Chapter Text
The story is set as 8 year old Stiles Stilinski finds himself sick. He sits at his desk, bundled in his coat, with his red nose poking out of the place where he’s supposed to be looking out of. The light in his hidey hole is getting smaller- he sees small hands that mirror his own pushing down a tissue. It would have been helpful, if the young hands hadn't startled him. With a yelp, Stiles was thrashing about and trying to see if Jackson had decided to tease him again. As his own hood fell off, he was met with a hood of moppy brown hair. Below that hair was a boy his own age, shy eyes and a flush on his face.
“You looked sick, so I brought you a tissue.” The offending weapon, the tissue, was still in his hand. Amazing, Stiles thought, how it’s still there after his own trashing.
“You should be a doctor.” He took the tissue gladly and wiped his nose. When he had looked up he knew he must have set the other boy off, he could see the bright grin on his face that made his eyes quit. “I want to be a pet doctor!"
Stiles didn't know pets could get sick. His snake definitely never got sick, no matter how many mice Stiles had fed him!
“If that’s what you really want.” Stiles shrugged and threw his tissue into the nearest trash can. “I’m Stiles.”
He hated his name. His real name, and his nickname. He didn't have the polish background of his mother, but he did have the tiny lisp his father had at his age. His mom and dad explained to him what a ‘lisp’ was when Jackson Whittemore, the school bully, made fun of him for it. He externally brushed it off, but inside, his curiosity was burning. It began burning again when his new friend gave him a weird look. “Uh- what’s a Stiles?” Stiles gaped at him for second before a grin creeped up on his face. He threw his arm around his new best friend.
“I’ll explain later.”
No, he would not.
Many minutes later, Stiles learned the boy’s name.
It was harsh on his tongue, making it press against the gap between his two front teeth. After a lot more minutes later, Scott taught him to say it with his tongue pointed at the roof of his mouth, instead of his teeth. It sounded awkward, bumbling, but he had less of his lisp before. A few sayings later, it felt almost natural. He guffawed to himself when he finally got it correct, and Scott had given him a reassuring nod with a matching grin.
It was a day later that the two of them would share every little detail. Stiles would share-
“My dad is the best sheriff to ever sheriff.” or sometimes “My mom’s favorite color is red.”
Scott would let Stiles ramble until something the other said reminded him of his mom. “She takes care of my bruises when I’m running too fast outside.” Most of Scott’s stories repeated enough of him getting asthma attacks or getting bruises to where Stiles almost expected Scott to get a nosebleed while talking to him. They bounced ideas off of each other until Stiles cut off Scott.
“Did you say brother?” Stiles couldn't even try to contain his excitement.
Growing up an only child was a novelty only some had, and even less enjoyed. Playing Batman by himself and not having a little sibling to play Robin. Scott stuck his tongue out and made his trademarked ‘ew’ face. “We play the Playstation together sometimes, but he’s 12. He wants to play with the ‘big kids’ and not the ‘little ones’.” Scott stated it in what could only be seen as a mocking tone. “I wish I had siblings.” While Scott’s tone was mocking, Stiles’ was wistful. “Maybe my brother will pretend to be your brother!” For a second, hope filled Stiles’ heart.
But that was before he asked, ”Do you think he would do that?”
Scott’s face dropped and sagged. “Okay, maybe not. But you should still come over and meet him! You’re my only best friend and that means you have to meet my mom and Derek.”
“What’s a Derek?”
Derek was Scott’s brother. The brother that only spent time with his little brother when he wanted an ego boost by besting Scott at video games. That was what Stiles had gathered from their talk of Scott’s older brother. They could each talk for hours, Stiles especially. But they knew their special bonding time had come to an end when their teacher began to tell everyone to clean up. Students started being called to find their parents, when all Stiles had to look for was bright red and blue police lights.
Seconds before leaving to each other’s respected vehicles, they decided to rope their parents up and guide them to their destiny of meeting sooner rather than later.
“Dad, this is Scott and he’s my best friend, mom is going to love him because he already knows how to hold a teacup like a fancy man.” Stiles was slowly starting to hyperventilate at the thought of his parents being proud of him having a friend. Scott was fine with a simple “This is Stiles.” Stiles didn't feel like that suited his personality properly though, and decided to flair it up by posing. That was met with an “Oh god” from his father and a laugh from Scott’s mom.
“Oh god, Derek would hate him.” He still wasn't exactly sure what Derek was like, but it sounded like he hated awesome people. And everything else in life. His dad leaned over Stiles to shake Scott’s mom’s hand. “John Stilinski. I’m guessing the clothes say it all?” Stiles never noticed when his dad was in his work clothes. He really only saw him in his pajamas or work clothes.
The brunette laughed again, shaking the hand that was offered to her. “I’m Melissa Mccall. I knew I recognized you from somewhere-”
Stiles talked about Scott and their antics all the way home. He did the same when he got home, repeating all the stories to his mother as she made dinner. The repeating lines of “Excuse me,” and “That’s wonderful!” were said as Claudia tried to not get too distracted from her son. “How about you save the rest of your day for dinner?” Stiles stared at her for a second before nodding and running off to feed his fish.
Dinner was uneventful. He finished his day with his dad and Mrs. Mccall meeting. His dad explained to his mom about how she was a nurse at the local hospital. His mother got through dinner with minimal coughing, and his dad with minimal acid reflux.
“Scott wants to be a pet doctor!” Stiles had stood on his chair, almost knocking it over, and made wide gestures with his hands. “Stiles, you’re going to get hurt.” His dad warned, but he ignored him. “That’s called a veterinarian.”
The boy knew if he even tried to replicate the sounds coming out of his mothers mouth, he would be spitting every which way.
So, instead, he shrugged and let his parents deal with his leftovers. He made his way to his dad’s office, which was slowly being taken over by Stiles’ ever growing pet collection. So far, his snake was the main attraction of the room. His fish was a few feet over, crickets trying to communicate inter-species language to them. Right of the coral snake, was his turtle aquarium. Aqua-man certainly wasn't his favorite, but he wasn't in last place. That was reserved for the crickets. He had been secretly feeding them to the coral snake.
The snake was happy, and that was all that mattered.
Their first sleepover was planned for the next weekend. His mom would be visiting Stiles’ aunts and uncles in Oregon, while his dad decided to work overtime on the new case of over-poaching. Stiles would be sent to Scott’s house at 7:00 PM (so Scott wouldn't get tired of him too easily.) and would be dropped off at home the next day at whatever time Melissa chose. Stiles had his mental checklist all checked, and his overnight bag stuffed to the brim.
But nothing could have prepared him for the eyebrows of Derek Mccall.
Not even the the hour he had already spent over there. It was only around 9:30 when Derek had come home from what Scott said was either his friends house or practice. Stiles didn’t know what practice was for. The hour before the brother got there was interesting. Filled with talks of their teacher or styrofoam sword fighting. Melissa had brought down the monopoly board, and within 12 minutes, the two of them were making it rain fake money. Another 25 minutes went into looking for the dog. “It’s too precious to lose.” Stiles had said while flipping the couch cushions. They didn't find the dog, but they did find the hat!
And they also found the Derek.
Scott and him were playing hide and seek, Stiles preferred method was ‘Hide in plain sight right next to the door.’ It didn't work well when the the door opened. Stiles stared at the new stranger coming in. Dressed in a dark leather jacket, and wet hair making his face also wet. With furrowed brows, the stranger looked over at Stiles. “Mom.” His eyes never left Stiles, even when he took a step back.
“So that’s what a Derek is!”