Any suggestions for 7th grade will be much appreciated – I sorta have a plan but if anyone suggests something better I'll jump on it. It'll be stiles' pov.
Spoiler alert: I hate writing panic attacks as much as I hate having them.

Fifth Grade

The day was unnaturally perfect. Well, some would describe it as perfect. The sun was shining up above. White fluffy clouds dotted the sky but never blocked out the sun. There was a fresh, cooling breeze and birds that sang sweet melodies from their leafy green trees.

It was sickening.

Derek looked down at Stiles' hand as he took a gentle hold of it. He didn't wince when Stiles latched on a little too tightly. If he didn't know better he would swear that Stiles was just trying to break his hand. He squeezed back and Stiles' death grip loosened a fraction. He stared at Stiles' pale fingers intertwined with his. He was unable to look away from their fingers. If he looked up again he would see all those crying faces again. He would see Stiles' crying face.

That, he really couldn't take.

He took a deep breath and thought about what Laura had told him as she tied his tie for him. She told him not to cry, no matter how sad he was he wasn't allowed to cry. Today was Stiles' day to cry, to be sad. He could cry all he wanted when he was at home after the service but not before or during.

He bit his cheek – the dull pain keeping him grounded – and forced himself to look up. Sure enough everyone was crying, either silent tears or openly sobbing, except Stiles.

Stiles was staring blankly at the unfairly beautiful floral arrangement that rested on top of the polished black coffin as it slowly sank into the Earth. His golden orbs were amazingly focused; only the shine of unshed tears and his death grip gave away how he was really feeling.

Derek studied Stiles' face – he was green and looked thinner than normal. He decided then that it would be easier to see Stiles crying his eyes out than to see him so silent and closed off.

Biting his cheek harder, he gently tugged on Stiles' arm. Stiles turned his gaze to him and Derek felt his heart sink.

As they stared at each other Stiles' blank mask slowly began to fall away. His chin trembled and his eyebrows furrowed. He was on the edge of sobbing. Derek reached up and rested his free hand on Stiles' trembling shoulder. The reaction was instantaneous; Stiles practically lunged into his arms. With his head buried in the crook of Derek's neck, Derek could feel the tears finally escape.

He silently held Stiles as his body quaked with sob after sob. He held Stiles as close as he could, his free hand stroking the soft, tiny hairs that covered Stiles' head.

They had wanted to show their support for Stiles' mother while she was getting out of the hospital for the first time in months. After hours of brainstorming, it had been Derek's idea to shave their heads and grow their hair back along with her.

However, they only had the chance to shave Stiles' hair off before the deputy sheriff came home and found them using his electric razor. He was yelling at them about how unsafe that was until Derek handed over the razor and said "He shaved for her."

After that the deputy got really quiet and left the bathroom, leaving them to clean up. They talked about shaving Derek's hair but the deputy had held on to the razor and had taken it with him. In the end, Derek promised that he would shave his hair off once he got home but apparently the deputy warned Derek's parents and they hid all the razors so he couldn't do it.

The worst part was that they wouldn't budge on the subject no matter how many times Derek explained the importance of showing his support.

Derek's grip tightened on his best friend as a wave of his own sadness hit him. He didn't cry, only a single tear escaped – it didn't count as crying – and slowly rolled down his cheek before it was absorbed by Stiles' suit jacket like it never happened.

They were clinging to each other for dear life when it happened. Stiles began trembling almost violently with choked off sobs that were coming too close together for him to be able to actually breath. His body sagged heavily against Derek's and Derek managed to cry for help before Stiles completely collapsed.

The deputy snapped out of his own silent tears just in time to catch the two before Derek's own legs gave out. He took Stiles away from Derek and lowered him to the ground. The deputy was telling him how it was okay, to calm down and breathe but anyone could see those were all the wrong things to say because moments after Stiles started to claw at his own scalp, shaking and sobbing even more uncontrollably.

Derek was at his side, terrified. Stiles had never acted like this before. He didn't know what to do or how to help.

His mother would have known just what to do in this situation but she and the rest of his family hadn't attended the funeral. They said they couldn't, not when they could have done something – like given the bite – to save Stiles' mother's life. They had offered everyday but even when it was unbearable she had said no to it. Everyone knew that when someone was so against the bite – as she was – that it was less likely to take

He did the only thing he could do and repeated Stiles' name, trying to ground him, "Stiles… Stiles… Stiles!"

Golden eyes finally opened and met his, wide with fright. He could smell it now, the cold sweat that broke out on someone's skin when they were so desperately terrified. He swallowed thickly and reached out, cupping Stiles' damp cheeks. Stiles instantly latched onto his wrists and pushed his face into the touch as another sob ripped through him.

Derek looked the deputy straight in the eye and used his grown up voice as he said "I need my backpack. It's in your car. Go get it."

The deputy stared back at him with a confused expression aging his face as he held Stiles from behind. In response Derek hardened his eyes and jerked his chin in the direction of the parking lot. He didn't really think that pretending to be the alpha would work, so when the deputy sheriff lowered his gaze and stood up he was pleasantly surprised. He kept his gaze hard as he watched the man work his way through the crowd that had formed around them but softened it as he looked back at Stiles.

With his dad gone, Stiles seemed to freak out again. Derek pulled him close, cradling his head against his chest. He hated feeling so helpless when his best friend, only friend really, was involved. He began to make soothing growling sounds – like his mother always did when he was upset – to quell Stiles' sobs. Lucky for him it seemed to work.

A smile crept onto Derek's face when Stiles slowly started to breathe normally again, deep calming breaths, and stopped sobbing. He pressed his cheek to the top of Stiles' head and closed his eyes. Long, comfortable minutes passed like that, just silently holding onto each other.

When Derek opened his eyes he saw the deputy standing over them, watching them with an unfocused gaze and holding his backpack in loose grasp. Slowly, the deputy's eyes met his and they stared at each other until the deputy held the backpack out to him. Derek broke eye contact and grabbed his backpack.

He had a difficult time getting the zipper open since he refused to let go of Stiles and bat the deputy's hands away when he tried to help. He managed to get it open, eventually. Reaching inside, he pulled out Timber. The poor, old wolf plush had seen much better days.

He tucked the wolf in the small gap of space in between him and Stiles. He bowed his head and whispered in Stiles' ear, "He'll be yours from now on. He'll be yours forever."

Stiles sleepily looked down at the wolf plush then up at Derek. He let go of Derek so he could wrap the wolf protectively in his arms. "Won't you need him?"

Derek's heart clenched painfully at the sound of Stiles' voice. He sounded so sad, so defeated. He wouldn't sound so sad if he really understood what Derek was giving him… would he?

He grabbed the wolf by the neck and tilted its head up so it was staring up at Stiles. "I love you, Stiles," He said in a growly voice, trying to mimic what a true wolf might sound like if it could talk.

Stiles smiled down at the wolf and said "I love you too, Timber."

Well, that was good enough for now. Stiles may not have understood the symbolism behind the gift but at least it got him smiling. Today was not really the day for this anyway.