Imagine all the Hale kids plus their cousins all at the park and kid stiles is there playing with kid Cora and her cousins then they make Derek play with them. Derek is classic middle child. He’s older than the little kids but younger than Laura and the other cousins. Stiles absolutely loves playing with Derek. Sometimes it’s hard to keep up with the werewolf kids and even the human ones too but Derek stays behind with stiles until he catches up. Then when it’s time to leave Talia calls over the kids with a loud whistle (lol my mom actually does this) and all the kids all start herding back to the car, including stiles who is just following along. It takes Talia when they’re half way home to realize that she took an extra kid with her, she didn’t even smell him cause they’ve all been rolling around him all day. Good thing she knows Claudia so she won’t be too freaked out.
She gets half way home and realises there’s 11 heartbeats in the back seat when there should only be 10 (I know, what car fits 11 kids, we’ll, they’re small and children - especially werewolf pups - have no regards for safety). She pulls over and turns around to see stiles sitting between Cora and Derek with a big smile on his face.
I like to think that Talia, Noah and Claudia grew up around the same time and know each other well, or maybe Peter caused a lot of trouble growing up and Noah was a new deputy that often had to deal with him (like Parrish with Stiles), so she knows Stiles and just drives him home. Chances are, Stiles snuck out of the house to go play at the park in the first place.
Derek's curious about Sam's history with the boys.
TW: language, mentions of abuse, alcohol, and r*pe.
As Derek and Sam sat in her room looking over her notes, the older Hale was curious. He admired her neat note taking, the opposite of his own scribbled-cursive handwriting.
It was simple. Readable. Yet small…
He looked over an old notebook when she first took note of her abilities before he lost his alpha spark and a name caught his eyes.
Stiles.
In the journal, it read, "Stiles doesn't know about this yet. I don't know if I can control it. The voices. The meet ups in my dreams. He doesn't have answers for that. Neither does Derek or Scott. I doubt Deaton does either."
This is when she was freshly bitten, he thought.
Instead of being scared of what he thought, she was worried about Stiles. The only human in the pack. It was understandable.
He put down the notebook. "Hey," He gains her attention, her eyebrows raised in awareness.
"How'd you and the boys become friends?", he asked. She smiled, closing the book in front of her.
"That's kind of a big trip down memory lane.", she chuckled. "I guess it all happened after Jayson left."
He shook his head as he backed away. "You and Sam can stay here for all I care. Let her deal with your shit."
The older Wilson left the house with a slam from the front door, making his mother flinch from the loud noise.
Behind her, her daughter stood on the stairwell, visibly upset at her older brother leaving so abruptly and angrily, no less.
Immediately, she was brought to tears. Denise turned around to see Sam bubble eyed and her shoulders dropped as she cooed, holding her arms out for the girl.
Sam immediately ran into her mother's arms, silently weeping. Was it her fault? Was her father never returning? Did he really die? From what? Where was he? Why'd he leave to begin with?
Why was Jayson so upset?
The girl never understood it. Months after Jayson left, school began for the youngest Wilson.
She was new to Beacon Hills and everyone that has already lived here seemed to know each other already. She didn't want to just go up to anyone and intrude. It wasn't nice.
As she was introduced in her 3rd grade class, a sparkly eyed boy began to be intrigued by the girl while the rest of the class either snickered at the girl's shyness or ignored her as she found her seat.
As lunch arrived, Sam sat alone, taking note of the cliques of the elementary school. Just barely taking a bite of her lunch, the boy from before rushed to her table, startling her with his boisterous personality.
"Hey! I'm Stiles! What's your name?", he introduced with a grin. Sam stood in shock for a moment. He… wanted to sit with her?
She looked around before looking at him who looked at her with a confused, but amused expression. "Yes, you.", he laughed. The girl smiles. "I'm Sam.", she says.
He grins anyways. "I knew that. Just wanted to see what you'd say. Anyways, this school's boring and everyone's already made friends because they're popular," He said, rolling his eyes before pausing.
His eyes widened in adoration before softening as his expression became almost lovesick. Sam followed his eyesight to see a redheaded girl. "Who's that?", she asked.
"Lydia Martin. The prettiest girl in Beacon Hills.", he said, dreamily. Sam looked at Stiles once more and snickered. "You have a crush.", she teased.
Stiles snapped out of his lovesick trance and frowned at the girl. "N-No, I don't! I just think she's pretty is all!", he says, his cheeks growing a bright red.
Sam giggled at his bashfulness. Stiles chuckled as well and the two began talking over lunch before returning to class once more.
Sam learned that there were more bullies than just mean girls. There was a main bully and his name was Jackson Whittemore.
He was popular because he was fast and apparently "funny". He attracted all the girls which boosted his little ego.
Sam didn't understand it. Neither did Stiles.
At the end of the day, Stiles decided he wanted to hang out some more with the Wilson girl and let her follow him home, promising that they'd play video games on the console he had gotten from his mom.
As they walked in, Stiles announced himself to his mother who became aware of her son's new friend.
The woman smiled, softly scolding Stiles. "You can't just take everyone home. I have to make sure her mom knows she's here.", she says before turning to Sam.
"Do you know your mom's number?", she asked. Sam nodded and let the mother know before rushing off to play with Stiles.
Denise was worried once she got the call, but learning that her daughter received a friend on her first day of school, it was one less thing to worry about.
From then on, the two had become inseparable. Whatever Stiles wanted to do, Sam agreed and vise versa. It was a lot of fun with just those two. In the months they had become friends, Sam learned a few things. Stiles' dad was a deputy, and his mom was sick.
And gradually she got worse and ended up dying. Sam didn't know until she saw that Stiles wasn't at school one day, which was a rarity.
After school, she headed to his house and knocked on his door. For a couple of moments, no one answered until Mr. Stilinski opened the door, the toll of his wife's death evident on his face.
The man gave Sam a soft, welcoming smile anyways and let her in to see his son. Not for his own sanity, but for his son's as well. He needed someone even if it wasn't him.
Sam walked up the stairs to Stiles' room and knocked on his door. A quiet "yes?" could be heard from the other side and Sam peeked in the boy's room.
Stiles was laid in his bed, his back facing the rest of the room. He was picking at the paint on his wall, miserably.
His whole room was full of sorrow. His curtains were closed when he usually had them open, he hadn't cleaned his floor and his backpack looked like it hadn't even been touched.
"It's me.", Sam said softly. The boy paused and turned to look at her. "You're here… why?", he asked.
She walked up to him. "I missed you at school today. It was boring without you.", she said, her attention driven to her shoes now.
Stiles frowned. He wasn't sure what to do anymore. Was there any point of going anymore?
He sucked up his own feelings and gave her a smile. "I'm fine. Things like this happen apparently. I wasn't alive when my grandma died so it's not that bad.", he rambled.
Sam frowned. He just… smiled? It was the opposite of how his room looked. He was lying.
She walked closer and sat on his bed. "Stiles… it's okay if you're upset. You're allowed to be. It's sad. You're supposed to feel sad and that's okay. It's okay to be sad.", she expressed, trying to get him to understand. She hoped he understood what she was trying to say.
It wasn't his fault.
Stiles couldn't keep his smile for long. Sobs bubbled up in his chest as he sat up and clung to Sam like a koala, refusing to let go as he wept.
Jumbled words like, "She left me", "I did it", "I killed her" reached Sam's ears and she refused to let him think that way while she was there.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he thought that way. The boy couldn't hurt a fly even if he wanted to.
For hours, Sam stayed by Stiles' side until his sobs died down to soft sniffles even after he fell asleep. Noah found the kids napping on Stiles' bed, taking in his son's clingy, sleeping stature.
He was grateful that Sam was here for him and that she stayed. He'd let her mother know what happened and why.
When Denise found out, she was apologetic and even brought to tears herself. Stiles was without a mother and Noah was without a wife.
It was gonna be a heavy change for the both of them, so she decided that she and Sam would take care of them when they needed help. Even if they didn't need help, they'd be there for comfort. To be there when they just wanted to talk.
The funeral came and went and the two stayed by each other's side even after meeting another boy named Scott McCall, who's mom was close to Stiles' dad and was there when his mother died.
The boy came up to the two, mainly apologetic to Stiles. Despite the saddened event, Scott managed to still become acquainted with the two.
Since then, their bond became closer. After the funeral, Sam couldn't help but be saddened as she laid in her room. She hoped her father wasn't dead. She missed Jay so much.
Later that night, Denise sat Sam down in her room, a long talk ensued.
"So, as you know, your daddy hasn't been around anymore.", Denise started. Sam nods. "Well, I have this friend who likes me and I… maybe like him back.", Denise explains.
Sam's eyebrows raised in interest. "You have a crush?"
Denise watched her daughter's facial expression, searching for sadness, or resentment. When she found neither, she continued. "I do. And he likes me back, but I was wondering if that was okay with you?"
Sam sat up, almost excited and nodded with a smile. "I'm okay with that, Mama. As long as you're happy!", she says, making her mother smile with shiny eyes.
She brought the girl in her arms and placed a loving kiss on her forehead. "I knew you'd be okay with it.", she hummed, squeezing her child. "My sweet girl.", she squealed and playfully peppered kisses all over her face, making Sam laugh.
"Mama!", Sam giggled. The woman stopped, giggling herself. "Alright, alright. Sleep tight, baby. I'll bring him tomorrow.", she says, tucking the girl in and leaving her room.
Sam waited until her mother was down the hall and rushed to her window, looking up at the bright moon in the sky.
She clasped her hands together and spoke her wishes. After she finished, she snuggled under her blankets, excited now. She had hoped the man was really kind. Kind enough to like her mom. She hoped he was kind enough to be nice to her too.
The next day, Sam finally got to meet the mystery man, she was nervous. The man was fairly groomed, had a sweet smile and kind eyes, though the sudden shift in atmosphere around her made her feel… off.
She didn't question it, however. She was excited to meet him. Carl Smith, that was his name. He was a carpenter and visited the antique store.
He was sweet to her and her mother just like she wished. He even moved in and treated them like his own family after the first 5 months.
One night, Sam climbed up on the counter in the kitchen, looking for a mug to drink warm milk to get to sleep. Her mom was at the shop for the night and usually Sam held down the fort.
While grabbing at a mug, she hadn't realized she knocked over a glass until it was too late. She dropped a glass before. It was an accident. Her mom never yelled at her about it, understanding that the girl usually liked being independent with getting her own needs if nearby, but that didn't slide with Carl.
The shattering sound woke him up, and he stormed into the kitchen, finding Sam on the counter, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
"What're you doing!?", he yelled. Sam shrunk, still holding the mug. "I-I was trying to get milk…"
Carl shook his head and pointed a finger at the girl. "Stay right there." He moved around the shattered glass and got the broom and dustpan before sweeping up the shards.
After he was finished, he yanked the girl down from the counter, the tight grip on her arm making her whimper.
"Next time you need something, you ask. Don't just do shit by yourself.", he grounded out. "You understand?"
Sam's lips trembled as she nodded. Carl took the mug away and shoved the girl off to bed.
Needless to say, Sam was afraid the whole night. The next day at school, the young trio sat in class, the day much better than the previous night.
They were laughing about something Scott had done. The soft boy stumbling over his words had tried to deflect his embarrassment. As Stiles tried to make a joke, something caught his eye.
Now, he was no stranger when it came to cuts, scrapes and bruises. The boy was often clumsy and often ran as if he were to fall flat on his face if he never caught himself. His head tilted in curiosity as he gained Sam’s attention.
How’d you get that bruise, he’d ask stunning the girl into silence. Sam looked down at her sleeve that flipped open after she’d washed her hands, revealing the bruise she had gained last night. She only noticed how bad it was after waking up and letting the harsh, sore, gripped appendage sit without treating it. Pulling the sleeve back over her wrist, she gave them a smile.
“I must’ve bumped into something last night. I think I was super tired and ran into something in the dark when I was getting something to drink.”, she excused. Scott agreed. “I do that sometimes.”, he said. Sam chuckled. “Of course you would.”
However, that didn’t slide past Stiles. The bruise was photographed in his mind. The bruise didn’t look like she had bumped into something. It almost looked like a hand…
A very large hand. Way bigger than hers.
He shook his head. He knew better than to play detective. It wasn’t his business.
Since that day, he’d see less and less of Sam. She would be nothing more than a hi or bye and rush off where he couldn’t follow. She didn’t even take the bus with him and Scott anymore. She wasn’t there to celebrate when his dad had become the sheriff either.
And the times when she was in class, she’d never meet his eyes. She wouldn’t talk to Scott either, which at the time, he even hoped she would. It didn’t even have to be him that she talked to, but he wished she’d just talk.
One day, Stiles found her defending a boy from two bullies. They were in the 6th grade and way bigger than her and the asthmatic boy. And yet, she fought them off. Albeit, getting hurt herself, she seemed to withstand their violence towards her and ran off when a teacher came and stopped the altercation.
Stiles couldn’t help but watch from the sidelines. What could he do if she didn’t want to talk…?
After school, he caught her reluctantly getting in a car with a man and automatically felt defensive until he realized that must’ve been the man she talked about before.
He still didn’t feel right. The man hadn’t come out of the car to address what happened with the boys from before to the teachers. He should’ve cared.
Stiles sighed and went home. He was still worried. Why wouldn’t she talk to him? What was up with her weird, evasive behavior….? Why did she seem to have new bruises every time he saw her?
They weren’t even like bruises the teachers paid attention to. They were hidden, she even had bandaids to cover them, so of course teachers would assume she had some accident. That was normal for a kid to get scraped up here and there.
But it was a new thing almost every day. He paid attention.
He was sure of it. This thinking kept him up all night. That man couldn’t possibly be hurting Sam. There’s just no way. He didn’t even think Mrs. Wilson was capable of hurting Sam. She was sweet, wonderful, and very welcoming.
The last time he’d been to her house, he had a weird vibe about the man there. He didn’t look sober half of the time. He smelled like alcohol here and there. It had him worrying about his own father and how much liquor the man consumed.
After he left, he didn’t feel like leaving yet, and Sam didn’t want him or Scott to go. In fact, she seemed…almost desperate for them to stay. Is that why she isn’t talking to either of them? It was kinda childish of her, if that was the case, considering they’d see each other almost every day.
But if it wasn’t because of that…
He sighed. He really hoped she was okay.
The next day only made his anxiety spike. He hadn’t seen her just yet. They arrived almost at the same time every day at school. He searched for Scott and found him saying bye to his mom.
Hours had passed and it was already noon. Sam hadn’t arrived. Stiles glanced at Scott worriedly who was unaware of his worrisome looks.
Scott came up to Stiles, confused about the boy’s jittery behavior. “Hey, you seen Sam yet?”, Stiles asked. Scott shook his head. “She should be here soon anyways. Maybe she’s sick?”
Stiles hoped so. He really did.
More hours had passed and it was nearly the end of the day. She still hadn't shown up.
Stiles did the only thing he knew best, and that was to cause a distraction. The boy grabbed his desk, squeaking it back and forth along the tile floor of the classroom, gaining his teacher’s attention.
The teacher, annoyed with the boy’s action, promptly sent him to the principal’s office which he happily obliged.
The principal of the elementary school scolded Stiles for his disruptive behavior as he called the boy’s father.
Mr. Stilinski, already exhausted from the responsibilities of his new position, made it to the school ready to scold his child. Stiles didn’t care about any of that, though. That was the least of his worries.
Before his father could start, Stiles yanked the man outside, desperate for his attention. “Dad, you have to go to Sam’s house.”
Noah looked exasperated, and even disappointed. “Stiles, really? You caused a disruption all because Sam’s missed one day?”
Stiles’ eyes got glossy. He wasn’t listening. “Dad, I’m serious!”, his voice cracked. “It’s way more than that. Just-- please go to Sam’s house. Please go check up on her.”, he begged, making his father falter in his disappointment for the boy’s strange behavior.
Noah sighed. “I’ll go check. But after that, you go back to class and you apologize to your teacher.”, he reprimanded and left the boy in the cold hallway.
Stiles couldn’t move. His heart was in his stomach. All his questions were jumbled, but remained the same.
Is Sam okay?
Noah rode down the road to the Wilson residence, and called Denise. Getting a quick answer, he heard, “Hey, Noah!”
He smiled, “Hey, uh, is Sam home?”, he asked. There was a pause. “Uh, no? She should be at school. Carl said he’d drop her off while I was at work. My mom needed me to come in early for the big sales today.”, Denise responds.
Noah’s face dropped. His heart bumped in his chest as well. The girl wasn’t at school, his son’s panicked behavior…
That led him to believe Stiles knew more than he was saying. “Alright, then. I’ll talk to you later.”, he said, abruptly hanging up the phone. He sped down the road, quickly getting to the house, finding the driveway empty.
Sam wasn’t at school. Stiles was sure of that.
Noah quickly got out of his car and knocked loudly on the door. “Hello, is anyone home?”, he exclaimed loudly.
Once he didn’t get a response, he quickly repeated his question before ramming his shoulder into the door, quickly getting it open.
The sheriff looked around, seeing an empty living room. No one was home.
Correction, no one was downstairs. He walked to the staircase, looking up as he called, “Sam?”
No response.
He bound up the stairs with harsh, heavy steps, quickly finding the girl’s room. Once he opened the door, his steps stopped. His heart nearly shattered as he saw the girl’s tattered clothes, or what was left of them. Her bloody, beaten face next to shards of brown glass that belonged to a bottle of some sort.
He rushed over to her, trying to find a sign that she was at least alive. He found a pulse. It was there, just faint. She wasn’t responding to any of his words as he held her.
He grabbed his comms, immediately rushing for an ambulance and for his other comrades to find the man that had done this. Sam was quickly rushed to the hospital, the poor sight of the girl breaking the heart of Melissa McCall.
Sam was still unresponsive, but her pulse was much the opposite. It became stronger after she received her treatment and laid quietly in her hospital room.
Denise was immediately called to the hospital, sobbing at the state of her daughter. It was my fault, she cried. I should’ve taken her to school, she sobbed.
Noah and his deputies found the drunken man at a bar down the street, promptly arrested for attempted murder, abuse and rape of a child. Despite the man’s drunken, disgusting excuses, Noah made sure Carl was going straight to prison. He could do that. He was the sheriff after all.
After the filing, Stiles was brought to the department, still worried. “Dad…?”, he’d call, making his father look at him with glassy eyes. The situation hadn’t made its way to the school. It hadn’t hit him until now. Until he saw his son’s worried, unaware face.
Noah walked up to his son, kneeling and placed a hand on his shoulder. “She’s…Well…Sam’s going to be okay.”, he said. Stiles shook his head, his anxiety spiking once more. “She’s…dead…?”
Noah shook his head quickly, and explained simply that she was hurt and that Stiles was right to be worried.
“How did you know something was happening?”, he asked his son. “She wasn’t talking to me or Scott. She had all these bruises and was making up excuses for them. I just…I wasn’t sure what to do.”, Stiles squeaked quietly with a shrug.
Noah wrapped his arms around the boy. “You did the right thing telling me when you did.”, he told Stiles. Stiles hugged his dad just as tight, letting out some sobs into his dad’s shoulder.
Out of relief and sadness, he was glad she was alive. Hurt, but alive nonetheless.
When she was finally awake, he got to see her and brought every single thing He could think of that would cheer her up.
For hours, they'd play little games here and there. When he took a break, he came back to hear Sam's sobs. He peeked in her hospital room to see her mom holding the girl's hand as tears ran down her face.
"I won't be selfish again…! I won't get in trouble anymore! I won't fight anymore! I just want daddy to come home!", Sam sobbed. Denise brought the girl in her arms. She wished her husband had come home too. Maybe none of this would've happened if she hadn't brought up her worries about the town.
Maybe he wouldn't have left.
Sam sighed. "And that's what happened. Since then, Stiles stuck to me like glue. Scott didn't know what happened. I asked him not to tell Scott."
Derek wanted to roll his eyes. That plan didn't work, since Stiles had already expressed his anger toward the Wilson men and explained what happened.
Though, he was angry himself. He was angry that it happened at all.
"That shouldn't have happened to you. Not at all.", Derek says, shaking his head. "But it did, and I'm here.", Sam says.
He looks in her eyes, "And you're so strong for that. For withstanding everything that bastard did to you. You shouldn't have had to. It was fucked up.", he said.
Sam smiled softly and moved closer to crawl into his arms. "It was, but it won't happen again.", Sam said. There wasn't much she could say about it. What was done, was done. She killed him already. He couldn't harm anyone else anymore.
His soul belonged to her after all.
Derek placed a kiss on top of her forehead. "And I'll make sure it won't happen again. Ever."
Imagine Stiles and Derek were neighbours as kids and one day they try the tin can string phone experiment. They sit by their windows with their makeshift phone strung between the houses and talk all night long.
I just realized that the actress playing Paige (Madison McLaughlin) look like Dylan. LIKE GURL ARE YOU HIS GENDER BENT VERSION OR WHAT?!?!! (Come on, she could be young Stiles's sister or something.) AND THIS IS WHY I CHOOSE TO BELIEVE STILES IS DEFINITELY DEREK'S TYPE
