Hi! So this is a one-shot episode tag for 4x08 'Time of Death'. It kind of bothered me that Scott 'died' in the episode and we didn't hear anything from his father so I just made a little tag to satisfy my curiosity. That coupling with the severe lack of Father/Son bonding fanfics on this site all but forced me to write this. I hope you enjoy. Agent McCall's POV.

I'd also like to thank my beta Skylark22155. She. Is. Awesome.

All rights reserved to MTV, Jeff Davis, and every other awesome person who had a hand in creating these characters.


It all ended with a phone call.

I didn't hear anything from the Beacon Hills officer after he uttered the words "I'm so sorry, there was nothing they could do." I vaguely remember sprinting through the FBI field office to my car.

I could hardly comprehend anything as I drove down the highway in the middle of the night, not caring how many miles over the speed limit I was going. My hands were clinching the steering wheel so tight, my knuckles screaming in protest, but that was the only way to keep the tremors in my hands at bay.

I'm not sure why I was in such a rush to get to my worst nightmare, but I just had to get there. This had to be a bad dream that I was surly about to wake up from.

But I was a man that refused to live in false realities. I had seen so many horrible things that I had been forced to come to terms with. The world was a hard place with hard truths, and I refused to let myself live in fantasies.

But this. This was too much. I didn't know if I could handle this reality.

My son was dead.

My child, who I was just starting to make amends with, was gone.

A strong wave of nausea rolled through me forcing me to slam on my brakes and stumble out of the car onto the side of the road. I fell down to my hands and knees and wrenched up what felt like everything that wasn't attached inside of me. Breathing hard, I got back to my feet and wiped my mouth across my sleeve. I stumbled back to my car and started driving again.

I'm not sure how much time passed before I reached the Beacon Hills off ramp. I slowed my speed to a slightly more manageable level as I made my way through town to the hospital.

I came to a screeching halt in front of the emergency room. I all but ran into the stupid automatic doors that just wouldn't open fast enough. The emergency room was full of people and, as always, slightly hectic. I started toward the first nurse I saw in front of a computer, pushing past the line of people.

"I'm looking for Sco-" no, my son was dead.

Swallowing down the pain I continued. "Melissa McCall."

A flash of pain and sympathy spread across the nurse's face that made me want to puke again.

"She's on the 2nd floor, room 206." she answered.

I was moving almost before she finished speaking, hardly hearing her distant calls from behind me.

I took the stairs two at a time. I pulled open the stair way door to find a nurse's station and a long hallway lined with doors. I bypassed the nurse's station, quickly finding the door with the numbers 206 posted next to it. I came up short at the door with my hand on the handle, not able to bring myself to push the door open.

I took a step back to try to compose myself. I ran my hands through my hair and straitened my jacket. I wasn't sure what I was going to find on the other side of the door, but I wanted to be calm and ready. I needed to face this strong and collected. Taking a deep breath I stepped forward and opened the door.

Inside I found a rumpled empty bed. Melissa was standing next to it by the window with her back to me, staring out at the night sky. She turned hearing me enter. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Rafe? What are you doing here?" Her voice was husky, like she had been crying.

I walked closer to her stopping just out of arms reach. Up closer I could see tear tracks on her face.

"I got a call from an officer. He said-" I paused trying to swallow down the grief threatening to claw its way out of me."He said that Scott-"

I couldn't bring myself to say the words out loud. That my son was dead. The words got stuck on the growing lump in my throat.

I finally settled for a different approach. "Where is Scott? Where is my son?" I said, my voice breaking on his name. I was losing control over my emotions fast.

Before Melissa could answer, a voice came from behind me.

"Right here."

My head whipped around so fast that I nearly fell over. There stood my son in the bathroom doorway.

Alive.

I stood in shock just staring at him for a few moments, before taking three quick strides over to him. I pulled him to my chest and wrapped my arms around him clutching him to me.

Hesalivehesalivehesalivehesalive.

This was all I could think. He was warm and breathing and ALIVE. I buried my face into his hair, breathing him in, not even caring how strange it might be. I thought I was never going to hold him again and now here he was in my arms. My breath stared to hitch and I felt tears well in my eyes.

I felt his arms wrap around me and start to rub my back.

"It's okay Dad. I'm alright."

Was he alright? I quickly pulled back keeping my arms on his shoulders and scanned him for any injuries. He was wearing blue scrub pants, and a white T-shirt, but they didn't seem to be concealing any injuries. He looked exhausted, with dark bags under his eyes, shoulders slumped, but other than that he looked perfectly fine.

"Your okay?" I asked, checking again.

He gave me nod and a small smile tugged at one side of his face. It seemed that was all he had the energy for. I noticed him starting to sway slightly and quickly stepped aside, wiping my face while keeping one hand on his arm to help him to the bed. I didn't want to let go of him, afraid he might disappear. He slowly eased himself down onto the propped up hospital bed like his muscles were sore. Worry bubbled up inside of me again. I pulled a chair closer to the bed and took a seat.

"Scott what happened? I got a call from an officer saying you were dead." I turned to Melissa, who was standing on the other side of the bed. "Melissa?" I said, making it clear that the question was for both of them. They looked at each other for a moment before Scott started talking.

"We don't really know. Stiles found me in my room passed out and called an ambulance. The next thing I know I was waking up in the morgue. I don't remember anything."

My eyes widened at this.

"What?" I asked in shock.

I really was that close to losing my son. I turned to Melissa hoping she had a better explanation.

"I was on shift when I got a paged to the emergency room." Melissa started. "They told me... They told me that Scott was brought into the ER in full arrest. They tried CPR, defibrillation, and epinephrine, but nothing had worked. They said that there was nothing they could do," she said, echoing the words that were said to me. "Then an hour later I am being told that Scott is awake and seems perfectly fine. No one is sure what exactly happened."

I took a moment to process all of this. Scott was pronounced dead for almost an hour for no apparent reason, but now he is fine. Something just didn't add up.

"We're missing something here. I need to talk to your doctor. He must have messed up. How could he pronounce someone dead when they weren't?" I said starting to stand, but before my legs were even all the way strait I felt a hand around my wrist.

"Dad, please don't," Scott said, his voice pleading.

"Scott the doctor pronounced you dead when you weren't. There is something wrong here."

"I saw him," Melissa intervened in a broken voice. "I saw him after they told me he was dead and I'm telling you that any medical professional would have come to the same conclusion. Now I'm not sure what exactly happened, but I'd rather just be grateful that Scott is with us now. Safe."

I looked back down at Scott's pleading eyes and slowly lowered myself back down to the chair, deciding that this might be a battle for another time. Melissa was right, we should just be grateful that we still have our son here with us right now.

"Okay." I said.

Scott looked relieved, and leaned back into the propped up pillows, his eyes drooping.

"Okay." I said again, a little more soothingly. "Just get some rest. You look exhausted. I promise I'll be here when you wake up."

Scott nodded.

"Good," he muttered with a slight nod, his eyes already closed, and his breath slowly evened out in peaceful sleep. Melissa also gave me a grateful look before going back to staring out at the night sky.

I leaned back in my chair and watched Scott's chest rise and fall. I wrapped my hand gently around Scott's wrist, needing the contact. I could feel his steady pulse beneath my fingers.

I couldn't believe how close I had come to losing him. I don't know what I would have done.

Shifting into a more comfortable position, I resigned myself to the hard plastic chair for the rest of the night. I didn't plan on moving until Scott woke up, because like I said before I left for San Francisco, I plan on keeping my promises this time.


What do you think? Good? Bad? Let me know in a little review. I love constructive criticism. Thanks for reading J