When John came home from the lake, it was past midnight and he felt tired in a good way. As if he was able to sleep without a little helper.

He did check for any surprise visitors, he hadn't seen Agnes in a while and that made him anxious, but when he found the house empty, he went straight upstairs and got ready for bed.

For once he fell asleep easily and woke up well-rested in the morning.

He even had the time for a real breakfast before he had to leave for work around noon. Humming under his breath John went for a full-on breakfast with scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausages. He added a glass of orange juice because he could hear Stiles complaining about all the grease.

Speaking of Stiles, when John checked his phone he found a message from him.

Tell Mark thanks for the money and if I ever need a favor I might think of him but for now, I don't want to see him or anybody else from the pack. I just want to be left alone

John answered that he would relay the message. The check-mark didn't turn blue, Stiles was most likely under.

Nibbling on a stripe of bacon John wondered what Mark had written in his letter. He would never ask, it was none of his business, but Stiles' message gave him a general idea. Mark had offered a favor but it didn't look like Stiles intended to take him up on it. Werewolves were social creatures, they were there for each other so it seemed natural that Mark had also offered the help of the pack. Which was the last thing Stiles wanted.

Of course, the first thing Mark asked when he saw John was if he'd seen Stiles. Instead of an answer, John showed him Stiles' message.

"Oh," Mark made.

"What did you expect?" John asked and took his phone back. "He never wanted to have anything to do with your folks to begin with."

"It just doesn't seem right." Mark let out a sigh. "We screwed him over back then and what I did to him …" He shook his head. "And now he's stuck at the lake. With Derek. I just wanted … fuck if I know what I wanted." Angrily he stormed off. John didn't try to hold him back.

John didn't know much about how packs worked but it seemed to go against a werewolf's nature to be alone. The very thought of being alone seemed frightening to them, that much John had gathered. It was the path to becoming an omega.

Stiles was different. He wanted to be alone. He didn't need people around him. As far as John knew he was the only person Stiles knew personally. Aside from Derek, John might be the only person Stiles called a friend. But Stiles didn't give the impression that he was craving more. And for sure he didn't want to become friends with the Hale pack.

John let Mark be for now and sat down at his desk. He still had to finish that report on the friendly neighbors.

He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice when somebody approached him.

"Deputy Stilinski?"

John startled and glared at whoever had sneaked up on him.

"Sam?" The hunter was the last person he'd expected to see.

"Do you have a moment?" Sam ducked his head to make himself smaller and damn was he young. It was hard to believe that this was a man whose profession was to kill things.

"Sure." John composed himself and gestured at the chair next to his desk. "What can I do for you?"

With a happy smile, Sam took the seat.

"It's about Stiles." He lowered his voice but John couldn't help but look over to where Mark was sitting at his desk. He seemed engrossed in his work but by now John knew that he was within hearing distance of a werewolf, lowered voice or not.

For a second John thought about taking this conversation outside but then he just asked: "What about him?"

"He's a prisoner," Sam said with a look around but there was nobody close by to eavesdrop on them. "Derek owns him and he's keeping him on a short leash. Are you okay with that?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm okay with it," John answered. "The question is if Stiles is okay with it. And the answer is yes. After you ambushed him yesterday we talked about this. He made it very clear that he's fine with how things are. He doesn't want you or me or anybody to intervene. He just wants to be left alone." John leaned back in his chair, suddenly he felt tired. "Beacon Hills is a peaceful little town. You've been here for a while, I'm sure you've noticed. Listen to your brother. Go to Ohio or wherever people actually need saving. There is nothing for you to do here."

"Stiles has been with Derek for a long time, are you sure he can speak for himself here?" Sam asked.

John knew what he was talking about, Stockholm Syndrome came to mind.

"You don't know Stiles," John reminded him. "You haven't seen him with Derek. You haven't even met Derek. You want to see a problem where there isn't one. Stiles doesn't want your help, he doesn't need your help. I think you should leave now." John made a point to turn back to his screen, he had work to do.

Sam thanked him for his time and left but he didn't seem convinced. John only hoped that his brother would be able to convince him. It had been weeks since those teenagers had drowned and aside from the incident with Nancy things had stayed calm in Beacon Hills. There had to be other places where people were actually getting murdered by something supernatural. Couldn't the Winchesters just take care of those?

John knew that it was wishful thinking but one could hope.

When he looked over to Mark the next time, he found his desk empty. John didn't think much of it. If he was honest he was glad that Mark wasn't there to question him about Sam. Even if the Winchesters weren't actively looking for the pack right now, they were still hunters and as such eager to kill anything not human. If they stumbled over a werewolf by accident …

John was the rookie of the team so when somebody had to go through a list of phone numbers to ask the same questions over and over, it was him. He spent most of his shift on the phone but at least that way he wasn't able to talk much to anybody. Mark did corner him when he went to get a fresh coffee, though.

"So they're trying to help Stiles now." Mark came straight to the point.

"I hope not." John took a too hot sip from his coffee and grimaced when the hot liquid burned his tongue. "You listened to us, didn't you?" Over the rim of his mug, he raised an eyebrow at Mark.

"Hard not to." Mark shrugged. "Besides, Agnes is keeping track of them. It would look bad if she hears that one of them has been at the station and I can't tell her what he wanted."

"She has people everywhere, hasn't she?" John wasn't sure if he liked it.

"It's her job to know what's going on in town." Mark shrugged. "Anyway, Stiles. You meant what you said to Sam? That we should just leave him like that?"

"You read his message," John reminded him. "He wants to be left alone. Just yesterday he told me that he doesn't want me or anybody to try and free him. Even if he had the choice, he would stay with Derek."

"You think that he's able to make that decision?" Mark asked, repeating Sam's question from earlier.

"Why is everybody suddenly so interested in Stiles?" John groaned. "He just wants the Winchesters to leave and for you and your folks to stay on your side of the town while he stays with Derek. Is his life perfect? Hell, no. Can it be improved? Absolutely. But on his terms."

John pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm going to teach him how to drive and then I'm going to give him Claudia's car. That gives him independence and a wider range of movement. That's something he wants. He wants little things to make his life easier, he doesn't want drastic changes. And for sure he doesn't want to lose Derek. No matter what it looks like on the outside Derek is his best friend. You haven't heard Stiles talking about how it is when he's with him. Stiles is happy and the last thing he wants is your help."

With that, John took his mug and stalked back to his desk.

The day had started so well but John went home that day still feeling off and angry at the situation in general. Mark must have felt that he wasn't in the mood and had left him alone for the rest of the day but tomorrow they would be stuck in a car together for hours. John was not looking forward to that.

He wasn't looking forward to the evening either. He felt the house looming over him even before he got out of the car and he just knew that the night was going to be bad. The house felt dark and empty even if it wasn't dark enough to switch on the lights yet. This was another kind of darkness.

John felt the weight of the house on his shoulders when he entered the kitchen. Today he'd earned the after-work drink he told himself when he poured the amber liquid into the glass. It wouldn't be his last. Not tonight.

John sipped the whiskey slowly, savoring the taste. Warmth spread in his belly but it was not enough to chase away the coldness sitting deep in his bones.

However, he needed something solid in his stomach too. He wasn't particularly hungry but he knew that he would regret it later if he didn't eat before he drowned himself in alcohol.

He opened a can of tomato soup and while it warmed up on the stove, he made a sandwich to go with it. It was more food than he would most likely eat but it felt like a complete meal that way. He took his food and a glass of water over to the living room to eat in front of the TV. At least for a while, the TV would provide some distraction.

John didn't even know what had set him so on edge. The way Sam and Mark had talked about Stiles … they didn't even know him and they were still trying to make decisions for him. Why that was bothering him so much John didn't know. Stiles could speak for himself and when he said that there was no way to free him from Derek, John believed him. So what could Sam or Mark even do?

John finished his meal and brought the dishes back to the kitchen. He came back with his glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. He wasn't proud of that, especially after yesterday when he'd gone to bed sober, but today he didn't even want to resist.

John got comfortable in Claudia's chair, carefully draped her cardigan over his knee, and leaned back with a fresh drink. By now it was dark enough to turn on the lights but he didn't.

A part of him wished that Stiles was there. Having him around did help, especially on a day like this, but Stiles hadn't said anything about coming by and John didn't want to push so he hadn't said anything either. Now he regretted it.

As if Stiles had read his mind, John's phone buzzed with a message from him.

How did Mark take it?

He didn't like it, John wrote back. He needed both hands to text so he had to set the glass aside. He didn't say but I think it's bothering him that you're alone

I'm not alone, Stiles answered promptly. I have Derek. And you

John didn't know how to react to that. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and he had to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat.

Sam came in today, he wrote just to say something. He didn't want the conversation to end just yet.

What does he want now?

Emotions were hard to bring across via text but John felt Stiles rolling his eyes in those words.

He might be on a mission to rescue you, John wrote. Put in words like this it sounded even more ridiculous. Mark overheard us, he might be on the same mission now

I DO NOT need to be rescued! Stiles added three angry emotes at the end.