#foreversciles

“We can go home, you know,” he says seriously.

“We just got here -” 

“I know,” Stiles says. “But.” 

“We want to go to the Light festival,” Scott reminds him. 

“Sure. But.” 

“It’s stupid to be nervous about an empty cabin,” Scott says, voice cracking a little. 

“Not at all. But, even if it was - we could still go home. Right now.” 

Scott thinks about it, thinks about the sense of defeat he’d feel, thinks about the cozy Christmas they had planned, just the three of them.  Images race through his mind: snow angels, the northern lights, kissing Stiles, oatmeal, Vesta, sledding, a bear, a witch, knee high socks, a whole winter of them. 

Sawdust. 

“We might as well. We’re never going to get it back,” he says quietly. Tears freeze in his eyes as the wind howls around them. Vesta sits at his feet, and Stiles protects his back. 

“Get what back, sweetheart?” Stiles asks, sounding confused. 

“That winter. We’ll never - no matter what we do here, it’ll never be that time again. Even if it’s just us.” 

“Scotty, baby, listen to me,” Stiles says, turning Scott around gently to face him. “Of course we won’t, sweetheart. That winter - I mean, there are parts of it neither of us want to get back, aren’t there? There are parts of it that still creep me out! And they aren’t just the parts you’re thinking of - the stillness out here, the way you bled when you cut yourself without healing right up, the lack of real cream for coffee - it wasn’t all good, and we both know it. But the good parts. Scott, the good parts? We’re replicating all the time. We’re making moments like that all the time, together.” 

“They aren’t just like that, Stiles, they’re - the moments, they’re different -” 

“Because we’re different baby. You’re different. What you’re feeling… I think I understand it.” 

Scott looks at him a little skeptically despite himself. 

“No, I do. I think about it too - when we were in high school, and everything was - god, everything was changing so much, we were in danger all the time, and we were constantly growing, evolving, becoming something new. Growth. That’s - it happened to you here. For years, nothing, and then I come along and -” 

“It was like the sun,” Scott finishes, and Stiles blushes red, redder than his cheeks already were. “You came and it was like seeing the sun for the first time in years.” 

“And you grew, baby. You pulled yourself up, out of the hole you’d been in, and you - damn it Scott, you made it. You never thought you would but you made it.” 

“Only because of you -” 

“No, because of you. Because you saw an opportunity and you reached for it. You saw life, and you grabbed it with both hands. That was you, Scott.” 

“And now it’s just…” Scott trails off. 

“Now it’s just life,” Stiles says, a little sad. 

“It’s good,” Scott says instantly, and Stiles shakes his head. 

“Sure it is. But it’s - it can’t always be the sun coming out after years of darkness.  Sometimes it’s just - getting up, going to class or work, coming home, playing with Vesta, seeing our friends - sometimes it’s normal.” 

“I had hoped -” 

“You had hoped maybe you’d feel it again?” Stiles ventures, and hugs him tight when Scott nods his head, slow and hesitant. 

Scott clings, despite their puffy coats making it impossible to feel Stiles’ body heat, to feel any of him at all really. He still clings. 

“We can’t go back,” Stiles whispers, and Scott nods. “And you know, deep down, you wouldn’t really want to. But you know what we can do?” 

“Go home?” Scott guesses, and Stiles laughs. 

“We can go home, sure. Or - stay with me now - we can go forward.” 

Scott straightens and  looks him in the eyes, soft brown and sweeter with crinkled lines out to the sides of them. 

“We can’t go back, but we can go forward,” Scott repeats, like a mantra. 

“We can’t visit the past. We can’t undo what’s been done, and we can’t get back those feelings we felt when we were here the first time. But -” 

“We can make new memories,” Scott says, voice growing stronger as he talks. His heart lifts a bit. “We can, and we will, and they might - they might not ever be as strong -” 

“But those little moments, they’re important too.” Stiles takes off his gloves despite the cold, and puts warm hands on either side of Scott’s face. He kisses him, just a soft, sweet brush of his lips. “See?” he asks. “We’re making new memories right now.”

“I’m not sure I get it,” Scott says, and waits for Stiles’ eyes to narrow. “Kiss me again, just to make sure?” 

Stiles laughs, and kisses him again, and overhead, the clouds break open.