The house is quiet as you stand outside Stiles’s door, hands shifting at your sides. It’s only been a few hours since he vanished after the lacrosse game, but it felt like days.

You knock lightly, once, twice, then a third time before the door creaks open, revealing his familiar face, bruises marking his cheek and lip. Stiles attempts a faint smile, but it falters when he notices your worried expression. Before he can say anything, you murmur. “Your dad let me in.”

Your eyes meet his before dropping to the cuts and scrapes on his face. “Said you were home, but he didn’t exactly mention… this.”

“Before you freak out, I’m fine,” he insists, leaning against the doorframe, trying to look casual. “Seriously. Totally fine.”

“Right,” you drawl. “Totally fine with a face that says you’ve been dragged through a bar fight.”

He scoffs. “Fine-ish, then. Just… no big deal.”

You sigh but decide not to press further. “Okay,” you say, easing into a lighter tone. “But next time you pull a disappearing act, I’m teaming up with your dad for a bigger search party. Posters, alerts, helicopters—we’ll find you, Stilinski.”

He snorts. “Going straight for the big guns? You know that’s my dad’s job, right?”

“Which is why I’ll get access to the best resources,” you shrug. “Bet the station has some embarrassing photos of you.”

He chuckles, wincing as he touches his cheek. “Guess that means I’ll just have to keep you in the loop.”

“Yeah,” you say, softening. You step past him into his room, settling onto the edge of his bed. He watches, a bit surprised.

“What? You’re stuck with me for a bit,” you point out. “Someone has to make sure you don’t go on any more unplanned field trips.”

He rolls his eyes but follows, closing the door softly. “You know, I’m not usually the one in trouble. That’s Scott’s thing.”

“Mhm—so you just disappeared after the game for… a spa day?”

He snorts, sitting next to you. “Yeah, something like that. You wouldn’t believe how bad the service was.”