John stood outside Beacon Hills High School and gripped the walkie-talkie as it spewed static noise into the air. He had had to deal with a lot of weird crap in this town but now he almost wished for a rabid werewolf instead because this deadly unknown virus wasn't anything he knew how to handle.

As the Sheriff, he was concerned about every student and faculty member in the currently locked down school and everyone in his town, but as a parent he was worried about his kid. Stiles was in there with no way of contacting him if something went wrong and Lydia said someone was going to die.

"Are you sure you don't know who it is?" The teenager looked at him with a somewhat irritated expression but kept her annoyed huff to a minimum because she knew he was only worried.

"Yes I'm sure Sheriff. I'll know who it is closer to the time of their death but sometimes it's fuzzy I don't always get their name. Sometimes I just get the details of how they die. Or, like on my first few occasions, their dead bodies."

John didn't really know what to say to that. This girl was so young and she had already seen more dead bodies than some of his deputies had. But she was also a genius and braver than any kid her age ought to be.

"Well just stick close to me so we can sort this thing out. I still can't tell if it's got to do with any supernatural crap or if it's just normal crap." Lydia laughed a little and muttered that it was probably both.

John looked down at her just as she carefully wiped a tear from her make-uped eye, and remembered that her mother was in that building, as well as all her friends.

"They'll be okay kid, you'll see."

The Sheriff heard her sniff and her voice wavered. "Allison wasn't."

"Hey now-"

"I couldn't warn them in time, I couldn't save her and now they're in there and I can't help anyone. I don't even know how to use these stupid powers yet and… I just really don't want to have to go to another funeral."

The girl erupted into tears and the cop just couldn't see her so upset and not do anything about it. John carefully placed a hand on her shoulder only to be met with a face full of strawberry blond hair when she curled into his chest for a hug. Patting the girls back he hugged her back and waited for her breathing to calm before speaking.

"That wasn't on you. It wasn't your fault and if I had found out I was a banshee, and if I could do what you can, I probably wouldn't leave the house. But here you are going to school, getting perfect grades and supporting your friends all the while fighting all the supernatural bullshit this town throws at you. You are an amazing young lady but this isn't your responsibility and you're not alone in it this time. This time the adults are all in on it and you don't have to worry about dealing with it all on your own. They'll be okay."

Lydia sniffed in his arms and when he let go she carefully wiped her face.

"Thank you Sheriff." John smiled at her and went back to staring at the windows of the school, hoping to catch a glimpse of his son, and ignoring the static of his police radio.

…..

Lydia was starting to pace. She was wringing her hands and occasionally she would stop and squeeze her eyes shut like she was concentrating on hearing something before resuming her pacing. It was making the Sheriff nervous. Suddenly there was shouting from the front doors of the school and John could see Agent McCall hastily putting on a biohazard suit and going in, much to the distress of the CDC workers.

The Sheriff was about to go and ask them what was happening when suddenly Lydia stopped her even steps and instead looked at the school terrified.

"What is it Lydia?"

"Stiles." John thought his heart may have stopped. A banshee, one that predicted death, had just uttered his son's name like it was the last time she might ever say it.

"What about him Lydia? Are you sure? It can't be-"

The girl started hyperventilating and brought her hands up to her mouth like she wanted to catch the scream she felt coming.

"Oh God, Stiles." The Sheriff was breathing hard now too, watching as the girl got more and more distressed, tears falling down her cheeks now.

Suddenly there was a loud bang from the school, the unmistakable sound of gunfire which made The Sheriff instinctively step toward the sound, hand on his own weapon. But at the same time that gunshot rang out, maybe in fact a little bit before, Lydia jumped in fright and slapped her hands over her mouth before the scream could erupt from her.

And that was it. The Sheriff ran for the school doors ignoring all CDC personnel and burst through the doors uncaring of the risk of infection. He had to find his son. John sprinted through the school shouting his sons name and growing more panicked each time it went unanswered.

His son could be dead and he couldn't even find him. It was a nightmare. All around him he saw faces of the sick and those terrifyingly haunting masked people in those bulking suits.

Finally the Sheriff saw a glimpse of his son's shoe. He recognised them from this morning because Stiles had dropped the milk and complained about it getting on his sneakers. But the shoe was unmoving on the foot it was on.

Sprinting down that hallway Johns eyes were met with a sight no father wants to see, his son leaning against a wall, eyes closed and unmoving. Even worse, there was blood splattered all over the kids face, some of it flecked on his shirt as well. The Sheriff could hardly move until he saw his son's chest rise and fall. He was breathing. He was alive.

Blinking away tears, the father knelt beside the boy and shook his shoulder a little.

"Stiles? Wake up kid, come on, let me know you're okay." It took a little while but the teenager shifted and opened his eyelids to reveal his tired brown eyes. John wrapped his son up in a hug and squeezed him tight letting all the worry flow out of him at the feeling of his child in his arms.

Finally releasing him, The Sheriff lent back and took in the blood still on Stiles' face. Stiles blinked, realizing what he was looking at and quickly shaking his head.

"It's not mine, I'm okay Dad the bloods not mine." John wanted to know who's blood it was and was about to ask when the wall behind them suddenly shifted and slid open to reveal Scott, Malia and Kira. They looked half dead but they were okay, Scott dragging himself over to sit beside the father and son. John scooped Scott closer to them and wrapped his arms around both the boys.

"I'm so glad you're safe."

….

The Sheriff walked Stiles out of the school, Scott following behind, with one hand on his sons shoulder because after a day like this he wasn't letting him out of his sight easily. The kid was obviously exhausted but there was something else about the way his shoulders slumped and his eyes stayed fixed on the ground, that told the Sheriff that something was bothering him.

There were too many people scurrying about now to ask him about it so the father simply squeezed his sons shoulder. Stiles was wearing Johns Sheriff jacket, at his insistence, because he was shivering and he was paler than usual. John made a note to get him checked out before they went home.

The three made it outside and were immediately met with a scream.

"Stiles!"

John looked up to see Lydia sprinting towards them, her eyes wide and cheeks still wet with tears. Stiles had only looked up long enough to see who it was before she slammed into him, almost knocking him over with the force of her hug. Stiles looked surprised but quickly wrapped his arms around her, talking to her as she cried.

"Hey, it's okay. We're all okay."

The girl was holding on so tightly her words were muffled by Stiles' shoulder.

"I felt it. I felt your death coming and then I screamed and- Oh god, Stiles I thought you were dead."

The Sheriff watched as his son comforted the girl he had loved since he was a child. The way Lydia and Stiles moved together, it was natural, practiced. They obviously knew each other's touch well enough to comfort each other the way they were doing. Stiles had a hand running through the girls' hair, while the other held her to him, comforting her in such a gentle and intimate way.

Scott was watching with surprise but it seemed to be at the thought that Stiles had almost died. He was worried, John could tell as much from the way he set his jaw and the puppy eyes he currently had on.

The Sheriff wondered how many times these kids had done this. Watch one of their friends almost die and have to be okay the next day because no one could know about the horrors this town hid.

Lydia finally let go long enough to look at Stiles and trail a finger across his cheek, the blood smearing at her touch.

"It's not yours?"

Stiles swallowed and shook his head. He looked haunted by whatever had happened and John knew he wouldn't be letting this go. Lydia hugged Stiles again as she finally calmed down, satisfied that the boy was okay.

The Banshee stepped back again, taking a deep breath and half-heartedly frowning at the two boys in front of her.

"I'm gone for one day and you all almost die. Typical."

Scott laughed and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank god we have you then."

Stiles allowed a small smile to light his face as he watched Lydia. John watched his son and smiled too, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"Let's get you kids home so you can do this all again next week."