Chapter 2

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                                                             Derek's POV

                                                             Two Weeks Later

Stiles had lived, and now it was the full moon. I'd made him come to the house, because God knows that Beacon Hills didn't need three werewolves running around. Scott was off on his own, saying he could handle it. So here I was, all alone with a hyperactive teenager. When he came in though, I got another surprise. He was drunk, smelling like he'd taken a bath in a tub full of Jack Daniel's.

"Hey, Derek," Stiles rambled, "Are you going to kill me? Because that would suck. I mean, I'm going to die eventually, but that would make it a hell of a lot sooner. I guess it doesn't really matter, though. It's not like I could change your mind if you did decide to kill me. I mean...."

"God, Stiles," I snapped, "Sober up."

"Being sober sucks," he protested, and then, in a softer voice, "Then I have to think about her."

"Who, Lydia?" I asked in a frustrated voice.

"No." he whispered, "Her. Mom."

He teared up. He collapsed onto my couch, and sat there, lost in his own head. I didn't know what he was doing, until I realized he was asleep. I sighed. Suddenly, he spoke.

"Mommy?" he mumbled.

He sat bolt upright, his eyes wide with fear.

"NO!" he screamed, "MOM!"

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                                                                   January 17th, 2001

                                                             NOTE: STILES IS SIX IN THIS

                                                                     Stiles' Dream

"Mommy!" I yelled, barreling in from outside.

"What, sweetie?" she said.

"I caught a toad!!" I said, and shoved it into her face.

"That's one cute little toad."  she exclaimed.

"If you kiss it, it will turn into a prince." I said in a solemn voice.

"I don't need a prince, I have one. My little Dywysog." she said, using my real name.

"Does this mean I get to keep it for a pet?" I asked.

"No." she said, laughing. She began to cough, and didn't stop. Blood splattered over the white counter.

"Mommy?" I said fearfully.

I was suddenly in the hospital, where she lay on a bed.

"Dywysog?" she asked, "Is that you?"

As I watched, she began to whither away, until she was only a skeleton.

"NO!" I screamed, "MOM!"

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                                                             Stiles' POV

I jerked out of my nightmare, gasping. Derek was staring at me, with concern in his eyes.

"I-I'm f-f-fine." I stuttered.

Tears welled up in my eyes. Derek sat down beside me.

"What was she like?" he asked softly.

"She would tease me a lot. She'd always make me laugh. She was Welsh, so she'd switch between languages all the time. She named me. Dwywysog. It means prince. She'd call me that. Her little prince."

I began to sob. I didn't know why, but I ended up burying my face into his chest. I cried until my eyes ran out of tears.

"Thank you." I whispered.

"It's nothing." he replied, in that same soft, kind voice.

He wrapped his arms around me. It calmed me down, and I fell asleep.

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