Stiles took a deep breath. He shook out his arms, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his neck a few times, trying to release the tension that had overtaken his body.

His mind kept reminding him that it wasn't too late to turn back. Especially with his vampire speed, he could be gone in a flash and no one would know.

Except, he'd know. And as much as dread weighed heavy in his lungs, he knew that he had to do this. So, with a slow and shaky hand, he rang the doorbell.

More deep breaths and moments passed. No response. He sighed.

You can do this he reminded himself.

He tried the doorbell again and knocked on the door.

He focused his hearing on the inside of the house, the one that he once called home but now felt entirely foreign. He could hear his dad's footsteps coming toward the door. Once again, he debated running, but his body remained still.

Then he heard his father grabbing the door handle, and realized that he couldn't do it.

But then, before he ran, the door was open, and his father was facing him and he was facing his father.

His throat felt tight as he spoke.

"Hi Dad," he said, feeling his own eyes growing misty.

He didn't know what else to say. He hadn't planned what he was going to say. He hadn't really planned at all. He knew it he needed to face his dad — knew it was time, not because he was ready but because he'd finally come to accept that he never would be ready.

"Stiles," Noah replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

He wanted to pull his son into his arms and never let go, but he knew better. He remembered the last night they spoke and the way Stiles recoiled from his touch.

So, instead, he moved to the side, gesturing for Stiles to come in.

"Do you need to be invited in?" he asked, noticing his son's hesitation.

Stiles shook his head before stepping inside.

It was silent as the two sat down. Noah certainly had plenty to say to Stiles, but he wanted to be careful, afraid that his son would just take off again if he said or did the wrong thing.

So, it was Stiles who broke the silence after an uncomfortable amount of time had passed.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. "...I️ uh...shouldn't have just come here unannounced I️ just-"

"Stiles," the sheriff interrupted. "I'm always happy to see you."

Why had Stiles had that gnawing pit of dread, then? Of course his dad would want to see him, despite what all of his irrational thoughts had been telling him.

But also, that wasn't what he really wanted to apologize for. He wanted to say how sorry he was for everything but didn't even know where to begin. He felt like he was going to cry or vomit or maybe both. And then there was the part of his brain that just wouldn't stop reminding him how easy it would be to just run. Just use his vamp speed and take off. At least he tried.

But deep down he knew that wasn't really trying. He had to stick it out. He had to do this.

"I'm sorry," he said again sheepishly, his voice barely above a whisper.

His dad shook his head.

"You've gotta stop apologizing," he said.

Stiles shook his head in disagreement, holding back tears.

"No, dad, I️ need to say this, okay? When I️...when I️ was human I️ never listened to you. And I️ never made anything easy for you. I️ was a shit son and because I️ once again didn't listen to you...now I'm a literal monster," he choked. The tears were growing harder and harder to hold back, but he wouldn't cry. He couldn't.

It pained Stiles' father to see how pained he was.

"Stiles, you are not a bad son, okay? And God knows that I️ haven't always been there for you like I️ should've. Parenting was never meant to be easy," he reassured.

Stiles bit his bottom lip and inhaled sharply, preventing tears from falling.

"But it wasn't supposed to be like this. I️ wasn't supposed to be like this," he said.

The sheriff shook his head gently.

"It's okay. I️ love you. No matter what. You know that," he affirmed.

Stiles nodded, the tears he had been fighting finally winning the battle.

"I know, Dad. I️ know. And I️ kept telling myself that just so I️ could even face you but- I️ still...I'm still-"

"You're still my son," Noah interrupted.

This time, he finally just pulled Stiles in for a hug. The boy didn't even resist, just letting himself be held.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry," Stiles said through tears.

He knew his father had told him to stop apologizing, but he didn't know else to say. He had been ridden with a guilt so profound that the even the idea of just seeing his dad face to face and looking him in the eyes had been entirely overwhelming.

"I know. It's okay. It's all gonna be okay," Noah said.

Stiles wasn't sure that that was true or even that his dad meant a word of what he was saying, but it still felt good to hear nonetheless. As much as he liked to pretend he didn't, he too, still needed someone to just tell him that everything was going to be okay from time to time.

"Come home, Stiles," his dad suggested abruptly.

Stiles moved back at those words and shook his head.

"Dad, I️ can't," he said, despite his father's pleading expression.

"I️ miss you," Noah said, adding on an extra layer of guilt.

Stiles nodded in understanding.

"I️ know, and I️ miss you too. And I'm trying to come to terms with what I️ am, but I️ could barely even force myself to come here..." he said, trailing off when he saw the hurt look on his father's face.

Suddenly, all of the warmth and comfort he'd felt was gone and the sick feeling was back.

"-I️ didn't mean it like that. I️ wanted to see you, Dad, I️ really really did more than anything. But even just facing you after what I've become...I️ can't just move back in and pretend everything is normal," he explained.

While everything Stiles said was entirely true, there was one reason that he was leaving out: Theo. Theo had been alone for enough of his life. He wasn't going to leave him.

"I'm not asking you to pretend," Noah uttered.

Stiles nodded.

"I'm still figuring a lot out. And I'll be okay, I️ need you to know that. But I️ just can't," he said.

The sheriff nodded and sighed. His son was nothing if not stubborn, so he knew that efforts to try and convince him were most likely futile.

Stiles then spoke again.

"It was good to see, you, Dad."