Author's Note: Hey, everybody. I just wanna give a quick thanks to Orgasmic Bunnies for her wonderful suggestions which I have already put into use for the next chapters. Thank you all for reading! Don't forget to review with opinions/ideas/suggestions. Enjoy!
There is a ray of sunlight right across his face so bright and powerful that it actually manages to make Stiles stir. He's still too sleepy to open his eyes but his nose twitches when he catches a whiff of an alluring, greasy scent in the air. For a moment, he just lays there and breathes it in, but then his legs are taking him downstairs and he doesn't even bother to brush his teeth because hello, he's about to stuff his mouth with fatty goodness. His mouth is already watering at the thought of getting to eat a good hearty breakfast after last night's unfortunate turn of events. He hears the clattering of a spatula against the sink and smiles to himself when he thinks about how his dad, who's not the best of cooks, got up early in the morning just to cheer Stiles up with some Saturday breakfast on his day off. He makes a mental note to allow his dad to have a slice of bacon. Maybe half a slice. Stiles peeks his head through the kitchen doorway and grins when he sees the sheriff in that pink apron that Stiles had insisted on buying his mother when he was a child.
The sheriff had dragged his four year old son to the nearest store in search for a gift for his wife. Stiles had just begun to show the slightest signs of ADHD. The most noticeable ones being his rapid rambling and his inability to refrain himself from touching everything in his path. The sheriff had one hand on his kid's shoulder and he could feel Stiles' little muscles tense as they passed something that called his attention and god it must be physically painful for this kid not to run towards those Hot Wheelz right now, he thought to himself. He was thinking of what to get his wife for Valentines (of course he had forgotten his wife's favorite holiday), when suddenly one of Stiles' lanky arm's had reached up and tugged at his uniform jacket with his skinny fingers. "Oooh, Papa look at those, things! Can we buy one for Mama? She's always getting her clothes dirty when she makes me snacks! Can we, please?" Stiles clasped both his hands together, and shifted from foot to foot looking at his father with those big brown doe eyes that he had undoubtedly received from his mother.
"Mmmm, I don't know, Genim." The sheriff asked playfully, knowing his son's reaction would most likely result in to begging, and he was right, as soon as the words left his mouth Stiles had thrown himself to the ground and kneeled before him, on the verge of tears. "Papa, pleeeease? I'll stop playing with the matches Mama tells me not to touch. I'll even sleep in my own bed! She'll really like it, Papa! I promise!" Stiles exclaimed. While he was shouting his plea, Stiles had gotten on his tip-toes and had begun to jump uselessly in the air while trying to reach a pink apron with the words I love Mommy written across it. The child lost his balance (hyper little thing probably tripped on his own damn feet), and was just about to fall face first into a pile of towels when John grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up. "Alright son, choose your pick." He said as he stood holding Stiles, his little feet dangling off the ground. Stiles' hands reached out and grasped the apron he was trying to reach earlier. Satisfied, the two Stilinskis left the store. Stiles swinging the gift for his mother all the way to the car. The little boy squirmed in his booster seat the entire way home. Once they arrived, John was the first to enter the house and he gave his wife a sheepish smile when he found her sitting at the dinner table with her arms folded across her chest.
Rose raised an eyebrow at him and he could tell that she was trying not to smile. Figures, of course she'd know that he forgot Valentine's Day. She always knows everything. Seconds later, Stiles came bursting through door, launching himself at his mother's feet. "Mama, I missed you lots today! Look what Papa and I bought you at the store! Isn't it pretty, Mama? It's so your clothes don't get messy when you make me snacks. Do you like it?" Rose looked at Stiles, her beautiful, brown eyes were twinkling as she grabbed Stiles' head between her hands and leaned down to kiss his forehead and whisper, "I love it, my sweet boy. It's perfect." His son gave him a smug look and shoved the pink apron towards his mother's chest. "Papa didn't want to at first but I knew you would, Mama. Here, put it on so you can go make me some mac n' cheese." He demanded. At first, the only response he received was a look of disbelief from his mother and the sheriff had to bite his fist to keep himself from laughing out loud. "Stiles! That's no way to ask for something. Where are your manners, baby? And John, don't encourage him. He'll think it's okay." Rose scolded. Stiles' eyes widened as he looked from Rose to his father, then finally opening his mouth to apologize, looking ashamed while doing so, "Sorry, Mama. Can you make me a sandwich, please? Without the crust?" Rose ran her fingers through Stile's hair and murmured, "That's better. Now, yes. I can. How about you go play outside? I'll call you in when it's ready." Rose hadn't even finished speaking before Stiles was already bounding out the backdoor.
Stiles knocked on the wall of the kitchen just as the sheriff was trying to balance a pancake with the spatula. "Hey, Kiddo. How'd you wake up this morning?" He asked as he divided the breakfast into two separate plates. Stiles eyed the food hungrily before sitting down at the table and taking a deep breath trying to think of how to respond to his dad. "Actually, I slept really well. Like, really really well.I don't think I've ever slept that well since like, ever." He answered. His dad quirked an eyebrow but otherwise, said nothing. The sheriff grabbed the two plates he created and handed one to Stiles. Stiles muttered a quick thanks before digging into his dish. They ate in silence but it wasn't uncomfortable. It had been a while since the father and son had had a normal breakfast together. Once the sheriff was done eating, he grabbed his walkie from the table and placed it in its rightful holder on his belt. "I'm sorry, kid, but I couldn't get today off. It'll probably be a late night, too. I'm gonna get going before the traffic gets too heavy." He said as he grabbed his coat from the hanger and ruffled a hand through Stiles' hair. "I love you. Tell me if you leave the house, okay?" He asked. But the teenager dismissed him with a wave of his hand he became serious. "Stiles, I mean it. Call me if you leave the house. And maybe you should talk to Derek...Just to make things quicker." He sighed as he made his way to the front door.
Stiles still didn't respond. He wasn't sure he could, anyways. He had completely forgotten about what he was going to do about that issue. With a final goodbye, his dad shut the door and locked it. Stiles stared at his half eaten pancakes and suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore. As soon as the police car's engine faded, there was thump from above where his bedroom was located. Stiles' body tensed and he waited a moment, just to see if he had imagined it, but all that kept going through his head was this is isn't over, kid. You tell us where that little lizard mutant is, or we'll kill your pack off one by one. Starting with the weakest puppy of them all. What was his name again? Ah, yes. Isaac. Stiles took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves before tip-toeing to closet in the hallway and grabbing one of the bats that his father kept from when he was a kid and was in a little league baseball team. He secured it in both hands as he creeped his way up the stairs, flinching when one of the steps made a loud creak. As he gets near his room, he hears another thump and thinks, they came back. They came back and now they're gonna show me Isaac's dead body, oh god, I'm a horrible mother. He's having trouble letting air into his lungs and when he finally enters his room, he sees that it's empty. He sets the bat upside down on the floor and lets out a gush of air but then the door shuts behind him and his body goes rigid. He doesn't want to turn around yet, for fear of his thoughts coming true, so instead he keeps facing the window and says, "What the hell do you want from me? I already told you I'm not telling you anything." A hand clamps down on his shoulder and it feels familiar but he's too scared to trust the feeling so he goes with his instincts instead and swings the bat as he turns around, hoping to hit the intruder across the head. What happens instead is he swings the bat and a hand grabs it before he can do much damage. He eyes the hand, he knows that hand, and lifts his gaze to the person he had thought was someone that was ready to hurt him. "Jesus, Derek! What the hell is the matter with you? Couldn't you tell how scared I was?" He yells and Derek just keeps staring at him. He's deadly quiet except for the beginning of a growl that's starting to make the alpha's chest vibrate with the force of it. "Well?" He reprimands, waiting for answer.
Derek continues to be silent. His eyes are still human and they're tracing the outlines of Stiles' face and Stiles is about to say quit staring, when he swiftly remembers that his face is covered in bruises and fuck, he locked the window last night to keep Derek out of his room. Derek must be pissed. "Stiles." Is what finally comes out of the alpha's mouth when he speaks. His voice breaks as he says it and he sounds so guilty and devastated that it makes Stiles want to bash his own head in with the bat that's still between them. Derek's eyes flicker to where his hand is still grasping the piece of wood and he lets go of it. Stiles doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to say anything in fear that he'll spit out the first thing that pops into his brain. I have to break up with you. There's a sudden knot in his throat and he feels the pain as he tries to swallow it down. He knows he has to talk soon. They can't just stand here in the middle of his room forever. He glances one look at the floor and then he's being enveloped in Derek's arms. The grasp the alpha has on his body feels almost suffocating, but it still so nice and warm and safe and he kind of wants to cry. "God, Stiles. I couldn't find you." Derek keens into the crook of his neck. He can feel his boyfriend's (let him think it one more time) ragged breath and the way he keeps inhaling the smell of Stiles' scent. Stiles doesn't know what to say, so he sets on comforting him, "I'm right here, Derek." He soothes. The alpha releases his grip and instead lifts a hand to Stiles' face. He swipes a thumb across a bruised cheek and Derek lets out an inhuman whine as he watches his mate flinch at the pain. Derek is almost feeling too guilt-ridden to remember that he has a good reason to be angry.
He takes a step back observes Stiles' marred face. The anger he started feeling earlier is starting to unsettle his wolf. Get answers, it's ordering him. "Why'd you lock the window, Stiles?" He asks. He doesn't mean to sound so enraged but his wolf needs to know. His human needs to know, too. The teenager doesn't look at him when he says, "I was scared." Stiles isn't stupid. He knows Derek can pick out the lie in his words. He doesn't really even know why he says that in the first place. Upon hearing the lie, Derek feels a sudden need to defend himself. Defend his wolf. "Don't lie, Stiles. I would never hurt you. Ever. You know that. I promised you that would never happen." He snarls back. And there's that word again, Stiles thinks. Promise. Such a horrible word isn't it? Derek is waiting for an answer and Stiles can feel his shields break down. He knows what he has to do. But he just needs this small moment with Derek right now. The alpha's face becomes free of any resentment he had towards Stiles for locking that damn window as the boy stumbles forward and buries his face into Derek's shoulders. His body is shaking but he must not be crying because Derek's shirt feels dry. He wraps his arms around Stiles once again and waits until his mate feels he's strong enough to speak again. Except that Stiles hasn't stopped shaking for 2 minutes now and Derek is more than worried. "Stiles? What's wrong? What did they do to you?" He whispers. Stiles mumbles something into his shirt, buts impossible to understand. "Stiles. I can't understand you." Again, the boy repeats his previous actions and Derek has had enough. He pulls back and lifts Stiles' chin, making his mate meet his gaze. "Talk to me." He begs.
Stiles looks him right in the eye and says, "I'm sorry, Derek. I promised him. My dad, I mean. I promised him to stop seeing you. To stay away from all this werewolf business. I'm sorry." This time, tears do fall from the teen's face as he says what's been bothering him. Derek blinks once, twice, before asking, "What?" Because he must of heard wrong. Stiles couldn't have said what he thought he heard. It doesn't make any sense. Except, deep in his brain, he know it does. Derek knew it was too good to be true. He doesn't deserve happiness, after all. He's put his pack in danger countless of times and now he's done it to his mate's safety as well. Stiles uses the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes and he sounds distressed as he pleads, "God, Derek. Please don't make me say it again." Derek can't help himself. But so what? He gets to be hurt too. "You're taking the easy way out." He growls. "You don't have to do this, Stiles. You don't have to abandon your pack. We can protect you." And the look he receives from the boy makes him feel like he's the stupidest thing in the world. This time when Stiles responds, there's anger evident in his voice, "Why is that always your response when things don't go your way, huh?" He huffs out. He's taking quick breaths and Derek is ready to drop all arguments the moment he feels Stiles' system begin to shut down. "Derek, you don't understand what I had to go through yesterday. My dad-he can't. He needs me. Needs me to be safe. You didn't hear what he sounded like when he asked me to do this. He sounded so-so desperate. God, it was heartbreaking. I can't keep doing this to him, Der. He's my pack too. And it's time I start acting like it. I know you say you can protect me, but Derek, that's not enough. My dad's right. Things need to end between us."
There's a sort of finality in his words that makes Derek realize that Stiles has made up his mind already. He's a stubborn kid and it's one of Derek's favorite things about him, the way he does what he believes is always the best choice, but it's an awful trait to have sometimes. Now, being a perfect example. Neither of them have said anything for a while. Even though there are so many things Derek wants to say, he can't put anything into actual words. Stiles silently walks to the window and lifts it open. If Derek didn't feel like part of his soul just got ripped out of him (which really, it's the same thing with Stiles being his mate and all) he'd laugh at how Stiles chose the window and not the door. "Derek,I just-I need some time alone. I'm sure it would do you some good, too." He states as he signals towards the window. The alpha drags his feet towards him and there's a looke in his eyes that means he's not letting this go. He's not letting Stiles get away. He hops out the window and just when Stiles is about to shut it closed; he reaches a hand around Stiles' neck and draws their foreheads together muttering, "Mates don't give up on each other, Stiles." The teenager tries to push him away, "Derek, don't. Just-please. Go." But his protests are weak and Derek knows how much Stiles needs him to stay right now, and if leaving is what will makes this easier, then he'll do it, but not before murmuring what he's feeling. "God, Stiles. I'm not letting you go. I love you so much." He breathes out. Stiles has both of his eyes shut tight and he's clinging to Derek just as fiercely as the alpha is clinging to him. Derek expects Stiles to say the words back. To say I love you, too like he has done so many times before, but what he says instead is, "Don't hand over, Jackson. Don't let them have him. Help Erica pass her driving test, revise Boyd's essays, and don't let Isaac starve." His words catch Derek off guard and before he realizes it, he's being pushed out the window and he hears a click of a lock.
It wouldn't be hard to get back it, being a werewolf and all, but he needs to respect his mate's choices. Even if it makes his wolf curl into a ball and hide its tail between its legs like some helpless dog.
Quick Note: Okay, so i've been doing some Stiles Winchester AU Photosets on tumblr, (Stiles Winchester is basically Dean And Castiel's son) and i'd just like to know if that's something that you'd like to see in words. Not a chaptered story, but more like different kinds of scenario'd one-shots type of thing. It'd be really helpful if you let me know what you think. Thank You, for reading! I love you all, so much.
heres the link to stiles winchester: hummelstilinski/. /tagged/stiles+winchester
