"Stiles, this is a bad idea."

Stiles let out a breath and threw his hands up in the air. After he saved that girl from that creepy man, he had wanted to protect more people. His friends were currently protecting Beacon Hills from the Dread Doctors.  Stiles wanted to help, he really did, but he wasn't like them. Plus, there were criminals out there in the real world. Maybe Stiles was destined to protect the little guy.

"C'mon, Dad," he said, pacing back and forth in the Sheriff's office.  "Just let me come along on one job. I've been really interested in everything with the police and law.  I think this might be what I want to do with my life."

Stilinski placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "And, trust me, son, that's great. Hell, I'm thrilled that you want to follow in the footsteps of your old man, but... You're a minor. It's not allowed."

"But I'm your son," Stiles said.

"Yeah. You're my son.  My son who probably has more important things to do, like, save the world from those Dread Doctors," Stilinski replied, rummaging through files. "Scott, Lydia, Malia...  They all need your help. I've got the human stuff covered."

Stiles put up a finger.  "I am helping. The book was supposed to make us...  I don't know, remember something. It happened to Lydia. It hasn't happened to me yet. So, while I'm waiting, I might as well be helping you."

"I'm sorry Stiles, but it's a no," Stilinski responded, not taking his eyes off the files in front of him.

Stiles took a deep breath. All he was asking was for one day out with the Sheriff's department to try to use his powers for the good. For the little guy. The people who the McCall pack couldn't save. 

"Fine," Stiles said. "Alright. What if you just brought me along on a mission, just so I could see how it works? I really want to learn more about this, Dad. And, it's not like you haven't done brought me along in the car before."

Stilinski let out a sigh and dropped the file onto his desk. "I have two things to say. One, it's not a mission. We're not the Justice League. We're not spies. Two, I've taken you in the car to get cheeseburgers and curly fries from Jack-in-the-Box. Two different things."

Stiles opened his mouth to say something else, but his father cut him off. "I'll teach you about the law someday, Stiles, alright? You just can't come along."

Stiles sighed, defeated. He could feel the power coursing through his veins. After that night he took down that man, his powers seemed more in control. There were still moments when spiderwebs involuntarily shot from his hands and everything got too loud, but, he hadn't had any big, anixety-fueled moments.

Stiles walked over to the bulletin board where all the chimeras faces were plastered. He stared at their faces. His eyes glossed over the picture of Tracy Stewart with a big red 'X' written over it. He glossed over all the faces, but, when his eyes landed Donovan's face, everything in his body stopped working for a moment.

It all came flashing back to him. Being attacked by Donovan. The pure, burning hatred in his chest. The blood on his hands. Hearing Donovan's heart stop.

Tears began to well in the back of his eyes. That one person he took down had made him feel so good. It made him feel like a hero. For a moment, all of the guilt was washed away. But, now, as he stared at the picture of Donovan, he was reminded of what he truly was: a killer.

Stiles tore his eyes away from Donovan. Try to think, he thought to himself, attempting to shove the guilt away. What do all these people have in common? Why do the Dread Doctors want them?

Stiles is about to say something, when Stilinski's phone cut him off.  Ring! Stilisnki picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Stiles didn't mean to turn on his powers, but he was curious. He could hear the voice on the other line. "Please... Please help... There's this man... He has a gun."

The woman's voice was rushed, rapid, quiet and full of anxiety. Stiles' head snapped up. He forgot about Donovan, he forgot about the Dread Doctors and the strange side effects he would experience. His heart immediately became filled with concern for whoever this was.

Stilinski's eyes widened.  He opened his mouth to respond, when there was a gunshot from the other line. Bang! The person on the other side of the line gasped in fear. "Please! Please!" The woman whispered in a hushed voice.

"Where are you?" Stilinski said, walking out of his office. Stiles followed.

"On 7th Street. I'm in the alleyway by the record shop. P-Please... I... I think he killed someone."

"We're on our way," Stilisnki said. "There's a 187 on 7th Street! Parrish, Jones, Clark - come with me," Stilinski said, rushing throughout the station. Stiles' heart skipped a beat. Maybe this could be his chance to use his powers against the human evils of the world.

"Dad!" Stiles said. "I could come with you. I-I can help -"

Stilinski put up a finger. "No. No. Stiles, you can't help. You don't even know how to use a gun. And I don't want you getting hurt."

"I've been through worse, Dad. And, I don't need a few guns. I have a few tricks up my sleeve that you don't know."  Stiles sucked in a deep breath. He wasn't thinking straight. Something - maybe it was the sudden hunger had to be a hero, maybe it was the guilt from Donovan, maybe it was a little bit of both - was causing a riff in his mind.

Stilinski narrowed his eyes as Parrish reloaded his gun and the others got ready. "What the hell does that mean?"

Stiles' raised his eyebrows. "Do you trust me?"

Stilinski laughed dryly, before giving him a stern look. "No."

Stiles let out a deep, exasperated sigh. "Can you trust me just this once?"

Stilinski began to walk out the door, and Stiles reluctantly followed. "No, Stiles," he responded. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"What if it's something..." Stiles lowered his voice. "Supernatural?"

"Stiles - no." His father was very firm about this, then went off to find Parrish and the other deputies. Stiles let out a deep sigh. His eyes dropped down to his wrists, and imagined the spiderwebs shooting of his body. It wasn't that he didn't think his father could take care of himself, he just wanted to help.

When you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen... They happen because of you, Stiles thought to himself. He could help. And he wasn't going to give up that easily.

Stiles went out the back door, fumbling for something in his back pocket. It was pathetic, really, but, he wanted to use it nonetheless. He couldn't have people figuring out who he was. Even though his father was the sheriff, he could still get arrested. His anxiety made his mind go to the wrong place. Maybe they'll burn me at the stake, he thought with a sudden tingle of fear.

Stiles pulled the red mask out of his back pocket. It was only enough to cover his face, with two holes for the eyes. He slid the mask over his head, then broke into a sprint. With his new powers, he could run faster and didn't get out of breath as easily.

Stiles new a shortcut to get to 7th Street. The woman's frightened voice replayed over and over in his mind as he ran. There were only three things on his mind as he ran:

1. The material he used to make the mask was too itchy

2. He needed to make sure his father didn't get hurt

3. He needed to save that woman and take down that killer

***

Stiles finally arrived at 7th Street, right behind the Sheriff's car, about eight minutes later. The mask still clung to his face as he pressed his back against the wall, looking over at the crime scene. There was a slaughtered body at the corner of the street. He could barely see anything in the dark evening light, but, along with the flashlights from the deputies and a sharpened sense of sight, Stiles could make out almost every little detail of the scene.

He silently hoped that the woman was still alive.

His father, Parrish, Clark, and another deputy were standing near each other, guns and flashlights out. Bright lights flashed across the scene, revealing different splatters of blood and guts on the cement floor. Due to his sharpened hearing, Stiles could hear every word the deputies and his father were saying.

"She said she was in an alley, right?"  Parrish said.

Alley. Stiles kept his back pressed against the wall as he inched along the wall.  He tried to focus on his hearing in on the woman in the alley, but, he couldn't control his powers yet. Instead, his father's voice was in his head, even louder. "Parrish, go find the woman. Be careful."

Stiles' could sense the tone of urgency in his father's voice. He was afraid that there was something supernatural there. Stiles didn't quiet know how, but he could tell that this was not something supernatural. It was pure, evil, human rage and insanity. A chill ran down his spine. The supernatural, he got. People are crazy.

Stiles couldn't move along the wall until he found the fist alleyway. He ducked his head into the alleyway. Nothing. Keeping a light, quick, pace, Stiles couldn't to move along the wall. He could hear Parrish coming his direction. He couldn't help but roll his eyes. He liked Parrish alright, but his powers couldn't help them now.

As Stiles moved closer to the next alley on the street - there were only two, from what he remembered - he smelled something. It was strong, bitter, and metallic. He'd know the scent anywhere. Blood.

Stiles began to run. He was wearing the mask, it's not like they would know it's him. (He didn't counter in the fact that he was wearing the same red plaid shirt and jeans at the Sheriff's Office.) He could hear his father's head swish to the side. "Did you hear that?"

Stiles turned into the next alleyway, following the scent of blood. Within the next few seconds - Stiles knew. Laying in the alley, was a wounded woman. Almost dead. She was wearing a white shirt that was soaked in blood. A bullet was lodged into her chest. Stiles ran over to her, dropping to his knees. Shit. Shit. Maybe he shouldn't have done this. Maybe he should've left his father to handle it.

The woman looked up at him with big brown eyes. There was mascara running down her face from tears. There was no way she could survive much longer.

Another tear slipped out of the woman's eyes. "Are you here to take me away?" Her voice was broke and shaky. Guilt wrenched at Stiles' heart. "Are you the devil?"

Stiles placed a hand on the side of woman's face, trying to be gentle and calm. He came here to be a hero. He wasn't a hero. But, maybe he could be someone's shoulder to cry on. Maybe he could be the one last face an innocent woman saw.

Tears welled in Stiles' eyes. "No... No..." he whispered. Then he realized he was still wearing the mask. His shaky hands fumbled for the mask, ripping it off. He placed it to his side, looking at the woman with sympathetic eyes. I shouldn't be here, he thought to himself.

"I'm here to help," Stiles whispered. Every bone in his body was nervous. He could hear Parrish walking towards him. He could feel the spiderwebs running through his veins. This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea.

Within the next few seconds, Parrish was in the alleyway with him. Click. "Hands up!"

Stiles huffed dramatically. He could practically feel the gun pointed at him. "Calm down! Calm down!" Stiles replied, turning around, his hands in the air. Parrish's eyes narrowed, and he lowered the gun. "Stiles? What the hell?"

Stiles opened his mouth to explain, when he suddenly heard something nearby.

Click.

It was a gun.

Stiles' eyes glanced down to the bullet in the woman's chest. "Shit," Stiles whispered. The gun didn't sound like the ones they used at the Beacon Hills Sheriff Station. It sounded... Different. Bigger. More powerful.

Stiles scrambled to his feet. "Parrish -"

"Stiles, what the hell -"

"Parrish. Get down." Stiles' voice was stern and commanding. He could smell the stench of the gun powder coming closer to them.

"Stiles, what are you talking -"

"Get down!"

Stiles launched towards Parrish, knocking him to the ground right as the killer shot the bullet. Bang! The bullet whizzed over their heads and launched into the brick wall. Parrish's head slammed into the side of the wall, knocking him out. Stiles sucks in a deep breath.

Now or never.

Stiles let out a spiderweb. It missed the killer - who was a man in his thirties - by a few inches. Shit. Stiles scrambled to his feet and went after the man. His father and Clark turned their heads and guns.

Without thinking, or even realizing Stiles was there, his father shot at the man. Clark joined in, and the man began to shoot at them. Stiles' heart was beating at a crazy fast beat. Mumbling a curse word under his breath, Stiles shot a spiderweb at the man, pressing his body against the wall. Stilinski's head snapped over to him, his hazel eyes wide.

"Stiles?"

He could hear the confusion and hurt in his father's voice. Stiles' heart sank. But, there was no time for an explanation. Stiles shot another spiderweb at the man, attaching his lower body to the wall. The man snapped his head up, looking at him with a crazy, murderous look in his eyes. "What the fuck?!"

Then, the man began to shoot. Stilinski, Clark, and the other deputy began to shoot, but, in a split, heartbreaking, terrifying moment, the man hit his mark.

Stiles' knees wobbled under him as his entire world fell apart. The other deputies were still shooting at the man - clearly shaken up - but still doing their job. All the strings inside Stiles' broke as his entire world fell apart around him.

The man had shot his father in the heart.

"Dad!" Stiles cried out, tears immediately falling out of his eyes. No, no, no. No! No!

Stiles ran over to his father, who had collapsed onto the sidewalk. He dropped down to his knees, tears falling from his eyes. Stilinski's hands went up to his heart, where the bullet was lodged. Stiles couldn't focus on anything else but his father.

Stiles placed his hands on Stilinski's adding to the pressure. He didn't know exactly what he was doing, but he was trying his hardest to stop the bleeding. "No, no, no," Stiles whimpered. "Dad, Dad, look at me. Look at me. You're not gonna go like this. No, no, no."

Stilinski used all the strength he could muster up to grab hold of his son's hand. When they looked into each other's eyes, Stiles couldn't help the sob that escaped his throat. "Don't. Dad, please. You're... You're gonna live."

There were tears in Stilinski's eyes and blood on both of their hands. No. Not like this.  God, please, not like this. I can't lose him too. I can't lose both of my parents.

Stilinski gently squeezed Stiles' hand. "I-I'm proud of you..."

Stiles let out another heartbreaking sob, ignoring the sounds of gunshots in the background. Nothing else in the world mattered.

"Dad, no. Don't... Don't act like these are your final words, alright?" His teardrops fell into the bloodied bullet wound on his chest. "I can't lose you, Dad. I can't lose both of my parents."

Stilinski gave Stiles a sad smile. "Stiles..."

He couldn't finish. In that one moment, Stiles' entire world stopped spinning. Everything slowly crumbled around him. "Dad..." He cried, his hands going up to his neck. There was no pulse.

"No, no, no, no, no," Stiles repeated the words under his breath and between sobs. "No! Dad!" Stiles' hands went to his face, trying to shake him back to life. "Dad! Dad!"

A sob escaped Stiles' mouth as he pressed his face into his father's stomach, holding his body. Stiles' entire body was shaking with sobs and his entire world was spinning out of proportion. He continued to keep his face in his father's stomach, soaking his clothes with his own tears. Stiles entire world crumbled apart as he held his father's body closer to him.

His father was gone.

---

This was really hard to write.

Alright, before any of you kill me, you've gotta understand that Stilinski's death was important to the plot. Stilinski is to Stiles was Uncle Ben was to Peter Parker. It's the motivation he needed to become Spider-Man.

Even though it was important to the plot, this was still so hard to write! I love Sheriff. He deserved to live a long, healthy, happy life with Melissa as his wife, Scott as his step-son, Lydia as his daughter-in-law, and, of course, Stiles as his son. But... That's not the way things work in Beacon Hills.

That aside, I'm sorry for not updating in forever! School's just starting I'm really stressed out. I don't know anyone at my new school, and my social anxiety is a bitch...

The next chapter will be shorter than usual, but I'll update it sooner. I promise.

- Holli