Fic: Guardians
Author: jonjokeat
Title: Guardians
Rating: pg-13
Pairing/s: Sterek
Character/s: Claudia Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles, Derek
Summary: John Stilinski has broken a promise to his wife
Warnings: some strong language, mention of canonical deaths
Content notes: John faces up to his failings due to a magical intervention
Submission Type: Fic
Word Count: 1931
Prompt: #123 Condition
Author's Notes: Another ficlet that turned into a fic but more surprisingly, I'm publishing it a whole day before the deadline. Yay me!
Neither Teen Wolf nor the characters belong to me, sadly.
It’s not that John knew nothing of werewolves and the supernatural when Stiles and the pack eventually got around to telling him. Although kanimas were a revelation he’d rather he’d never had; he’d never been fond of lizards.
In fact, though he prefered to forget it, he’d known for a long time that the Hales were werewolves and that his wife had been ‘talented’. That was the adjective that he and Claudia had settled on. He was a practical, down-to-earth sort of man and mention of magic always left him feeling ill at ease. So they’d come to a compromise: Claudia would not talk to him about her magic and he would not try to stop her practising it. He regretted it somewhat now, realising that he’d cut himself off from a huge part of what made Claudia, Claudia. He sometimes thought he could have helped his son and the Hale boy (and even Scott) much more had he not been so stubborn. But Claudia’s death had wrecked him; neither his God nor her magic had been able to save her and he shared his anger liberally between them and then drowned it in drink.
By the time he’d sobered up, he’d decided that he would keep his son away from both religion and the supernatural. He and Stiles would do very well without either. He’d stuck to his guns as long as he could and then given in only in increments, out of necessity.
But that day had finally broken the last of his resolve, or rather, he’d had to admit he’d be a fool not to give it up.
Before frontotemporal dementia had completely claimed Claudia’s mind they’d had a conversation. John had been loathe to engage on the subject but his wife had insisted. She wanted him to honour the pact that had been drawn up between her and Talia Hale. With Talia dead, and herself soon to be, Claudia made her husband promise that he would talk to Stiles. He’d stubbornly stuck to the addition of a condition before he’d vow to do as she wished, despite her calling him a mule and puritanical and much worse besides. He had promised and had meant to follow through, but he felt awkward about it and never quite found the right occasion. Then time and circumstance had taken their toll and he’d pretty much forgotten about it until a strongly worded letter had appeared on his desk at the house.
It was sitting on his desk when he’d got home from his shift, in a white envelope with his name on it, clearly spelt out in Claudia’s handwriting. The Sheriff had swallowed hard before opening it, knowing he was in for a roasting. He had broken his promise, not entirely but enough. He could argue that his condition meant he was still not obliged to talk to them but he knew he’d been negligent. Beacon Hills had been too long without Guardians. Now he thought about it, it was obvious. Stiles was just beginning to recover from the nogitsune’s possession and Derek was only just himself again after his kidnapping by the psychotic Argent woman. So many things had befallen the town and still neither of them yet knew their destiny.
The sheriff heard laughter coming from upstairs. Stiles was with Scott or possibly Derek, he surmised. Either way he may as well get it done.
“Stiles”, the sheriff called as he pushed his son’s bedroom door wide open, only to see him streak across the room and dive for the safety of his bedcovers.
“Dad”, Stiles whined, “Give a guy some warning!”
Ignoring Stiles, John greeted Derek, nodding at the second lump in the bed.
“It’s not what you think Dad and anyway I’m nearly legal,” Stiles protested.
“I’m not sure it matters,” the sheriff mumbled, moving back towards the stairs. “Be downstairs in five minutes, both of you, I have something I need to tell you.”
They sat in his office, John at the desk and Stiles and Derek on a couple of chairs they’d brought in from the kitchen. As Stiles was taking a large breath, presumably before he launched into a defense of his actions, the sheriff interrupted. “Save it Stiles,” and after a squawk from his son, “I think you’ll understand better after I’ve explained… er… something... to you both. But please try to stay quiet while I get this out. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it if you interrupt”.
“Your mother contacted me, Stiles,” John started.
“What! What? That makes absolutely no sense Dad,” his son couldn’t help interrupting.
“Well maybe that’s not the best place to start then.” He huffed and tried again, “You’re mother was talented, Stiles, she wasn’t entirely human. She was also very close to your mother, Derek.” He looked up at Derek and gave him a small, tight smile.
“You knew about werewolves!” Stiles exclaimed, “You knew.”
“Yes Stiles, I suppose I did but…”
“Why didn’t you take Derek and Laura in then, after the fire? You…”
“Stiles,” Derek stopped him, placing his hand on Stiles thigh, rubbing gently. “Laura was determined to leave Beacon Hills and your father had other things to worry about.”
“Yeah well… Mom… who’s apparently still alive.” Stiles looked at his dad, confused and questioning.
“I didn’t say…”
“You did...you said…”
“Stiles stop!” Derek intervened again, as both Stilinskis started raising their voices. “Let your father explain.”
The sheriff frowned and steadied his breath. “Before your mother died Stiles, she made me make a promise. I was stubborn and probably a bit bull-headed at the time.” Stiles snorted and got elbowed by Derek for it. “I blamed magic for her illness and wanted nothing to do with it, but she insisted. So on the condition I could wait until you were of age, I promised... with her proviso that if anything happened in the meantime, I’d explain sooner.”
He sat staring at his desk for a moment and then lifted the letter. “This was on my desk when I came home today. It is from your mother Stiles, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t mean she’s alive again. I know next to nothing about the capabilities of her magic but I assume it took some effort for her to manifest this here. It’s safe to say she’s very angry with me.”
John went quiet again staring at the letter and Stiles couldn’t hold back. “So come on. What’s the big secret Dad, what haven’t you told me?”
“Stiles”, John bit out sharply, but then made an effort to calm himself before explaining. “This is hard for me, I need to get it right, so please bear with me if it takes a bit of time. I will tell you everything and answer any questions you have but…”
“Try to keep quiet.” Stiles interjected, “I know...I’ll try.”
Looking up at both Derek and Stiles he started again. “As I said, your mothers were very close, best friends… practically sisters. They were also the Guardians of Beacon Hills. The Guardians, there are always two, protect the town. Have done for aeons, and try to maintain the balance of…”, he hesitated, “power, I suppose you’d call it… between… well, everyone, supernatural and human alike. They are also charged with keeping the town’s secrets… healthy. The telluric currents, the woods and the nemeton, for example. You’ll have noticed this is something of a unique place.” Smiling just slightly now, he continued.
“The position is not necessarily continuous, gaps between one set of Guardians and the next are not unusual. Traditionally they are a married couple but with the sudden and suspicious deaths of the last pair and the trouble caused by the cutting down of the nemeton, it was felt that your mothers should be the next holders of the role. The closeness of their relationship and their ability to work together effectively, being more important than an actual marriage certificate.” John sighed and took a deep breath.
“So you know who cut down the nemeton?” Stiles asked.
“No Son, I don’t. But we’ll get to that later… please.”
“Your mother knew fairly early on in her illness that it would be fatal, so she and Talia discussed and got agreement on who would be the next set of Guardians. I thought it was a bit presumptuous but no one had foreseen Talia’s death and so we thought there’d be time.”
Derek looked down at his feet and this time Stiles offered comfort, wrapping his arm around Derek’s back and squeezing his shoulder.
“I’m sorry to raise it, Son,” the sheriff looked apologetically at Derek, “but the fire made Claudia adamant that I must promise to tell you. That’s why she wrote the letter… why she’s so cross with me… because I neglected to tell you both… because the town needs it’s new Guardians, now.”
Derek looked up at the sheriff with something like fear in his eyes. “Am I to understand that we…”, he looked briefly at Stiles, “...are to be the next Guardians of Beacon Hills?”
Stiles jumped up, “What? Shit! Derek… Dad?” He glared at them, moving his focus from one man to the other, desperately trying to grasp the situation.
“Sit down Stiles! Calm down, I’ll try to explain. Claudia and Talia came from families that have taken on the role of Guardian many times over the centuries.”
“But Mom was Polish.”
“Her father was, yes, but her mother was from Beacon Hills. That’s why we settled here after we married. Claudia knew she had a responsibility to the town and I was lucky enough to get a position as a deputy here.”
“So why didn’t you tell me… us?” Stiles asked.
“I was so angry after your mother’s death Stiles, I was barely functioning. I was drinking far too much, working far too much… if it hadn’t been for Melissa… well, we owe her quite a lot, Stiles.” His son nodded in understanding, he knew Scott’s mom had practically brought him up.
“I didn’t want to think about magic and the supernatural, I didn’t want it to exist. I buried my head in police work and ignored it. Ignored you. It should have been obvious what sort of thing was going on when I eventually noticed you were lying to me more than usual. But somehow it was easier to think you were getting into drugs or drinking… normal human stuff, rather than accept that I needed to acknowledge the truth.”
The sheriff’s head dropped and he looked at his hands, twisting his fingers awkwardly. “I thought it was presumptuous all those years ago, partly because you were both so young but also because, well… who knew if you boys would like each other and the question of your sexuality... Oh hell Stiles, I didn’t even want to think about it. I guess that became a habit, I pushed it to the back of my mind for so long.”
He looked up from his hands to the letter, “Then this arrived and I knew I had to tell you, today, before I put it off again. That’s what I was thinking when I walked into your room earlier… that I had to tell you. So you see, you and Derek being… er… together, made it somewhat easier, despite my very valid reservations on the legal front.”
“So what happens now?” Derek asked.
“I’m not really sure Son, but… there’s so much more I need to tell you,” the sheriff explained, looking at his watch, “but first I think we better get dinner .”