A/N: Here is a fairly non-Christmassy Christmas fic. I took some inspiration from the song quoted below which is called Only Child by the band 3. Their newest album, The Ghost You Gave To Me has become an instant classic for me and I'd urge anyone with an interest in bands like Coheed and Cambria and Dream Theatre to check it out. The fic title also comes from the same song.

You never know
Fallen or in flight
Wind moans
Deep in the dark of night
And by the blue moon light
At the angle when it hits me right
You can see the choice
Here beneath my skin
Bright bones
Barely keeping the beast within
Prick of a pin
Let the shift of my shape begin
But the barrier is thin

It was the silence that surprised him most of all. Where a week ago there had been so many sounds: twigs snapping, leaves crunching, the scurrying away of tiny animals, now everything lay deadened, muffled, like the whole world had put on ear defenders.

He lifted a paw and carefully placed it down again. It felt good, cold but good as the snow compacted around his pads making tiny squelching sounds. Slowly he stalked a path through the trees, listening, always listening but hearing nothing except his own gentle footfalls. He lifted his head to point his muzzle at the tree tops. Through the leafless branches the full moon shone brightly, casting an almost ethereal glow over the wooded landscape. Even his sense of smell was affected. So many things that would normally give off scents lay blanketed under the pristine carpet of snow.

Suddenly something triggered his senses, a movement up ahead of him, a shadow perhaps, where there oughtn't to be one. The fur on his hackles rose and he stood on alert, ears pricked and tail straight out behind him. A flurry of activity burst from the undergrowth and a yellow eyed beast hared directly towards him. He squatted back in preparation and as the creature gained ground, he leaped to meet it in the air.

It was actually Stiles who noticed when the full moon occurred that month; only a couple of weeks before but early enough to make plans for it. Stiles had been picking around the internet, google-hopping, while Scott lay on the floor making lists and Derek reclined on the bed, seemingly oblivious but in reality highly attuned to the moods in the room. He even knew to expect a Stiles spaz-out micro seconds before it happened.

"Hey!" exclaimed the boy, wheeling around in his chair so quickly that he almost fell off it. "You'll never guess when the next full moon is!"

Two eyebrows raised questioningly in his direction, one demonstrably less interested than the other.

"C'mon, humour a poor weak human whose only superpower is ninja google skills, at least try for me", pleaded Stiles.

"Tomorrow", said Scott.

"Next Friday", said Derek.

"No and no, you're both really rubbish wolves if I have to tell you this. You should be keeping an eye on the calendar", Stiles chided the pair of them.

"Well...?" prodded Derek, eager to fall back into the state of low activity but heightened awareness usually mistaken for dozing.

Stiles performed a drum roll on his knees. "It's...Christmas Day!" he crowed.

"Oh", said Scott.

"Nice", said Derek and shut his eyes again.

"Seriously, that's all I'm getting out of you? I despair!"

At that very moment, Stiles elected to take on the preparation for the pack run himself. Each month Derek would dictate where the run would take place, once taking the pack 50 miles out of state to a landscape of rolling hills and once on a long weekend to a place where a dense forest met the sea shore. Stiles had no wish to mess with that but there were so many other things he could do to make the event special. Being Christmas he knew it would be a local run, it would be too difficult to organise anything else.

Stiles told all the pack to tell their families that there were to be no late Christmas feasts that day. Everybody - no exceptions – was to meet at Derek's house at 8 o' clock that night. Over the next week Stiles made lists which all had to be thrown out and redone when he woke up one morning a few days before Christmas Day and looked out of his window.

The sky had been greying over for a while and the temperature had dropped. Stiles had been hoping for this but didn't dare to mention it for fear of jinxing the possibility but it was true, he was seeing it with his own eyes: snow. His glee as he cast his glance across the gently falling flakes was palpable, enough even to rouse Derek from his warm cocoon in Stiles' bed to see what the fuss was all about.

Derek joined Stiles at the window, dragging a blanket with him and throwing it over both their shoulders as they contemplated the changed and changing landscape. Stiles wrapped an arm around Derek's waist and pulled him closer. "It's going to be so good", he grinned.

The two creatures collided in mid-air, falling back to the ground in a mess of legs and bellies and snouts. The dark one with the red eyes cuffed the lighter one with a paw that was not tangled up and the pair fought to extricate themselves. Once freed, the smaller wolf butted the side of the other with its head, trying to push it over into the snow. Between pants the dark wolf turned its head and nipped at the haunches of its attacker. In its eagerness to turn and retaliate, it moved too quickly and lost its footing in the snow. Falling over again, it managed to bring the yellow eyed wolf down with it. For moments the two rolled against each other, kicking up small flurries of snow and disturbing the otherwise untouched fall.

Then a sound rent the otherwise deadened atmosphere: a howl, but not a howl of pain or fear, a howl of joy. The two play-fighting wolves jumped to their feet and lifted their heads up in answering yelps. Seconds later a third pale furred wolf barrelled through the trees and straight into them, creating a snapping, growling wolf pile in the snow.

Three sets of legs each fought to win the right to stand above the others. Three pairs of snapping jaws bit and snipped at fur and flesh and three lithe bodies writhed against each other in an orgiastic battle of dominance. The two smaller wolves tired first, slumping down, allowing the dark wolf to assert his position as alpha. For a while the beasts lay there panting, great huffs of breath misting out in the crisp air. Something caught the red eyes of the dark wolf, he sniffed in the air, searching for a scent and slowly stood up, alert. The others followed and scented the air too and then soundlessly the three creatures took off as one, bounding through the woodland, twisting round trees, intent on a destination known only to them.

The bonfire cast out small sparks, its red glow contrasting incredibly with the blue tinged snow under the moonlight. Stiles was proud of the bonfire, it was about four feet across and a couple of feet high and it had taken him several days to gather the wood and get it to the lake shore. It was big enough to last all night and even if it wasn't, there was a spare wood pile down by the side of Stiles' jeep.

That morning, the one of the first snow fall, standing at the window, Stiles had asked Derek where the run was going to be.

"Why?" asked Derek.

"Because I want it to end in a good place where we can rest a while and just enjoy it; somewhere beautiful and peaceful", answered Stiles.

"There's always the lake", offered Derek and Stiles knew instantly that he was right. Popular in summer with families and teens but deserted in winter, the small beach at the lake would be ideal for a rendezvous.

Now Stiles lay in the shadow of the bonfire, wrapped up in a sleeping bag. To his right Allison and Lydia snuggled together to keep warm. Allison lay on her back and stared up at the sky.

"It's so beautiful, I can't believe it's so perfect", she said. Stiles had to agree, the clear fresh night allowed the stars to glitter in their millions, the bright moonlight washing over the snow-capped trees at the lakeside and the stillness of the air lent a Christmas card like feel to their surroundings.

Away in the distance, a howl shattered the quiet followed by other unworldly cries.

"There they are", said Stiles excitedly, "They won't be long now."

The three of them sat up, pulling warm blankets around them eager to greet their mates after the exhilaration of the midnight wolf run. Only the crackling of the bonfire broke the silence as they strained to hear the wolves approach. It seemed to be taking a long time and then Stiles saw a moving shape on the headland half a mile away. Silhouetted by the moonlight behind it, the shape defined itself into a wolf, head up pointing at the stars. Stiles didn't think he'd ever seen anything quite so breath-taking. The still, dark figure against the pale soft background looked like a ghostly apparition, a portent for something wonderful. Then the wolf opened its jaws and howled out, pawing at the snow covered ground as it sang a song of freedom and joy. Turning swiftly the wolf dashed back down the headland and was gone from Stiles sight.

No more than a minute later, the wolves burst into the clearing and stopped, lungs heaving and tongues lolling. The pale one and the yellow-eyed one padded over to the two girls and flopped down between them. The dark wolf contemplated Stiles with its red eyes, rhythmic panting breaking the silence. It launched itself at Stiles landing with its front paws and head on Stiles chest, pushing him over. Stiles wrapped his arms around the wolf which was now trying to lick his face and petted it, forcing his hands deep into the fur to scratch its back and sides.

"Hey buddy, did you have a good time, did you?" Stiles crooned into its neck, trying to avoid the great swathes of saliva that the wolf seemed intent on sharing.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too, yes I do." Stiles grabbed at the hunks of fur cresting round the wolf's neck and pulled it down to his side so he could rub its tummy. The dark beast lay on its side, closing its eyes and enjoying being fussed over. Gradually Stiles felt the fur recede under his hands and that strange sensation of bone and muscle rearranging itself. Five minutes later an all human Derek lay beside him not quite shivering.

Stiles lifted up the side of the sleeping bag for Derek to snuggle in with him.

"I've got your clothes here; they should be nice and warm." Stiles pulled some garments from deep inside the sleeping bag.

"Thanks", said Derek and he gamely tried to dress himself while still laying down half inside the bag. Stiles pulled the twisted clothing round to help him. Once Derek was dressed he pushed in closer to Stiles and put his arms around him, nuzzling into Stiles' neck.

"Thank you for all this", he whispered into Stiles skin. "The run was amazing, it felt so good running through the snow and then, to have you here at the end, waiting for me..." he broke off, content to let the actions of his mouth and hands speak instead of words.

After a couple of minutes Stiles dropped a kiss on his dark head, "Merry Christmas, Derek."

Derek leaned up to kiss Stiles lips. "I really do love you, you know", he mouthed between pecks.

"I know", said Stiles, "I know."