INTERLUDE : I

"If you're reading this letter right now, I'm dead - or worse.

How can you be worse than dead, you may ask? Honestly, I'm not entirely sure I want to know. Death itself is not very nice. So I can't imagine what could be worse than being chopped up by a psychopath with murderous tendencies.

Spending an evening alone with Dolores Umbridge, maybe?

Or listening to Frozen's 'Let It go' on repeat. I think we can both agree that next to that, Lucifer can sit down and ask Elsa for torture lessons, because frankly, that tune drives me crazy. I mean, even right now, I have it stuck in my head and I'm very hesitant to bang my head against my steering wheel. I mean, I probably would have, if I wasn't so worried about damaging Roscoe. Or cracking my skull with my overpowering strength.

But I digress.

So I was saying, and forgive me for saying it again:

If you're reading this, it's because I unfortunately didn't make it.

I could give you lots of explanations. Lots of whys and wherefores, but I don't really have the time. That's what I'm missing tonight. Time. What I've been missing these past few weeks.

I know they have been particularly hard on you. My behavior has been more than a little strange and I am fully aware of that. A lot has been going on lately. Unfortunately, I made a promise and it is with a heavy heart that I intend to take it to my grave.

What a cruel son I am, not to leave you a name, a culprit, a person to hate.

The truth is, Dad, that I am responsible, me and only me, for what happened to me.

But enough of the mundanity.

I wanted to make things right, you know? A father and son dinner, like we didn't do enough of. Not as serious, I mean. Just plain silly. Your son's a repressed Hufflepuff who's barely living up to his name, Dad. But he's fine with it. Work has caught up with you, though. I don't blame you. So don't be too hard on yourself. I mean, you're the fucking Sheriff of Beacon Hills. What you do is awesome. You help people, every day. You put away bad guys and, I've never been more proud to shout out loud that Noah Stilinski, is my dad. I'm very proud. Of you, of all this. Of everything you've done.

So don't be mad at yourself.

Because I'm fine.

I'm fine.

My life has been one happy moment after another.

Sadness sometimes.

Because, you know? Mom.

But you did everything right after she left. Everything was perfect. You were perfect. So thank you for that. Thank you for this life. For these meals. For those TV nights. For giving me so much freedom, for being an amazing father.

It's a bit disjointed, forgive me, but writing on the dashboard of a car, a series of sentences that come to me all at once, is not easy. I really tried to summarize everything. To get to the point, but I got a little lost along the way. I'm starting to miss the paper and my wrist is getting sore, so I probably won't linger.

The clock is ticking and I'm scared, Dad.

I'm scared to death, because I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to save you tonight.

A good friend told me not to worry too much, but I can't help it.

She already knows what will happen.

So do I.

I do hope you will take care of yourself.

I hope you will find a nice little wife and start a family again.

Because family is important, Dad. It means a lot to me. Think of this as my last wish. I only want you to be happy. And, if it has to be with another Claudia and another Stiles, then go. Just go for it. Don't wait any longer.

I'll be with mom, watching over you in your least glorious moments, wishing I could come down and kick your ass, because that's what I do so well.

I love you dad, with all my soul, with all my being.

So live, so my death wasn't all for nothing.

Forever your son,
Mr. Stiles. Stilinski.

PS - Don't take advantage of my absence, to stuff yourself with Pizza and such. I'm serious, man. Cholesterol and all that.

PPS - Will you remember to water the plants? It wouldn't be fair if they were to wilt because I'm not here to take care of them anymore. Oh and talk to them too. They love to hear about what we do all day. Probably because they're stuck in pots, you'll tell me.

PSSS - If you could also delete my google history. No shit, I really forgot. It slipped my mind. And, I don't particularly want everyone to know that I did the entire Twilight series before I died."