Chapter 27: A Discovery To A New Story

Chapter Text

Trubel POV:

No pictures showed up in the initial search, just the death certificate.

I was curious as to who that was since I couldn't put a face to the name, but looking at Meisner's face, I assumed it was bad news.

"Who is that?" I asked; I was curious.

I had never heard of him before.

Meisner POV:

"An old friend," I said, feeling shocked.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing right now.

J ohn Stilinski was an old friend and member of the resistance from a long time ago.

When I joined, after losing my girlfriend to the royals, I ran into John on more than one occasion. He was a good man and had done a lot to keep the royals in check for many years before disappearing off the face of the earth for a very long time. I had thought he died a while ago but never saw a death certificate, so he assumed he could've been doing work elsewhere, but now that wasn't the case.

"Does he work for HW?" Trubel asked.

"No. He worked for the resistance against the royals. But I thought he retired or was working somewhere else. I hadn't seen him in years. But he died apparently." I responded sadly; it was a sad loss.

"But the certificate says he died a month ago; what was he doing all this time?" Trubel asked a critical question.

Where has he been? And what was he up to before dying? That was something worth checking into.

"Let's find out," I said while typing John Stilinski in the system and onto a search bar.

The system pulled up old jobs from the resistance that were documented, and Google pulled up a few photos from a police department's website and an article from a small town in California; the article read,

" We bring sad news to the people of Beacon County, and as a good cop and loved father, John Stilinski died Saturday from complications with his heart. Our support goes out to his son, who just entered high school; he now doesn't have a father, while Beacon Hills lost their beloved sheriff. It's a sad day for all residents who knew him~. "

"So he was a Sheriff. In California, different from being in the resistance, but I guess if you had a kid, probably best not to have them experience this life if you could avoid it." Trubel deduced.

"Yeah, it seems that way; let's look at these photos," I said, pulling up a photo of John dressed in his uniform and a few pictures from the funeral.

He had aged a lot since I last saw him. The wrinkled lines on his face and the tired but proud eyes showed me a different kind of man than the one I knew. There was not much information to gather from the funeral photos because he was a sheriff, and that meant a lot of people showed up. It was hard to distinguish family and friends from random everyday civilians. There was one photo of his son standing by the coffin, but you really couldn't see his face as his back was toward the camera lens. There were a few other photos that looked like they were trying to get the photo of the kid's face, but people kept blocking the shot.

I was curious as to who the kid was.

Did he know what kind of life his dad lived? Should he be told? Did John Stilinski raise his son to be like him, or was he just some ordinary kid alone in the world? That's what I wanted to find out. I felt like I owed him something.

It's been years since I last saw him, but he saved my life a few times, and it would feel like shit to know that after he died, his kid was abandoned and by himself when I knew something about it.

I put his last name into the system and waited for the results. It took not very long after, I searched the Beacon Hills County Sheriff's Office.

Luckily his son had a record.

It was technically sealed since he was still underage, but nothing is really sealed, especially when you're a secret government agency that nobody knows about having access to information that nobody should know about. Nothing was really a secret.

Before his picture came up, his record came up. And it was a weird record. A lot of weird coincidences that placed him at a bunch of crime scenes. But they were never deeply looked into; it looked like. It was definitely suspicious, considering how many crime scenes this kid "discovered."

There was also a lot of death that happened in this small California town. A lot of unsolved crimes, not even just recently but going back years. Something was definitely happening in this small town, but it just seems like nobody paid attention; it was almost like everything was covered up.

Was John Stilinski covering all of this up? What was so special about Beacon Hills that he decided to settle there? Just a bunch of questions with no answers, though. Without the man himself to explain himself and his son AWOL, there was literally no one to answer any of my questions.

Well, at first, I thought the son was in the wind because, according to a plane ticket, he had left California.

I was going to go look where he ended up until a photo popped up with his face on it, and I recognized that face.

"Oh hey, that's the kid we rescued. Small world." Trubel said.

After she said that, she quickly put his name into the system and started looking at social media accounts and trying to find a trace of the kid.

But all that was going through my mind was how odd it was to have found John's Stilinski kid in a Black Claw hideout tied to a chair. Why was he kidnapped in the first place? How long was he kidnapped? Was he in trouble or danger? But the real question was, where was he now?

The last time they saw him, he was walking back to a city from the warehouse, but they didn't really keep track from there on.

"Let's find him ASAP," I said, sitting down and joining Trubel in the research,

Stiles POV:

I was finally out of the Spice Shop.

After that little interrogation session, I went back to get my book bag and unlocked Daniel's place, and opened the trunk that my dad had left me. I thought I should start looking through some of the contents in there to see what exactly I had to work with in Portland. The contents were pretty normal, well, normal for a Grimm.

There were a few books, not like my mother's collection, but they were all written by my dad. I recognized his handwriting. It was like, well, it seemed, like a beginner's guide to being a Grimm. The explanations were very dumbed down, and all of the violence, like beheading and stabbing and killing wesen, was sugar-coated for children.

It's like my father spent time rewriting some of his Grimm books so that I could read them when I was much younger than I am now. I mean, considering all the stuff that happened in Beacon Hills and all the death, gore, and violence, sweetening up a beheading of wesen doesn't really mesh too well because I already know about all of that, hell I've experienced too much already.

Aside from the books, there were small daggers and a compact bow.

There were also little bottles that were labeled with very excessive labels. Especially the poisonous ones, it was labeled things like "DO NOT DRINK! VERY DANGEROUS." There were pictures of skulls and crossbones on it.

If this box was tailored for a much younger version of myself, it's like my dad prepared this years ago and only is now giving it to me. It's kind of sad and funny to think about at the same time.

But I don't really feel too much because my emotions are kind of haywire at the moment. I don't know if I should feel sad and depressed because my dad died or angry because he hid all these things from me or just overwhelmed because of all these things that are now coming to light about my past or at least my family's past.

The influx of so many emotions has just numbed me, and I'm just trying to get by the day as sanely as possible.

Eventually, I closed the box as I already had a ton of Grimm things. This box was just full of bare necessities or like an "in case of emergency" box or something to pass down to my children in the far, far, far future.

However, I feel like it would be more of a gimmick in the far future because I have plans to make being a Grimm a little bit easier.

I mean, I get it, tradition and all that jazz, you pass down tombs from your ancestors, and you read the books, and you write down your experiences, and you continue to tradition throughout your family, but why hasn't anyone thought of putting it online?

I mean, it could just be a shared personal file like Allison's family had. I mean, it would be so much easier to copy it all online rather than lugging around thousands of books. You could just have a USB in your pocket and have it all in there, or even simpler, make it a website and only allow Grims to enter the domain. You could have it password secured. Oh my God, all of the ideas coming into my head are something that I'm definitely going to get into in the future.

I'll need a bit of help with the technical side of things; I mean, Danny is just a phone call away. I feel like I have to do it, just thinking about transferring all of those books online is giving me a headache, but at least I'd be doing something for the greater good of the future, and I won't have to focus on annoying thoughts if I'm busy.

At least, that's what's keeping me going.

I eventually sighed and started to put everything back where I took it from and hid the chest in one of Daniel's closets. Until I get my own place, this will have to do.

I looked around his place, and it was a pretty nice setup, a bachelor pad but very homey.

I t fits Daniel from what I know about the guy. Which isn't much, to be honest, but he seems trustworthy. I mean, he helped me a few times and was literally there for me when everything with my d-dad went down.

Plus, he's letting me free-load in his home till I find my own space. I mean, even if he does do something stupid in the future, I feel like I'd help him anyway.

But that's just the person I am.

The Next Day, Outside the hospital

Stiles POV

I was waiting for Daniel. He was just finishing up signing his discharge papers. I was also on my phone looking up schools. Summer was almost up, and I had decided to live here, so I needed to find a high school in the area. I wasn't too concerned about it; any school would do for now. I just needed to get settled.

Honestly, I needed a school that wouldn't bother me too much for living on my own and wouldn't pry too much, but other than that, I couldn't care. I mean, I still want to be a cop, but all I'd need to do is go for a criminal justice degree in a good college. As long as my grades in high school are high, it doesn't matter too much which school I enroll in.

After waiting for about ten minutes, Daniel comes out with his arm in a sling carrying a bag with things he had with him in the hospital. I took the bag and hailed a taxi I saw in the distance.

The ride back to his apartment was short, and it was awkward for a few minutes until we both settled on the couch.

I started the conversation,

"So people rob bookstores?" I ask, generally confused.

Daniel laughs,

"No, not usually. But this wasn't about money or gang violence as they spread on the news. This is a Wesen problem. Which, as a Grimm, I guess you'd be interested in." Daniel reveals.

"So what does that exactly mean?" I ask.

"Well, simply put Wesen on Wesen violence. Remember those guys that came to my bookshop a while back, and they wanted me and you to do something with the police station? Originally before we became friends, I hated Grimms as much as the next wesen; I still don't particularly like them other than you, of course, but there is a group of very strong-willed wesen, who have made it their mission to disrupt the natural order of the world, and they want to take control over the regular people and have a wesen run world. It's a very large movement, and if you don't agree with them, this is what happens to you, you get shown a lesson, and you get made into a warning for others; that is, if you don't agree, you end up like me." Daniel said, pointing to his injured body parts.

"So this was a targeted attack made by a wesen run group of radicals?" I ask.

"Yup. Since I didn't hold up my end of the bargain by attacking the police station and kidnapping a Grimm, they beat me up and trashed my bookstore and then a few other shops of other Kehrseite-loving wesen. It's a big message to all wesen out there." Daniel says, sighing.

"Honestly, it doesn't really matter much at this point. I already am friends with you, and I doubt you'll join them, so it was better that I got beat up now rather than killed later." Daniel says, shrugging his one good shoulder.

I stayed quiet as this was a lot to take in.

I mean, I had a lot of things to think about now. Other than going to school and interning as a cop, I have to watch my back because there's a secret and dangerous radical group of wesen trying to destroy the world. Also, there is no possible way that Nick is going to let this slide or ignore this other group. Meaning that he's probably gonna get himself involved, which probably will eventually involve me. So since it's inevitable that I'm going to be involved in all this, since I am a Grimm, I might as well take the initiative to prepare myself.

Not that I want to get involved in fighting and killing others, but I should at least have a good chance for me to survive and not die.

"So what happened to you? I thought you were gonna call me when you got off the plane and not visit me in the hospital. I mean, how'd you know I was even there?" Daniel asked after the silence was too long.

"Oh yeah. I was kidnapped. I lost my phone. Well, rather, I should say it was broken into little pieces, but I still didn't have it, so I couldn't give you a ring." I say, missing the shock on Daniel's face.

"You said you got mugged, not kidnapped!" Daniel said, sitting forward.

"Well, I wasn't gonna say it in front of your roommate in the hospital. And it wasn't the worst experience I've had being kidnapped. I mean, I got rescued right away by some psychopaths, but still, I am here and alive, so I counted it as a win." I say.

As I think back about that time, I was kidnapped off the lacrosse field by Gerard and beaten the shit out of. Horrible, horrible times they were, and this situation was better.

"I don't even wanna know why you were kidnapped in the past, but why were you kidnapped this time? I mean, you couldn't have been in Portland for more than a few hours, right?" Daniel asked, confused.

"Well, now that I think about it, after what you told me just now, I was kidnapped by a group of wesen, and they did make me as a Grimm; so do you think it could be related to the wesen group that you were talking about earlier? I mean, wouldn't I be their prime target, being a Grimm, because Grimms protect the ordinary people who they are trying to gain control over?" I asked.

Daniel sits back again and scratches his head,

"Maybe…. it's possible. But this isn't good; they know you're a Grimm now."

"No, it's okay. Remember how I said I was saved by three psychopaths? They killed everyone who kidnapped me and everyone who was at the place I was brought to. I don't think they knew I was a Grimm because if they did, they wouldn't let me go, right? So they killed everyone who knew, and I gave them a name they couldn't track me by." I said, energetic-like.

Daniel looked confused.

"My name that I go by is Stiles. It's a nickname; it's not my real name. It's just that my real name is really, really hard to pronounce. It makes it easier for everyone if I just go by Stiles. And that's the name that I gave them, so they won't be able to find me. Also, now that I think about it, I think Nick, you know, the other Grimm; he said he knew one of them, so maybe they're good guys ." I say 'good guys' very hesitantly.

"This is giving me a headache," Daniel said what I was thinking.

"Same. Let's talk about something else and deal with all that tomorrow." I said, standing and opening Daniel's fridge, seeing it empty.

I frowned and looked at Daniel with disappointed eyes.

I was hungry. I hadn't eaten anything since earlier in the day yesterday.

Daniel stood up and rummaged around in one of his drawers, pulled out a take-out menu, and handed it to me, saying,

"I was in the hospital for three days. Give me a break."

"Oh, right. Then my treat!" I said excitedly as I pulled out my big envelope of cash.

"I'm rich," I said, laughing.

Daniel looked skeptical.

"I didn't steal it. Let's just say when I went back home and then when I decided to move out here. I realized I didn't need my house anymore. So I sold it, and now I have money. Also, after the funeral, I found out that my mom had left me money in a storage unit full of a bunch of Grimm stuff from my ancestors. A lot of stuff has happened this past week both back where I'm from and in Portland." I briefly explained as I picked up the take-out menu and started looking at what I was going to eat, and at this point, I could eat anything I was that hungry.

"You're treat then. But I have been meaning to ask, are you all right? You know, with the funeral and having to take care of everything." Daniel asked sincerely.

I frowned,

"It wasn't easy...…..but I'm okay. For now, I am okay. I still don't really understand why my dad died, nor why he pushed me away before he died, but at least he died normally and not because of some crazy freak accident or murder attempt. I can….I will move on eventually. I'm good." I said, giving a fake smile that clearly wasn't fooling anyone.

But Daniel read the room and moved on, saying that he was feeling like Indian food, and pulled out another take-out flier from the drawer.