Stiles winced as he gripped onto the stair rail; he could feel the cuts and bruising on his face and his ribs didn't feel much better. Not to mention the guilt welling up inside of him when he had to leave Erica and Boyd in that psychopath's basement, but he had been forced out of there by another hunter once he had his ass handed to him by a ninety year old and had to walk home from the street light down the block from his house.
He knew that there was no way he could have helped them out of there, but the feeling in his chest that he could have didn't make him feel any better about the situation.
He made his way to his room, stumbling as he walked and that's when he heard his father desperate plea to the empty room.
"Come on, Stiles, where the hell are you?"
"Right here," Stiles choked out, regretting it when he saw his dad's worried face as he approached him, "dad, it's okay. It's-" he hissed through his teeth as his dad tilted his chin to see the injuries in the light.
"Who did it?"
"It's okay, it was just some kids from the other team," Stiles lied through his teeth as he pulled his face out of his father's hold, "they were pissed about losing and I was...I was mouthing off, you know?"
"I want descriptions."
"Come on, dad, it's not even that bad."
"I'm calling that school. I'm calling them, I'm marching down there and I'm gonna pistol-whip these little bastards!-"
"Dad, I!," he yelled, watching his father's face shift from anger to concern, "I said I was okay."
"God." He muttered under his breath as he pulled Stiles into their tightest hug in years, the raw skin pressed against his father's shirt. Stiles couldn't keep the tears in his eyes as he hugged him just as tightly.
After several silent moments, they finally let go of each other with Stiles' body aching as his father gently tilted his face into the light again.
"I need to let everyone know you're safe. You should clean up, okay?"
"Okay, dad." Stiles smiled briefly, waiting until his father disappeared downstairs to stumble to the bathroom.