A week goes past. During the week, Mitch settles into a schedule with a little difficulty at first. Assassin 101, being unpredictable and going to different places and not staying too long was always a must, but in his case he'd have to ignore his gut instincts that were telling him to go different places, not stay in this bar too long and do things differently each day. He had to fit in, and fitting in meant sticking to a schedule.
He did training with the pack each evening. Kicking their asses was always fun. Theo was put under his gun twice, after that he stopped showing up. Wise choice.
No one had really done anything then, it had been Theo's fault those times. Mocking Mitch or generally being a dick.
His friendship with Scott was still very tense. Surprisingly, it wasn't anger or hatred that fuelled it, but a deep misunderstanding of each other. Mitch knew this, he wasn't sure if Scott had worked it out yet.
Their personalities were just so different. When Mitch thought back to when they were best friends, it was honestly a miracle they hadn't clashed sooner. Both had incredibly different views on the world, how things should be and how to get there.
Scott just didn't understand him, and he didn't understand Scott, but sometimes when dealing with him, he felt like he was talking to a naive politician who thought just being nice to all countries would solve everything.
No...
That's why people like him existed.
Sometimes, in fact a lot of times, problems simple couldn't be solved by being good-hearted and pleasant.
Something Scott couldn't seem to grasp.
There's always a choice, always a different way, Scott would say.
No, no there isn't Mitch would reply.
And right there, really, was the heart of the issue between them.
Mitch was worried that kind of attitude would get Scott and the pack killed one day...
He never understood people like Scott, with those views on life. And he knew Scott didn't understand his views either.
It was a stalemate that both of them didn't know how to break.
You couldn't just understand someone when, well, you didn't understand them.
Mitch knew if Scott found out what his job was actually about, things between them would get worse.
At least at the moment, they could be civil to one another.
His father didn't understand this either, not getting why Mitch and Scott couldn't go back to being close friends.
"You sure you two don't want to talk to this out?" The Sheriff asked.
They were at his father's house, or his home? His ex home? He wasn't really sure what to call this house anymore.
Mitch was having lunch with him.
"That won't work" Mitch said, trying to spear his peas on his fork while talking to him. They kept on running away from him. He used to wonder as a kid if food could have minds of their own, but that was an odd but somehow terrifying thought when he was young. Could they be secretly screaming as they're boiled and roasted, then chomped on and torn apart?
His imagination could be a little disturbing.
"Because you think it won't or because you haven't tried it?" His father asked, calmly.
"Because I know it won't" Mitch sighed, leaning back, giving up on his peas. They wanted to escape, he'd let them go this time.
The thought was beyond familiar and made him shift a little uneasily as he looked into his dad's eyes.
It was strange.
Did all his father see was his grown up son?
Or could he see that he was housing and eating with a seasoned killer? An assassin? Could he guess that his son wasn't who he thought he was? That there was something different now in his eyes? In his body language?
Some people could just sense it. That something about someone wasn't quite right.
Mitch couldn't stand looking into his father's eyes too long after his thoughts spread through him uncomfortably.
He tried to explain.
"We're just too different. No matter how much you and Melissa want it. We'll never be the friends we used to be" Mitch said honestly.
The Sheriff let out a breath but didn't say anything more about it for a while, Mitch could see he disagreed though.
Finally, he spoke up as he looked at Mitch, catching his son's eyes, which seemed hard to do.
"You told me once you were scared to lose the pack" He said softly.
It did worry the Sheriff, that he couldn't read his son's expressions anymore, he knew instinctively looking at Stiles that this had triggered a reaction from him, but he couldn't see the reaction, he just knew it was there beneath the armor and the mask, even Stiles voice didn't sound strained as the Sheriff knew it should while Stiles replied plainly "I said a lot of things when I was younger"
"Mmm" His father said.
He picked up his own plate and Stiles's. Ready to wash up.
"You've eaten everything, glad to know you still have your appetite" He chuckled.
Mitch smiled at that, then his father frowned as he looked at his plate.
"You left your peas though" He said, just curious and making small talk.
Mitch shrugged but said with a strange smile that the Sheriff couldn't place, "I decided to let them go"
Something wasn't quite right about that smile.
But he didn't say anything.
Stiles was still his son, after all.
I'll reply to my last chapters comments later on and I hope you had a good day! Hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! Xx