Powerlessness is a state of being that Stiles is intimately familiar with. And yet this situation manages to make it worse, so much worse. Because usually it’s a case of him, a human, getting in over his head where the supernatural are concerned. But this? This is the kind of shit that his father deals with. If Fagin weren’t fae, it’d be sickeningly normal. That truth hurts him the most—that even when a scenario is closer to home, so to speak, he still can’t help.

“If things…ever get bad, I want you to know you can count on me.”

Stiles feels sick, saying as much. Count on him for what? What the hell could he do that Nancy couldn’t?

“I’m just… I’m here.”