Her Favorite

It's the anniversary of the Hale house fire. Stiles spends the day with Derek, secrets are shared, guards are let down, and new traditions are born. Probably the fluffiest thing I have ever written (and I write a lot of fluff and feels). Fair warning.

The idea for this came to me and I wanted to do it as a chapter for my story The Texting Adventures of Sourwolf and Stiles but the timeline didn't fit so I made it a one shot. It went a lot longer and a lot fluffier than I intended, but I'm still pretty happy with it. :) Hope you enjoy!

It was a Saturday so Stiles didn't have to be in school. He woke up at school time though and once he saw the date on his phone he couldn't go back to sleep, the knowledge circling in his mind. Finally he gave in and sent a text against his better judgement.

Hey man, I kno what day it is and I kno u probably dont want to deal with people today and that's fine, trust me I get it, if there was ever a day that you got a free pass to sulk and be alone its now. Your probably rolling your eyes as u read this, wondering why you would want me of all people today but Iv been there. I just, idk Im here if u need anything.

He honestly wasn't expecting a response. It's not like Derek ever texted him, or anyone else, on a good day. But moments later his phone chimed with an incoming message.

Who told you?

Nobody. I remembr Dad coming home from work that day. It was kinda a big case. Stiles thought carefully about how he worded the message, not wanting to cross a line.

10 years ago today. Derek answered.

Im sorry. I kno hearing that dosnt help, but I am. Is Braeden with u?

No. She had a work thing and I don't even think she knows. I didn't mention it.

Stiles sighed as he got out of bed, digging through his dresser for a pair of jeans. B ready. Im picking u up. We'll go for a drive.

Derek didn't answer, so Stiles assumed that meant he didn't want to go. He got dressed and hopped into the Jeep anyway. As he drove past Derek's loft though, the older man was outside waiting, leaning against the bumper of his car with his hands in his pockets.

Stiles pulled into the driveway and Derek silently got into the passenger seat. "Anywhere in particular you wanna go?" Stiles asked.

"Just drive." He answered, head turned toward the window.

They drove in silence for almost half an hour before Derek spoke again."How did you know?" He asked. "That the absolute last thing I wanted today was to be alone?"

Stiles shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just kinda guessed. It happens to me every year. Everybody, even Scott, avoids me like the plague on the anniversary of the day Mom died. It's like they don't want to make things worse, so they think the best thing they can do is to stay away. Nobody knows what to say, and they don't realize that awkward is better than nothing. And then I feel like a jerk when I think of bringing it up cause I don't wanna make them feel guilty..."

Derek nodded. "That's exactly it. Nobody understands though."

"Trust me. I do. You feel like crawling into a shell and hiding away from the rest of the world, waiting out those 24 hours like a hurricane. But being alone just makes it worse." Stiles said, making a right turn. He didn't realize that he was headed in the direction of the Hale land until it was too late. Derek's sharp intake of breath filled the silent Jeep, his hands curled into tight fists against his thighs as he smelled the familiar woods.

"Crap. Crap crap crap…" Stiles muttered, whipping his head around, searching for a place beside the road wide enough to turn around. "I'm sorry, so so sorry, just…"

"No." Derek interrupted him. "Keep driving."

Stiles turned his head toward the older man, seeing his eyes alertly watching the road ahead. "You sure?"

"Yeah."

Stiles drove until they came to the entrance of the long winding driveway. The one that would inevitably end up curving toward the clearing that once held the Hale family home. The one that still smelled scorched, months and months after the county had hauled away the last piece of rubble. There was now a large metal gate blocking the entrance.

"I um… I think I'm gonna go for a walk. If that's okay?" Derek said quietly, hand already on the door handle.

"Sure. Yeah. No problem. I'll be right here." Stiles turned off the ignition as Derek's eyes turned toward his. "You can come. If you want."

"I could go for a hike." Stiles said nonchalantly as he put his keys in his hoodie pocket and opened his own door. They each walked around the side of the sign closest to them then Stiles let Derek take the lead, not wanting to make him feel like he had to keep going. They walked all the way down the drive, only stopping when the toes of Derek's boots touched the line where the front steps of the house once stood.

The werewolf knelt down, backs of his thighs resting on his calves, and placed a hand on the grass to steady himself. Stiles wasn't sure what to do, what would make things worse instead of helping, so he stayed standing a few steps behind Derek. The kneeling man reached out his free hand, scooping up a handful of the ash and dirt left behind and letting it sift through his fingers. A few handfuls later, he spoke. "She would have been happy."

"Your Mom?" Stiles asked, moving so that he was standing next to Derek.

"Yeah. She would have been happy that I found a pack outside of the family." His lips curved into a small, sad smile. "She would have loved you guys."

"Really?" Stiles took a risk and sat down.

"Oh yeah. She would have had all of you over every Sunday for dinner. She treated the end of each week like it was a huge holiday. Like we needed to celebrate that we had survived another seven days. Guess she was right."

Stiles sensed the conversation going down a very depressing path so he jumped in, misery loves company, and all that. "Do you know why it has always been Lydia for me? Why I spent eleven years of my life chasing after one girl? Because my Mom picked her."

That got Derek's attention. He turned towards the younger man, a puzzled expression on his face, so Stiles continued. "The first day of third grade, my parents walked me into the classroom and Dad warns me not to get too many girlfriends on the first day, as if that has ever been an issue with me, and Mom slaps him on the arm and says 'He doesn't need a bunch of girls. He just needs one special one." So I, obnoxiously inquisitive even then, ask her how I was supposed to tell. She looks around the room for a minute then kneels down beside me and points over to the corner. 'See that girl right there?' She asks me, pointing to this tiny little girl with red braids and a blue dress. 'She has all those kids around her, wanting her to notice them but all she keeps looking at is that bookshelf. She'll never say it but she just wants them all to leave so she can pick out a good book. She's the kinda girl you want. Her mind is just as beautiful as the rest of her. She's gonna be a tough one to catch, but baby she's worth it. If you ever get a chance to have her, never ever let her go."

Stiles ran his hands through the grass at his feet. "Soon after that she got sick. It got worse instead of getting better and I always just kinda looked at her picking Lyd for me as the last real bit of parenting she got to do."

"Have you ever told her?" Derek's voice snapped Stiles out of his thoughts.

"Lydia? Hell no. I mean, she knows that I've liked her since we were kids, but that's a lot of pressure to put on someone, ya know? 'My mother chose you as my betrothed. Us living happily ever after was her dying wish.'"

Derek nodded in agreement but said "Still, you should give it a shot. Life's too short not to." He looked back at the spot where his childhood home had once stood and suddenly stood up. "We can go."

"You sure? I don't have anything else to do today. We can stay as long as you want."

Derek shook his head. "No point. They're not here anymore." The walk back to the Jeep and the ride back to Derek's loft were silent.

After he dropped Derek off and pulled out onto the road, an idea popped into Stiles's head. It was one of those ideas that as soon as you thought of it you knew it was either going to be one of the best things you ever did or an disaster of epic proportions, no in between. So Stiles crossed his fingers and headed to Scott's house to plan.

The next evening Derek put down the book he was trying to read to check the new message his phone had alerted. Yesterday had been hard. Stiles had helped, a lot more than he ever thought he would, but it was still hard. And he missed Braeden but didn't want to become one of those clingy boyfriends. Had it been any other weekend that she had left, it wouldn't have phased him, she just picked a bad time.

Emergency pack meeting. All attendance required. Stilinski home. ASAP. His mind started reeling as he slipped his jacket on his shoulders and grabbed his keys, wondering what in the world his pack had managed to get themselves into now.

He whipped into Stiles's driveway, behind Kira and Lydia's cars, Stiles's Jeep and Scott's bike, the Sheriff's and Jordan's cruisers and what appeared to be Melissa McCall's car. Whatever was wrong was serious.

He entered the living room, to find it empty save for the stray jacket and pair of shoes that had been removed. Then the smell hit him. He followed the scent to the sound of voices, which seemed unusually cheerful for an emergency pack meeting, toward the kitchen. Peeking his head around the doorway without a sound, he was shocked by what he saw.

Melissa was stirring something on the stove top while the sheriff was chopping an array of vegetables beside her. Lydia was sectioning out what appeared to be bread dough into rolls while Perrish arranged them on a pan and Kira was spooning something into a baking dish. Malia was carefully setting the dining room table and Scott and Liam had been sentenced to dish duty. It wasn't until Stiles came down the stairs behind him, that his presence was known.

"Guys! Seriously?! I leave for two seconds to change my shirt because SOMEONE, cough, Liam, cough, had to go and spill pasta sauce all over me, and you let him sneak in?!" Everyone turned, seeing Derek in the doorway.

"What the hell is happening?" He asked.

"I guess Stiles should be the one to explain. Since it was his idea." A new voice entered the room, Italian leather boots kicking the door closed behind her. Braeden. She crossed the room quickly and wrapped her arms around Derek. "Just in time." She said as his disbelieving arms found their way to her waist.

"Okay," Stiles started, nervous hands running through his hair. "We were talking yesterday and you told me a little about your Mom. About how she would have invited us all over for dinner every Sunday. How important that tradition was to her." He looked around the room. "I know we aren't your family. We can never be what they were to you, and we don't want you to think we're trying to replace them. I just, WE just thought, maybe, if you wanted, that this was a tradition we could keep going."

Derek looked around the room, at his pack: his new family. Stiles, Scott, Braeden, Liam, Kira, Lydia, Malia, Jordan, Melissa and Stiles's Dad. All the people who were here, in less than a day's notice He thought about all those who he knew would come back eventually and be present for future Sunday dinners: Isaac, Jackson, Cora, Chris Argent, Ethan and Danny. Then there were the lives they had lost. Alison, Aiden, Erica, Boyd and Laura. They were there with them in spirit. His new pack. All those people, piled into the Stilinski family kitchen, because they cared. They cared about him.

He placed a quick kiss to Braeden's forehead before letting her go, crossing the room in two strides and pulling Stiles into a hug. "Thank you. So much. All of you." He looked around the room again as he let go of Stiles and nodded, a huge grin on his face. "Every Sunday."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief that he approved of the surprise and returned to their assigned tasks. Derek looked at the young man beside him with awe and pulled him into another hug. "If you only knew what this means Stiles… That you gave me back this piece of my old life, this piece of my Mom… " Before he let him go this time, he whispered quietly, so only Stiles could hear. "You would have been her favorite."

Thoughts? Comments? Critiques? I'd love to hear what you have to say!