Stilinski House

Stiles' POV

By the time my dad arrived home and lingered outside my bedroom door without knocking, I already knew that Scott's body had been found and that he was gone, courtesy of my dad's old police scanner I... Borrowed.

I knew something was wrong when Scott didn't contact neither me nor Allison after his disappearance, I just knew.

With how much Scott has been all about Allison the past few months, there was no way a day could go by without him contacting her in any way, and since I was the go-to person for their secret verbal messages and Scott's best friend, as time went by without getting anything from him, I feared the possibilities.

There was one possibility that I didn't want to think about, that Scott was dead, that kanima-Jackson killed him and since Allison's father killed Jackson before we could ask questions after we captured him, I feared we would never know and Scott's disappearance would be a cold case forever.

Some part of me wished I only had to deal with a cold case I would have dedicated my life to solving than finding out that my best friend, my brother in all but blood, was dead, and his body was found by a worker at the rave warehouse in its walk-in freezer.

I didn't expect to find much while listening to my father's police scanner frequency, so I was hit hard when he suddenly reported, following a dispatch per his instruction to anything that had to do with Scott's case, that he checked the place he was sent to and found a dead body in the walk-in freezer and identified it as Scott's.

I didn't hear anything after that or remember much, only that I suddenly felt overwhelmed with great grief and loss and heartache and a lot more depressive emotions I felt but couldn't identify and yet felt numb at the same time, and the next moment, I found it difficult to breath, and...

And that was all I knew, until I woke to the sound of my father's car door closing rather loudly.

Speaking of, he finally opened the door and came in.

I closed my eyes tightly, glad that my back was to the door, so he wasn't greeted by my tear filled eyes and red puffy face lying on a tear soaked pillow.

I wanted, no, I needed to hear him say it again, I needed to hear him tell me that my brother was gone, and I set his early death in motion by going to his house the night before we returned to school and insisted that he accompany me to the Preserve in search of a dead body when all he wanted to do was to sleep and dream of making first line.

But alas, my dad didn't know what I did.

I suddenly realised that he didn't know anything, he was clueless and didn't have even the slightest idea just what went on in the county he was supposed to protect and serve.

"Umm, son," My dad began, and I held on tight to my blanket with iron grips while my tear ducts gathered more tears, and they soaked my pillow further.

"Yeah, dad," I replied with a shaky whisper I knew Scott would have heard as clearly as if I had spoken out loud, holding back a sob.

"I... I'm sorry."

I couldn't hold back the sob at those words for they felt like claws to my heart.

"I'm so sorry, son," My dad pressed on, sitting on the bed. "Sco-Scott has... Scott has passed away."

One sob was followed by another, and then another, while it felt like my heart and lungs were being squeezed, especially when I felt my dad place a hand on my shaking shoulder despite feeling like kanima-Jackson injected me with his neurotoxin.

I wanted to blame him.

I wanted to blame my dad for not doing his job, for not knowing what really went on in Beacon Hills, for not knowing what I went through these past months, but most of all, for failing to save Scott.

I so wanted to lash out and actively use my only weapon against him and sarcastically tear him down like I was breaking down, but I couldn't.

He was my father, the only one I had left, and I couldn't lose him, I couldn't afford to alienate him because not everything was his fault and I kept things from him.

So, I broke down and cried.

CUT

Noah's POV

Although I personally handled Scott's case and identified his body and said that he was no more a few times, it was only after I broke the news to Stiles that Scott's death sank in, and I understood why Melissa didn't want me to say it.

Words held power, whether hand signed, spoken or written, it didn't matter, they had untold power.

And it seemed Scott knew that too, but now wasn't the time for me to think about the message Scott somehow carved into the walk-in freezer's door as his final words.

I had Deputy Clarke and Deputy Haigh looking into it, anyway, so I focused all my attention on the now and gave my son the support that he needed.

It broke my heart to hear Stiles' pained cries and sobs, but he needed to grieve, he needed to cry and let it all out, and it appeared I did too if my blurry vision and silent tears where anything to go by.

I joined Stiles on the bed after taking off my shoes, socks and jacket, and for the first time in too long, my son slept on my chest.

I was grateful for the moment because two families were never going to have such a moment with their sons, and said sons were Stiles' schoolmates and peers, so I cherished the moment with my son, but above everything, I cherished him.