumes exhibited around the town - he began to wonder if maybe these humans had their own kind of special magic.
Sheriff Stilinski chewed a bite from his freshly delivered bacon cheeseburger, his second of the day and it was only noon. But the comfort food was much needed to cope with the stress of the reduced number of deputies around the office this week - it being the holidays and people wanting time off to be with loved ones. And Sheriff Stilinski sadly did not have that problem. But pulling overtime didn't cause the Sheriff too much hardship in a small town like Beacon Hills. More often, all he really had to deal with were decorations being vandalized and people trying to shoplift overcrowded stores. But it could be draining having to console and extract info from furious victims. At times it felt like Noah Stilinski was less of a sheriff and more of a customer service rep. And if he was being honest, this time of year hadn't put him in a cheerful mood for a long time.
The weary Sheriff was ready to sit in his office and continue eating the rest of his bacon cheeseburger before his phone inevitably rung when he noticed an open mouthed teenage boy staring at him in amazement.
"You okay there, son?"
The teen boy let out a short, breathy laugh. "Son. You - you know who I am?" Wide, hopeful eyes pinned the Sheriff.
"Uhm, should I?" The Sheriff asked before he switched his gaze from the confused teen to the older woman standing protectively to the side.
The Sheriff squinted his eyes, studying the boy before him with scrutiny. The teen looked as if he wanted to smack his forehead for saying the wrong thing which Noah thought was being too hard on himself. Beyond that observation there was a wave of familiarity the older man felt looking at him. He had seen those soft brown eyes before. Many times before. Whenever a similar set of warm brown eyes were remembered from the Sheriff's past every so often, guilt and regret soon followed the memories.
"Who did you say your mother was?" The older man asked, even though the boy had never mentioned. The protective woman beside the teenager had no resemblance to him, so the Sheriff figured they weren't related but still close with the way she cradled herself to his side. And although the Sheriff had no proof, he knew the answer deep in his heart.
"Claudia." The boy answered, confirming the Sheriff's suspensions.
It was a name Noah hadn't allowed himself to say aloud ever since he last saw her. Sixteen years ago. He wasn't even going to bother asking how old the boy was.
And to think, Sheriff Stilinski thought the most challenging thing he would face that day were shoplifters and vandalizers.
Even though Noah felt in his heart the teenage boy that showed up in his office was his son, he had to be 100% sure. And being a sheriff, he was one flight of stairs away from a speedy DNA test to confirm their relation.
The teenage boy, Stiles - apparently a nickname, stated he had just learned of Noah's existence recently and wanted a chance to spend a little time together during this special period. Noah assumed Stiles meant Christmas. And Noah agreed without hesitation.
"This house was passed down to me by parents." Noah said as he opened the front door to his home and allowed Stiles to enter with his guardian, Melissa, following close behind. He noticed her scrunching her nose in displeasure as she walked further in the home. Sure it wasn't the most immaculate space but it was good enough for company, the sheriff had thought.
"Your parents? Does that mean have some grandparents?" Stiles inquired enthusiastically.
"Um… no. Sorry." Noah answered. Again he caught a look from Melissa except she was glaring at him. He hoped she couldn't tell he was lying.
"What about cousins, aunts, or uncles?" Stiles prodded, unaware of his guardian's look of suspicion.
He shook his head, answering truthfully this time.
"It's only you, no other family?"
"Just me… but I did host a little Christmas party at the office. Holiday party - I'm supposed to call it." He offered, hoping to wipe away his son's pitying look. It doesn't really work.
"What's Christmas?"
Noah spurted out a chuckle. His amused look vanished once he realized Stiles wasn't making a joke. "Wait. You don't know what Christmas is?"
Stiles shrugged. Noah furrowed his brows. Even if the kid is from another country, he had to know what Christmas is. He was speaking perfect English. How is it possible he's never heard of Christmas before?
"Stiles, Christmas is a special holiday in the mortal realm around the time of winter solstice where people typically spend time with loved ones exchanging gifts." Melissa explained to Stiles.
"Is that what all the decorations we passed by were for?"
Melissa uh-ummed a response.
"Excuse me, ignoring the fact you don't what one of the biggest holidays on the face of this Earth is - if you aren't here for Christmas then why do you consider this a 'special period'?" Noah questioned.
Stiles scratched the back of his neck, looking nervous to answer. "Well, this happens to be one of the few times of the year where we can travel past the barrier between the mortal realm and the other realm… where I'm from."
Noah closed his eyes, a wave of deja vu hitting him hard. "Oh, hell…"
"I know you didn't believe Mom but she really was… is a witch. And so am I." Stiles rushed out, fear apparent in his voice. Stiles looked to Melissa. "I know I'm not supposed to but can I please show him?"
"Only this one time." Melissa granted.
"Show me what?" Noah regretted the words immediately.
Stiles had tried showcasing his magic to his father but like his mother had told him when he was a young boy- the man was stubborn.
When the half-dead plant sitting on the window sill belted out an odd song about chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Stiles' father had dismissed it. "I've seen singing fish before. That plant doesn't prove anything."
When a small flurry of snow appeared in the kitchen, the Sheriff excused it as weather typical for this time of year. "Plus I've been meaning to fix the roof."
Stiles last feat of magic - the lights flashing different colors with every footstep - didn't manage to sway the older man either. "Ever heard of the Clapper?"
Without his mother's spellbook with him, the frustrated witch couldn't think of anything else to do other than his weak spark which could easily be labeled as a trick of light.
With a heavy annoyed sigh, Melissa stepped forward and revealed her werewolf form to Noah. All fangs, claws, and red glowing eyes. And as an added bonus to end any possible doubt, she lifted his couch with one hand. "Steroids?" He tried but their combined demonstration had finally sunk in.
Stiles had left his father's home shortly after convincing the sheriff of his supernatural ability for some time to absorb recent developments, leaving the shell-shocked sheriff with their number and location of where they would be staying in town. The witch had been worried that it might be the last time he would see or hear from his father again until the next morning a knock on their hotel door brought him face to face with Noah Stilinski. He sheepishly asked Stiles if he would like to spend the day together. The witch grinned in delight and raced to grab his jacket to head out.
But before the Melissa allowed Stiles to leave alone with Noah, she gave the Sheriff a promise, not to be confused with a threat, that if any harm would come to Stiles in his care, emotional or physical, that she would show him the full power of what an alpha werewolf was capable of.
And Noah just had one rule for Stiles to agree before they went out. "No more magic." Stiles sighed but agreed, voicing with a pout why no one wanted him to use magic.
"Good luck." Melissa parted as the two men left.
"Thanks." Stiles said.
"I was talking to the Sheriff."
Noah was worried that taking his son out for a Christmas meal at a local, no-frills diner would be a great disappointment for not only their first Christmas together, but also Stiles' first Christmas ever. His worrying seemed to be for nothing since the teen shared Noah's love of the establishment.
"Mortals definitely have their own magic." The witch proclaimed and shoveled another hearty round of curly fries a moan loudly emanated from Stiles' stuffed cheeks. "Mortal Realm food is so awesome!"
"They don't have potatoes in your world, I take it." Noah figured.
"Nah. And it's a crying shame!" Stiles forcefully shook the ketchup bottle in his hand to emphasize his outrage. A glob of ketchup flew across the table on the Sheriff's cheek. The boy was completely unaware and continued. "We do have Dragon root though. But it's not from a dragon if that's what you think, it's just fertilized from a dragon's -"
"Please don't finish that sentence." The way Stiles gestured which part of the dragon was used left the Sheriff with a queasy gut.
Their server arrived with another helping of food that Noah happily let Stiles to himself. "Hash browns!" The teen cheered. "I seriously love mortal food!"
"You keep saying mortal... Does that mean you're immortal?" Noah asked. There was still a lot he didn't know about his son's supernatural nature.
"Nah, there are no immortal creatures. No matter what kitsunes may try to have you believe."
The Sheriff just blinked, not even bothering to ask exactly what a 'kitsune' is. He decided it would be best for the sake of his sanity to stick with relatively easy questions - Stiles' birthday, his hobbies, friends, and such - from that point forward. And leave some of the more reality warping ones - like Stiles mentioning dragons being a real thing so nonchalantly - to the side for another day… or another year.
Stiles was nearing the end of his meal when he spoke again. "So, where to next, Dad? Is 'Dad' okay? Or should I call you something else like: daddy, pa, papa, pops, old man, daddy-o?"
"Dad, will do just fine." Noah shook his head fondly.
Again, Noah was worried about letting down Stiles when the two went back to his home to watch classic Christmas movies on the couch. There was no large gathering of family around for holidays like normal families for Stiles to engage with. And the only festiveness in the house the sheriff could muster up came from a marathon of Christmas movies.
But Stiles still seemed to be having a good time. And the Other Realm resident was particularly enjoying a movie Noah had never heard of before. A Diva's Christmas Carol. And thanks to that movie the older man learned that his son is a pretty terrible singer. Just like his mother.
Claudia.
When Noah had asked about her, Stiles explained that she was in a coma-like state but wouldn't go any further in detail like how it happened or if there was a chance she would 'wake up'. He could tell whatever happened was a struggle for Stiles to talk about so he didn't press more on the subject. At least Stiles had Melissa to watch over him in Claudia's absence. The sheriff had seen she was fiercely protective over the boy as if he were her own. And if Noah remembered correctly, he had met her a few times back when he and Claudia were dating but he didn't remember much about her other than Claudia saying Melissa was her best friend from back home.
Stiles hadn't lied about how he loved getting to know his dad. But the witch's heart ached having this inside look at his father's life.
It was a special holiday season according to Melissa. A time of family and celebration, happiness and togetherness. But being in the Sheriff's home one would think it was just an average week. Stiles had noticed that, unlike the houses they passed by, his father's house barely had any decorations other than a dingy-looking wreath on the front door.
Another thing he noticed when he arrived at Noah's home was the big collection of empty bottles sitting in the hallway waiting to be recycled. The witch had seen his aunt's nose scrunch up so it had be alcohol - she never cared for the strong scent of booze. He hoped his dad didn't have a drinking problem.
And the last worrying observation was there were no photos of family or friends in his home or when Stiles visited his office. Stiles couldn't understand why the kind man didn't have anyone special in his life. The man had just discovered he had a son and Stiles had expected to be introduced to someone - anyone. But there wasn't. Then a dark, depressing thought had crossed Stiles' mind.
Who's there to take of him if anything bad were to happen? He is a sheriff after all.
Stiles chewed on a thumbnail worrying over his father, losing attention from the movie about a tall green striped man among much smaller green stripped people. But a request from his father for a beer jostled the witch out of his head.
When Stiles reached the fridge, he noticed the food inside with more scrutiny. Nothing in here was healthy. Living with a nurse who had a no nonsense approach to having a balanced diet opened Stiles' eyes to his dad's eating habits. And he remembered the bacon cheeseburger he saw his dad holding when he first met him. And the beer he retrieving wasn't the first of the night, or even the day for that matter. Stiles had thought the fast food and take out was just a special occasion for the guest but this seemed to be his father's daily routine of burgers, steak, and beer. Despite the older man's fit appearance, his eating habits were cause for alarm.
Stiles marched back into the living room, without the beer requested, where he his father sat content watching the movie. The witch muted the TV and spoke with passion. "I may be a witch, but we still share the same physiology. And I know your diet can't be healthy for you, especially at your age."
Noah sat up, surprised at the dramatic change in tone of the evening. "What? Wait… Just how old do think I am?"
The witch shot him a look saying 'you're completely missing the point'.
"Stiles, where is this coming from?"
The witch made his point by pointing to the coffee table in front of the couch and then to the table stand. Both of which had empty food wrappers from diners and empty beer bottles.
"Okay, that doesn't look great but I'm usually more conscious about what I eat. Honestly, this is only because I haven't been able to go grocery shopping in a while. I'm completely fine, kid - there's no reason to worry."
It would be really helpful right now to have a werewolf handy right now to make sure his father wasn't lying to him. But Stiles didn't need a werewolf. If the witch could make a plant sing, surely he can get his dad's heart to talk.
With some modifications to his spell, the witch started the incantation. "Um, to ease all of concerns about my dad's ticker, give us insight about his health to consider."
Stiles looked around for something to happen. He began worrying the spell hadn't work since he didn't have a specific object to enchant like with the lights or the plant and the witch never had much practice making his own incantations. But as the quiet stretched on, Stiles heard the faint ringing of the phone Melissa gave him, muffled under the couch cushions.
It turned out to be a call from the Heart Line. His dad's heart was calling the witch directly. "Well, I guess who would be more of an expert about your health than your own heart."
The witch put the call on speaker so his dad could hear firsthand about his high cholesterol and his not-so distant mortality if the man didn't start shaping up.
"Hey! You're my heart, you're supposed to be on my side!" Noah looked down at his chest.
"I am on your side. Your left side." His heart answered matter-of-factly through the phone.
"Real funny." Noah snatched the phone and ended the call but that didn't mean the conversation was over.
"See? Your own heart said your diet was no good!"
"Dammit Stiles, I made the rules perfectly clear - you do not get to use magic, especially on me!" Noah deflected.
"Yeah, well... what's the rule on blatantly lying to your son?!"
"Kid." The older man stood up, the creaking of the old sofa following his action. "This is all new for me. I'm used to it just being me and I do things however I want." He tried explaining to the scowling boy. "But I have you to think about now, so…" He walked past Stiles to the kitchen, the curious witch following behind. He opened the refrigerator and cabinet doors to throw out all the junk food and greasy takeout. The sheriff took a second look around the kitchen almost completely bare of any food to eat. "I think I need to go to the store."
Stiles smiled brightly. "Don't worry, pops, I'll show you how it's done. I know some great salad recipes. Plus, we can get some potatoes!"
Noah had to laugh. He had never seen anyone so passionate about potatoes before. And he had never felt so touched that this kid who he met a day ago cared so fiercely for him, as much as Noah cared for Stiles.
By the end of that day he spent with his dad, Stiles had come to a similar realization as well that brought him to a decision he didn't make lightly.
Stiles' decision had been a true shock to his aunt Melissa. But the young witch, after only a couple of days, was prepared to live with his father in the mortal realm.
"Are you still sure about this? What about your witchcraft training?" Aunt Melissa asked as an incentive for Stiles to reconsider his decision to live in the mortal realm.
'What about it' he countered with only the quirk of a brow.
His guardian understood. Stiles never had a magic teacher stick with him for longer than a couple of weeks. With each new instructor, Stiles had to prove what he had learned so far. Then by the time they saw how far he had developed and would allow him use of more advanced spells… that's when all hell would break loose. Actual fire and brimstone one time.
Stiles was just too curious for his own good. 'Mischievous' might be the more appropriate word for the witch.
"The next one might be the one." She said weakly grasping at straws to convince the witch to stay.
"So you're really leaving, Stiles? What will my constant splitting headache do without you?"
"Rafe!" Melissa scolded her husband's poor attempt to lighten the mood.
"I'm only teasing the boy, honey."
Melissa rolled her eyes, unwilling to find any amusement in the situation, and left the room to go upstairs to make sure Stiles hadn't forgotten anything important.
Once Rafael was alone with Stiles, he spoke as lowly as possible to keep the other werewolves in the house out of the loop. "Mel is gonna kill me. But there's something you need to be on guard from in the mortal realm... They're called hunters."
Stiles had heard of them at an early age in school. Remnant warriors of the past when the two worlds were one. They were the people that caused their two worlds to be separate. The Other Realm was created as a place of refuge from the humans that wanted all supernatural beings eliminated. Hunters still existed in the shadows, though in smaller numbers, to wipe out magical creatures that stayed behind in the mortal world.
"You'll need it." Rafael gave Stiles his mother's spell book.
But Melissa caught the exchange and snatched the book before Stiles could put his fingertips on the coveted book. "No! No, no way are you taking that with you!"
"He needs to protect himself!" Rafael argued.
"The best way to protect himself right now is to keep 'this' out of his hands. Stiles is untrained and using this level of magic will only bring attention to himself." Melissa countered. "I'll give you some items to protect yourself against supernatural - and mortal enemies. But this," she holds up Claudia's spellbook, "stays with me until you find a teacher. There's no magical metal detectors over there that will beep violently if you happen to cross a hunter. Staying inconspicuous is your best bet at staying undetected. And If it doesn't work out with your dad or you feel unsafe for any reason, go to the supernatural embassy and you'll be until the next portal opening."
There wouldn't be another one until Spring Equinox. Stiles knew this. He knew that he would be cut off from his adopted family for an entire three months but it didn't deter him from his decision. He needed to be with his dad. He lost one parent, he doesn't want to lose another.
When Stiles returned back to his dad's house - their house, he casts a spell to make an exact replica of his one from the Other Realm in the spare bedroom with his dad's hesitant permission. The witch doesn't account for the spell working quite so perfectly and it recreated his mess as well as the furniture. Stiles felt the room was a perfect clone of his room at the McCall's - all except for one item was missing.
Stiles took out the frame that he'd said goodnight to for over a decade and placed it on his nightstand. But instead of the picture frame holding a photo of his dad, there was a picture of his mom.
"Nice of you bring your mess with you, kid." His father stepped closer into the room, inspecting the newly placed picture. "I remember that day… It was the day before I last saw Claudia. Before I…"
Before he ruined things and she fled not only Beacon Hills but the entire world. And it was all his fault, he internally scolded himself.
"If I wasn't such an idiot… all that time I missed out on your life is my fault. I'm so sorry, Stiles."
Stiles wasn't going to lie and say it was okay, that it was no big deal. Because he knew firsthand how awful it felt to be the cause of hurting someone you loved most. The witch blamed himself everyday that his mother wasn't with him. And nothing anyone said to him made that guilt lessen. So instead, he said, "You're here now. And we have each other, let's just focus on that." He beamed.
His father chuckled lightly. "Right - you're right. Let's make the most of our time together. And as my first official act as your father, I am ordering you to clean up this room. No magic."
Stiles gaped in horror. "B-but it's my first day here and it's Christmas! I thought we could, like, hang out or something fun, y'know. You and me."
"And we will. After you clean your room." Noah left the room with a smirk while Stiles grumbled under his breath and then began collecting all his dirty scattered clothes and random to stuff into his closet.
There were other shortcuts the witch could use without the use of his magic.
After a hard shove to close the closet door full of junk, Stiles bounded down the stairs suggesting they go back to the diner for a salad for his dad and a basket full of curly fries for Stiles for a job well done. If his dad would start acting like a strict father then Stiles would be the crafty son.