Hey! Sorry for taking so long with updating this. This isn't even the chapter I wanted to put up next, but I got working on this for a different thing and I decided to use it for multiple stories, because it's damn good, and who doesn't love Stilinski family moments? This is a great chapter, despite that I'm a jackass who never updates. I hate me, and you all have every right to too. Don't hate this though it's great, even if it is a flash back chapter.

Yaoi- Indeed so Yaoi! Sorry for taking so long.

Guest Meow- Ha... ha... haha... *laughs endlessly, because So sorry, but that will never happen*

Guest whose name is now Oooh- Please use the name Oooh if you review again, so I can know it's you! I appreciate the 3 O's! Thank you very much and you're so welcome. A lot of people, I think, have not come to that conclusion yet, but this chapter will hopeful shine a little bit of light.

Raven: Oh nonono! It's not over yet, don't worry!

KC- Hi KC! Yes, I'm so sorry for taking so long. I've had so much going on, and I've been in a pretty bad place overall. RUSHING REALLY DOES HELP MY PROCESS.
It makes me feel terrible and thus makes me work on the story, so guys, Review, message, hit me up on Tumblr (URL in the following paragraph), anything. I will never mention your username or URL in the AN if you message me here or on tumblr, unless you ask me to. My anon is enabled on my Tumblr, so really, I love hearing from you guys, please talk to me about my projects if you're interested in what I'm doing.

(Pre written disclaimer of later reuse!) Variations may be used in other fics, for example my regularly promoted fic Hunters, Angels, Werewolves, Oh My! , and a side project called A Bite By Any Other Name I'll be posting soon, another AU, not crossover, also focusing on Stiles, all I'll say is it IS a Bitten Stiles AU and it does have other Mature topics. I WILL have trigger warning at the beginning of it, so fore warned. I was considering just putting it on Ao3, but I would feel bad about plugging it if I did. BUT I will have it on Ao3 too, since I know that is better for some phones. I will post it on Tumblr if anyone shoots me an ask for it, and I'll then bookmark the post for others, in case anyone rather read it on there. My URL is .com. I love you guys, I love hearing from you, if you can't get me on here, hit me up on there, I swear to check out anyone's blog if they ask!

Warnings: Mentions of and aftermath of abusive parenting, discussion character death, topic of alcoholism, and low self esteem of a main character as a result of abuse! Read with caution.

~.~

John had gone through his supply of whiskey the night before, which had two distinct results. He had woken up with a hammering hangover, that he usually didn't have to deal with considering his tolerance level and that he couldn't now remedy with more alcohol. And he had a rare moment of total sobriety to recall the worse than usual night. Which there was no lack of reminders of. The badly skewed picture frame, glass shattered, family picture warped from wetness now dried, the glass scattered on the floor, the tear stains now dry and uncomfortable on his cheeks, and of course, Stiles' absence at the counter for breakfast: bacon, sausage links, eggs, and chocolate and butterscotch chip pancakes, which he'd half admit to having made out of guilt. His words, though he hardly remembered saying them, ran through his head back to back, phrase by phrase. After cleaning up a majority of the glass from his shattered tumbler, letting the meat burn a little to let out more of the smell and make it crispy like Stiles liked, he finally flicked the flames of the stove off. He grabbed a plate out of the drying rack and dished out some food, and took it up, tapping his knuckles on the door before opening it. He found his son sniffling softly on his bed. He slowly took a seat next to him, setting the plate down on the bedside table. "Hey, kiddo..." Stiles sniffled and shifted, though not actually changing his position. "Stiles, I'm so sorry, son... What I said... was horrible... "

"It's true though..." Stiles sniffled. "I-"

"No. Stiles, no. None of that was true. Stiles, I love you more than anything. Your mother loved you more than anything. And you love us. It's not your-" John paused, feeling tears coming on, and he pulled the boy into his arms. "There's nothing we could've done, Stiles. Nothing the doctors could've done... It wasn't anyone's fault, but especially not yours. You were with her Stiles. That's all you could do for her. You gave her comfort. I never want you to feel like that wasn't enough, because it's more than I did." Stiles hugged his dad back.

"She knew you couldn't be there dad... She said she would've just cried if you were..." John bit his lip and pressed Stiles' head to his chest firmly.

"I know, Stiles... I would've too..." John pulled away, looking Stiles in the eyes. "Stiles, your mom had been sick a long time... Dealing with it since before you were born. Her doctor's said themselves it was a miracle when the symptoms stopped... Even after they came back, I had plenty of time to prepare for this... We knew there was nothing they could do... I just... This is the first time... since I met your mom that I've been as lonely as I have been this last year. That doesn't excuse me acting the way I did last night, or the things I said..." John smiled. "You know, She used to say you were her miracle... When she was pregnant with you, we were worri- we thought- the doctors had told us you'd be stillborn, worried she wouldn't be able to make it through labor... But a month before your due date... she said she didn't think so... She said she was sure you'd be happy and healthy and perfect, and so would she and we'd be a big happy family... And... you were... And as soon as you cried, she was just... glowing. She slept all the next day, and she went into remission... She said you saved her life Stiles... She always loved you. Always." Stiles looked at his lap.

"She thanked me..." Stiles muttered.

"What?"

"Mom... She thanked me... for 'giving her 10 happy healthy years' with us... And 'another 2 happy ones'. She asked me to take care of you..." John nodded, wanting to smile, but too sad to.

"Oh..."

"Dad, you have to promise me you'll get better... Less drinking, no drinking, therapy, whatever you need, I want you to promise me you'll do it... For mom..." John smiled a bit sadly.

"I will... I promise, I'll get better." He smiled a bit more, picking up the plate. "You've gotta eat this downstairs though. Otherwise I'll be getting syrup off your blankets for days." Stiles smiled widely.

"Can I have pop to drink?" John laughed.

"No, I'm not going to curse your teachers like that. How about some Chocolate milk?" Stiles jump happily, rushing down the stairs ahead of him. John followed slowly after thanking, firstly his wife, and then god, for blessing him with such an amazing little boy. When he got downstairs, Stiles sat on a stool at the counter, with a guilty look on his face. John saw glass over on the counter below the glasses cupboard. "Did you break something son?" John asked setting Stiles plate in front of him. Stiles didn't nod, didn't look up, but his expression didn't change.

"I'm sorry..." John shook his head and swept up the glass, trying to decern what had fallen, but not seeing how the pieces could fit together.

"It's fine, Stiles, I can pick it up. It was an accident, I'm not mad, son. " Stiles looked up finally, but not to him. He gave a glance to the cupboard and John's gaze followed his son's. "What is it, Stiles?" Stiles looked back down and John approached the cupboards once he had thrown out the glass. He opened the cupboard and a bit more glass fell but he didn't bother minding it when he saw the state of the glasses, mugs, and cups. All but the plastic-ware and the few mugs of Claudia's that John hadn't put away just to torture himself, everything in the cupboard was shattered, right in the place he'd put them when he put them away. He looked to the other cupboard, where he kept the plates and bowls. He opened the cupboard door and shattered and broken glass and ceramic plates and bowls slid out, shattering on the counter and then on the floor. His son started to cry and he hurried over, sadly making Stiles flinch.

"I'm sorry dad, please don't be mad. I'm sorry." He cried. What? No, that was impossible. Stiles couldn't have done this. It was just impossible. He wasn't even tall enough to reach above the first shelf. Not to mention the way the dishes broke, as if they'd broken in the cupboard where they'd sat. The only explanation was someone broke in at night. He picked up his son, thought he was much too old to be carried.

"It's not your fault, Stiles. We're going to go out for breakfast instead..." Stiles sniffled as he tried to stop sobbing.

"But I'll be late..." The sheriff shook his head. He needed to file a report about this.

"I think you're going to skip school today, Stiles..."