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Stiles loved the weekends. He loved being able to sleep in, instead of getting up at six in the morning to go to freaking school. He loved being able to stay in his pajamas all day and eat pancakes and cheetos. And he really, really, really loved that sometimes his mama would take him to the reserve.
See, Stiles’ mama was a wolf conserva... conversationalist? Yes. She was a wolf conversationalist, and that meant that she worked on a wolf reserve! With real wolves! Most of the time, Stiles wasn’t allowed to go, because he was at school. But sometimes, on the weekends, they would pack up the Jeep and drive down to the reserve so that he could see the wolves and how big they were.
And they were going today!
“Mama! Mama! I’m ready to go, I’m ready to go!” The eight year old threw open the door to his mother’s bathroom, jumping up and down excitedly, while she did her makeup. The dark haired woman eyed him with a smirk, nodding her head.
“Did you put your shoes on and everything?”
“YES, MAMA, DUH!” Dressed in his favorite Superman shirt and red hoodie (with matching red and white Adidas) he jumped up and down a few more times. Like, maybe the extra movement would help her see that he was, in fact, totally ready to go. She was the one slowing down this process with her stupid makeup. Girls were so silly.
With a chuckle, she said, “Take the keys and go wait in the car. Turn the radio on if you want to. I’ll be down there in just a couple of minutes, I promise.”
Happily, Stiles darted off out of the room, grabbing his mother’s keychain off the kitchen counter and skipping to the car. He climbed into the passenger side of the old blue Jeep, twisted the keys in the ignition like his mama had taught him, and fiddled with the radio until he found a song he liked.
It hadn’t always been just him and his mama. When Stiles was born, he’d had a dad, too. He remembered that his dad was really good at giving him hugs, and playing Superman, and he always read him Where The Wild Things Are as many times as he wanted him to (which was usually at least five.)
Stiles had loved his dad, very, very much. But then he’d gotten sick, and he’d had to move out of their house and into the hospital. The doctors said that they’d done everything they could to make him better, but none of the medicine worked. Eventually, he’d gone up to Heaven. And now it was just the two of them.
But that was okay! Stiles was never lonely. He had his mama, and his best friend, Scott, and Scott’s mom, too. (Scott didn’t have a dad, either. That’s why they were best friends.) Sometimes he got sad that he didn’t have a dad, like on father’s day, or on Career Day last year when stupid Tommy Phillip’s dad the stupid racecar driver had come in and talked to them.
But then he remembered what a cool mom he had. How many moms got to work with real, live wolves?!
Speaking of, the woman appeared, walking down the front porch steps, and she slid into the car with Stiles, turning down the radio just a smidge. “Seatbelt.” She reminded him, and he rolled his eyes but put his on anyways.
The entire drive there, he bounced in his seat, licking his lips excitedly and watching out for the big green and yellow sign that said “Beacon Hills Wolf Habitat.” When he saw it, he practically screamed, trying to wrench off his seatbelt before they were even properly parked, tumbling out of the car so quickly that he fell on his hands and knees, and his mama screamed, “STILES!” He just grinned in her direction, showing off the gap in the front where he’d lost a tooth last week, before darting inside the main office.
“Hi, Miss Martin!” Stiles said cheekily, walking over to the red headed woman who worked up front. She beamed when she saw him, bending down to pinch his cheek softly.
“Stiles! You’ve gotten so much taller since I last saw you! What’s it been now, ten years?”
“I was here last weekend, Miss Martin.” He giggled, running a hand over his buzzed hair, looking back when his mother finally walked into the office.
She shot him a dry look, but didn’t yell at him for jumping out of a moving car, which he was thankful for. Turning her face to Miss Martin, she smiled. “Hey, Eloise. How’s Lydia?”
“Oh, she’s good, she’s good. She won first place at the science fair!”
“Oh, how wonderful!”
For a few more minutes, they exchanged mindless chatter until Stiles was literally yanking on his mother’s sleeve, looking up at her with big, sad eyes. “Mama, please, I wanna see the wolves nooooow.”
Mrs. Stilinski sighed, but nodded her head and smiled at him. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll see you on Monday, El.”
Taking his hand, she lead him through the back door, into the part of the reserve where the wolves actually lived. She didn’t release his hand- she’d learned the hard way once that Stiles would happily tackle a fully grown wolf if he was allowed- and lead him up the path, through trees and little hills.
Before they found the pack- they were usually all found together, especially on sunny afternoons like this- Stiles spotted something... unusual. A wolf he had never seen before.
The animal was huge, probably the biggest wolf he’d ever seen. All black, except for a single grey strip across his chest. He stood at the very edge of the fence, head down, shocking blue eyes narrowed in on Stiles from across the grass.
“Mama? Mama, who’s that?”
Her eyes followed his line of vision, and she sighed, giving his hand a little squeeze. “That’s Derek. He’s our newest wolf.”
“Newest? He doesn’t look very much like a puppy, mama.”
His mother chuckled a little, scratching lightly at the short hair on his head. “No, sweetie, Derek wasn’t born here. He came to us from another reserve on the other side of the state.”
Stiles cocked his head to the side, licking his lips. “Why?”
“Well... something bad happened there. There was a fire. And Derek couldn’t live there after the fire, so he’s going to live here, now, with our pack.”
“But what about his pack, mama?” Stiles managed to tear his eyes away from the stare of the animal to look up at his mother, demanding an explanation. “What happened to them? Why didn’t they come with Derek?” His mother had always told him that wolf packs were like families. Didn’t Derek have a family anymore...?
She sighed, kissing the top of her son’s head. “Unfortunately, Derek was the only survivor in his pack, after the fire.”
Stiles wanted to cry. He wanted to stand there and fall to the ground and bang his fists on the dirt and wail because that wasn’t fair at all! No one deserved to lose their whole family, especially not to some stupid fire! But before he could escalate into full-blown hysterics, his mother’s grip on his hand tightened, and she tugged him away.
The wolf didn’t look away from him. And Stiles didn’t look away until he was too far away to see him anymore.
“Nora!”
“Oh, hey! And Stiles, too? It must be my lucky day!”
Nora was another woman who worked at the reserve, with long black hair and a pretty smile. The entire wolf pack, the wolves that Stiles had been so excited about seeing only moments ago, were lounging around on the dirt and grass at her feet, but all Stiles could think about was the big black wolf with no pack.
“Stiles, look! I think she remembers you!” He glanced down at his feet, eyebrows knitting together. When the pack had had its last litter of pups, Stiles had gotten to name them. Erica, Isaac, Boyd, and Scott- after some of his friends from school. Erica, the little white pup, nuzzled against his legs, her weak canines nipping at his ankles playfully. He stooped down to pet her behind her ears, before she ran off to join her brothers.
“Oh, Nora, I meant to ask you something,” His mother released his hand, walking over to the other adult. They talked about things that didn’t make any sense to him- something about seasonal migration or something else that sounded dumb- and eventually he found himself not only sad, but bored and completely restless.
His eyes kept darting back towards the way they’d come. His mother would beat him for running off on his own, but... she wasn’t really paying attention...
The little boy managed to back up slowly a few steps, watching her face. When she didn’t register that he was leaving, completely submersed in her conversation, he turned around and darted the other way.
It didn’t take him long to find Derek. The big, black wolf was laying in the shade, against a large boulder. His ears snapped up, his eyes opening when Stiles approached. They stared at each other for a moment before Stiles cleared his throat.
“Hi... my name’s Stiles...” His mom had always said it was good to talk to the wolves. She said even if humans couldn’t understand them, there was always a chance that they could understand humans. He took another step forward. “I- I heard about what happened to your family.”
Derek cocked his head to the side, huffing through his nostrils. Stiles took that as his cue to keep talking. (Okay, Stiles took most things as a cue to keep talking.)
“I lost my dad. Not to a fire, but, uh. He got really sick, and he died. It’s just me and my mom.” He took a few more steps forward until he was standing right above Derek, little hands held out, palm down, over the wolf’s head. “I... I know it must be scary... not to have your family... but I promise, the people here are nice. And the wolves, too.”
In a burst of movement that scared Stiles enough to knock him off his feet, Derek stood up. He looked down at the human, nosing against his neck. Stiles felt something hot and wet against his cheek and made a “yuck” face. “Derek, you didn’t have to lick me, weirdo. Gosh, you try to be nice to a guy, and he treats you like a drool toy.”
Stiles stood up again, running his fingers along the back of Derek’s neck, smiling down at him. The wolf didn’t seem like he was going to eat him, which was nice, though Stiles supposed you never knew with wolves. He could very well change his mind at any minute.
“I’m just saying, you don’t have to be alone all the time. It must get pretty boring just sitting over here, with nothing but this rock to keep you company. Besides, you might make some really good friends in the pack!”
Derek huffed again, and turned his head away. Stiles swore he rolled his eyes.
“Hey! Don’t judge people before you get to know them. My mama always tells me that’s the worst thing you can do.” When Derek seemed fairly unresponsive, Stiles sighed, scratching the wolf behind his ears. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal.”
Blue eyes turned on him, and he smiled. “If you promise to try to make friends with the other wolves, I promise to come and visit you every weekend.”
Derek stared at him for a minute, before he laid his head in Stiles’ lap. With a huge, gap-toothed grin, the eight year old nodded and ran his fingers along the coarse black fur, satisfied that he had convinced him.
It was totally worth the lecture he got when his mom finally realized he’d run off.