All Sharp Like Fox Teeth: Volume Two – Chapter 1 – quicksylver28

Reading Time:
12 Minutes

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The sun was low on the horizon by the time they landed at Marine Base Alameda, setting the sky and clouds above ablaze in a stunning tapestry of deep oranges and purples. Tony took a tentative breath as he squinted against the light, guiding a sleepy Stiles off the plane with one hand steady on the boy’s shoulder; the other holding the old backpack and his own overnight duffel.

“It’s always in the freaking parking lots…” he huffed a low chuckle to himself as they got to the tarmac, taking a moment to appreciate the sheer majesty of the painted sunset unfurling along the network of runways sprawled before them. The air was warm and felt good to his lungs as he took another deeper breath, paying careful attention to the absence of the usual tightness in his chest. A small thrill ran through him as he steadied his breathing into a comfortable new rhythm, already itching to call Brad about it. This just further proved he’d made the right decision in following Stiles back to his home town.

Stiles snorted, blinking sleepy eyes up at the vibrant cloud structures. “Beacon Hills has, like, a million scenic look out points on the preserve and you never see anything like this from there. But pop in to the Kwik-i-mart for some turkey bacon on a Thursday evening and it’s like BAM… cathedral of light.”

“Cathedral of light.” Tony hummed and wrapped his arm around the teen’s too thin shoulders; gently steering him towards the FBI SUV parked on the tarmac. “… I like that. Poetic.”

A local FBI agent was waiting for them and introduced themselves as Agent Hargrove. A stocky Hispanic woman with an air of stoic competence that contrasted her average, almost boring, appearance with her MIB looking black suit, shoulder holster and slicked back trademark federal agent bun. She would be driving them the two hours to Beacon Hills where they would meet up with the locally assigned CPS officer, who would then supervise Stiles’ hand over to the sheriff. The jet would be hangered at the base overnight, the pilots bunked at the base, ready to take Mac back to Washington DC the next day.

Stiles rubbed absently at his sleep flushed face with the cuff of Tony’s OSU jacket. He’d fallen asleep in the bulky thing just after checking out the small bedroom on the plane; apparently having been more tired than any of them had expected and had basically been knocked out for the rest of the flight. Tony had been more than a bit concerned at the abrupt drop in energy but a brief chat with Doctor Singh back in DC had settled him. She had also warned Tony to look out for signs of lethargy, swift mood changes, panic, anxiety, irritability and restlessness.

Now that Stiles’ flight or fight response was no longer being triggered constantly as it had been through his stressful cross country journey; it would take some time for both his mind and body to settle back to what was considered his personal normal.
The teen would need a lot of rest and nutrition, especially in the coming days, even weeks; to get him back up to acceptable weight and health. Of course, they would also have to tackle his mental and emotional trauma as well. Just healing his physical self would not be enough.

Tony knew it that it was going to take time and he was prepared to give it all of his effort and patience. He’d already seen the tense wariness in Stiles whenever the subject of what had happened to him was even hinted at and Tony had long clocked the same stubbornness in the teen that he’d ruthlessly acknowledged in himself. It would take a fair bit of work to crack the hard shell the boy had already formed around the whole experience.

He really hoped that the sheriff would have more information that he could, and would, be willing to share on the killings that had wreaked havoc on the tiny town. He’d done some research on the flight, calling in a favour to get copies of the serial killer situation in Beacon Hills emailed to him and the somewhat scant information sent back was already putting up red flags.

Not only did the official police report have holes big enough to sail Gibbs’ basement boat through, but the tragic attempts as stitching them up were giving Tony hives. Granted, on the surface level, everything seemed … kind of… on the up and up but Tony had been in law enforcement for just about half his life at this point and he knew a patch job when he saw it.

From what he’d been able to put together… everyone seemed either happy enough to accept the Sheriff’s report at face value and found it satisfactory enough to sign off on… or they hadn’t deemed it important enough to read all the way through. Besides, what could really happen in a fly speck of a town in the middle of the fucking woods?

Apparently a whole goddamn lot if some of the older police reports he’d read up on the Beacon County database were to be believed.

If he didn’t know better, he would think that Beacon Hills was the new Sunnydale and there was a Hellmouth lurking somewhere in the deep forests of the preserve. And considering how many times Stiles’ name popped up in the paperwork, the boy was most likely already a Scooby.

Just the thought had him breathing hard and he’d had to make some tea and meditate to get his emotions in check and his mind settled. Though he itched to dig deeper into Beacon Hills and it’s crazy history, he would hold off until he at least spoke to Noah.

Besides, his main priority was Stiles and would remain that way, no matter what kind of shiny mysteries the town dangled in front of his corvid brain. He didn’t want to bring undo attention to the situation until he could understand it a bit better. The sheriff had already been in hot water a few times before and he didn’t want to be the catalyst for the man losing his job or even seeing jail time by bringing the full brunt of federal inspection.

He absently wondered what Aaron would think of the spat of killings that haunted the small town. It seemed like just the kind of thing that the BAU would be called in for and he wondered if they even been contacted. The final official report, as much as he could gather during the flight, had seemed to stall at the local FBI office and fell into oblivion apparently, signed off as acknowledged and neatly filed away to collect cobwebs with no one being the wiser.

That in itself was telling Tony things he really didn’t want to hear.

He didn’t want to have to be the one to eventually arrest his son’s other father for false reporting or even dereliction of duty now that he’d just found him again after almost twenty years. He would have to take it all step by step, stay calm and gather as much information as he could before making a decision. For Stiles’ sake alone.

The boy’s pale skin was still flushed and pillow creased, his thin jaw cracking with a yawn and he almost tripped on his own feet while clambering into the car. He looked so young and so utterly adorable as he blinked stupidly at the unfamiliar surroundings; his hands still gripping the thick fleece tight.

Tony smothered a grin as he nudged the boy into the back seat of the SUV and climbed in after him, settling them both and taking out a bottled water from the back pack. The teen made grabby hands at the drink and hummed in satisfaction as he drained half the bottle. He smiled and mumbled a soft thank you as Tony handed him a bag of homemade trail mix and the teen was soon tucked against Tony’s side, munching happily like a chipmuck as he snuggled into the oversized clothing.

“Snug as a bug in a rug.” Tony grinned, rubbing a hand through the boy’s wild hair as he pouted and mocked growled, his cheeks puffed up from trail mix and indignation. “You storing nuts for winter, kid?”

Stiles sputtering had him scrambling for the rest of the water as he began to choke and Tony had to pat him on the back comfortingly as he gasped and coughed. “Not cool, dude.”

“Sorry, kid.” Tony bit his lip so as not to laugh.

Hargrove got them through the security checkpoints with ease, showing an easy familiarity with the military personnel manning the base. Soon enough they were on the road to Beacon County, growing closer to ‘home’ with each passing minute. As the sun sank out of sight and the sky went that dizzying colour of twilight, Tony could feel Stiles tensing beside him. His slim leg started shaking against Tony’s thigh, his pale fingers twisting the empty plastic bag. He could feel the nervousness building in the boy, his flushed cheeks starting to lose their long fought for colour.

He gave the teen a nudge and spoke softly. “You wanna call and talk to your dad? Let him know that we’ve landed safely and on our way?”

Stiles stilled, his gaze distant as he mulled over the question. After about a minute of biting his lip hard enough to bruise and even harder leg shaking; he finally looked up at Tony with those anxious whiskey eyes. His mouth moving but no sound coming out.

Tony kept his voice low and steady. “Do you want me to call and talk to your dad for you?”

He got a relieved look and shaky nod at that.

He gave the teen an easy smile. “I’ll put it on speaker phone, ok?

Noah picked up at the first ring. “Stiles?”

Tony rolled his eyes at the teen in exasperation , glad to get soft huff from the boy in return. “No Sheriff, its Tony.”

“Ah. Very special agent Anthony DiNozzo.” Noah’s voice went low and Tony found himself blushing hot as Stiles stared at him, wide eyed and half scandalized. He could hear Mac’s chortle covered up by a quick cough coming from the front seat and even Hargrove was side eyeing him in the rearview mirror. He wanted to die right then and there.

“That’s former Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo to you, sheriff.” his voice was gruff. “…and you are on speaker phone.”

“Ah. I see.” Noah cleared his throat as Stiles stifled a giggle with both hands.

Tony sighed and manfully ignored the rest of the car’s occupants. “We were just calling to let you know that we’ve landed safe and sound and are on our way to you. We should be there in about an hour and forty minutes if traffic allows.

“Understood.” Noah was all business. “The CPS rep already did a home inspection and will be back to meet us when you get in.”

He paused, “… and Stiles?

Tony looked down at the boy who was staring longingly at the phone. “He’s here.”

“Son Number One….” Noah’s voice was soft and fond. “I can’t wait to get you home and in my arms again. I love you, Mischief Mine.”

“I love you too Daddy-O” Stiles’ reply was a bit thready and Tony squeezed his shoulder reassuringly as the teen wiped at his eyes with the jacket sleeve.

The conversation left Stiles much more settled, relaxing against Tony’s larger frame and chatting animatedly with Mac. Tony smiled at the interaction, glad to see the teen in a better mood. He knew that underneath that bright eyed look and smiling mouth as he volleyed back and forth with both female agents, having somehow having drawn Hargrove into the discussion; there was the same trepidation he was also feeling.

There was so much to unpack as they approached Beacon Hills. Noah was there. Waiting for them both and Tony knew, somehow, that despite uprooting his life and moving across the country to raise the surprise son that he’d conceived with a mystery couple years ago… that life was never going to be the same.

He wondered what he would say to Noah when he saw him in person after so long. He’d seen pictures of the man from social media posts and press conferences from the sheriff’s office and he was still as handsome as he’d been so many years ago in Las Vegas. He’d aged well but still showed the wear and worry of his position. Tony had also found an obituary for Claudia and he felt a pang of sorrow as she’d been such a firecracker. She’d certainly had both Tony and Noah eating out of her hands that weekend.

Stiles dozed off again and they let him rest. He would need the energy for the CPS visit later.

He let his mind wander, going over the list of things he’d have to do to settle into the small town proper. He’d already had people reaching out feelers into the town and had had an appointment with Mrs. Martin for some house showings. Mrs. Lydia’s Mom, as Stiles had called her, was a bit expensive but worth every penny in her efficiency. Her website showed her to be a stunning redhead beauty who passed on her looks to her daughter. He’d already gotten the low down on the ‘gorgeous, genius, dream girl’ and looked forward to meeting them both. They seemed like amazing women to know.

The welcome sign was a massive worn thing made from a solid piece of wood that looked old enough to have been carved when the town was first founded. It looked formidable at the end of a long stretch of forest road, the trees canopy drooping over the road on one side like fingers creeping over the edge of a table. It looked like the forbidden forest from Harry Potter and Tony shivered as he peered into the deep shadows that hung between the trees.

He shook Stiles awake they started seeing the lights from houses then unto the main street and the teen started a vocal tour as they passed local landmarks and interesting places. There were still a fair amount of people walking and laughing but most of the stores were already closed. Some even had papered windows and looked closed up. The Sheriff’s office flag was at half-mast when they passed it and made their way through to the suburbs where the Stilinski’s lived.

Noah’s cruiser was in the driveway along with a blue jeep with the top pulled up and secured. A wine coloured sedan was parked along the curb and Hargrove pulled up behind it. Both the sheriff and the CPS officer stepped out from the house and unto the porch,

Stiless’ knuckles were white as he gripped the door handle and the shaking leg was back so Tony put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“It’s going to be alright, Mimmo. You dad loves you. I love you and I’ve only known you less than a week. Go hug your pops before he jumps off that porch and comes over here. Go ahead, I’m right behind you.”

Then Stiles was out of the car with a cry, scrambling up the driveway and into his father’s arms, both of them hugging and crying as the rest of them clambered out to join them. Tony smiled at the father and son pair, something in his heart, warming and settling to see them clinging to each other.

He could tell that Noah really loved his son and was so grateful that Stiles had known that kind of paternal love since birth. That the kid had known that he was loved, unconditionally. Yes, his mom had died tragically early but he’d come to know how much she’d wanted him, how much she loved him… how much she would do for him. He was happy that his son had never doubted his parent’s love as a child like Tony had. Never been scared to be loud and messy and wild like all kids were. Never been cognizant of the conditions that love came with at a young age. Never had to earn it by being quiet or still or performing for guests.

He was happy that his kid had had the childhood he’d always dreamed of.

Yeah… that was priority right there. That was what was truly important.

To make sure that Stiles would always feel that way.

Everything else could wait.

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