JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, have no idea what Stiles' real name is, I'm going along with what everyone else puts, I also make up his full name and I'm guessing his dad's name.

Please review XD

Things that are bold, underlined and in italics are things that Stile's writes - apart from the dates.

Stiles

"STILES! JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Yeah... That was something I heard pretty much every day. I mean, sure, I talked a lot, but that was my ADHD's fault. And that's not even a lie, it's the truth! ADHD mainly hyperactive-impulsive – which was the subtype I had – meant: I was unable to sit still, especially in calm or quiet surroundings; I was constantly fidgeting; I was unable to settle to tasks; I had excessive physical movement; I talked excessively; I was unable to wait for a turn – though this was the only one I didn't have –; I acted without thinking; I interrupted conversations; had little or no sense of danger. This was me and I was proud of who I was! So, you see, it wasn't my fault that I talked so much; it was my ADHD's fault.

My mom always told me that I should never change for anyone. That if they couldn't accept me for whom I was they weren't a real friend. When I was a kid, even when she was ill, she would always tell me that I was 'perfect; mommy's perfect little man'. My mom was the only one that really put up with all my craziness before I was diagnosed, but she always said that she didn't care; that it was part of who I was and she loved everything about me, good or bad, no matter what anyone else thought. She was an amazing woman, and I missed her every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week, of every month of every year. She was the only one who understood me, who made me feel like I could really be myself. I mean, sure, dad was great when it came to issues concerning bullies or things like that, things that involved me getting discouraged because I was different from everyone else. He was great, amazing! Best dad in the world! But there was just something about mom that made everything so much better.

I missed my mom...

It was just a normal Thursday – May 31st 2012, the start of summer vacation! – late morning. The whole Pack was gathering at Derek's, since the old Hale house had now been rebuilt and stuff. I was late, again. But it was fine, we were spending a couple of days there, and I was always the last to leave, much to Isaac's delight – Isaac, Erica and Boyd lived with Derek in the house, ever since he became their legal guardian.

So, yeah, I pulled up in my Jeep – my baby, she was awesome, no matter what anyone said about her – outside of the house. After I switched off the ignition, I grabbed my bag before jogging towards the door, letting myself in. I placed my bag with the others – by the stairs –, heading towards the living room. I was standing in the doorway, about to walk in and make myself known when I heard something interesting...

"He talks way too much!" I heard Danny say.

"I know we're his friends, but it does get annoying." Allison added, sounding a bit bad.

"Even I admit it gets a bit much." Scott mumbled.

"He needs to lose his voice." Boyd muttered.

"I know, right?!" Erica sighed. "I do like Stiles, but God he needs to shut up!"

Wait, what?!

"He's not that bad." at least Isaac was on my side.

"Of course you would say that, you're his favourite." Lydia told him, sounding bored. "But I agree, he needs to learn to shut up."

"I really wish he would shut up for, at least, twenty four hours." Jackson huffed.

"Same here." they all agreed.

I had no idea what it was that tipped them off but, all of a sudden, everyone – including Derek, who was sitting in his usual armchair – looked over to the doorway. Where I was. All of them with matching guilty, scared and upset expressions. I frowned the tiniest bit, trying not to let what they all said affect me. But it made me stop and think. I mean, if they had started talking about me like his while I wasn't here, what do they say about me every other time? It made me wonder why my supposed friends talked like this, behind my back, the only two not joining in being Isaac – because he was adorable, and was my favourite, I don't care if he was dating Danny, he still was, so there! – and Derek – broody Sourwolf didn't bitch behind your back, he told you to your face if he had a problem with you. But even so, Isaac and Derek had the same expressions as everyone else when they saw me.

"Oh." was all I said, the short two letter word even sounding broken and hurt to me!

Not knowing what else to do, I just turned away and walked towards the door, walking back outside. I didn't really understand why I was getting upset about this; I mean I got told to be quiet everyday by everyone! But then these were my friends...

I made my way towards my Jeep, thinking I would sit in there for a bit, try and stop to unnecessary tears that had made an appearance. I was only halfway there when I heard it. A sort of crackling, almost like fire, and a slight change in the air around me. I felt a presence behind me, not good. Swallowing harshly, I turned around slowly, praying it was just one of my friends. Nope, not at all. Instead a woman, around the age of twenty I would say, was standing in front of me. She was tanned, long black hair, completely white eyes while her pupils were a greyish colour, tall, skinny and very attractive. I mean, just because I had a sort of crush – ok a definite massive crush – on Derek doesn't mean I could appreciate her looks.

"Oh, poor baby." She sighed, frowning slightly, not sounding patronising or sarcastic in any way, but genuinely sincere, her voice soft and sickly sweet. "They don't know what they have, Stiles. They don't realise just how important you are. I could help you know. Make them realise."

I took a step back at that. Not only was she a stranger, but she popped out of nowhere and was now saying she was going to make my friends 'realise how important' I was. If that didn't scream psycho, I didn't know what did! I didn't get far, however. It was at that moment that everyone came rushing out of the house; that moment that the woman rushed forward with inhuman speed, touching the palm of her hand to my forehead, muttering something under her breath. She disappeared in a wisp of smoke, ending with a small spark. Just...poof. I stood there, wide eyed, leaning against the side of my Jeep in shock. What had that bitch done to me?!

"Stiles!" Scott yelled, running over. "You ok, man?!"

I opened my mouth to tell him I was fine... But nothing came out of my mouth.

"Dude, come on, we didn't mean it!" Scott protested. "Just tell me if you're ok!"

I tried again, tried to speak. But still, no words came out of my mouth. Cue panic attack! My breathing quickened as I looked around at everyone, panicked and scared shitless! I mean, what the actual Hell?! They all caught scent of the fact that I in fact couldn't talk pretty quickly then, before realising quite quickly after that I was having a real panic attack. Scott was the only one that actually knew how to deal with one of my panic attacks, having witnessed them so many times before. It was as if this still happened every day the way my best friend just jumped in, getting me to sit on the ground and try to calm me down.

When back in the house, I sat there on one of the couches, curled up into as tight and small a ball as I could, burying my head into my knees, my arms wrapped around my legs. I didn't like this. Not one bit. Talking was one of the ways that I could stop thinking, letting anything just roll out of my mouth. When I was alone or lost my voice...that's when I retreated inside my head, all of the depressing thoughts coming to the forefront of my mind. All the thoughts that I didn't want to have, that I always tried so hard to avoid! But I was screwed now. Right now, I just wanted my mom. I needed my mom.

I sighed, pressing myself deeper into the corner of the couch I was curled up in. Today, I had decided, sucked. It was a sucky day! A sucky, sucky day!

Even though I couldn't say anything, I could still make sounds. At least that way I would be able to convey to the humans of our Pack what I was feeling if I was still hiding my face in the couch. I didn't need to lift my head up to know where everyone was – Boyd and Erica on one couch; Jackson, Lydia and Allison on the other; Isaac next to me with Danny on the other side of him; Derek and Scott standing just outside of the living room, talking in hushed whispers, trying to figure out what the hell was going on and how to go about fixing it. What they didn't realise was, even though they were werewolves, they sucked at whispering! Scott had started bitching about what happened, Derek said if they weren't talking like that then I wouldn't have gone outside, blah, blah, blah. At the moment they seemed more focused on playing the blame game. Honestly, it was almost as if I was the only mature one – and that was saying something!

That was when I heard it, that same soft and sickly sweet voice. She's inside my head! I lifted my head out of the corner of the couch quickly, almost falling off in the process, looking round to see if the others could hear her. But they were only looking at me, concerned. My eyes were wide as she spoke to me. Why me?!

"Stiles?" Allison asked, worried, as Derek and Scott walked in. "You ok?"

I didn't bother answering, just looking around, looking for something. When I couldn't find it I made an exasperated noise, running into the hallway to my bag. Pulling out a notebook and one of the black marker pens I had with me, I walked back into the living room.

I wrote: Did any of you hear her just now?

"Hear who?" Scott asked.

That woman... That witch person, whoever she was!

They all shook their heads, saying no. Great, so just me she decided to invade the mind of. I groaned, falling back into the space I had left just moments earlier.

"Stiles, what did she say?" Derek growled – I didn't know if it was aimed at me or the witch...

I sighed before I took the lid off of the pen, flipping to a new page and turning the pad of paper landscape.

She said: 'Now too late for apologies, no time for thank you or for please. The voice is gone of the one you need, taken for granted with such ease. To bring back what has been lost to him and to make his life less grim, learn the lesson that you must be taught and the youngest voice you will restore.'

"Well... She sure likes to rhyme." Jackson commented.

Taking out the first bit of paper I had written on that day, I screwed it up, chucking it at Jackson's head. I just loved the fact he didn't see it coming.

"What the Hell does she even mean?" Scott asked.

"Basically that we use Stiles, don't give him enough credit and take his voice for granted when it's helped us so much." Lydia sighed. "That's why she took it away. We have to see how hard it is to put up with not having Stiles' voice."

"That doesn't sound like a punishment." Jackson muttered.

He really didn't expect Scott to attack him then. Normally, I would have loved to see a fight like this between Scott and Jackson – it was always fun, shut up –, but today I really wasn't feeling it. Derek had enough sense to stop it as soon as it started though, going on about how fighting and making comments such as Jackson wasn't helping; how those comments got us where we were now.

This was going to take a while.

I ripped out the page that had what the witch had said to me on it, placing it on a table near the middle of the room. It was then decided that if I needed to talk to anyone, or the witch spoke to me again, I would have to use the notepad – it was as if they thought I was too stupid to figure that out myself. They must have got that from the way I looked at them after they said it, or maybe the wolves smelled my irritation or something, but they all looked a little sheepish after that comment. Derek was now sitting in his arm chair with Scott sitting in front of Allison, as the first Harry Potter was playing. Not that anyone was really watching it; they were too busy discussing the witch and what she had told me. It annoyed me that I couldn't talk and just hearing them talking about me, as if I wasn't sitting right there. I wondered if it really mattered whether I was there or not. Not like they would really notice at this point.

Sighing softly, I stood up from my seat, going to grab a drink from the kitchen. That was where I stayed, in the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen table. The notepad lay in front of me on the table, marker lying beside it. I just stared at it as I took a long gulp from the soda can I had grabbed from the fridge just moments ago. I sagged back in the chair; it was always me who found a way to make things worse, to ruin everything. I could even ruin something before it had actually happened. I was basically the outcast of this group, the one on the outside, just like I had always been.

"Oh, please!" that soft and sickly sweet voice said, inside my head. "You really believe that?! Oh, you poor soul. Don't worry, after my little...intervention, that should fix every doubt and worry you have."

I swear, if I didn't know about all the supernatural shit that this town attracted, or that a witch was the one that stole my voice – come on, she was so a witch – I would have thought I was going crazy!

"Come on, Stiles." she continued. "Don't you want them to finally accept it? Like your mom accepted it. Hell, she even encouraged you to talk so much! Don't you want that again, Stiles?"

I was not going to cry. I was not going to cry. Just because some bitch that stole my voice brought up my mom, didn't mean I was going to cry. Oh, who was I kidding? I was going to cry! Like I said: a sucky, sucky day!

Now she brought her up, I really needed to see my mom now. Hear her voice. I quickly uncapped the marker pen, and wrote a small note, ripping the page out of my notebook, before leaving it on the table. I grabbed the notebook and pen before making my way into the hallway to put my shoes on, then steeping outside and heading to my Jeep.

Thank God my dad was out of town.

I was only gone for, about, fifteen minutes. Not long at all. Well, I didn't think so anyway. I had just jumped out of my Jeep and about to turn around, and grab a bag I brought from home – which was where I went –, when I was jumped on and being turned into a Stiles-pancake. My eyes snapped shut and I could feel the rise in my heart beat. I honestly thought I was going to die. I mean, come on, you don't know what's hanging around a werewolves home, especially in Beacon Hills! But whatever it was it was hugging me, arms around my neck. Hugging... Hugging... What?

Slowly, my eyes opened. All I saw was a mass of slightly-curly blondie-brown hair, and felt a face rubbing into my neck. Isaac. Still a little hesitant with such affectionate wolves, I slowly returned the hug, patting the guy's back a little. It was weird to me, ok; they were all older than me! I was youngest, since my birthday was August 26th! Sure, Isaac was only a couple of months older than me, being the second youngest, but I was still younger! I sighed a little when Isaac kept hugging me, but it helped to calm me down – since I now knew who it was.

"We thought she got you." Isaac muttered. "Where were you?"

I leant back slightly, until Isaac got the message and let me go. Turning back around to my Jeep, I grabbed the notebook and the marker pen I had taken with me and the bag I had brought. I flipped to a clean page, turning the book around once I had written my answer.

I went back to my place. Had to go grab something I forgot. I left a note for you guys, telling you where I was.

"You did?" Isaac asked.

Yeah, it was on the kitchen table.

"You could have said something."

Sorry, man. Didn't think anyone would notice.

"Of course we would notice!"

Ok, ok! I'm sorry, Pup. I'll let you know next time. Promise.

Isaac smiled slightly, nodding, before grabbing my arm and dragging me towards the house. I sighed, not bothering to put up a fight. Isaac would just use the puppy dog eyes, which got me every time, so it was easier to just give in straight away.

"Has she said anything else to you?" Isaac asked, hesitantly, his voice quiet, sounding so much like a little kid.

I shook my head, looking down at the grass and biting my lip. It wasn't technically a lie. I mean, she hadn't said anything that would help at all. None of them needed to know about anything else she told me, only what they needed to know. Well, that was what I had decided. I would only tell them what they needed to. Seemed fair to me.

I ended up getting it in the neck from Scott for leaving. I showed them what I had told Isaac, about leaving a note on the kitchen table. They all went into the kitchen, checking to see if I was actually telling the truth. They all seemed rather sheepish when they walked back in. I shook my head, rolling my eyes as I flopped backwards onto the couch behind me. I still had the bag that I brought from home with me... Honestly, considering what was in there, I didn't want to let it go. It was too precious to me. Slowly, everyone else drifted to their seats, Scott sitting on the floor in front of Allison.

No one said anything else really. We just ended up putting on DVDs and watching them for a few hours, before Derek ordered pizza. Barely anything was said for, almost, nine hours – bringing the time to half eleven.

One by one, everyone started to drift away, upstairs, and soon I was the only one left in the living room. Even Derek left before me. It was only when I knew the last person was upstairs and shut behind a door that I opened the bag that was still sitting beside me. I took out my laptop and a disc that was in a little compartment. I waited until my laptop had loaded up before I placed the disc into the dive. I hesitated before pressing play. But taking a breath, I hit the enter button, leaning back into the couch and crossing my arms, watching the first scene on the disc play out.

August 26th 1995 – Claudia Stilinski's POV

"Say hi, honey." John chuckled, pointing the camera at me.

I looked up from where I was watching our son, grinning at John. He had insisted that we record this moment.

"John, please. I look dreadful; get that camera away from me." I laughed, looking back to our beautiful baby boy.

"Oh, come on, Claudie." John persisted, not able to stop smiling. "We need to save this moment. You never know, he might want to watch this when he's older."

"I hope not."

The baby in my arms moved in his sleep, his tiny hand clenching softly in the air, before unfolding. He was perfect. My perfect little boy. Just perfect. Carefully, trying not to wake him, I pressed my lips to his little forehead. He was just so tiny! It amazed me at how tiny he was, fitting perfectly in the space between my hand and elbow.

"We still need a name for this little guy." John mused, softly. "Still want to use..."

"I do." I interrupted. "Do you?"

"Of course, honey. Kind of suits him, huh?"

"It really does. Genim Alexander Stilinski. Perfect. Just like him."

May 31st 1996 – John Stilinski's POV

"Come on, Genim. Walk to mommy." Claudia called, gently, from one side of the living room.

Genim was already nine months and five days old. Time had gone by so fast. Claudia and I had wondered where time had gone from when we brought him home till now. I remembered when Claudia first told me she was pregnant. I was so excited – I was going to be a dad! And now, here he was. My son. Claudia was amazing with him, she had taken to motherhood like breathing, it came so naturally to her. It was harder for me to get into the role of 'dad', but as time went on it was getting easier. I hated going to work in the morning, always wanting to be at home with the pair of them, but somehow I managed to drag myself away and head to the station, looking forward to when I could come home. It was always days like these – my days off – that I looked forward to the most.

"Come on, walk to mommy." Claudia smiled.

Genim looked up at her from across the room, grinning when he saw her. Yeah, he was a mommy's boy, definitely. Our son started to crawl over, but as that started to slow, we notice he was starting to stand up. Claudia and I watched, anxiously, hoping that today would be the day; the day that our son took his first steps.

Genim, wobbly, got to his feet, holding onto the coffee table he was near, standing side on to Claudia. He was still grinning, giggling slightly. Shakily, he stepped closer. This continued slowly until he reached the end of the table. Claudia and I were already grinning that he had made it this far, but this was the moment of truth. Genim looked from the coffee table, then over to Claudia. His smile widening, he let go of the table before running over to his mom, collapsing into her arms. Claudia and I grinned madly, her dark brown eyes shining with tears of joy.

"He did it! John, he did it!" Claudia gushed, kissing our giggling son. "Oh, Genim! Well done, baby."

Where was the time going?

June 26th 1998 – Claudia Stilinski's POV

Genim was now two years and ten months old. He had already started to talk, just babbling away, bless him. Genim loved to talk. Once you got him started, you couldn't stop him. And I encourage that. I loved hearing what he had to say, and he didn't have to be ashamed because he loved to talk so much.

Even Scott McCall, his best friend and son of my friend Melissa, said that he talked a lot. Scott couldn't actually pronounce Genim's name, so they came up with the nickname 'Stiles'. I was really the only one that called him Genim anymore, but that was fine by me.

"Mommy, mommy!" a small voice yelled.

Genim came running into the kitchen, jumping. I was just in time to catch the giggling boy, spinning him around, before placing him on my hip, my arms wrapped tight around him.

"Look who I found!" he grinned, proud of himself as he showed me what was in his hands.

For his second birthday, I had bought him a stuffed black wolf-cub cuddly toy. He loved it, took it everywhere he went. When he had lost it a few weeks ago, he was so upset that John and I didn't know what to do. In the end I had told him that Wolfy – the name he gave it – had gone on an adventure and would be back really soon. He brightened up after that, saying he wanted to go on an adventure to, running into the garden.

"Wolfy's back!" I gasped, pretending to be excited for him, it always warmed my heart o see him like this. "Where was he, baby?"

"Under my bed." Genim giggled, speaking a mile a minute. "He was playing hide and seek after his 'venture."

"Silly, Wolfy. Hey, how about I make some lunch and we can eat outside today? Would you and Wolfy like that?"

"Yeah! Outside, outside, outside!"

"Ok, go get the picnic blanket and put it outside ok?"

Genim nodded vigorously. As soon as I placed him back on the floor he was running through the house as fast as his little legs could carry him. I just grinned, laughing, at my baby boy.

I never knew John had left the video camera running.

September 1st 1995 – Stiles' POV

"Do I have to?" I asked, as mommy pulled my t-shirt over my head and daddy was filming.

"Yes, baby. You have to." she smiled warmly. "Scott's going too, so you can play with him."

I liked my mommy's smile. Mommy's smile was nice, it made me smile too. I loved my mommy and she loved me. But I didn't want to go to Kindergarten. I wanted to stay at home with mommy and play.

"But... But..." I started.

"Stiles, mommy and I have told you." daddy said. "You're a big boy now. And big boy's go o Kindergarten, remember?"

"I don't wanna be a big boy!"

Mommy and daddy told me to try not to get angry. But it was hard. I couldn't help it. Sometimes I just got angry and my head got all funny. I didn't like it. Mommy looked on the computer and said that we would go see the doctor soon. I didn't want to go. The doctors scared me.

"Why don't you want to be a big boy?" daddy asked, as mommy held my hands.

"'Cause then I not be baby 'nymore." I said, quietly.

"Oh, Genim. You will always be my baby. You will always be daddy's baby. Ok? Nothing can stop you from being our baby."

Mommy hugged me. I liked mommy's hugs. They were warm and safe.

"Promise?" I whispered.

"We promise, baby." she whispered back. "Now come on, let's get you to school."

August 28th 2002 – Claudia Stilinski's POV

John filmed seven year old Genim in our garden.He was wearing a black and yellow Batman t-shirt and denim shorts, his hair was thick and spiked up slightly. He was sitting on a swing, gripping to the metal handles tight, a plaster on his right knee. Our baby had never outgrown his clumsiness, bless him. His head was bent slightly, as if shying away from the camera, smiling coyly.

"So today, Stiles – aka Genim – was diagnosed with ADHD Hyperactive-Impulsive." John spoke, quietly. "Little guy's been taking the news well and didn't complain when he took his first dose of Adderall, couldn't be more proud of him."

"And he's still as perfect as ever." I whispered to myself, but I knew the camera picked me up.

"That he is, honey. And that's all because of you."

"John..."

"No, Claudie. It's true. He gets his perfectness from you. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

I blushed lightly, turning away from the camera, using my light brown hair as a curtain.

"He'll be ok, won't he?" I asked, watching my baby boy grin as a butterfly flew past.

"Of course he will, he's a Stilinski." John laughed, before growing serious. "He as you as a mother. He will be perfectly fine, Claudia."

I nodded.

"So proud." I whispered.

Back to May 31st 2012

I had to stop the disc there, knowing that next would be my tenth birthday – the last birthday I had with my mom. She died two days after I turned ten, and it was still a painful memory. I closed down my laptop, keeping the disc in the drive, placing it on the coffee table. I hadn't realised I was crying until then. Oh, how I needed one of my mom's hugs right now and for her to call me 'baby' again. She always knew how to make me feel better. Instead, I settled for curling in on myself as I did earlier, and crying. I let the tears fall, not bothering to hide them when I realised someone was watching me.

It ended up being Isaac. I knew this when he sat down next to me on the couch, hugging me. I leant into the embrace, the tears coming harder and faster now.

One by one, the rest of the wolves started to join. Soon you had Derek and I in the middle, surrounded by everyone else – Isaac leaning on me on my right, with Danny sitting close next to him; Erica and Boyd leaning on Derek's left; then Scott, Allison, Lydia and Jackson in front on us, all of them touching me somehow. None of them said anything, just sat there as I cried, just being there for me. I had no idea if they knew what I had been watching just moments ago, but if they did, they didn't talk about it. That was what I needed right now.

In the morning, we were in the same positions as we were the night before when they all came back downstairs. I smiled. Even though I remembered the comments that were made when I had first arrived – before they knew I was even there – they were all still there for me.

It was after breakfast when Scott asked me if I wanted to talk about what happened when the voice spoke again. I had forgotten all about her until now. I did not like what she said. I glared at the wall when she finished, curling my hands into fists.

"Stiles?" Danny asked. "Everything alright?"

Slowly, I shook my head.

"What did she say?" Boyd asked.

"I set my jaw, gritting my teeth.

"We can't help if you don't tell us." Derek told me, plainly.

Sighing, I grabbed the notepad and marker pen that I had set on the table in the kitchen – where we all still were.

I wrote: I hate her even more for this, by the way.

"Stiles, what did she say?" Allison asked.

She said: I've decided now that you must say, the name of whose voice I have taken away. The name that has never been revealed, since age of five has been concealed. But not just anyone can say the name, only the one who is captured by loves flame. Then shall I return what you need the most, the voice will go back to its rightful host.

"Seriously, what is it with her and rhyming?" Jackson asked. "Or is it just a witch thing?"

"Is he always so stupid and obnoxious and arrogant and..." she started to ask.

I get her off with a low growl, a noise I never knew I could make.

"Ok, no need to get all mother-hen. I won't bad mouth the pups." she relented. "Though, that is what they did to you."

I was seriously getting pissed off right now. If she wasn't a chick, I would have punched her – if/when we got a hold of her, of course.

"What the hell does that mean?" Erica asked?

"Whoever loves Stiles needs to say his real name." Lydia explained. "Then he'll get his voice back. And thank God too, I've been going crazy without it, and it's only been a day!"

Good luck finding that person, guys.

Please, as if that would ever happen.

And good luck trying to give you my real name. That's never going to happen!

"But, Stiles..." Isaac started.

NO! No one is getting to know my name. That is between me, my dad and my mom!

Everyone went quiet then, realising after I mentioned my mother why I didn't want to tell them. I didn't look any of them in the eye; I just gripped the notebook tight and looked at the floor. I couldn't tell just anyone my name. I could let just anyone call me that name. It was the name she chose for me. The name she gave me.

The day consisted of the Pack trying to convince them to give them my name, to which I shook my head. The only person, who didn't try, was Derek. Only when everyone else had given up and gone outside did he say anything.

"I understand, you know." he told me, not looking away from the wall, as we sat in the living room.

I looked over to him, cocking my head to the side, waiting for him to continue.

"When I moved to New York with Laura, I refused to let anyone call me Derek, only Laura could." Derek continued. "Everyone else called me Ricky. I could only just bare Laura calling me by the name my parents gave me. It hurt too much. It was their name, as much as it was mine, and I didn't want anyone else to use it."

I nodded when he glanced over at me. That was exactly what I was like. If someone else called me Genim, it would just sound wrong.

"You were one of the first people to call me Derek again." he continued. "I didn't talk to anyone after Laura died, especially after I came back here. Then you and Scott wandered out here, and I heard you telling him who I was. It was strange, that you used my name and I didn't feel as bad as I thought I would. Sure, you annoyed me, even then, but it was if my wolf could tell you would be Pack at some point."

I grabbed the notepad and marker.

I can't do this. – I wrote.

"You can, Stiles." Derek told me. "You can do a lot more than anyone, or yourself, gives you credit for."

Yeah, thanks, but I know that's bull shit. Besides, even if I give you guys my name, you still have to find that person, which will never happen.

Derek stood up and slowly made his way over to the couch I was on. He sat down next to me, leaving a small gap. He looked...hesitant. It was strange seeing this gentler side of the Sourwolf I had come to know and fall hopelessly in love with.

"Actually, we've already found them." he whispered. "We're just waiting on you."

How? Who?

"It doesn't matter right now. All we need is for you to tell us your name. I promise you...it won't hurt as much as you think."

I don't know, Derek...

"I promise. Stiles... We need you. All of you and that includes your voice. After you fell asleep last night, everyone was saying how they wished that they'd didn't say anything; they wished they just learnt to accept it. Even Jackson is missing your voice, and you know what he's like!"

I laughed a little. They really missed my voice that much? Even after all they said? I looked down at my hands, biting my lip.

"Please, Stiles?" Derek asked again, almost begging.

There was something about the way that Derek was talking to me that convinced me. Maybe it was because he had been in the same boat as me that convinced me, mixed with the little crush I had on him, but in the end I wrote down my full real name.

"Genim Alexander Stilinski." Derek said, smiling a little.

I flushed, smiling sheepishly. That was until a searing pain burnt through my throat and I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was lying on the couch, and someone was talking way too loudly for my liking. My throat no longer hurt though, so that was a bonus. All I remembered was telling Derek my name and him saying it. Then, poof, nothing.

The voices grew louder and louder as I was dragged further into consciousness.

"What do you mean he just passed out?! Why did he just pass out?!" Allison demanded

"I don't know." Derek muttered.

"How can you not know?! You were the only one in here at the time!" Lydia shrieked.

I groaned as the pitch and dynamics rose even higher, turning away from the noise, my face pressing into the back of the couch. I kept my eyes clenched shut as I curled in on myself. All noise had stopped when I finally made a sound, all of them probably listening intently to figure out whether or not I was awake.

"Do you guys really have to be so fucking loud?" I complained, groaning again.

There were a few more moments of silence, no one saying or doing anything. Then it hit me.

"OH MY GOD, I CAN TALK AGAIN!" I yelled, jumping up from the couch, wide eyed and grinning.

Everyone just stood there, staring. Hell, I would too if I were them.

"Hang on, that means..." I trailed off as I realised that Derek had been the one to say my name.

I went quiet, biting my lip and flushing a bright red after I remembered what the witch had said.

"Yeah, you're quite right, Stiles." that same soft and sickly sweet voice said, this time from behind me. "That's exactly what it means. So, yeah, I had two reasons for taking your voice, but neither you nor Derek would make the first move, and I was getting so bored. You guys are too cute together; I just had to do something! The thing with your friends here only gave me a reasonable excuse to work my magic."

"You!" was all I said, getting redder, ignoring what she said about me and Derek.

"Guilty. Now, my work is down."

"Wait! Who are you?"

The woman smiled warmly, moving her long black hair over her shoulder. She walked closely, and hugged me. Instinctively, I hugged back

"I think you know, baby." she whispered in my ear. "I'm so proud of you, Genim. And I love you so, so much. Mommy's perfect little man."

As she stepped away from me, she placed her hand on my cheek, mouthing 'goodbye, baby'. Then...poof. She disappeared in that same smoke and small spark. I stood there, staring at where she had once been, placing the fingers of my right hand to my right cheek.

"Stiles?" Who was she?" Isaac asked, quietly.

"That was my mom." I chocked out.

"So, looks like she wasn't a witch." Derek said. "Turns out angels actually do exist and sometimes can walk on Earth, assisting where they see necessary."

I smiled a little. It was my mom. I got to see her again. She was safe. She was in a good place. Man, was that a huge relief! Everyone seemed to realise that as they looked at me. It was then that one by one they came over to me, hugging me – even Jackson and Boyd – saying that they were glad I was ok and had my voice back, before leaving the house for a bit. Soon, it was just me and Derek in the living room.

"So..." I started. "Hi."

"I told you so." was all Derek muttered.

"Oh, dude, shut up! It wasn't my fault I was sceptical! Wouldn't you be if the only way to get your voice back was for a certain person to call you by your name, one you haven't told people in almost seventeen years! I mean, you have got to..."

It was then that Derek kissed me. It was quick, but it made me stop talking. I felt my face grow warmer, but I didn't dare look away from Derek, who I really didn't see move closer to me.

"I've wanted to do that for a while." Derek admitted, quietly, a light pick tingeing his face.

"Same." was all I was able to get out.

Neither of us said anything else. I didn't know who moved first this time but, all of a sudden, we were kissing again. I had my right hand buried in his hair, my left gripping his neck, while Derek had his arms around my waist. I couldn't actually believe this was happening, especially when Derek deepened it and hesitantly slipped his tongue into my mouth.

Thank you, mom. All I'm saying.

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