The echoes of Stiles footsteps reverberated through the empty hall of his house, one he shares with you and your dad, the Sheriff of Beacon Hills.

His footsteps were heavy, laboured, and altogether too weak for someone who had just come back from a lacrosse game that had, let's be honest, been a triumph.

He had been kidnapped by Gerard Argent and tortured alongside Boyd and Erica until Gerard freed him.

Stiles's face was a mosaic of bruises, cuts, and blood, and his clothes were stained and torn. He looked like he had stumbled through hell and come back — barely.

Inside, you paced anxiously in the kitchen. The lacrosse game had been over for hours, after Stiles had finally been taken off the bench for the first time ever, scoring three goals.

Instead of meeting you after the game, he had vanished.

You had frantically searched the town and surrounding woods with Scott. This wasn't like Stiles — something had happened. Something bad.

Eventually, it hit 11PM, and you and Scott split up — Scott continued scouring the town, and you stayed at home in case Stiles found his way back.

It was now bordering on 12:30AM, and you were inches away from calling your dad and just telling him everything, from Scott turning into a werewolf to the whole mess with the Argent family, when the kitchen door creaked open.

You froze at the sight.

Stiles.

He was barely able to keep himself up, leaning against the doorframe, unable to hold his own weight. Your jaw hung open, not knowing what to say.

Stiles lifted his head, revealing an eye swollen nearly shut. He managed a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Hey... I'm home."