Holidays were a depressing time in the Stilinski household. It's not that the Sheriff and Stiles didn't enjoy themselves as they sometimes celebrated them with Melissa and Scott McCall with great success. Nevertheless though, holidays always trudged up certain memories that dulled what would otherwise be a happy day.
It didn't help matters that Claudia Stilinski had loved the holidays. Every national holiday had been recognized and exploited to every possible advantage. Christmas was extravagant and lasted for days. Thanksgiving brought out the fancy cooking and leftovers for weeks. Even made up holidays like May 4th (May the Fourth be with you anyone?) were enjoyed, because really, who could pass up a day dedicated to all things Star Wars?
So it came as no surprise that Independence Day held similar conflicting memories, at once both fond and painful. When Stiles got up that morning and saw the date on his cellphone, he physically ached from how much he missed the red white and blue (strawberry and blueberry) pancakes that used to be waiting downstairs already plated and stacked with a bottle of syrup to the side. His head swam with vivid recollections of walking to the Beacon Hills Park and sitting on the swings with one hand holding an ice cream cone, the other curled around the swing's chains, and watching fireworks shoot off in the distance at the high school's football stadium. More than any particular tradition though, he missed the person who had made them special.
Stiles rubbed at his bleary eyes and steeled himself for another day onslaught with painful memories. His therapists told him the pain would fade with time, but if anything, as he got older the pain worsened. Because it wasn't just about remembering the past. It was about thinking about what could have been.
Just as he had resigned to once again, spend the holiday sprawled out on the couch binge-watching Buffy or Battlestar Galactica (he still hadn't decided yet), his cellphone began to ring, blaring out the theme song for Batman.
"What's up?" he asked, holding the phone to his ear and trying to keep his voice light.
"Dude," his best friend heaved into the phone, sounding winded and immediately putting Stiles on edge. "We've got a problem." There was a loud crashing sound on the other end of the line and then "I'll be over in ten."
Stiles stared at his phone for a minute, watching Scott's picture for caller ID flash on the screen for a moment before saying "call ended." Then with a sigh, because there wasn't anything else you could do when supernatural events were ruining your Buffy binge-watching plans, Stiles sauntered to the bathroom and turned on the water to start a shower. With one more sigh for good measure, he slammed the bathroom door closed and hopped in, mentally counting down the minutes before Scott would be there and his day of craziness would officially begin.
It wasn't until fifteen minutes later, when Stiles was dressed, wet hair dripping down his back, and a half-eaten toaster strudel in his hand, that there was a knock on the door. Stiles chuckled to himself as he went to let Scott in, but any good mood he had dropped away when he saw his best friend standing there covered in blood.
He almost dropped his toaster strudel in shock and scrambled to catch it in mid-air. Stuffing it into his mouth, he reached out for Scott and started dragging him inside. "What happened?" he asked, his words muffled by the pastry. When Scott shook him off, saying he was fine, Stiles let go and pulled out the strudel, repeating "What happened?"
"Don't worry, it's not my blood," Scott started off with, then winced. "Wait, that came out wrong. It's not my blood AND it's not blood at all."
Stiles frowned, thinking that all of the werewolf business and paranormal hoopla had finally cracked his Scott and he had gone insane. Then he caught the faint scent of... fruit? "Is that cherry?" Stiles asked, leaning forward to inspect Scott's clothes.
With a grumble about his mother killing him the next time she did laundry, he nodded. "Slushies. I chased that darn gnome down the street and straight through the slushie stand. Cherry syrup... everywhere."
"Ugh, man you smell like medicine." Stiles muttered, taking a step back. He shuddered at the thought of gulping down buckets of that cherry-flavored cough medicine when he was sick. Then he caught one of Scott's words, "Wait, did you say gnome?"
Scott grumbled again, obviously reliving his own childhood terrors of the cherry kind. "I know. Do you think I could borrow a change of clothes?" Then, "and yeah, gnome. What annoying little twits they are too." Scott's eyes flashed red for a brief moment before he gained control of his anger.
Walking into the kitchen, Stiles grabbed his other toaster strudel and handed it to Scott who promptly took a bite. Then he gestured upstairs. They went up in silence and Stiles fetched Scott a clean pair of shorts and t-shirt from his closet. As Scott changed, Stiles went into his bathroom across the hall to get a towel. He ran it under the faucet and then walked back to his room.
"Thanks," Scott grimaced taking the towel and wiping the red syrup from his face. He paused in his motions and glanced at Stiles. "I'm fine now. Emotions in check."
Stiles didn't waste another second before launching into the questions that had been on the tip of his tongue since he had heard the word "gnome." "What did they look like? Where did you see them at? What do you think they want?"
Scott laughed at the onslaught of questions before slinging the towel over his shoulder and sitting down on Stiles's bed. "Short. Covered in dirt. Scrunched up little faces." He paused to think, reaching down for his discarded pants and pulling out his cellphone. "I was on a morning run and one of them just flew up from the ground, knocking into me. I stopped right away to make sure I hadn't hurt it and then... and then the thing bit me!" Scott sounded indignant. "I chased the one into a field and there were dozens more." Scott frowned them added, "Super ugly" for good measure.
"And that is super helpful," Lydia snarked, coming in the room behind Stiles and sitting down beside Scott, who looked at his friend questioningly. "Of course he called me," Lydia said rolling her eyes at Scott like he was born yesterday. "They're up here!" she yelled, and that time it was Stiles's turn to look confused until Kira appeared in the doorway.
"Hey guys," she waved, before walking over and sitting down on the other side of Scott. "Um... you've got something on your..." she muttered, indicating his cheek, but then saw the towel on his shoulder and lifted a corner to wipe off the red smudge he'd missed. Scott gave her a dimpled smile. As she worked she asked, "So what was the big emergency, and why did I have to hear about it from Lydia?" Scott's smile faltered. "Wait, do I smell cherry?"
Stiles laughed and Scott dropped his head into his hands, no longer concerned with Kira being mad at him for not calling her. "Yes," he mumbled, and when he straightened back up, the tips of his ears were pink. "I may have had a slight altercation this morning with a gnome."
"A gnome?" Lydia asked, interest clearly piqued. She watched as Stiles walked over to his computer and plunked down in his rolling chair. In seconds he had pulled up a gallery of pictures. Everyone gathered around and when Scott pointed to a small image of a short; chubby creature, confirming "that's what the ugly little monster looked like," Stiles forwarded it to every pack member's number and went to see what information he could find.
It turned put there was no need to research though, because within two minutes of sending out the group text, Scott's phone was ringing. "So I hear we're having a little gnome problem" is what Derek said when Scott picked up, not even bothering to say hello.
"Is that Derek?" Stiles mouthed. When Scott nodded he gave up being quiet. "No one ever calls me!" He turned his glare to Lydia.
Lydia sniffed. "That was one time. How was I supposed to know that I need to call you before the police? Logically speaking, that's just not the first conclusion that one would jump too."
Before Stiles had time to disagree, Scott was hanging up. "So, Derek says that they had an infestation problem a few years ago."
"And...?" Stiles prodded. His friend was not known for getting to the point.
"He said it was pretty easy to eradicate them. First we have to find the central location where they are staying. They're usually not spread out, instead they just dig really deep."
"So... the field?" Kira guessed.
"That's what I'm thinking." Scott shrugged. "And then we have to do something to disrupt their habitat. Gnomes are very sensitive, so once you affect an area, it will ward them off for a while since the effect lingers."
Everyone was silent a moment while trying to think up a solution. "Well how did Derek disrupt their habitat before?" Kira asked.
"He gathered up a bunch of pack members and they growled." When Stiles snorted in disbelief, Scott laughed along with him. "Yeah, that's what I felt like too when he explained it to me. But I guess the growling was too loud for their ears?"
"No. No. That actually makes sense, "Lydia cut "But it's not doable with the close proximity of the field to town."
"Especially with the holiday," Stiles added. "Did Derek say what harm could come of letting them stay, if even for a few days?" Unsurprisingly, Scott shook his head and Stiles went back to the computer to fill in the gaps in Derek's information like always.
When Stiles discovered that leaving the gnomes alone could lead to a breeding ground for more supernatural creatures that were even harder to get rid of, everyone agreed that the gnomes needed to go. Immediately.
Apparently Derek didn't just leave out gaps though, but entire steps in his explanation, which they only found out later while in the middle of executing said steps.
Lydia came up with the brilliant plan for Kira to use her kitsune powers to disrupt the field because they would not draw attention like Scott's alpha growl or Lydia's banshee scream. After first checking the plants to make sure the field wasn't wet (after all, they just wanted to get rid of the gnomes, not kill them), Kira got to work.
Similar to how earthquakes cause waves to move through the ground, Kira was able to channel her power to send energy waves through the field. While making an extremely uncomfortable environment for the gnomes, Kira didn't actually hurt them. She had honed her powers enough to manage that.
What they were not prepared for was what came after. As soon as the first waves of energy hit, the gnomes came shooting out from the ground, cursing and shouting insults. The little buggers mulled around for a while before plopping down on the dirt, sitting Indian style, legs crossed.
Sitting freaking Indian style because what Derek failed to mention was that after getting the gnomes out you were responsible for transporting them to a new location. "Otherwise they will cause a terror above ground," he explained helpfully days after the fact.
So the gnomes were loaded into Stiles's Jeep as well as a car borrowed from Kira's parents and they headed a few hours south to where there was a nice preserve, not frequently traversed and a perfect home for the annoying things.
They got no thanks from the creatures as they unloaded and wandered off into the trees out of sight. "That's just so rude," Stiles muttered, slamming the back of his Jeep shut and trying to forget the sight of his car seats covered in tiny dirt handprints and footprints.
The ride back was full of Stiles rambling about anything and everything from random facts about druids to philosophical ponderings about the afterlife of werewolves. He even spent a full minute when he was really tired, mumbling about his past fourth of Julys and how before werewolves they never involved chasing down gnomes. Lydia for her part was silent, offering the occasional listening ear and mostly just falling in and out of sleep.
When they finally pulled back up to the Stilinski house, it was beginning to grow dark and Stiles barely made it inside without collapsing from exhaustion. Lydia had to pull the forgotten keys out of the Jeep's ignition and followed Stiles inside. When he looked blearily around like he didn't even recognize his own house, she took it upon herself to lead him upstairs to bed. Within seconds of collapsing on it, he was asleep and Lydia threw a blanket over his unconscious form before heading back downstairs.
In the living room Scott and Kira were already lying on the couch, close to sleep themselves. Lydia went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea and pulled out her phone to check out the hours for Beacon Hills' July 4th festivities.
When Stiles awoke, rays of light from the setting sun were dancing through his room, creating oddly-shaped shadows and angles. He didn't make to get up, just tilted his head to look at his clock. 7:05.
It took him a long moment of staring at his ceiling and pushing away the lingering remnants of sleep to remember what had happened that day. When he began to recall Scott showing up on his front porch covered in cherry syrup, and then working to get rid of a colony of gnomes, a faint smile appeared on his face.
But then he remembered what today was and just like in the morning a swell of memories rushed over him. Instead of seeing gnomes he saw his mother, and really really wished that he had been able to stay home alone that day.
Downstairs a bell went off, and Stiles jerked up in bed. It quickly ceased and was followed by a smatter of talking. He recognized Scott's voice and any potential panic quickly faded away. He forgot they had stayed. After herding the gnomes into his Jeep and driving for hours he was exhausted. Actually, he didn't even remember walking upstairs.
It was nice that they had stayed. After all, it was the polite thing to do. However, Stiles really wanted them to leave. Stiles wanted to be by himself and succumb to Buffy, letting vampire slayers and the Hellmouth control his thoughts. He wanted to be numb.
As he headed down to the kitchen, he thought about all the possible ways to go about kicking them out without sounding like a total jerk.
Then he walked into the kitchen and was overwhelmed by the smell of pancakes. Lydia was standing at the stove, and hearing him walk in turned around. An apron was tied around her waist and she held a spatula in one hand, gesturing wildly. Her mouth was moving but Stiles didn't catch any of the words, utterly confused by whatever the heck was going on.
"Stiles? Stiles!" Scott's voice broke through his haze and he looked over at his best friend. "You alright man?" Scott asked, concern clouding his features.
Both Lydia and Kira were frowning as well and Stiles quickly put on a smile. "I'm fine." He laughed, running a hand over his face. "Still a little tired and out of it I guess." The yawn that escaped his mouth wasn't even forced.
Everyone relaxed at that and Stiles pulled out a chair at the kitchen table across from Scott and Kira. Lydia stood staring for another moment at Stiles before turning back to the stove again. Stiles watched her flip over two pancakes, a question posed on his lips, but he held it in.
"We just woke up ourselves," Kira supplied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and flattening out her bedhead. Scott grinned at his girlfriend and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, placing a kiss on the side of her cheek.
"And Lydia's making pancakes!" Scott added, stating the obvious. "We were thinking after eating we could go to the fireworks, too."
A protest formed on Stiles lips but then Lydia turned around saying, "You guys didn't have any strawberries in your refrigerator. I hope raspberries and blueberries are okay."
Stiles was just as confused as ever, however Lydia looked particularly concerned about his reaction to this so he said, "Sounds great Lyds."
She nodded, visibly relieved and began to plate up the pancakes. It wasn't until Stiles was halfway through his stack that he felt an inkling of recognition form in the back of his head. Then Lydia started complaining. Apparently she had small muddy handprint on the back of her shirt and she'd had to borrow a clean shirt from Stiles. Any other thought fell to the wayside as he laughed along with everyone else. Because Lydia Martin was wearing his shirt and what was his life?
After they finished eating, there were still two hours before the fireworks began at 10:00 so they formed an assembly line to wash dishes, and spent the rest of the time chatting in the living room. Many complaints were shared about Derek's lack of information, and they determined it was in his genes to leave out important facts since Peter seemed to have the same tendency.
At 9:00 they headed out in Stiles's Jeep, which was suspiciously absent of dirty prints and much cleaner than it had been that morning. Lydia just huffed and explained that she had an inability to lounge around and do nothing. It was in her nature to keep busy.
When Lydia suggested they go to the park, Stiles was still smiling and quickly turned on his left blinker.
The parking lot at the park was empty, everyone at the football stadium already. When Lydia walked past the playground though, Stiles turned a quirked eyebrow to Scott and Kira who weren't even paying attention so Stiles kept a comment to himself and followed.
As the ice cream stand came into view, lights on but just as empty as the park, the inkling returned. He glanced curiously at the redhead as she pulled open the door with a determined whoosh, and sauntered up to the counter. "A small cookie dough for me please."
"Cone or cup?" the teenager behind the counter asked.
Lydia didn't hesitate. "Cone." Then she turned around to the other three. "What does everyone else want? I'm paying."
They didn't need to be asked twice and five minutes later they were all walking out with ice cream in hand. Stiles had gotten the Superman flavor in a cone, at which Lydia had scoffed, telling Stiles it was just a marketing ploy since it was just colored vanilla. Scott had chosen a milkshake, peanut butter and strawberry because ever since he was turned into a werewolf he had found great pleasure in eating the foods he was once allergic to. Kira got a cup full of strawberry ice cream, to which Stiles balked at the lack of cone and called it blasphemy. Kira argued that it was less messy that way, but Scott more than once that night leaned over to wipe a pink drop off her cheek.
Stiles was so busy eating his ice cream that he had not been paying attention to where Lydia was headed, choosing to blindly follow. When they stopped and he finally focused though, they were standing in front of a set of swings. Stiles felt his eyes grow warm and a lump rise up in his throat which he tried to push down. He kept his head ducked as he sat on the swing between Lydia and Scott, feigning extreme interest in his colorful ice cream.
Minutes later when the fireworks began to go off, Stiles made the decision to keep his head down for the entire show. Otherwise he was positive he was going to break down right there on the playground in front of his friends.
Then a hand appeared in the corner of his vision and grasped onto his own. Stiles looked up into the eyes of Lydia and finally everything clicked into place. The pancakes, the ice cream, the swing set while watching fireworks... all of the traditions he'd had with his mom.
Stiles had thought Lydia was asleep during that part of the car ride, but now he realized she hadn't been. Instead, she'd been listening the entire time. Looking at Lydia he felt his eyes stinging for an entirely different reason. "Thank you," he whispered.
Lydia smiled and nodded. "Now watch the fireworks with me Stilinski."
For the record, raspberries and blueberries were one heck of a combination in pancakes, even rivaling strawberries and blueberries. And eating said pancakes for dinner before heading to the fireworks was basically perfection.
It had been years since he'd seen them, having made great attempts to stay away from anything that brought up memories of his mom. Sitting there with his friends and holding hands with the most beautiful (and thoughtful) girl in school though, Stiles realized that this holiday had turned out pretty well. And maybe instead of fearing the holidays for what memories they brought, he could embrace the past and look forward to what new ones would come.
It is now one day past July 4th, but I couldn't wait a whole year to post this. Forgive me.
It's not anywhere close to perfect, but I wrote this all on my phone and editing is kind of hard when your text box is two inches wide. I'll probably come back and edit this later. Enjoy it for what it is and let me know what you think!