The most wonderful day of the year

"What is it, kid?" the sheriff asks when Stiles stares at his phone for the seventh time, looking at the screen and then putting it in his pocket once again.

It's driving him nuts.

"It's just that… Look. It's Christmas, okay?" he says, very seriously, and the Sheriff stares, hoping there'll be more.

"Okay", he says, very slowly, "I'm aware that Christmas is coming. Any particular reason why you're all—" he says, gesturing towards Stiles and the kid swallows hard.

"Derek's coming this year. And Mrs. McCall has the early shift, so she said that if I could cook, she and Scott and Isaac would be here. And Aiden and Lydia are coming, and Cora and Peter, of course, and Jackson, because it'd be cruel to have the whole pack but not him. And Allison was so sad, because, well, you know, and she said she'd drag Chris here if she had to. So, you know."

The Sheriff keeps staring, because he can't quite see the reason for the angst here.

"I know all of that, Stiles. I am completely aware of our plans. What is your point?"

Stiles sighs deeply, and stops pacing for five seconds.

"I think… I mean, I think that two more people wouldn't make a difference. Two or three, tops. You know. Just… it's so many people already, a couple more won't make a difference. It's not like we won't have enough food or something because we haven't even boughtit yet. You can't have too little of something you don't have yet, right?"

"Point, Stiles?"

"I think we should invite Dean and Sam for it. Maybe Castiel too."

Oh, so that's where the angst is coming from. He gets it now.

"And you want to invite them for Christmas?"

The kid seems to deflate a little, shrugging and looking down.

"It's just that… I don't think they ever had this, you know? Everyone around and a lot of people for a Holiday."

He shrugs again at the end, picking at his hoodie, and the Sheriff sighs, knowing he can't even try and say no to his son like this.

"Call them" the man tells him, calm and steady, "Ask them to come, there's no harm in it."

"You won't get mad?" his kid asks, eyeing him with his head low, peaking through his eyelashes, cringing a little, in a gesture so damnStiles he can't help but smile softly at him.

"About you wanting to get to know the guy who helped make you?"

"I was thinking more of wanting to get to know the guy who left mom pregnant."

The Sheriff sighs deeply.

"Stiles, I know I'm your father. I don't feel threatened by him. Invite them. I've read the books, they could use a little normal" he finishes, and his son smiles at him in thanks, grabbing his phone and disappearing upstairs.

Well, if anything, he knows this Christmas will be eventful.

X

Dean gets up after a fifteen hour sleep that he was in some serious need of, and finds Sam reading (of course), Kevin playing something on his iPad and Castiel… staring at the microwave.

Whatever.

"Your phone was ringing before."

He turns to stare at Cas.

"And you didn't answer? It could be a case!"

"You needed sleep" the ex-Angel tells him, tilting his head to the side, and he can hear Sam muffling a laugh in the other room.

He won't even go there right now.

Frowning, he picks up the phone and sees he has three new messages.

The first one being from Stiles.

Now, it's not like they hadn't been talking in the past five months – they have. Stiles sends texts, sometimes e-mails, but he never calls him. They talk – but only in a setting where the answer doesn't have to be immediate and, to be completely honest, they never talk about the really important things.

So to have three new messages, and the first one being his son's, he gets a bit freaked out.

Which is why he puts it on the speaker phone to hear it – so when, damn it, if he freaks out, he won't have to explain it.

Sam and Cas stare at him expectantly, Kevin even stops playing and comes closer, when he accepts the message and starts hearing it.

"Hey, this is Stiles, you know, your… erm, anyway. As you know – or don't, I'm not sure what kind of calendar you keep, maybe with being hunters and all you don't really pay attention to this stuff, even though Allison likes it, and Mr. Argent is coming too, but anyway, next Tuesday is Christmas Eve and I thought maybe you'd like to, you know, come by and eat some turkey. I'm making it, 'cause dad can't cook and Melissa is working most of the day, and seriously, all the others are useless in the kitchen, so if you wanted to, you know, come. You and Sam. And Castiel. And, you know, anyone else you want to spend Christmas with. Anyway. Just… you know, something for you to think about. You don't have to come, just… I'm gonna go now, Bye."

He looks at the other people in the room, and he can see surprise written on all of their faces – sure, they didn't part in the worst of terms, but being invited for Christmas is a whole other level in this non-existent relationship of theirs.

He looks at his phone again, and notices the next message is from the Sheriff.

Maybe the man called to let them know they shouldn't go.

He presses the button and takes a deep breath.

"This is John Stilinski. I know my son called you earlier to invite you for Christmas, but I also know Stiles, and he probably skipped some vital information, so I'm calling too. You should come – you can even stay with us this time. Just let us know beforehand, so we can get a big enough turkey. See you then."

He feels a little hopeful, and he can see in Sam's eyes that he does too.

Truth is they don't really get a whole lot of Holidays stuff done – the last Christmas he celebrated was before he died and went to Hell.

The third message is from an unknown number, but Dean has a feeling he knows who this is from.

"This is Derek Hale. I'm calling to tell you to come for Christmas, because Stiles is been through enough and he wants you to come. So be here Tuesday."

And that's the end of the call.

"Your son's boyfriend sounds really great" Kevin comments, a small mocking smile on his lips.

Dean rolls his eyes and doesn't answer. He and Sam trade a look, and his brother shrugs, leaving it up to him.

Well, they are going to have Christmas with his son's family this year.

X

"We should bring gifts, right? Like, it's Christmas, we should bring them a gift."

Sam nods, looking at his brother with something skin to pity.

"I think it'd be the polite thing to do, yeah."

"What do we buy a seventeen year old boy with a Sheriff for a father? I have no idea what to get him. Anything I'd buy would either be illegal or not good enough."

Sam sighs.

"Actually, I had an idea for a present, I'm just not sure you'll like it."

Dean does like it.

He likes it a lot.

X

It's just around four when they get to the very same street they've been in a few months before – the house still looks the same, except now it has a whole lot of lights all over the ceiling and a huge… Dean wants to say reindeer, but it could as well be a moose, in the front yard.

He takes a deep breath, looks at Sam once, who nods at him, and they get out of the car.

They haven't even crossed the street yet and the door is already being opened – perks of werewolves all around – and the kid who talked to Dean last time he was over comes out, looking incredibly happy and relieved at seeing them.

He smiles broadly at the tree of them, the door opening wide behind him. He's wearing a red sweater with a Santa on the front and a Santa hat on his head.

"Thank God you guys are here. Stiles is kind of freaking out."

Dean is not sure how to react to that, so he nods at the kid.

"Got caught up a bit, but, yeah, here we are."

Scott smiles again and gestures them inside where, well, where there's a lot going on.

Dean remembers the pack from last time, but they are… different now. Not exactly them, but the way they're behaving – of course, last time he came to tell them one of their own was at risk, so of course they had been tense and guarded, and now they are… well, they are a bunch of teens really, really looking forward to Christmas.

Every single one of them is wearing something Christmas-y, be it a sweater or Santa hats, and they are getting a table ready in the middle of the living room, in front of a big tree (which has an angel in a trench coat on the top).

They wave a bit, and the kids wave back, bickering back and forth about where to best set the table, and how many people are going to be there for the meal.

"Stiles is in the kitchen" Scott points out, directing the newcomers there before going to help set the table, and Dean leads the way among the teen chaos of the living-room.

In the kitchen, he takes a moment to thank everything that exists to allow him, to see the Alpha werewolf his son os dating wearing a sweater with a wolf on the front, wearing a Santa hat, and on his head is a pair of antlers.

He's the first to see them – probably knew they were there from the second the car pulled up on the street – and glowers at Dean's face, before shaking his head.

"Stiles, they're here" he announces, and the kid gets up from checking something in the oven and turns to them with a bright smile.

"Hey! I wasn't sure you guys would come, I mean, you said you would, but maybe you had something better to do or something. I'm glad you're here."

He seems to hesitate a bit, going forward, arms reaching out as if for a hug, and then he thinks better of it and nods a bit, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"We wouldn't miss it" Sam says, smiling at the teen, and he smiles back, looking happy.

Dean wants to go for the hug, but then he thinks the moment has passed, and now it'd be weird.

"You guys really got into the Christmas spirit, huh?" he says, nodding briefly at Derek who glares at him and turns around to stir something on the stove. Stiles grins broadly and nods.

"Yup. Everyone has to get in the Christmas Spirit this year."

"And everyone has to be happy about it too" says one of the boys coming in from the living-room, picking up knives and forks, "Or else" he completes before leaving, and Dean turns to his son, staring as he smirks.

"What is up with that?"

"I and Lydia may or may not have found out a mix that can get werewolves drunk for New Year's Eve. And I may or may not have threatened not to make them any if they didn't get into the Holiday spirit."

Derek huffs then, passing by them with a bowl of salad to take to the table, and Sam stares at Stiles, impressed.

"Even Derek?"

Stiles smirks again then.

"That took a different kind of persuasion."

"I did not need to know that" Dean mutters, and Stiles snickers a little.

"So, you guys staying with us, right? Let's get your things out of the car, and I'll show you to the guest room."

"You don't have to, really, we can stay at a motel or something."

"You've been here before, the motel is crap, and we have the room. Unless you don't want to stay, then it's cool" he trails off, as if that particular thought hadn't come to him before, and Dean is hit by the urge not to disappoint this kid, ever, in no way, because he looks so down.

"No, no, we just didn't want to be any trouble, but we'll stay. It's cool. Thanks."

Stiles nods at them then, and leads them out of the house.

They settle in in the room they are offered and join the others back downstairs.

It doesn't take long for the Sheriff to get home, greeting them with a smile and a slap on the shoulder. Scott's mother is next, looking tired and worn, but happy at seeing all the kids bustling around the house, full of energy and safe.

The food is served, and they eat, thanking Stiles and Derek who cooked all day long for it, and Dean can see Derek smiling softly at Stiles who looks just so very happy at having everyone there.

It's so… foreign.

He's so freaking grateful his son has this.

He remembers his own Christmases, stealing gifts from rich neighborhoods so Sammy would have something under his Christmas twig on Christmas morning. Waiting for his dad to show up – more often than not he wouldn't – maybe remember to bring them somethingfun, for once, not something directed at hunting.

He watches even as Chris Argent, hunter from a family much more traditional than his, the way he looks at his daughter, making sure she's fine, she's happy and safe. The way Peter Hale dotes on Stiles, smiles at him and compliments his food, and growls at the other wolves when they start teasing his son.

The way the Sheriff just looks on, proud smile on his face because his kid is home, happy and safe.

The adults in Stiles's life are worried about him. They care for him in a way that is completely foreign to Dean, because even Bobby only ever was a part of his life when he was already a grown man, and had already learned that you can't trust other people to have your back.

He's so… grateful for this whole thing right now, that he can feel a few tears choking him, but he takes a deep breath and holds it in, because he's not going to be the guy who'll cry at the dinner table.

Once the food is eaten (and Melissa directs Isaac and Scott to clean up the table, under Stiles's smug face), they all settle around the Christmas tree, exchanging a gifts.

Sam looks at him, but he shakes his head, not wanting to give his yet, and Stiles presents him with a sweater in bright green with an elf on the front. His son stares at him until he takes off his leather jacket and puts it on, and all of the kids take pictures of him. He glares at the phones, but Stiles is laughing so hard he almost chokes on his hot chocolate, so things are good.

Things are good.

A few hours alter everyone is full and tired, sleepy in the way that only a huge consumption of food and candy can leave you, and people start going home, one by one.

Finally, only the Sheriff, Dean, Sam and Stiles are home.

Dean stares at Sam for a moment, and nods at Stiles, and his brother nods back at him.

"Hey, can you help us get the rest of our stuff from the car and upstairs?" he asks his nephew, "Cas, you could help?" he adds, and Dean feels like facepalming right then.

"Wow, you're very subtle. I'm glad you chose a lifestyle that doesn't depend on it for a living" the kid answers him, but follows Sam and Cas out of the kitchen.

When Dean looks back at the Sheriff, the man is leaning on the kitchen counter, looking amused at the whole thing.

"I just… I just wanted to thank you. For doing everything you did for Stiles. Not only you, either, all the others too – even that creepy guy Peter. I… Thanks."

The sheriff nods at him and sighs.

"I'm not going to say I was glad when this whole thing started. Claudia was seventeen and I realized I would be owning up to a mistake I hadn't made. But the first time I felt that little thing inside Claudia kick – the first sign I had that it was real, that it was a kid, and he'd be mine? I knew I'd do anything for him. I'm not perfect, and God do I know that. We had a rough patch before you came into our lives, and for a whole year I thought I had screwed everything up, but I would never give up on my kid. You don't have to thank me, because that's what any father would do."

Dean snorts then, and he just… he just can't stop a tear from falling down. He frowns, irritated at being so emotional, but he doesn't think he can help it right now, with all the cheer and the love and the peace.

"Not all fathers would do that. A lot of fathers wouldn't do that. Accept their kid like this? With his pack of werewolves and hunter biological father and everything? My dad wouldn't" he swallows hard saying that, looking away for a moment, "He wouldn't, and that's why I'm grateful for what you've done. I know he's your kid, that he's never going to need me the same way he does you, but I'm grateful all the same."

The Sheriff nods at him then, clapping him on the shoulder briefly, before turning to the pile of dirty dishes he's putting in the washer. Dean helps, silently, and they keep working in silence until Stiles comes bounding down the stairs, making way more noise than he'd have to.

"Can I come in or are you two still having a super-secret meeting?"

"Watch the cheek, kid, or you're not getting your present tomorrow."

"There is no cheek here, this is a no cheek zone."

Dean smiles watching him, and takes a deep breath.

"Hey, can you come with me? I want to give you something."

Stiles looks at him, then at the Sheriff, and back at him before nodding, and following Dean outside.

The man goes to the car and comes back, sitting down on the porch with his son by his side.

"I'm not very good at the gift giving thing. We haven't had many Christmases lately, and when I was growing up, we never did a whole thing about it, so… I wanted to get you something useful, something you would have a use for, and I know that you guys are trying to lay low for now, but I also know that some serious shit has hit the fan here in the past, and I want you to be ready of anything should happen again."

"You're not getting me a gun, right? Because I can't have one. Like, not that it wouldn't be awesome, but I can't shoot for shit. Dad tried. Derek tried. Peter tried and almost died for his troubles."

Dean chuckles and shakes his head.

"Nah, I get it that your thing is the research, you're more like Sam, I think, than me. So, I got you this" he tells him, giving him a square package. Inside, there's a large leather bound printed book, scanned pages of his dad's journal, and Bobby's notes. Some things from the House of Letters, and a whole lot of information on creatures from all over, "It's not a lot, but it's very complete. Sammy and I focused most on things that could live and hunt in these areas, and then we got the information on it, if it's safe to approach it, and Sammy even tried to cross-reference it with werewolves. You know, to know when it's safe for them to interact with the creatures or not."

Stiles has his eyes wide, leafing through the book reverently.

"This is freaking amazing" the kid whispers.

"You really liked it?"

"I loved it, it's great. It's way better than the Bestiary we stole form the Argents – that thing is no use and it's in archaic Latin, only Lydia can read it." He looks up then, smiles softly, "Thank you."

Dean nods and looks down, getting up.

"We should head inside, it's getting cold."

He's almost to the door when he feels Stiles's arms around him. He freaks out for a moment, and then he hugs his kid back, tightly, as if afraid to let him go.

When he pulls away, Stiles is smiling at him again.

"I'm glad you decided to come."

"Me too, kid. Me too."

X

When Dean wakes up the next day it's not like he expected – Sam is sleeping on the bed, he's on a mattress on the floor, and suddenly there's a startled shout and he's up in a second, opening the door.

The Sheriff is standing by Stiles's doorway, hands on his hips, voice exasperated – but with a certain tired tone, as if he's done this a thousand times before.

"Stiles, how many times do I have to tell you? Derek has to use the door. Every damn weekend!" he snaps, turning around and going downstairs.

Curious, Dean takes a peek inside his kid's room – suddenly, he wishes he hadn't.

Derek has a hand on his face, and Stiles is draped all over him, his back shaking in laughter.

Oh man, he's not ready for this.

He's so not ready for this.