Stiles has lived for a good seven years, he has a nice house, goes to a decent school, and has the bestest friend in the whole wide world. Everyone says that, but he knows it's the truth, because Derek Sebastian Hale is the greatest best friend anyone can ask for. He's tall, brave, and smart. He's almost two years older than Stiles, and he still loves to play with him. He helps Stiles build blanket forts, and can somehow talk Stiles' parents into letting him stay over at the Hale House on the weekends.
Man, is that place a wild ride. Stiles lives at home with a mom and a dad, but Derek has a huge house with a ginormous family. He has a mom, a dad, three sisters, two older and one younger, and two brothers, one older and the other younger. He's the best big brother to his younger siblings, Stiles has seen it in action. He's like a knight in shining armor, Stiles is pretty sure that one day, he's going to be a superhero.
Maybe they could be superhero's together!!!
"Come along, Batman!" Derek puffs out his chest, he's clad in his brand new Superman cape and t-shirt. Stiles is wearing his own Batman shirt and cape, along with the mask his father had gotten him for his birthday. Derek peeks around the corner, down the hallway towards the kitchen. He presses a finger to his lip as Stiles ambles up behind him, the younger nodding eagerly.
"I think there's a dastardly plot playing out in the kitchen." Superman hisses, Batman's eyes widen dramatically.
"Wait, time out, Der. What does das-stard-ly mean?" Stiles asks, clasping his cape in one hand as he fidgets.
Derek rolls his eyes, but then smiles gently. "It means evil." He explains with a shrug, and Stiles nods once more.
"Oh no!" He exclaims softly, falling back into character.
"Exactly, I think there are cookies being made without us." He murmurs.
"No!" Stiles gasps, Derek gives a grave nod.
"I believe it to be true." The older sighs, Stiles smiles a little. Derek was so good at pretend.
They creep into the kitchen, and Derek jumps out, Stiles right behind him.
"Halt, fiend! You're under arrest for not sharing your cookies!" He calls out, Stiles' mother turns around with an exaggerated gasp, she drops down to one knee with her hands clasped together.
"I'm so sorry, Superman. Please don't put me away, I have a husband and a son to take care of. I've got extra cookies to share, I swear." She tells them seriously, Derek gives her a considering look before smirking.
"It's okay Mama Stiles." He shrugs, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her cheek. Derek couldn't pronounce Stilinski, and when he was even younger, he couldn't pronounce Stiles' real name. So 'Stiles' had come about, and that branded Claudia 'Mama Stiles' and Stiles' father became 'Papa Stiles'. The two never minded, Derek was like a son to them, he never strayed from Stiles' side.
"So, I'm not under arrest?" She asks, Stiles shakes his head and moves forwards to hug her.
"No, mommy. I'd never let you get are-arrested." The boy assures with a giggle as he's lifted off the ground.
"Good, now how about some cookies?" She smiles, Derek sprints over to the kitchen table and pulls out one, two, three chairs. He scrambles into one, leaving the other two for Stiles and his mother.
"Thank you very much, Derek." Claudia tells him, setting Stiles in one seat and moving to grab a plate of cookies off the counter.
"You're very welcome." The boy replies with a dimpled grin, she places the cookies on the table and walks away to grab the milk.
They eat cookies and talk about weekend plans, Claudia wanted to take Stiles to the zoo, therefor, Derek would be going.
Suddenly the door opens and shuts, Stiles' father walks into the kitchen, looking distressed.
"John?" Claudia inquires, seeming nervous. She gets up and walks over to him, they have a quiet conversation to themselves as Stiles and Derek look on curiously. Both of them feeling a little nervous themselves when Claudia gasps softly and glances towards them.
"Derek, son." John walks over and sits across from him, Derek frowns.
"Did I do something wrong?" He asks quietly, the man shakes his head with a sigh.
"No.. There was a fire at your house." He explains quietly, Derek blinks at him in confusion.
"Did Papa burn something again?" He asks with a small giggle, Stiles smiling as well, but John doesn't smile.
"Your house caught fire, it was really bad, Derek." He tries to say, biting his lip.
"The house burned down?!" He asks with wide eyes, John wipes a hand over his face as Claudia comes to kneel in front of Derek.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. But a lot of people got stuck inside, and they didn't make it out..." She tells him softly.
"W-What?" He looks back and forth between the adults.
"Laura and your Uncle Peter are at the hospital, but everyone else...." John's voice trails off.
"They got hurt?" Derek asks, fidgeting in his seat.
"They're in Heaven, darling." Claudia says finally after a bout of silence.
Derek shakes his head slowly, then more insistently.
"You're lying." He snaps, jumping off his chair. Claudia grabs his arm gently, but he yanks away.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." She murmurs, and he shakes his head.
"I hate you. I hate you, I want to go home!" He shouts, tears welling in his eyes.
Stiles slides from his seat and walks up to him, attempting to give him a hug. Derek pushes him away, hands balled into fists.
"No, I hate you, I want to see my mom!" He snarls, tears dripping down his face. Then he drops to the floor on his bottom, sobbing for the parents he'd never see again.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~
Derek had spent the next two days at their house, hiding in the guest room. Sometimes he'd let Stiles come in and lay under the covers with him, just letting him be with him. Nothing he could say could make it better, so he just held Derek's hand and let him cry.
His Uncle Peter was released with a few burns, but his sister had jumped out a window to escape the flames. The impact damaged her spine, she'd never walk again. Stiles and his parents accompanied Derek to the hospital to visit Laura. She was one of Derek's older sisters, or really, the only one he had now. She was fourteen, she'd lost her family, and her ability to walk.
Stiles' world had been tossed upside down, but then again, so did everyone else's involved.
Derek and Laura were taken to Peter's house, one he used to share with his wife and daughter, who perished in the fire as well. They were supposed to meet at the funeral, but the three never showed up. When they visited Peter's house, they found it was completely empty. Peter had left, and taken Derek and Laura with him.
It was Stiles' turn to cry, he had lost his best friend. No consoling could fix that.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~
That summer, Stiles' mom changed. She was moody, tired, forgetful. His father was at work so much, Stiles wasn't sure if things were going the same way for him. Stiles' life fell apart before him, as he was faced with an entirely new environment. An absent father, an ill mother, and a flame in his stomach that grew with every problem that arose.
Stiles hated his life, he hated everything about it suddenly.
His mother's hands shook, she could barely write, and then she was taken to the doctor. Things were worse, how things could get any worse, well now he knew. His mother was diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia, he knew it was bad.
Bad when his mother stopped saying goodnight, or calling him sweet nicknames. His mom didn't really acknowledge him too much anymore, he learned to take care of himself. His mother was too sick, his father was too busy.
At age ten, Stiles came home to find the house quiet. He let himself in, ate a snack and then headed upstairs. He opens the door to his parents' room, sees his mother on the floor with an empty pill bottle next to her. Stiles screams so loud the neighbors called the police. And that's where they found him, holding his mother close and sobbing for her to come back.
Things were different, something died in Stiles that day. A piece of him he'd never get back, a darkness in his heart.
He doesn't cry at the funeral, or at seeing his mother's lifeless body in the casket. He just leans over, presses a kiss to her cold cheek, and whispers softly to her.
"I'll miss you."
He wasn't sure what died that night, his innocence probably. To know that a mother would commit suicide and know that her son would most likely find the body, that's not something you can unlearn.
Then again, he didn't quite blame her. Not at all. He wasn't too fond of living at the moment either.