Stiles watched his mother silently. She'd listened as Derek explained what had happened as best he knew. Stiles hadn't been interested in filling in the details Derek hadn't figured out on his own. His mother had been calm, a steady wall as wave after wave of revelations crashed against her. She was so strong. She only reacted once, when Derek had started talking about what he thought Stiles had been through, she'd reached out and taken hold of Stiles's hand.
Derek had been gone for about an hour. He'd promised Stiles that he'd return after he met up with his sister. Stiles knew that something was wrong though. Derek had smelled afraid when he read the message she'd sent him on the phone.
"I want to make you something to eat," Claudia said, cutting through his thoughts.
He didn't look away from her, hadn't been able to look away since Derek had left. His stomach rumbled loudly. She laughed, stood up and ruffled his short hair. He followed her as she walked around behind the counter. She clucked her tongue but didn't tell him to sit down. He didn't want to be away from her, didn't want to let her out of his sight. When he woke up, he wanted to keep all the memories of this dream.
She pulled out a variety of ingredients from the cooler. She'd said that the bakery was partially a café now. He sniffed at the food. She handed him a slice of turkey. He ate it so fast he wasn't even sure what it tasted like. His mother reached out, brushed a hand across his cheek. He turned his face into the touch, still awed by how good she smelled. She handed him a few more pieces of turkey. He ate them with just as much excitement as the first.
"I see your appetite is as big as ever." She laughed, patted his shoulder.
Stiles watched, enthralled as she crafted him an enormous sandwich. He didn't even know if he'd be able to put it in his mouth. He couldn't wait to try. There was bread, tomatoes, mustard, pickles, things he'd not eaten in years. He was practically drooling.
His mother began to hum, the tune of a song from his childhood, the song that had kept him alive. Tears began to stream down his face. His mother turned to look at him when he began to sniffle.
"Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes," she sang. She drew him in, pulled his head to her chest. "Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine."
Memories flooded through him, a baby elephant trying desperately to get to his mother. Unable to reach her son the mother elephant had stuck her trunk through the bars of the window, brushed her baby's head with it. It had been one of his favorite cartoons, a lifetime ago. Soft hands stroked his hair.
"Little one when you play, don't mind what you say. Let those eyes sparkle and shine. Never a tear, baby of mine." His mother's singing was beautiful. She clung to him desperately, crushing him against her body. He didn't care about the sandwich anymore. He just wanted to stay in her arms.
"If they knew sweet little you, they'd end up loving you too, all those people who scold you. What they'd give just for the chance to hold you." She paused, took a shaky breath. Tears slipped down her face.
"I l-love you," Stiles whispered, turned his head to hide his crying in the front of her apron. "I m-m-missed you…" He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. His throat hurt, he still wasn't used to talking, wasn't sure he ever would be again.
She stroked his hair, rocked them gently back and forth. "From your head to your toes, you're not much goodness knows, but you're so precious to me, cute as can be, baby of mine."
The singing ended, but the memories were still there, still pushing aside all the bad things that happened to him. His mother started crying, full throated, raw, body shaking with the force of it. Stiles pulled back, tried to sooth her. He ran his hands over her hair. She buried her face against his shoulder.
"I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered, "I knew you weren't dead." Her fingers curled into the back of his shirt. "A mother always knows, knows when her baby is in danger. I didn't know what to do."
He kissed the side of her head, breathed in the lavender scent of her hair. He needed her to understand, needed her to know what was in his heart. He didn't have the words, didn't know how to make her see.
"Y-you kept me a-a-alive." Stiles tried to swallow, his throat constricted. "I-I just…" He squeezed his eyes closed. "N-n-need you…"
It wasn't enough, there was so much, so much she didn't know, didn't know what he'd been through. He never wanted her to know. He just wanted her to love him, to tell him it would be alright. He wanted her to make him sandwiches, and yell at him if he did something wrong. He wanted to watch cartoons with her, eat cookies she baked. He wanted her to sing to him some more, to pat him on the head. He wanted all the years back that had been stolen from him. He wanted another chance at growing up.
His mother pulled away, gripped the sides of his face so he would look into her eyes. He opened them, heart racing for a moment, terrified to see something other than her warm brown eyes looking at him.
"I'm never going to let you go, honey. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."
He blinked away tears. She laughed, wiped his face with a napkin from the counter then did the same for herself. He smiled at her. Her whole face lit up. Happiness rolled off her in waves, flooded his senses. He grinned, it made everything better. She made everything better.
Her hand slipped from his face, wrapped around the back of his head, slipped down over the scars on the back of his neck. His body vibrated for a moment, his grin slipped away. The scars on his neck, he couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Horror picked at the edges of his consciousness, tried to snake its way around his mind, crush it with looping coils of fear.
"Stiles? Stiles, honey, what's wrong?"
The scent of panic, of sudden fear flooded the bakery, tore away the smells of turkey, bread, and fresh vegetables. His mother's fear, the scent drove him wild, whipped at his mind. She was afraid. His mother was afraid.
He wasn't in the bakery anymore, he was in the deepest parts of his mind, the most terrible memories he couldn't shake away. It was worse now though, she was there with him, suffering with him. He remembered Allison pushing the hot coal into his mouth, only this time it wasn't him. Allison was doing it to his mother, he couldn't do anything. He was chained to the ground like a dog, unable to get close enough, choking himself trying to reach them.
He felt it roll over him, the wolf transformation. The fingers pulled away from his scars, the feral part of his mind wanted to flee, wanted to run away, didn't want to see the fear in his mother's eyes. The moment had come, it had been an accident, but he was going to lose her. She was going to see that he was a monster. He pulled away, dropped down to all fours. He was going to flee. He needed to get away from her before she saw what he really was.
"STILES STILINSKI!"
The yell froze him in place. He almost tripped over his own hands and feet. He dipped his head, turned back and looked at his mother's shoes.
"I don't know what you think you're doing, but you're not going outside until you eat!"
The words, they were so inappropriate to the situation, didn't fit what was going on. He dropped from the crouch he was in to sit cross-legged on the floor, stunned by the command. He watched as her feet got closer. She dropped down onto the floor in front of him, arranging her dress and apron as she leaned against the counter. She placed a paper towel over his leg, set the sandwich down on it.
"I'm sorry," she said, "It was just the first thing that came to mind."
He looked up at her, she wasn't afraid, wasn't terrified of the wolf in him. She reached out, brushed one of her hands over the point of his ear. He glanced down at his hands, at the wicked claws sprouting from his fingers. She let go of his ear, held his hand. There was still no smell of fear.
"You can't scare me away. I love you, all of you," she said.
He glanced up at her, his golden eyes watching her brown ones. She let go of his hand, flicked him in the nose. He was startled for a moment. Then he did something he hadn't expected to do. He laughed. He laughed loudly. He laughed so hard his belly started to ache, for the first time in a long time it was aching because of something other than hunger or pain.
It took a few moments but soon his mother was laughing with him. He didn't realize that he'd changed back until his mother pushed a small bottle of chocolate milk into his hand. He looked at the bottle, looked at where his claws had been.
Stiles glanced at his mother. She had a small smile on her face. She winked at him. Suddenly, it didn't matter that he was a monster, didn't matter that he'd been tortured. All that mattered was that she still loved him, still wanted to take care of him. It was enough for him that she loved him despite all the bad things that came with him.
"I love you too, mom." He watched her, she watched him back. It was perfect.
"You still have to eat before you can go outside," she said.