When Stiles is eight he learns that nothing will be the same.
It isn’t because his mom dies.
(Although it changes everything, it’s still mundane. A terrible and boring tragedy.)
His dad comes home one day after work and sits Stiles down for a talk.
He explains that werewolves and all the monsters are real.
They’re real and not hiding under anyone’s bed anymore.
That they aren’t really monsters but nice people like the Hales.
His dad says that because he’s the sheriff and it’s his responsibility to protect the town, he has to become a werewolf.
Stiles doesn’t understand.
Werewolves sound cool but his dad said he might die when Talia bites him. That has Stiles sobbing and begging his dad not to do it.
His dad won’t listen. Says that he has to think of the whole town. If he doesn’t take the bite, he won’t be allowed to be sheriff anymore.
Who’ll protect the town then?
Stiles doesn’t care about the town.
Doesn’t care if he sounds selfish because he’s already lost his mom and needs to keep his dad.
His dad takes the bite and turns into a werewolf.
Stiles doesn’t hate werewolves because they’re monsters, but because they tried to take his dad.
Because, as he later finds out, they did take his dad.
He just didn’t know it yet.
When Stiles meets Alpha Hale, he’s grumpy and angry.
His dad spent the past two days lecturing him on his behaviour. Now that he’s a werewolf, Alpha Hale is his new boss or something.
His dad is in her pack and since Stiles is his son, he’s now a human member of the Hale pack.
Stiles doesn’t know what any of that means.
So Stiles has to be on his best behaviour and be very polite.
He already hates her for trying to take his dad.
Stiles has always been a precocious kid. He’s stubborn and tends to do what he wants. His dad learned that it’s easier to contain his chaos than try to control him.
Stiles isn’t respectful to Alpha Hale.
She has to give him a bite to make him officially part of the pack and he kicks her in the shin.
Her eyes glow a demonic red and he glares because he might be scared but he’s angrier by far.
His dad spanks him for the first time in his life.
It’s how Stiles learns that the werewolves took his dad.
Stiles had only one friend.
Scott.
Scott had bad asthma.
Had bad asthma because it’s cured when he takes the bite and becomes a werewolf.
This is how the werewolves took his only friend.
They live in Hale territory and the alpha’s in charge. Not the mayor.
He’s told all the time that he’s lucky to be in the pack and Hale territory. There are a lot of supernatural territories where the humans are treated much, much worse.
Stiles is pretty sure the best place to be a human is in one of the human territories.
The Hales let non-pack humans govern themselves, as long as people like his dad enforce their rules. He also enforces the human rules.
Pack law takes precedence, though.
And no one in the pack is subject to human rules.
It’s why nothing is done when he calls Child Services himself to report his dad for spanking him.
He knows hitting kids is wrong. His dad told him that.
But his dad is a werewolf and Stiles guesses it’s okay now or whatever.
Because Stiles is part of the pack, he’s treated better than the humans who aren’t.
That only matters in school. Where his old bully Jackson knows better than to pick on him. He’d done it once and their werewolf principal had spanked him until he cried.
Inside the pack, Stiles is treated like unwanted garbage.
He gets lessons on pack life and etiquette.
Pack members are supposed to be close. They touch a lot and scent each other all the time.
No one touches or scents him other than his dad.
No matter how much Alpha Hale growled, he’d never apologized for kicking her.
And because she doesn’t like him, no one is willing to be his friend.
Not even his old friend Scott.
Who told Stiles that if he stopped being so stubborn, he’d see that the pack was awesome.
They haven’t spoken since.
As he gets older, he learns the history of how the world changed.
How supernatural beings decided they’d had enough of humans killing the planet. Of having to live by human rules. Of being hunted by humans.
They’d used human weapons – like bombs – to wipe out most of the hunters around the world in a single, coordinated strike.
They didn’t want war or to rule humans. They just wanted to be free to live openly and by their own rules.
Stiles thinks werewolves are like zombies. They infect and spread with a bite and it makes them an unbeatable foe.
One bite and an enemy is now your soldier.
Then there were the people like Scott, who embraced being a werewolf because it cured their disease.
Stiles doesn’t blame them.
He’d have wanted his mom to get the bite, if it meant he could’ve kept her.
It’s a point of pride for him to do well in school.
It’s pointless because he won’t be allowed to go to college.
The alpha would have to negotiate his safe passage and she won’t do that for him.
They still don’t get along.
His dad has basically washed his hands of Stiles.
He’s Alpha Hale’s beta first and he’s Stiles’ father second.
Stiles has known this since the first time his dad’s hand struck his ass.
His dad would’ve never done that.
But she said that betas had to respect the alpha, even if they were children.
Stiles exists on the edge of the pack and doesn’t care.
He aches with loneliness.
Everything changes again when he’s sixteen.
Alpha Hale’s son, Derek, comes home from college.
He comes home, scents Stiles, and claims him as his mate.
Stiles learned about mates.
Each wolf gets one and they identify their mate by scent.
It’s an honour and a blessing and blah blah fucking blah.
He hadn’t paid much attention. Stiles was not going to be anyone’s mate.
He was wrong.
It causes an uproar.
The least liked pack member getting chosen by the alpha’s son?
Stiles wants nothing to do with Derek but enjoys the chaos it causes.
It’s all futile. The instinct can’t be denied.
At least Derek can’t deny it.
Stiles is human and he can deny it.
So he does.
Stiles can begrudgingly recognize that Alpha Hale isn’t a dictator and the pack isn’t so bad. They don’t believe in mating by force.
He’s allowed to say no.
He says it vocally and often.
Stiles ignores Derek’s beautiful, sad eyes.
Ignores the pleading of Alpha Hale, his dad, and everyone else in the pack.
A wolf rejected by their mate will never be happy.
Stiles thinks that’s fair because he hasn’t been happy since his mom died and werewolves took his dad.
“Why do you hate werewolves so much?” Derek asks.
“You know? I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that. I hate werewolves because you’ve taken everything I’ve ever loved from me. You take humans into your pack and expect them to behave like wolves. Because fuck you, that’s why,” Stiles says, glaring.
Derek nods, “Will you ever accept me as your mate?”
“No.”
Derek leaves.
Stiles has been alone and lonely for so long that a small part of him, one that he tries to deny and ignore, appreciates Derek’s silent shadowing.
Guy is a total creeper and follows Stiles around as he works.
He’s finished high school and is assigned menial jobs around the territory.
“Did you want to go to college?” Derek asks out of the blue.
“Yes. But I’m not allowed because your mom hates me,” Stiles replies.
“That isn’t why,” Derek says.
“No?” Stiles asks, incredulous.
“You’re not allowed because you hate her and because you challenge her authority,” Derek explains.
Stiles snorts, “Bah. Same difference. And like the hate of a kid is a real challenge.”
“Almost any other alpha would’ve killed you by now.”
“Ha! So, what? She gets an award for not being a minimally decent human being?” Stiles scoffs.
“No. Because we aren’t human. She’d get an award for being an alpha so strong that she can let you live, despite your hatred and disobedience. Sending you to college would be about the same as killing you herself,” Derek says.
For all that Stiles has learned about packs, he’s never bothered to understand them.
He suddenly wonders what else he’s gotten wrong.
Before, Stiles had thought he was disliked and ostracized.
It doesn’t compare to what it’s like since he rejected Derek.
Despite everything, his dad had tried. They’d still lived in their house.
Been together, inasmuch as a father who isn’t a father can be with a kid who’s come to hate him can be.
His dad kicked him out of the house.
Stiles is forced to live in the cramped, communal housing with pack members he doesn’t like and who don’t like him.
Everyone there pretends he doesn’t exist.
They’ll actually sit on him when he’s eating at the table.
He doesn’t eat at the table anymore.
Perhaps one of the few things he likes about his silent shadow is the buffer he creates.
Of course, everyone is totally willing to talk with Derek.
Although Derek isn’t much of a talker.
Stiles used to be a talker.
When he still had anyone remotely interested in listening.
Wolves are a physical bunch.
He figures it’s because they heal fast and pain is fleeting.
They have no problems slapping him and walking away if his babbling irritates them.
Stiles is stubborn.
He probably would’ve persisted.
Until he found out that his dad was also punished for his disobedience.
He hates his dad.
He loves his dad.
(He doesn’t want to see him hurt.)
Stiles gets used to Derek’s silent presence.
It takes the edge off his loneliness.
It’s been years since he’s had a friendly touch.
He sometimes dreams of Derek hugging him.
Derek never does.
Stiles never asks.
Sometimes he thinks he only keeps living out of sheer stubborn pride.
He thinks about the years, months, days, hours, minutes of this bleak emptiness left.
It makes him want to…
Stiles always shakes off those thoughts.
Some days it takes longer than others.
“Why haven’t you given up?” Stiles asks one day.
“You’re my mate. I’ll always want to be with you. If this is all I can have, then I’ll live with it,” Derek replies.
“What does it even mean? If your mom could take my dad, why not you?”
“She didn’t take your dad,” Derek says.
“Fuck you! The bite could’ve killed him. When it didn’t, he became her beta first and my dad second,” Stiles shouts.
“Aren’t you tired of holding onto this grudge?” Derek wonders.
“I was a kid! I was angry and a kid and your mom hasn’t stopped punishing me since,” Stiles hisses.
Derek shrugs, “My mom has been as lenient with you as she can. She’s never forced you to submit. Hasn’t tried to turn you. Hasn’t stripped your memories. She’s let you be angry and defiant. Your dad’s begging and good service has kept you alive and freer than most believe you should be.”
“And you want me to be grateful for that? All of this has been inhumane.”
“We aren’t human and humans aren’t any better,” Derek shrugs, “I only wish I’ll be as strong as my mom someday. Strong enough to resist or ignore my instincts. I’d be able to give you more space.”
“So you want to give up?” Stiles says with triumph.
“No. But it hurts to be around you when you smell so miserable and lonely but I can’t do anything about it. Everything in me wants to make you feel better. And I know that my being around doesn’t help. Hurting you, hurts me,” Derek’s eyes are so sad that Stiles has to look away.
Stiles is angry and bitter but isn’t cruel or mean.
Doesn’t like hurting someone else.
He softens the smallest of increments towards Derek.
Derek never pressures him.
It makes Stiles edgy and irritated because it would make it easy for Stiles to stay angry and hate him.
Sure, the guy never leaves him alone but he never crowds.
Never pressures.
Rarely initiates conversations.
He’s just there.
All the time.
For a kid who grew up alone and lonely, it means something.
That Derek never pressures him when he could, when a lot of the pack members ask why he hasn’t… it means something.
Stiles doesn’t want it to mean anything.
(It does.)
Sometimes Stiles amuses himself by thinking that their roles are reversed.
He’s the wild animal and Derek is taming him.
In a way, he supposes it might actually be true.
As far as most of the pack is concerned, he’s a feral human who’s forgotten how to be civilized.
Stiles sees it as holding onto his humanity.
The world is strange and new.
A part of him is trying to be the kid his mom remembers.
(Except she’d forgotten him, in the end.)
It’s his mom’s birthday and he misses her so much.
He was so young when she died. He barely remembers her.
Stiles remembers softness and warmth.
Remembers her singing.
Remembers that he felt happy and loved.
“Can I hug you?” Derek asks from behind him.
Stiles is stubborn.
He’s strong.
But, god, he’s so tired of being lonely.
Tired of being angry and bitter.
So he nods.
Strong arms wrap around him from behind. Derek is a hot, solid body behind him.
His skin feels like it’s burning. It’s been so long since anyone touched him with kindness and care.
Silent tears trickle from his eyes.
Derek smells really good.
Nothing changes after that day.
Everything changes after that day.
Stiles feels like Derek has slowly (so slowly) eroded his shell.
The tide polishing broken glass.
That hug was the gentlest of taps and it cracked him wide open.
Derek still doesn’t push.
Doesn’t take one hug as permission to take over Stiles’ life.
But Stiles catches himself turning towards Derek, a comment on his lips.
Sometimes a hand reaching out, searching.
He always stops himself.
It feels inevitable now, though.
The tide can’t be denied.
(Neither can the moon.)
When it happens, it happens all at once.
Like a rockslide, Stiles thinks.
Erosion.
Seems fine until a single pebble causes it to all fall apart.
He realizes, suddenly, that the only person he’s hurting is himself.
And Derek.
These years of bitterness and anger have driven everyone away.
There isn’t anyone to fight.
No enemy.
Nothing.
You can’t fight and win against apathy.
He’s been so blinded by his anger, that he never noticed his opponent already left the field.
He’s fought and fought and fought:
He’s too exhausted to fight anymore.
Derek’s smile, the day he stops fighting, is radiant.
The breaking dawn after a long, cold night.
He turns towards Derek.
Holds out a hand.
Says a single word:
“Yes.”
Everything changes.
Nothing changes.
Derek holds him as he sleeps.
There are gentle kisses and hand-holding.
Sometimes he begs Derek to pin him down and make him take it.
Sometimes Derek is so soft and sweet that he cries.
He apologizes to Alpha Hale because he loves Derek more than he wants to hold onto childish anger.
He refuses to talk to his dad. Or his old friend, Scott.
The pack acknowledges him now but he doesn’t acknowledge them.
He knows it hurts his mate.
He hates himself for it.
Maybe in another ten years, he’ll learn how to bend a little bit more.
Derek never asks him to change.
Never pressures him.
It’s why Stiles fell in love with him.
Why loving him doesn’t feel like surrender.