Teen Wolf

Moja Droga

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.

Summary: When John Stilinski's father's boyhood friend Szczęsny and his daughter move to Beacon Hills, John finds himself drawn to Szczęsny's daughter Claudia.


Pronunciation Guide:

Szczęsny: SHCHENS-ni

Janusz: YAH-nuwsh


Krystian Stilinski was born in Warsaw in 1933. His father was a bank teller and his mother was a nurse and he had two older brothers and eventually had three younger sisters. The Stilinski family lived in an apartment over a general store owned by the family that lived above them whom they also rented their dwelling from. They were the Kumiega family, a nice young family of four. Mr. Kumiega's kept a tight ship at his store, but he always slipped Krystian and other children who visited the store often a piece of candy near the holidays. Mrs. Kumiega was a terrible gossip who could never keep her nose out of other people's business and had natural distrust for outsiders, though once she warmed to a person she was known to be fiercely protective of them like they were own family. The eldest Kumiega child Szczęsny was an adventurous boy with dreams of traveling the world and seeing all those great wonders and magnificent beasts all those books and movies talked about. He was Krystian's best friend growing up.

They had been together since the cradle when Krystian's mother gave birth around the same time Mrs. Kumiega gave birth to her first child and the two women got it into their heads that the two boys should be raised as close together as possible from there on out. The result had been a bond that not even the Second World War or the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean could break, because over twenty years after the friends parted ways in Potsdam, Krystian's son John was still hearing about how great Szczęsny was and all the whacky adventures he and Krystian went through together before life forced them to finally go their separate ways. For awhile, at least. As John discovered one summer's day, nothing could keep the two old friends apart for long.

"You will love him, Janusz." Krystian had gushed at the breakfast table after announcing that his old friend had sent him a letter announcing he and his daughter would be moving to Beacon Hills in a few months. John groaned at his father's words. "Dad, I'm happy for you and all, but I've told you a million times: call me John." He pleaded. Krystian rolled his eyes at his son. "Janusz is John." He defended. "In Polish, Dad. It's John in Polish, the language that no one can for the life of them pronounce properly without choking on their own tongue. We've talked about this." John protested. Krystian sighed at his son's griping, turning to his wife Barbara instead. "Isn't this wonderful, my beloved?" He asked her. Barbara smiled indulgently at her husband as she cut up the sausage on her plate. "Yes, sweetheart, it's fantastic. I can't wait to finally meet this friend of yours in person. I've only ever heard stories and seen letters these past twenty-two years." She sent John a sharp look across the table. "And Janusz is a wonderful name. If it wasn't do you think I would have let your father within ten feet of the birth certificate when you were born?" She reprimanded him sternly. John discreetly rolled his eyes as he returned to his eggs.

That had been two months ago and now John stood in front of a house with a "Sold" sign stuck in the yard along with his mother and father. They were patiently awaiting Szczęsny's arrival with the moving truck. John hadn't been all that excited in the weeks leading up to today, but at the moment, he was almost as keyed up as his mother to finally meet the man his father hadn't stopped talking about in his eighteen years of life.

He wondered how the young inspired man his father had described in many stories had turned out. When Krystian had last seen his friend face to face, they had been in their late twenties and still living together in Potsdam, Germany. John's father had decided to go to America, where the economy was thriving, while Szczęsny decided to finally live out his dream of traveling the world as a journalist. They had said their goodbyes at a local train station; Krystian was off to Berlin to take a plane to California and Szczęsny was taking a train to France, which he planned to tour for a travel magazine he'd recently became employed by. Since that day, the friends had only communicated by letters and a few phone calls when they could manage it. It had been twenty-six years since then and John knew many things had changed for both men.

Krystian, who had come to America with nothing, not even a friend within a thousand miles, had become a well-liked school teacher, was happily married, and was just a few years from what was set to be a peaceful retirement. From what John had heard, Szczęsny had traveled everywhere from the Mediterranean to the Far East to Australia to South America and Scandinavia before putting down roots for himself and his daughter in New York City for the last six years after realizing that a teenager needed a more stable lifestyle than what could be provided living in one country for six to eleven months at a time before moving on. John had asked his father why someone would want to leave New York City for Beacon Hills of all places; the reply he had gotten was that Szczęsny wanted to spend his retirement somewhere peaceful as well as within proximity of his oldest friend. John had to admit that wasn't a half-bad reason.

A red car turned the curb, a moving truck following close behind. John watched his father's face light up as the car grew closer and closer. The car pulled into the driveway of the house and a man in his fifties with silvery blond hair slowly climbed out the driver's seat while a girl about John's age with dark hair climbed out the passenger seat. Szczęsny beamed at Krystian and ran up to give his old friend a bear hug, a gesture his friend happily returned. For a moment, mutterings of Polish could be heard. When the two separated, they were still grinning. Both men waved their family members over.

"Szczęsny, my friend, this is my dear wife Barbara," Krystian began, gesturing to John's mother, who smiled broadly and stuck out a hand to Szczęsny, who shook it gladly.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet the person who stole my friend's heart by winning a county fair pie eating contest." Szczęsny said, grinning mischeivously. John looked at his mother with shock.

"You told me you and Dad met at a friend's housewarming party." He proclaimed accusingly. Blushing, Barbara gave her son a warning look.

"It was the sixties, I was young, heartbroken over a sleazebag, and trying to eat my problems away in place of popular drugs of the time I was too much of a wuss to try, and someone had the bright idea to dangle the prospect of free all-you-can-eat pie in front of me. Can you really blame me?" She fumed before taking a deep, solemn breath and calmly looking him straight in the eye. "I'm not proud of it, but it happened and because of it, a kindly stranger had to hold my hair back as I puked my guts out into a trashcan by the Tilt-a-Whirl and I ended up going on the Ferris wheel with that stranger and exchanging numbers with him afterwards. So all in all, sweetheart, I can't say really I regret it one bit." She said it as if it was the most serious thing in the world.

John blinked at his mother. "I'm just going to pretend I never heard any of that." He stated matter-of-factly, turning to Szczęsny, who was smirking at him and his mother.

"Hello, Mr. Kumiega, my name is John." He said, sticking his hand out to the man. Szczęsny shook his hand but raised an eyebrow.

"I was under the impression your name was Janusz." He remarked as he retracted his hand. John blushed.

"I prefer John, sir. People can actually pronounce it, you see." He explained. He didn't have to look to know his father rolled his eyes then. Szczęsny laughed.

"You sound like my daughter, though she complains about her middle name rather than her first." Szczęsny laughed. He gently put an arm around his daughter's shoulder, guiding her in front of him and before John and his parents. Krystian and Barbara smiled widely at her while John tried to keep his expression neutral upon realizing how pretty the girl was. He'd rather her first impression of him not include a slack jaw or red cheeks.

"This is my Claudia." Szczęsny introduced his daughter. Claudia stuck of her hand for them to shake. "It's nice to finally meet you all." She said smiling, dimples revealing themselves. One by one, each member of the Stilinski family shook Claudia's hand. Her hands were really soft, John couldn't help noticing.

With introductions done, Barbara invited Szczęsny and Claudia back to their house for lunch, though Szczęsny at first declined because he wanted to oversee the movers bringing the furniture and boxes into the house. Claudia volunteered to stay behind and do that for him. "You need to catch up with Uncle Krystian, Papa." She said. Szczęsny smiled fondly at his daughter. "Claudia, moja droga, you are such a good girl. Thank you." He cooed, cupping Claudia's right cheek affectionately and planting a kiss to her forehead. "Are you sure you don't want some lunch, moja droga? I don't want you going hungry." He whispered. Claudia nodded her head confidently. "I'm sure, Papa."

Szczęsny nodded and started walking down the sidewalk along with Krystian and Barbara to the Stilinski home down the block. Krystian looked back in confusion with John didn't follow. "I'm going to stay behind and help." John called to his father before he could ask. "Go on without me, I'm not hungry anyways." He added. Krystian puckered his lips at his son's words but then smiled and nodded and continued down the block with his wife and friend, an arm swung around each of their shoulders.

Claudia frowned at him distrustfully when their parents were out of earshot. "What's your angle?" She asked at once. John held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, you got me. My mom went to the library and found this old Polish recipe to make for you and your dad when you finally got here. I watched her make it this morning and stick it in the freezer for lunch. For the sake of my taste buds, I decided to hang out here with you. It's better than my first plan." He admitted, shrugging.

Claudia raised an eyebrow, smiling amusedly. "What was your first plan?" She asked curiously.

John smirked. "There's this potted plant next to my seat at the kitchen table that mom's constantly forgetting to water. I don't think anyone would care if it spontaneously withered up and died, don't you?" Claudia laughed into her right hand.

"You're funny." She chuckled. "Not what I was expecting. Papa always said Krystian was a bit of a stick in the mud unless you gave him a good prodding in the right direction."

"And the right direction would be a Nazi supply depot?" John asked sarcastically. Claudia balked at him.

"Your father told you that story too?" She asked, grinning. John nodded and Claudia burst out in a fit of hysterics. "Oh my God, I thought that was made up, but if you're father told you the same story, it must be true!" She exclaimed. Her grin broadened, eyes glinting with excitement. "Come on, let's exchange stories and see how much they match up just to be sure." She suggested eagerly.

Turned out the stories matched pretty much word for word, except for the part about who had the bright idea of sneaking into the depot to find food in the first place. John's father's story accused Szczęsny of coming up with the ridiculously stupid plan, while Claudia's father accused Krystian of being desperate to try anything at that point. Either way, in both stories the one who bravely graffiti-ed every Swastika in the depot was Szczęsny and the one who daringly set the fire to distract the guards as they made their escape with as much food as their skinny arms could carry was Krystian. Claudia and John had a good laugh as they discovered one by one that their father's stories had been truer than either had ever dared to believe growing up. This process somehow got them sitting on the roof of the house, overlooking the front yard and the movers as they hauled furniture and boxes inside.

"I can't believe everything was true." John breathed in disbelief as he finally stopped laughing from the last story he and Claudia compared only to find almost completely identical like all the others. "Yeah, Papa and Uncle Krystian, depending on how you look at it, were either the most awesome or stupidest kids on Earth. That many close calls and near misses would be uncalled for even by action movie standards." Claudia commented laughingly. Her smile fell then as if realizing something. "His other stories must have been true as well." She added sadly. John's smile fell as well; he knew what she meant.

John rarely ever heard a sad story from his father, mostly because Krystian knew that by the time his son was in high school he'd have a fair idea of what his life must have been like growing up in World War II-era Europe aside from all those funny stories about him and his best friend. The few sad stories he had heard from his father's lips weren't hard to believe really but a part of John simply didn't want them to be true. Like the story of how Krystian got separated from his parents and never saw them again afterwards or how his sisters got picked off one by one by fatigue and illness and starvation during the war. He guessed Claudia had heard similar stories about how Szczęsny lost his own parents and his little brother.

The movers finished bringing everything inside and then took off, leaving John and Claudia to do a little unpacking before heading over to John's house for dinner. They started by unpacking a few lamps for the living room and moving around the couch and recliner and TV stand into what Claudia deemed their proper positions. Then they made Claudia and her father's beds and put the essentials under the bathroom sink and in the linen closet. When finished, they finally locked up and set out down the street to the Stilinski home.

"So you're a year younger than me, right?" Claudia asked as they walked. John nodded.

"I just turned eighteen a few months ago."

"I turned nineteen in January." Claudia remarked. "You're father sent me a birthday card, ya know. He always has, ever since I was little, and when me and Papa moved to the States, he included a few dollar bills. My first pieces of America money, his card said. I still have them in a picture frame back in one of those boxes sitting in my room." She added.

"It must have been weird for you." John said casually. Claudia gave him a confused look. John felt his cheek heat up, realizing his mistake. "Settling down, I mean. You and your dad traveled all over the world, right? It must have been odd living in one place for so long after that."

Claudia smiled but shrugged noncommittally. "Not really. As a kid, it didn't seem like that short of a time. Like they say, time flies faster as you get older, so when you're a kid, everything sort of crawls at a snail's pace. Ten months in Tokyo felt like two years, three weeks Stockholm in felt like six months." She chuckled darkly. "Then again, that also made it kind of hard to leave some places, for both me and Papa. I think we both have a tendency to get too attached too quickly. We often left places with broken hearts. I'll admit my heart is still recovering from leaving India—I had so many great friends there and I loved the culture—and I have a feeling Papa's not quite over my mother, even after all these years."

Claudia laughed at how John went awkwardly quiet then.

"Don't make that face." She demanded laughingly. "I never met the woman in my life but from what I've heard about her, good riddance." Claudia said, rolling her eyes. John still didn't stop cringing at the sidewalk. Vedrana had never been spoken of in the Stilinski household with anything but contempt since he was born, John knew for a fact, though he supposed there had once been a brief time when his father spoke kindly over her, repeating the words in Szczęsny's letters to his then fiancé with admiration.

Vedrana had been Szczęsny's lover whom he had met during a brief stint in Italy under a pretty odd set of circumstances in John's opinion. A freak storm had suddenly besieged a small Italian city on the eastern coast without any warning, pelting the nearby orchards and fields with rain drops that felt like icy bullets while sky roared with thunder like Zeus had woken up cranky from a nap and immediately got in a bar fight with Thor. Szczęsny had been caught in the middle of it, having stopped briefly in the city on his way to Rome from Venice. He was sprinting from the bay back to his hotel when he came across a young woman simply walking through the storm, totally unperturbed by her surroundings as if she couldn't feel the rain or hear the thunder. Szczęsny had been taken the girl by the hand and dragged her under the awning of a nearby café where others were taking shelter and looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"What were you thinking? Do you want to catch your death?" He had apparently asked her, at least according to his letter about the while event. She had looked at him with sad blue eyes. "If you walk slowly, the less rain hits you than if you run." She answered simply, her voice devoid of all emotion. Szczęsny had taken her inside the café then and bought her a coffee, fearful for the young woman's state of mind. He introduced himself to her and even told her why he was in the city in the first place but it took almost an hour to get her to do the same. Her name was Vedrana Kasun and she was from Yugoslavia and she had arrived just that day in Italy after escaping the Eastern Bloc. She had asked him a peculiar question then.

"Do you know how to get to Spain from here?" Szczęsny had told her that the quickest way was probably to take a plane from Rome. She seemed unsettled by that. She then confessed she was afraid of flying and would rather go by boat or land. By coincidence, Szczęsny planned to travel to Nice from Rome which wasn't really that far from Spain. He told Vedrana that if she came to Rome with him, he'd gladly help her through the plane ride and see her from Nice to the border of Spain. Vedrana had agreed and the two planned to meet each other in front of the local train station the next day.

Apparently Szczęsny hadn't expected her to really show up, but she did, and with no more luggage than a backpack. They boarded the train together that day and traveled to Rome, where Szczęsny covered the recent elections for the political magazine he worked for. They stayed there for two weeks, staying in side by side hotel rooms and sharing all their meals together. It was the beginning of a fine friendship. Szczęsny learned that Vedrana's immediate family had all recently passed away and that she was heading to Spain to find her distant cousins. Szczęsny had sympathized with the girl's plight. After the war, he and John's father had also sought out surviving family members by sending letters to old neighbors and officials in Warsaw, asking about their aunts, uncles, cousins, and so forth but in the end they found no one except for a few surviving older cousins who became trapped behind the Iron Curtain.

They didn't leave Rome by plane like they originally planned. Another freak storm occurred and all flights were delayed or canceled for days with no sign as to when the stormy weather would pass and flights would be clear to fly again. Since Szczęsny was running on a schedule, he decided he and Vedrana should just take a train. It took a couple days and a few transfers, but they did eventually make it to Nice, where Szczęsny did an article on the city's up-and-coming politicians, which took a few weeks. During their stay in Nice, Szczęsny and Vedrana's relationship really seemed take off and by the time they arrived on the border of Spain, Szczęsny was "in love". He ended up, despite all previous plans, escorting Vedrana farther than the Spanish border and all the way to the Strait of Gibraltar. They had searched the entire country for Vedrana's cousins and their investigation finally led them to a small town near the sea. By the time they got there, Vedrana was pregnant with Claudia.

Szczęsny stayed with Vedrana and her cousins for a little over a year, raising Claudia—a popular name in Spain they had both grown fond of during their travels—together with the help of her family. However, when Szczęsny asked Vedrana to marry him nearly a year and a half, she refused and gave no explanation why. Then she and her cousins put Szczęsny out and told him to go on with his life. Szczęsny refused to leave his daughter, so Vedrana gave Claudia to him, and neither Szczęsny nor Claudia had seen or heard from her since.

"You're dad sent me birthday cards, too." John said, hoping to lighten the mood.

Claudia smirked at him. "Let me guess: they were all in Polish and you hardly could understand a word." She replied dryly.

John nodded bashfully. Claudia gave his shoulder a light shove. "Don't be embarrassed. My Polish isn't that great either. Passable, but not nearly as good as it should be considering Papa is a native speaker and all. My English is better actually—though it hasn't always been. When I first came to the States, people at school made fun of me." She cringed, most likely remembering the jokes and bad imitations.

"I bet your English wasn't that bad. Besides, you probably speak like ten languages while those kids could probably hardly speak one. Don't let some stupid assholes get you down." John assured her. Claudia seemed touched.

"Awww, Janusz," She cooed. "What bad family sitcom did you steal that off of?" She asked and then burst out laughing.

John rolled his eyes at her. "If that's the reaction I'm going to get every time I try and act nice maybe I should just call it quits now on being friends with you and go over to my friend Patrick's house and marathon scary movies like he asked me to." He complained. "And don't call me Janusz—it's John!" He tacked on.

Claudia stopped in the sidewalk and smirked at him. "What will you do if I do, Janusz?" She asked tauntingly.

John met her eyes with his own narrowed ones and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll find out what your middle name is and never ever, until the end of all time and space, let you live it down." He threatened.

Claudia's eyes went wide briefly before narrowing dangerously.

"Bring it on, Janusz."

The two leveled each other with scowls, daring the other to make a move, before John bolted down the sidewalk and cut across his lawn diagonally up the front steps of his house. "Mr. Kumiega!" John shouted, ripping open his front door and storming inside the house, Claudia chasing after him, screaming the Wolf Man would get elected president before she let John know her middle name.


A/N: I had a plot bunny hopping around my head so I decided to just roll with it.

Moja Droga translates as the feminine version of "My Dear"

I hope you liked it. Please review!