Melissa McCall:
The first time she saw him; he was wearing a large shirt and had an icepack over his eye. Scott was firmly at his side, glaring at anyone who tried to separate the two boys. When she had gotten the story she and Claudia couldn't help but coo over the children's adorableness. She had also noticed how the Sheriff had looked almost proud when the principal told them that young Scott had been being bullied by a classmate when Stiles stepped in and warned the other boy away. When his warning only prompted the bully to shove Scott, the young Stiles drove a fist directly into the bully's nose and fought for what he described as Scott's honor.
From that moment the two families became inseparable, first because the kids never wanted to be far, then because she and Claudia had become thick as thieves. They would joke about how their boys were more like them than their respective fathers.
But then, Claudia died.
She had distanced herself and Scott so the two males could have time to grieve. But when two months had passed and Scott said that his friend had yet to return to school, she grew worried. Steeling herself she left Scott with his father and ventured to her dead friend's home.
It was painful to be near the house she had spent so much time in.
When she knocked on the door, no one answered. Using her spare key she had entered, only to find the place looking relatively normal. She made her way through the familiar house, only to find the Sheriff passed out on the couch, beer bottle clutched in his hands.
Worried, she searched for the young boy she had grown to love. Her search became frantic, until she heard the familiar sounds of someone gasping for air. She had flung open Claudia's closet and found the young boy wrapped in his mother's old blanket, in the midst of a horrendous panic attack.
Her heart cried out for the boy and she leapt foreword, wrapping her arms around him and soothing him, gently coxing him out of the panic he had worked himself into.
He had looked at her with awe in his eyes and asked how she stopped the pain so fast. It broke her heart when she realized the young boy had been dealing with these attacks on his own, locked away in a closet.
She sent out an apology. They had always promised to look out for each other's children. She had done a horrid job, but no more. Lulling the child into sleep, she couldn't help the soft sob that escaped her lips when Stiles had buried his face into her neck and whispered the words, "Thanks mom."
She held onto the child, tears streaming down her face.
With determination she marched to her house and handed the young boy to her husband before turning around and heading back to her best friend's husband. She brought hell down on the grieving husband. Yes, he was hurting, but while he lost a wife, his son lost a mother. It wasn't fair; to tell him he needed to be strong. But, as a parent it was his job to take care of the child, not the other way around.
It wasn't until months later, when Stiles had taken to the cleaning and cooking, that he confessed to Melissa that his son was the one that kept his home together while he stared down the bottom of the bottle.
Her love for the boy expanded further when Scott had his first asthma attack. The young boy clung to his friend, tears streaming down his face, begging God not to take his friend away too. For the next three days Stiles refused to leave Scott's side. Later he confessed that he was afraid that his friend would disappear if he let him out of his sight.
After two months it became apparent that Scott had the tendency to forget his inhaler. When he had an attack during a recess and he didn't have his pump, Stiles marched up to her and demanded he be allowed to carry one for Scott. With all the seriousness of a ten year old he had looked he in the eyes and promised that he would never forget it, that he would always be there when Scott needed him.
It should have been cute, but it was heartbreaking. No matter how much the boy smiled and how well he adjusted to not having his mother around, there was a deep fear in him of losing someone he loved.
She remembered when she and her husband got a divorce. Scott had refused to leave his room, not wanting to speak to anyone. Stiles came by every day and sat outside his door, asking his friend to go outside and play with him. Every time Scott would tell him to leave all Stiles would do is pull out a book and start to read it aloud.
This went on for almost two weeks until Scott broke and opened the door. She had been delighted, until the young Scott threw a fist at his best friend. He began to punch Stiles' chest, arms, anything he could reach. Before she could interfere Stiles wrapped his arms around his friend and pulled him close whispering words that she still remembered. "Hit me if you think it'll help. I was mad too. But it only hurts to be mad, or to cry. So, you gotta smile. Cuz, before you know it. The smiles won't be fake anymore."
Her son had broken down and cried, and Stiles began to cry too. She wasn't ashamed to say that she had tears dripping down her face.
For a while she worried that perhaps Stiles was more invested in the friendship than Scott was. Those worries were put to rest when Stiles had broken his arm. The boy had been playing by the window and had fallen out. When Scott heard, he had been inconsolable. Only when he had seen Stiles for his own eyes did he calm down. Scott had refused to leave his friend's side, and had spent most of his time scolding said friend for being so careless. Then turned and proceeded to scold the Sheriff, telling him that the windows should be more secure and that if anything happened to his friend again he would hunt the Sheriff down and make him pay.
As the two grew they got closer, and more into mischief than she thought was healthy. The two boys were always in and out of trouble, and always together. Things started to change; she knew now that it was when Scott was bitten.
Suddenly, every story didn't involve Stiles. It made her sad, because she missed her second son. But, she got use to the lack of presence.
Finding out her son was a werewolf almost completely pushed Stiles out of her mind. He was just so mature and always could take care of himself; she hadn't thought he needed her.
That changed when she saw him walk into the hospital, eyes glazed, hands shaking. She had lead him to the room, asked him some questions, heart clenching at the answers. She had been ignoring her second son, hadn't noticed that he did need to be looked after. He was, after all, just a boy.
When she had injected him with the sedative she smiled at his words as he was laid down. Tucking him in, she was shocked when he grabbed her hand and held it tightly. His eyes were glazed and in a soft voice she heard words that were heartbreakingly familiar. "Thanks Mom."
He drifted off into sleep and she carefully removed her hand from his grasp and tucked him in. She couldn't believe she had failed not only her friend, but Stiles.
Walking out of the room she took another look at his symptoms. Her heart almost leapt out of her chest when she began to recognize the pattern. Heart beating rapidly in her chest she had gone to the archives and searched for a familiar name. Seeing the identical symptoms made her heart clench. She wished she knew what was wrong, how to save her second son.
The next days passed in a flurry of activity, and before she knew it, they were all looking for Stiles. But, when they finally found him she could only walk forward in a state of shock.
She didn't give birth to him, but that was her son lying on the ground. She stopped a foot away from the body before falling to her knees. She shoved her fist into her mouth and bit harshly, refusing to let out any sound. Tears streamed down her face as she refused to remove her eyes from her son's dead body.
She wondered if Claudia would ever forgive her… She wished she knew if she was waiting for her son, arms open.
Scott's howl ripped her from her thoughts. She crawled towards her son and pulled his sobbing body to her and began to run her hand through his hair. Scott curled into her like he used to when he was a little kid. She wished she could tell him that it would be ok, wished she could make the pain better… But she didn't know how.
The pain she felt was life shattering. Eyes glanced around the small area; no one would ever be the same. Looking back to the last living Stilinski she wondered if she could save him? If she could earn the forgiveness of her friend and her fallen son if she could manage to bring him out of his despair.
She didn't know if she could, but the woman would spend the rest of her life trying… She wouldn't fail again.
She remembered words the boy had once spoken to her… "Death doesn't just happen to the person who dies, it happens to everyone…"
Sheriff Stilinski:
He had always thought that people were exaggerating when they said that a person didn't know true love until they held their child for the first time. He also refused to believe in love at first sight. Love was something that happened gradually… But, he was proven wrong.
When the doctors had handed him the seven pound wiggling bundle he looked into those brown eyes and knew those people were right. He loved this child with every fiber of his being. There was nothing more perfect that his large eyed baby. Feeling a strange urge, he placed a kiss to that small forehead. When he had brought the child to his wife and asked who she thought he looked like more she snorted and gave him a grin. "He looks more like a pruney raisin."
From that moment they had become a real family. Taking his son home and building their lives was amazing. On Stiles' first day of pre-K he was the one who tried to come up with reasons why they should wait an extra year. His wife manhandled him into the car and brought their son to school. It was with tears in his eyes and a kiss to the forehead that he sent his son off to school. He sulked that entire day.
It was three weeks into the school year when he first met Scott and Melissa. The two had become permanent fixtures in his life. He couldn't help but be happy that his wife and son both seemed to have finally found their best friends.
But then, he lost Claudia.
He hated himself for forgetting his son, but the boy didn't complain. Didn't cry with him or ask him for comfort. He just smiled brightly and cleaned up any mess he made. He hated himself for thinking that his son was too stupid to understand that his mother was gone forever.
It wasn't until Melissa ripped him a new one that he realized what he was doing. She had told him about the panic attacks he felt guilt. Claudia would have hated him for doing this to their son.
She had kept Stiles for two weeks, making sure that he had cleaned himself up. When he saw his son smiled so brightly at him, screaming happily and running towards him, he couldn't help but cry. He apologized over and over again. But his son didn't cry. He ran his small hands through his hair in a clumsily comforting manner. "It's ok daddy. Everyone gets sad. But you don't worry. I promised Mommy that I would always take care of you." His arms had tightened around his son when the young boy placed a kiss on his forehead.
He tried to be a father to the young boy. But something between them broke while he was drinking. He tried so hard, but there was something between them that he could never fix… And that hurt.
Years passed and he found himself with a hyperactive troublesome son. The boy couldn't go two days without getting into some sort of trouble. But, as Stiles grew… He saw more and more of Claudia in him. Everything from the way the boy waved his arms to make a point, to the sarcasm that seemed to drip from every word he spoke. His wife was alive in his son, and even though he was always in some sort of trouble, he loved him.
But, things started getting worse. His son would stay out, ignore his calls. The trouble started going from little pranks to felonies. He was so frustrated with his child. They hadn't been best friends, but he knew his son… It seemed like every day his son drifted further and further away. It began to hurt whenever they spoke. They would both know that the words spilling from his mouth were lies, but Stiles would still continue his stories.
When he thought something happened to him during the lacrosse game he felt dread pool in his stomach. Regardless of their failing friendship, he needed his son, loved him more than life itself.
This incident had brought them closer. It was almost like it was before. But, then the lies began again, and they began to drift once more.
Until his son began to talk to him, to say all these crazy things about Supernatural beings. He had yelled, had refused to believe his son, had even briefly considered having him checked, but the whispered admission that his mother would have believed him hurt.
And as he went around, doing his job. He couldn't help but think the boy was right. His mother wouldn't have even questioned it.
It wasn't until the Darach had kidnapped him, did he realize his mistake. His son had finally told him, had finally relied on him, and he called him a liar. He couldn't help but think the last words he will ever have spoken to his son were ones said in anger.
When they had gotten out of that situation, they had sat together and talked. It was one of the best moments in his life. His son told him everything, even the annoying tidbit of Derek Hale hiding in their home while he was a fugitive. For the first time since Claudia's death, he felt like he had his son back.
Then, the nightmares began. He could only think that this was the beginning of the end.
That first scream had him leaping from his bed and into his son's room, looking for danger, only to notice his independent son weeping. He leapt into action and wrapped his arms around his son, whispering comforting words, all the while thinking that there was something familiar about the scene.
Stiles had drifted off and he had carefully tucked his son back in, placing a kiss to his forehead.
He had treaded lightly around his son that following morning, wondering if his son would bring it up. But the boy looked as hyper as always, smile plastered on his face as he ranted about something him and Scott were planning.
It seemed just like a nightmare, and he was relieved… Until it happened again four nights later. He had once again rushed into his son's room and brought the boy into his arms.
It continued, gap between nightmares becoming smaller. It wasn't till the third night in a row that he sat at the edge of his bed, waiting for his son's dreadful cries. When the cries began he dashed into the boy's room and wrapped him in his arms. Unlike the other times, Stiles struggled, clawed at his arm.
It was then that he realized why it felt so familiar.
Claudia had gone through the same thing before he lost her. She was plagued with horrible dreams. She began to lose sight of the differences between dream and reality.
When Stiles calmed down, he didn't let go. He held on tighter and prayed that he wouldn't lose his son the way he did his wife. Prayed that this time would be different.
It wasn't until the son began to peak over the horizon that he finally let his son go, tucking him safely into bed. His hand shook as he tried to get ready. "Please don't take my son from me." He pleaded on last time before getting ready for work.
When he had gotten the text message from Melissa about Stiles being sedated, it made his stomach drop.
But, when he heard his son was missing… He regretted the harsh way he treated young Lydia and the other teens. But, his son was missing again.
They had searched each person frantic to find the hyper teen…. But they didn't find him until it was too late.
Seeing that body on the floor… It couldn't be true.
He moved towards the body, his legs gave out and he landed on his ass. It wasn't real…
It wasn't until Scott tried to reach for his son did he act. He slapped away the teen's hand, anger welling inside him. If Stiles had never become friends with Scott, he would still be alive. He knew the anger at the teen was unreasonable, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.
He pulled his son's frail body towards him. His arms almost covered the boy's body. It wasn't true, it couldn't be.
That morning's smile couldn't be the last. Last night's argument over the healthy food should be happening again that night.
He didn't get to see him graduate. He didn't send him off on his first date, or give him the proper talk about treating his boyfriend or girlfriend right. Didn't get to tease him about how he knew Stiles was gay longer than he did, or tell his girlfriend about all the embressing things he had done in his childhood. He wouldn't be at his wedding, wouldn't get his grandkids.
It wasn't meant to be this way. A parent should never have to witness their child's death. He was supposed to grow old knowing Stiles would always be there to look out for him.
Looking at his son he began to shake his shoulder. "Wake up. This is your worst prank… Stiles…" His voice got louder. "WAKE UP! STILES! ITS NOT FUNNY!" As he yelled the words, tears began to stream down his face.
He allowed a pained cry to leave his lips. "No… No… Please…. Please don't do this… Don't take him from me… I'll do anything…. Please…" He pleaded. "Don't take him too…."
So, I posted chapter two and I just… I felt the need to write. So, here is part three.
That really hurt to write.
Yes, at one point I stole from the movie Frozen.
And one more thing; I think there will be one more chapter to this story… No, I'm certain there will be. I know it won't be out before Monday, but it will come.