#handsofred

Stiles and Derek are both 6 and declare each other their boyfriend one Valentine’s Day.

Alive Hales and Talia and alive Claudia, who are best of friends. They think it’s so cute and encourages it and helps both boys to create a valentines card for the other, the joke and laugh about it, saying that they would probably forget all about it.

Come April, Derek says that he wants to get Stiles a gift for his birthday since he’s his boyfriend. Talia finds it adorable and helps him before telling Claudia all about it when the boys nap, curled together and holding hands.

The next year, they keep calling each other boyfriends and both their mothers start thinking that this going to be a long phase. Their families just think it’s cute still and tell them that by the time they turn ten or something it will be forgotten.

Fast forward to ten years of age, they still call each other boyfriends and they hold hands everywhere and cuddle together.

Each year, they get gifts for Valentine’s Day, birthdays and other holidays.

Talia and Claudia realise that the boys have a strong bond and accept it since it’s clear that if they haven’t forgotten about it in four years, that they probably won’t. But think that maybe by the time they hit high school it might be different.

Stiles and Derek start high school and they walk in on their first day holding hands and telling anyone who asks about it that they are boyfriends.

They turn fourteen and are still together.

When they are sixteen, Claudia walks in on them heavily making out with each other on the couch, hands down each others pants before they are quickly breaking apart, flushing red from more than one thing.

Claudia sits down with Talia and says that it’s about time they had a talk with the boys and tells her what happened. They both sit down with their respective sons and go through the sex talk despite them flushing and begging them to stop before escaping to their rooms to call each other and complain about the embarrassment.

They turn eighteen and are in love with each other still but they go to separate colleges

Talia and Claudia wonder if this is the moment things will stop but it doesn’t.

They visit each other whenever they can, they call and text each other constantly, although friends of Stiles’ who hasn’t met Derek doesn’t believe he is real or as hot as Stiles rants about but then one day Derek surprises Stiles at school during Valentine’s Day and presents him with a card, a rose and box of chocolates before he is going down on one knee and proposes to Stiles.

They are twenty when they get engaged.

They are twenty six when they finally get married, after having finished college and found jobs and saved up for their first home and the wedding.

Both Talia and Claudia has a speech where they talk about how their little boys were six years old when they declared each other their boyfriend and they had thought it was a cute little moment between kids. Of how people called it a cute phase that they would grow out off but they weren’t sure and how they were proud of what amazing men they had become and how happy they were to be celebrating their love for one another.

Claudia totally slips in about the moment she walked in on them, throwing a wink and grin at them both as Stiles and Derek blush and laugh.

but I can't remember what happened any more...kind of hoping to dream it again or actually come across a fic that is so much like it.

so recommendations for any fics where Stiles is pushed out of the pack? the lengthier the better.

Read on AO3 here <----

Stiles was...well... He was fucked! And it wasn't even his fault this time okay, it seriously wasn't. So the fact that he was currently laid up in an emergency side room, holding a bloody towel to his temple wasn't something anyone could tell him otherwise. Because it was not his fault. The fact that his other arm was cradled against his chest as well and possibly broken also wasn't his fault. None of this was and yet he was the one sitting there, injured and hurting while the other guy was currently fighting with the nurses down the hall, each yell and squeak of footwear against the floor driving another nail in to his head. Of course that guy was drunk, driving a stupid car which crashed in to Stiles' jeep and made him veer off to the side, hitting another car as he went while drunk guy continued to drive on, hitting others too. But it was also the fact that the side he was pushed towards just happened to slope downwards...just enough to send the jeep rolling once or twice and land upside down. He was fucked, but he was alive.

Stiles not from Beacon Hill's.

John is still a sheriff, Claudia was a first chair musician (violin) Who also teaches Stiles how to play from a young age.

She still dies.

They are from LA.

John and Stiles ends up moving to Beacon Hill's when he's around 14.

Werewolf stuff still happens with Scott and Jackson.

Stiles and Lydia becomes friends.

Both can sing too.

Slow burn over a series of one shot fics, where Derek overhears Stiles playing Violin in the stairwell of the loft building and maybe singing sometimes after he moves in.

The breeze is running smoothly through the grass, the blades bending with a gentle tilt. Above him the sun is shining down brightly, the warmth of its rays skimming across his skin in a gentle caress that feels like hands he once knew.

He can hear the gentle babble of the brook running off to the side of him as he shifts the basket against his hip again. Inside the tufts of lavender are nestled, ready to be taken back to the cottage and bundled together before being dried out.

It had been many years since he had last seen him, and in a moment he just stands there, the flowing material of his clothing pressing against his body as he just tilts his head. It hits him sometimes, just in passing moments, he thinks about the eyes that watch with intent, the dark brows that pulled down in thoughts and concentration.

War had been something threatening for a long time and when it finally came, he had cried and begged on his knees, scratching his skin raw as he clutched at his travelling clothing. He begged him not to leave, not to go away, fear squeezing his heart that he would never see him again. He had been taken in large hands, pulled to his feet and his tears wiped away with calloused fingertips. Promises were spoken, falling softly from lips he cherished, love spilled between them in a quiet space. He had taken him to bed one last time, made love to him with such tenderness that he wept all over again.

He had stayed with him until he had fallen asleep, when he had awoken, it was to a cold bed and a letter of goodbye on the pillow beside his head. He knew that he wouldn't have left when he was awake, the pain too strong.

Slowly the days passed and turned in to weeks, weeks turned in to months and he continued to gather his herbs and flowers. Drying them out and grinding them in to dust, creating his potions and selling his wares, getting coin in return. He made a living with each passing day, took them in his stride and tried to forget the ache that grew in his heart.

But in those same months, his stomach grew, a heartbeat fluttering through the silent nights. Each time he would touch the stretched skin, whispering soft words of their father, repeating the tales he had been told and memories he had to give.

Months turned in to years and his heart grew around the forever ache as he turned to look towards the young child who ran across the grass, feet bare and a bright grin on their lips as their voice echoed across the valley.

He looked like his father, bright in eye and dark in hair, but he had his soft skin and moles. Even at three years of age almost four, he knew that his son knew the valley like the back of his hand, he had shown him every inch of the land that belonged to them, to his father, told him the tales of soldiers brave and far away.

For a moment the breeze picked up, blowing across the valley, bringing with it the scent of his plants and herbs, of the meadow over the crest of the hill. But in a brief moment he closes his eyes, feels the touch of him, imagines that he can feel his stare and smell his scent, but he brushes it away, knowing that it cannot be.

He opens his eyes again and searches for his son, watches as he bends down beside the brook, the water clear and crisp. He watches as he pokes at something before standing again, a bright smile on his face as he turns towards him, but he watches the way his face changes, the shift of his features that he only saw with strangers. It takes him a moment, but he hurries quickly towards him and he turns, looking towards the hill where a shadow stands.

His heart leaps in his chest, fingers growing tight around the basket on his hip. He watches the person as they watch them before the breeze kicks up again and brings with it that encompassing scent again. It makes his breath hitch, the basket falling from his gasp before he is scooping his son up in to his arms and starts to move towards the person.

Even with the longer hair and the worn look upon his face, he can see clearly who it is as they get closer, his heart growing lighter, the ache fading away as he comes to a stop just feet away. He can see the questioning look on his face, feels his own lips stretching in to a smile as he shifts the boy on his hip.

''Eli.'' He speaks softly, catching his son's attention. ''This is your daddy.''

The boy blinks up at him and then the stranger, his small eyes searching before he is wiggling out of his arms and he watches him run the space between them, crashing himself against the knees of the man in front of him. He looks up to catch the look on his face, the wonder and fear that is etched there as he slowly stepped forward.

''Our last night together.'' Is all he says. ''He turns four in a few weeks time.''

The man in front of him stops being a statue and he steps closer, his hand coming up to rest against a cheek that is rough with a beard. It had been nearly four years since he had last laid eyes upon his loves face, but he had never once forgotten how it looked as he smiled with wet eyes.

''I prayed each and every night for you to return. My heart has ached for you in every moment until now, it's finally complete again.''

Peter Hale’s life changed for the better and for the worst six years ago, when he lost his wife to the birth of their twins. Widowed at twenty-nine, he stepped back from his company to focus on raising his children, leaving his niece and business partner at the helm to handle things in his absence, only stepping in when he was truly needed at the magazine.

He became Mr.Mom to the twins. From cooking to cleaning, to play dates and skinned knees and nightmares. How whole world evolved around the two of them, nothing else mattering as most as they did, until Stiles.

It’s a random Tuesday morning when Peter met Stiles for the first time, he had been grocery shopping while the twins were in daycare for a few hours, when he came back out to Stiles hanging around his car. Someone had apparently broken in but had left with nothing worth stealing. Things had hit off between them despite the ten year age gap and the fact that he had two year old twins. But Stiles had taken it in stride and things had been amazing for the past four years that they had been dating.

But now, the twins are six and slowly Peter had started to reintroduce himself in to his business again, coming back little by little behind the scenes of the magazine. But it’s while he is going over things and books that he starts to notice little things out of place or not making sense. He gets Stiles to go over everything one weekend that he is over, a fresh set of eyes to assure him that he wasn’t imagining it. But Stiles agrees and tells him that it seems like someone was skimming money off the magazine and trying their best to hide their tracks.

Without knowing who to trust, Stiles and Peter comes up with a plan and with Stiles owed a lot of vacation days from the station, he goes undercover at the company as the new assistant to Laura, Peter’s niece.

Wanted For Christmas

(This is it guys, it's finally finished and posted)

His mother wanted him to bring home his girlfriend, a woman who she thought would keep Peter on the straight and narrow, to bring him happiness in to his life which she thought he desperately needed.

Apart from a couple of things of course:

1. Peter was happy, he had a good job that allowed him to travel all over the globe and work from wherever he wanted too. 2. It was the perfect excuse to not return home to his small-town roots for holidays that he’d rather spend alone on some beach, sipping cocktails by a beach bar. 3. He was happy that he never went down the route to become a lawyer like his mother had wanted him to become when he first started looking at colleges.

But there was also a couple of problems in his whole plan, the whole conversation that he had with his sister and his mother’s views.

The whole story of Teen Wolf plays out, werewolves and kanima's and alpha packs etc etc, the horror comes and goes, blood is spilled and forgotten, death happens and life moves on.

Everyone is there from The Hale's down to Deaton and the Stilinski's. Erica and Boyd are alive, Isaac is a wolf still. The Hale's are Derek and Cora and Peter returned from the dead, still squirmy and smirking.

The story ends and ripples like a dream, the image fading away until you are left with Stiles in a bed, silent and still apart from the movement of his chest rising and falling. Beside him in an uncomfortable hospital chair is his father, the sheriff reading from a book that he knew his son enjoyed once. Lord Of the Rings, the characters falling from the page and his lips.

In a bed across from him lays another still body, a joint room in the long term ward of the Beacon Hill's Memorial Hospital. Stiles is there and has been since he was eight years old, his mother had tried to drown him and while his father had been quick enough to save his life, the damage had been done and he had not woken up at all, doctors have no idea while he hasn't woken, that all brain activity is normal and for all their tests and research shows that Stiles should be awake and leading a normal teenage life now.

He's seventeen, soon approaching his eighteenth birthday and with a sigh, the sheriff finishes his chapter and puts the bookmark back in between the pages before setting it down on the stand beside the bed. He wishes his son a goodnight and kisses his forehead after brushing away his hair, reminding him to get it trimmed soon.

With only a glance towards the other bed, he leaves the room and then the ward, then the hospital, pausing just long enough at the door of his car to look up towards the darkening sky.

Back in the room, across the bed from Stiles lays another bed, another body beneath the covers, but this one doesn't get any visitors at all, he doesn't move and he doesn't talk. He's frozen inside a body that can open and close his eyes and nothing else. His family had abandoned him after the fire that claimed his home and the rest of his family, his niece and nephew the only ones to survive apart from him.

Peter Hale lays prone.

Two bodies, two broken minds, two people who are trapped within themselves, battling similar nightmares night after night. Chasing after any change, of any chance of waking.

The night Stiles turned eighteen, it's a full moon outside.

The pure white light shines in through windows where curtains had been forgotten, left at the sides of the window the moonlight shines down across both of the bodies.

Almost at once something seems to ripple through the room, a silent wave of energy that swirls around them both, nothing stirs at first and then almost as if planned, two sets of eyes open, snapping open to stare up at an unknowing ceiling.

A pair of eyes once whiskey brown, glows brightly with emerald sparks.

A pair of eyes once azure blue, burns fiercely cyan.

Together they sit up and stare across the room at each other, a silent conversation growing between them, a life missed out and connection building.

A wolf once lost and feral,

A boy once young and care free and happy.