Chapter Text

Prologue

Beacon Hills was long behind him. Mieczysław "Stiles" Stilinski looked at the campus for Columbia University. He was starting over after leaving Beacon Hills, and he really hoped that he never saw it again. Nothing good had come of him being there. His best friend had washed his hands of him after Theo had told him about Donovan's death. A lie all the same, but still. In the wake of everything that had happened before that, Stiles had just shut down. He had turned to school and stopped worrying about the creatures that went bump in the night.

Stiles had more than enough money to go anywhere for school that he wanted. His father's life insurance had more than paid for his schooling, but he had earned a full ride to Columbia after buckling down and doing his best in the final two semesters of high school. It was a good final year. Well, as good as it could be.

The ringing of his phone had Stiles jumping. He looked at the caller ID and smiled before answering it.

"Parrish," Stiles greeted.

"Stiles. How is the first day going?"

"I haven't had a class yet. It's still not even eight yet. You have the morning shift?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah." Parrish sounded like he was more than fully awake.

"How is everything going?"

"We are having issues, but they are none that you need to deal with. I've called in help, and it's going great so far. Just a lot of hours."

"Still doing the joint Sheriff thing with the guy from Beacon City?"

"Yes. I'm probably not going to run, but now the whole city council is dragging its feet as it starts to understand what's going on. McCall's help with the FBI and their supernatural division has helped, but they are still working on the new guidelines."

"What about Argent?"

"Which one? Gerard is dead. Killed three weeks ago. I got the notification yesterday."

"I was talking about Chris."

"He's been doing well on training the force to deal with everything. The killings of supernaturals had been escalating, and it's not the Hunters. They are looking, and it's happening in other cities with Nemetons."

"I'm glad Scott's dad's working out."

"Well, he's a better judge of character than Scott. By the way, Donati's death has been ruled an accident based on the body."

"Donati's?" Stiles asked. He felt his world shifting a little.

"McCall pulled in all of the deaths that happened with the Dread Doctors and the Chimeras. Theo told the truth this time, and Scott's a little pissed at Theo for lying, but he's not copped to his own culpability in it; you have been cleared."

"No one talked to me."

"I already had your statement on record from when you talked to me about it."

Stiles didn't remember that. He really didn't.

"It was the night you were drunk after Scott told you that you were the reason your dad was dead. That he was working on getting away from you."

"I remember." It was the night that Stiles had gotten so fucking drunk that he passed out on the couch before eight in the evening.

After Stiles' dad had been killed, Stiles had been just under two weeks away from being eighteen. The deputies had banded together to make sure that he didn't go into foster care a city away. Then he had moved around between them until he had ended up with Parrish until he had graduated high school. It had been good, and then right after graduation, every single person in Stiles' life, including Chris Argent, had raked up enough money to send Stiles to New York early and get him an apartment with everything paid for the next four years while he was in school using the money from his housing part of his scholarship to help with what it couldn't cover. Stiles had more than enough money for it, but he planned to stay in Beacon Hills to save the money. Now he had enough to make sure that he wouldn't have to work at all while in school, probably even through a Ph.D. if he didn't do stupid stuff. He had a little bit of his money in investment accounts, and he played with them to earn a steady enough bit to sink back in. He took half of what he earned in the accounts each month, put it into a savings account, and then took the other half and dropped it back into the investments. That money had come from the trust that had been in his name from his mother's life insurance money.

The rest of the money had gone to pay for her medical bills that hadn't been covered by insurance and paying off the house so that there was one less bill for his father to worry about. The leftover from that had gone to Stiles. Stiles had called it blood money when he had been younger, but now it was the only thing that would make sure that Stiles did what he needed to get his degree and start to live again. Stiles knew that he had to put his head down and get through schooling.

Nothing was ever going to get rid of the huge hole in his heart from being an orphan, but time did heal wounds, even if they still hurt like a bruise, there was no gaping wound on him anymore from his mother's death. One day it would be the same with his father's death.