Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.

A/N: Holy Batman! Sorry it's been forever since updated this. It's like I basically gave you all a small taste and nothing else. Sorry, but I lost my mojo a bit for Teen Wolf after season three. But I got some of it back and I hope you guys all enjoy this way overdue update.

The New Norm-Chapter 3

"So then I told Mrs. Finnly that if she is going to waste my time by teaching such fundamental skills as heterocyclic compounds then pardon me if I would rather paint my fingernails," Lydia says.

Allison nods as her friend carries on talking about what a waste school is with its mediocre lessons. She smiles as she sees Scott run down the lacrosse field easily catching a pass from a teammate.

Lydia has moved the conversation to the required reading list for her AP English class when the brunette's eyes move from the lacrosse field to the two people who have just arrived at the game.

"I can't believe it," Allison says softly instantly recognizing the pair.

"Can't believe what?" Lydia asks with a tint of worry in her voice. "Allison, is everything okay?"

Allison smiles at her best friend and motions with her head to the two people standing somewhat awkwardly near the field.

"What? What am 1-"Lydia starts to ask but stops when she sees what, or who Allison is referring to.

"Stiles!" Lydia says almost in awe as she looks at the teenager who looks like he is trying to disappear into himself. Stiles very rarely ventures outside his safety zones of his house and the rehabilitation center, so to see him here at a lacrosse playoff game is a shock to say the least.

Stiles' eyes are fixed to the ground, but his father's eyes meets the two girls', silently asking them for their help.

"Come on!" Lydia says standing up. Allison doesn't need to be told twice as she quickly follows the redhead down the bleachers.

"Stiles! You came!" Lydia says as she stops in front of him and the sheriff. She moves forward to give him a hug, but she stops herself. Stiles made it very clear that he doesn't want any extra attention and gauging by his inconspicuous hoodie and baseball cap he wishes to just blend in. Granted, she doesn't think that is likely to happen based on the whispers she hears and the stares she's feeling. And she knows that no matter what brain damage Stiles has suffered he can no doubt sense the tense atmosphere as well.

It's been months since Stiles' near drowning. The condition of the lanky teen has been the main gossip of Beacon Hills High until very recently. No doubt that only changed because the tight group of friends remained mute about Stiles and without any new information, the student body quickly got bored and the school's gossip changed course. Thank God.

"Scott will be so happy to see you," Allison says.

Stiles doesn't say anything but nods his head.

"Melissa told us that she had to work a double. We thought that Scott could use the extra support. Right, kiddo?" The sheriff says as he turns to his son.

Stiles remains silent, but nods his head again. No doubt nervous about talking where there are people who have not become familiar with hearing his stuttered speech.

"Unfortunately, on our way here I got a call. I'm going to need to head down to the station."

Lydia nods understanding what the sheriff is saying or in this case isn't saying. It probably took everything in his arsenal to get Stiles to go to the game, and now with his father having to leave, Stiles will probably jump at the chance to retreat back to the safety of his home.

"Stiles, look at me," Sheriff Stilinski says in a soft, but stern voice. His son lifts his head up. "Do you want to stay with Allison and Lydia or do you want me to bring you back home before I head down to the station?"

The three wait silently as Stiles nearly bites through his bottom lip trying to make his decision.

"Come on, Stiles." Lydia urges. "Scott will be so happy to see you came. He probably has already seen you, what do you think he's going to think when he sees you left before the game was over?"

The redhead knows she's playing dirty. She knows she's totally guilt tripping her friend. But, he made the first big step just by coming down to the game. She just wants him to see this though. Prove to himself that he's still that snarky, cares about everyone before himself, and confident Stiles he was before that ritual sacrifice went drastically wrong. And if she has to play dirty and give him the saddest puppy eyes to get him to stay so be it.

"Yeah, stay Stiles." Allison chimes in. God she loves her best friend. They're always on the same page when it comes to the things that matters.

"I-I-I w-want to-to st-stay," Stiles says softly.

Lydia closes her eyes in silent victory.

"Yes!" Allison says laughing.

"Okay, son." The sheriff says, giving his son's shoulder a squeeze. "Text me if you want me to come get you. Let me know what you're doing after the game. If I can't leave the station I'll have Parrish stop by and give you a ride home. Okay?"

"B-be f-fine, D-Dad. W-w-worry too-too m-much," Stiles says with a smirk.

Lydia smiles. That's Stiles. Allison lets out a chuckle.

Sheriff Stilinski rolls his eyes. "Okay, kids. Have fun."

Stiles starts to make his way up the bleachers, Allison follows close behind because Stiles still struggles with his equilibrium. The last thing he needs is to fall with his busy body, gossip hungry classmates looking on. Lydia stays back for a second and mouths "We got him" to the sheriff. The older man nods his head but stays where he is until Stiles is seated safely towards the middle of the row sandwiched between Lydia and Allison.

Lydia can see the tension in Stiles' shoulders. Can still hear the whispers and not so subtle glances at their directions. "Don't worry about them, Stiles. They try anything and Scott will kick their asses."

Stiles lets out a snort. "F-for-get h-him. Y-you t-two sc-sc-arier."

Allison lets out a snort of her own. "Damn right we are."

The trio watch the rest of the game without incident. Thankfully, the spectators' attention is soon turned back to the game. Stiles doesn't really talk much. But, he does get up and cheer every time the team made a big play. A couple of times Lydia and Allison subtly put their hands out when Stiles sways a bit in his haste to stand up and cheer his team on. But that was it. Before they knew it a victorious Scott makes his way over to his three friends.

"Stiles!" Scott yells running up to his best friend, embracing him in a warm hug. "You came."

"C-c-course I d-did," Stiles says into his friend's neck. He goes to break the hug, but Scott only holds him tighter. "Y-you can l-let m-me go. G-g-get-t-t-ing d-d-dog s-s-sweat all-all o-over m-me."

Scott laughs but let's go of his friend, "Sorry, about that."

Stiles shrugs his shoulders. "F-fine."

"Great game, Scott." Lydia congratulates.

"Awesome game," Allison says as she leans in and gives Scott a kiss. "Oof, can't believe I'm saying this but Stiles is right. You're disgusting."

A look of hurt is on Scott's face but it soon disappears when he sees the three of his friends smiling. "Okay, I get the hint. Let me take a shower. I'll meet you guys back out here in like ten minutes? Maybe we can go grab some burgers?" Scott asks hopefully.

The girls nod their heads, but both can see that Scott isn't interested in their response. He's looking at Stiles.

"T-that w-would be g-good," Stiles says softly.

"Awesome!" Scott exclaims. "I'll be quick," Scott says as he rushes back across the field and into the school.

"Yo, Zilinski!"

Stiles looks up in confusion.

"I think he's talking to you," Lydia says as Coach Finstock makes his way over to them.

"W-what?"

"Good to see you up and walking, Zilinski," Coach Finstock says.

"I-it is?" Stiles asks.

"Good to see that old Nessy didn't get you like I heard."

"Nessy?" Allison asks.

"Loch Ness, Jesus Christmas. Kids today," Coach mutters. "Anyways, hope you get back to school soon. It's been awhile since I read one of your papers that has nothing to do what so ever with economics. Don't know how many more papers I can read about GDP."

"T-thanks C-"Stiles starts to say but is interrupted when the coach blows his whistle.

"Greenburg1 Can you try not sucking so much!" Coach yells as he jogs back onto the field.

"What the hell was that?" Allison asks.

"KInda sounds like he misses you, Stiles." Lydia says turning to him.

Stiles has a deer in the headlights look on his face, "Wh-wh-what? I-I- I d-don't k-know," he says still confused.

"Exactly, Stiles. I couldn't say it better myself." Lydia replies

XXXXX

Sheriff Stilinski tiredly rubs his face as he goes to get out of his cruiser. What a day. He only planned on being down at the station for an hour or two. Three at the most. But, here he is six hours later just getting home. So much for taking Stiles to the lacrosse game and then maybe going out for some burgers. Then again you know what they say about best laid plans.

He sees Scott's bike parked next to Stiles beloved jeep. The sheriff can't help but sigh in defeat every time he sees the jeep. He wishes that Stiles would let him move it. He sees the vehicle as something mocking Stiles progress, that even with his son's vast improvement in his motor and speech skills he still can't reach his goal of driving. That is the one milestone that Stiles just can't seem to reach. He needs to be seizure free for at least three months. The worst is that on more than one occasion Stiles has gotten so close to that probationary period but then a seizure cruelly rips that hope away. Most recently, he missed the deadline by a mere eight days before one helluva of a grand mal seizure ruined his license chances by sending Stiles crashing down in the shower earning him a mild concussion and five stitches.

But, where John sees the jeep as an object of mockery, Stiles seems it as a sense of motivation. It's why Stiles continues to work so hard on his recovery even after he has been warned several times by his doctors that his progress may have hit its plateau. That this is how far Stiles can recover. But, Stiles refuses to believe that and continues to work his ass off. And John believes that the hope of driving his jeep is his son's reason to keep working hard. He just hopes that he's not wrong in letting Stiles believe that he can and will drive again. So far, Stiles has been five weeks seizure free, he's almost halfway to the three month mark. He can do. John has to believe that he can do it.

The downstairs is deserted so John quickly surmises that the boys must be upstairs in Stiles' room. Sure enough Scott is lying down next to a sleeping Stiles.

"Hey, Scott." The sheriff greets.

Scott looks away from the television screen to the sheriff, "Hey."

"I hear congratulations are in order," John says.

Scott gives him a huge smile. "Thanks. It was a good game."

John nods. Based on the way Scott is looking at Stiles. He knows that the werewolf is not just talking about the team's win or the two goals he's scored.

"He asked me to bring him," John says.

"He did?" Scott asks. He knows how Stiles doesn't like to be around many people anymore.

"He did. Said that he wanted to see you kick some ass," the sheriff replies as he walks further into the room. "Did you guys get some food after the game?"

"Yeah, but we got it to go. Stiles was getting a little tired in the car. Was a long day for him. Going to the game after being at the rehabilitation center earlier in the day."

Once again John nods his head. "Yeah, it's Thursday so he has a full day there. He was probably tired before he even got to the game." And then working the nerve to actually go to the game and sitting through it, no doubt exhausted the kid. And exhaustion always increases the risk of a seizure and the last thing Stiles would want is to have a seizure in the middle of a crowded diner.

"He take his meds?" John asks. Even though he's pretty sure he knows the answer by the way Stiles has not even stirred since he entered his son's bedroom.

"Yeah, about an hour ago." Scott says as he stands up to start getting his stuff together.

"Scott, son. It's late, why don't you just spend the night?"

"You sure?" Scott asks.

"Of course, I am." John says sincerely.

"Okay, then. I'm just gonna go wash up before I turn in." Scott says as he takes a couple of things out of his duffle bag.

John nods his head as Scott makes his way to the bathroom. John moves closer to his son's bed. He rolls his eyes when he sees that Stiles still has his shoes on. Stiles was exhausted. He's right about his son's exhaustion when the kid doesn't even twitch when the sheriff unties his son's red converses. After tossing the shoes far enough away from the bed so that Stiles doesn't trip on them if he gets up in the middle of the night, John gently shakes his son's shoulder.

"Stiles? Stiles? You want to get changed or are you good like this?" John asks. Stiles doesn't open his eyes and instead burrows himself deeper into his pillow.

"The sheriff takes the lack of an answer as confirmation. He takes the blanket that's at the foot of the bed and covers his son.

"He really is out of it, huh?" Scott asks as he comes back into the room.

"Sure is. Between all the excitement and the meds, he'll probably sleep through the night," John says.

"That's good," Scott says as he sits next to Stiles on the bed. "Stiles was talking about maybe going to the movies next weekend."

"He did?" John asks. Stiles has not ventured to the movie theater since before everything happened. No doubt wanting to avoid huge masses of people and potentially seeing any classmates.

"Yeah, said something about maybe seeing an early showing. Still, that's good, right?"

John smiles. "Yeah, that's good."

Scott returns his smile and lays down on the bed.

John runs his hand through Stiles hair.

"I'm down the hall if you need me. We keep both our doors open now," John says as he makes his to the door.

"Okay, good night." Scott says as he adjust his blankets.

"Good night, boys." John says as he takes one last look at the boys before he turns toward his own room for the night.

I hope you guys liked this. I just love Stiles and Scott's friendship.