A Merry Christmas
Summary: Stiles has a lonely Christmas with a fluffy end.
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.
Auteurs note: I'm writing this at 2: 30 am on Christmas, so sorry for the spelling mistakes.
Chapter 1
It was Christmas. The warmest happiest time of year. But Stiles wasn't happy. He was lonely. His father was working the night shift, which was quite normal. Nearly every Christmas he worked the night shift. Wait, no, every Christmas, from the year Stiles his mother had died. But Stiles didn't blame him. His father feared he would have a nervous break down, and working helped prevent such things. But most of the time, Stiles would stay with Scott and his mother. It was kind of a tradition. But everything was different now, now that Scott was a werewolf and part of the hale pack.
The pack was throwing a party tonight. Everyone was invited, everyone but Stiles. He knew most of the pack disliked him. But over the last few weeks it had gotten worse. They would shove him away, spit out remarks, etc. It was probably because Derek was out of town. He wasn't there to keep them in control. He would be back today, but the rest had made it quite clear he wasn't wanted.
Scott still seemed to tolerate him, but never defended him, and when Stiles asked him what was going on, he had simply said it was because he wasn't really part of the pack. Not because he was human, no, Lydia and Allison were human and they were part of the pack. It was because he was completely helpless and useless.
But he had decided to make the best that with what was given to him. So from the moment his father had left, he turned on the radio and started backing. He didn't have turkey but some cookies would do just fine. But he couldn't help but let his mind wonder. What would the pack be doing? Did they miss him? Did they notice he was not there? Did they care? Was Derek there?
He shook his head and shoved the cookies into the oven and sat down in the living room chair. He turned on the TV. It was playing Love Actually. A great movie. His mother loved it. The snow had started to fall and Stiles found himself looking outside the window, through the window of the neighbours and into their kitchen. They were laughing and eating. It seemed very cosy.
A soft ding made him realise how long he had been staring. The house was filled with the smell of freshly back chocolate chip cookies, but he wasn't hungry, and didn't feel like eating. But he didn't want the cookies to burn and took them out.
As he sat in the kitchen with a plate full of cookies in front of him he felt lonesome. In his pocked was a little item that would only increase that feeling but he took it out any way. It was a little ornament. It was shaped in the form of a silver bat and his name was carved in it. He had made it himself. Derek had said, before he left, that it was customary for new members of the Hale pack to make one so they could hang it in the tree. He had so foolishly thought he was part of the pack and spend hours in making it.
He put it back in his pocket and sighted. What was he thinking, this was no Christmas. Stiles decided to go to the only place left where he knew someone cared. He took his jacket, scarf and a cookie and jumped into the car.
The drive wasn't so long but it felt like hours. Every house he saw was decorated, alight, and filled with happy people. He finally arrived and stepped out of his car. He solemnly walked into the graveyard. And went to the familiar grave of his mother. The entire place was deserted. Everyone was with families, friends or church.
Stiles did something he hadn't done in years. He climbed onto his mother's grave and sat with his back against her tomb stone. He started talking. Hey mum. I know I don't normally come to you on a day like this. But dads at work and my friends don't want me. I tried to make it work at home. But it isn't quit the same alone. What have I done to deserve this mother? Am I really such a loser, a lousy friend? Cuz I try mum. I really do.
The rest were smothered by tears. He cried and curled up against his mother's tombstone. He was cold and miserable but he didn't want to move. As the snow piled up on top and around him Stiles fell asleep.
He woke up a few hours later. He felt even worse than before. It had become completely dark and was nearly frozen. He hastily got of the grave, told his mother goodbye and went to the car. He didn't want to go home to the empty house so he drove around until he found himself next to the entree of the forest.
He parked his car and entered. It was completely silent except for the snow creaking under his shoes, and the occasional owl. Stiles walked all the way to the lookout point and sat down on the rock. As he stared out to Beacon Hills. He let his head down and sighed. Merry Christmas. To himself. But much to his surprise. Merry Christmas indeed Stiles Stilinski. He turned around hastily, nearly falling from the rock. In front of him stood Derek. Derek Hale. In his letter jacked holding a little wrapped bock.
What? How? Where? Stiles stuttered. Shut up Stilinski. Here, for you. Derek pushed the box into Stiles his hand. Hesitantly he started to unwrap and unfold he box. Inside was a silver wolf. It was howling. Stiles blushed. I didn't get you anything. Sorry, I didn't think you guys exchanged gifts. Derek started to grin. We don't. You are the only one I gave something. But don't worry, I know what you can give me. And before Stiles could response his lips were sealed by Derek's. The kiss was soft but passionate. At first he was petrified, but then he kissed back. Sparks filled his head, and butterflies filled his stomach. Derek pulled away and they rested there foreheads together. Slowly Derek took Stiles his face and pulled it upwards, so they were face to face. Stiles could feel the breath of the wolf. Merry Christmas Stiles, and a happy New Year.