Stiles was a lonely kid, especially since he only had one friend. Scott, a shy latino boy with severe asthma was his best friend since they were four.
One night in his bedroom, Stiles became convinced that there was someone in his closet. He stared into the darkness, flinching as he thought he saw something move through the partially closed door. He heard the rattle of his hangers brush against each other.
Stiles screamed. His dad ran in, wearing his Sheriff's uniform, and tried to comfort his son. Stiles looked terrified, as he wrapped his arms around his dad's neck.
"Stiles? Are you okay?" He asked, concerned. "Did you have a nightmare?" He asked.
"Daddy, there's someone in my closet!" Stiles whispered, clinging to his dad's shirt. He twisted around to glance back at the inky darkness.
John Stilinski pulled the gun from his holster, and stood up. He walked forward, eyes trained on the partially closed door of the closet.
"Son, get behind me." He ordered, kicking open the closet door. It was empty. Stiles' shirts hung from the metal hangers, and boxes of books and toys filled the closet, but nobody was hiding there.
John sighed, and put away his gun. "I have to go to work now," He said, plugging in his son's nightlight. "The babysitter is already here. You remember Jamie, right? The college kid?" He said, kissing his son on the forehead. "I'll be back in a few hours. Goodnight, Stiles."
"Bye dad," Stiles said, his eyes never leaving his closet. He crawled into bed, grabbing his batman toy, and a book.
Stiles was engrossed in his book, when he suddenly heard the floorboards near his bed creak. The padding of feet, like someone was walking towards him. Stiles dropped the book, and covered his hands over his eyes.
"Monsters aren't real." He whispered, repeatedly. "Monsters aren't real."
Stiles opened his eyes, and realized with shock he was sitting a foot away from a large, black wolf.
"Whoa!" Stiles said, scrambling backwards. He grabbed his book, and tried to swing it at the animal.
The wolf cocked his head to the side, as he watched the small boy swing at him. His tail thumped against the floorboards. The wolf blinked his large eyes, as the boy slowly edged forward.
"Here, boy." Stiles said, sticking his hand out. The wolf licked him, then jumped up on the bed. Stiles laughed as the wolf curled around him, like an over-sized dog.
Stiles was half-asleep, when he realized that the coarse fur underneath him had suddenly vanished. Stiles glanced up, and realized that instead of the wolf, Stiles was curled up against a man in a black t-shirt, and jeans. Stiles sat up, and nudged the man awake.
"Where's the wolf?" Stiles asked, confused. "Who are you?"
"I am the wolf." He replied, his voice low. "Sometimes I look like a person, sometimes I look like an animal."
"Oh." Stiles said, yawning.
"I'm Derek." The man said, smiling at him. "I'm a werewolf." The man's eyes suddenly changed colour, turning to a bright yellow hue.
"Cool!" Stiles said,sitting up. "Maybe I should tell Jamie." He said. "I don't think I should have a stranger in my room."
"She can't see me. Only you can." Derek said, his face serious. "She won't believe you."
Stiles reached out and touched the stubble on Derek's face. The coarse hair tickled his fingertips, and he laughed.
"Of course she can see you, you're real." Stiles said, jumping off the bed.
"I'm invisible to adults. Only you can see me, Stiles." Derek told him, following him into the hallway.
"How do you know my name?" Stiles asked, surprised.
"I heard your dad talking to you, when I was hiding in your closet." Derek said.
"That was you? My dad checked, he said the closet was empty!" Stiles whispered. "You scared me, you know."
"Your dad can't see me." Derek said.
Derek went back into Stiles' room, and picked up the book Stiles' had been reading earlier.
"Aren't you coming downstairs?" Stiles asked. "I want to introduce you to Jamie."
"Don't bother." Derek said. "She won't see me."
Jamie was sitting at the kitchen table, her psychology textbook open. She uncapped her highlighter, and started to mark up the page. Stiles sidled up beside her, and looked down at her textbook. Jamie stopped marking up her book, and looked down at him.
"Jamie, there was a werewolf in my room." Stiles told her, sitting at the table.
Jamie tucked her frizzy black hair behind her ear, and smiled at him. "Really?" she said, in a slightly condescending tone. "Did he bite you?"
Stiles shook his head. "He can turn into a man, and an animal. Can I show you?" He asked.
"You know werewolves don't exist, right? Were you watching scary tv lately?" She asked, following him upstairs to his bedroom.
"I'm not allowed to." Stiles said.
Derek was sitting cross-legged on Stiles' bed. Stiles pointed to him.
"Can you see the werewolf?" He asked.
"No, sorry." Jamie said, smiling down at him.
Stiles walked forward, and put his hand on Derek's shoulder. "Look." He said. "He's sitting on my bed."
Jamie turned around and walked back downstairs. "I have to study, Stiles. Get some sleep." She said.
"Why can't she see you?" Stiles asked, after Jamie had gone downstairs.
"I told you – she's an adult."
"So?"
"Grown-ups can't see imaginary friends. We're invisible to them." Derek told him.
"Can other kids see you?" Stiles asked, sitting beside him on the bed.
"Sometimes." Derek said, smiling.
