Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I do not own Teen Wolf

Just a little Christmas one shot. Hope you enjoy.

Please Review.

***TW

John looked at the tall Christmas tree with a critical eye. It was a beautiful tree, easily nine feet tall with bright green needles that were fluffy and full, but there was something about it that just didn’t feel right to him. It was honestly the perfect Christmas tree and exactly what he had been looking for, but something just felt off. He was just getting ready to move on to the next tree, when a little head popped out from the tree, shaggy chestnut hair falling into large, honey brown eyes.

“You don’t want this tree, Mr. Cop Sir.”

John raised a curious eyebrow as a kid no older than five or six stepped out from the tree smelling strongly of pine and looking like a little wood sprite . “And why don’t I want this tree, it’s perfect?”

Scrunching his cute face up, the little boy looked up at the tree that was towering over him. “This tree isn’t right for you, Mr. Cop Sir.”

“It’s not? How do you know?”

“I just know these things.” The boy said simply as he wrapped skinny arms around his thin body. John couldn’t help but notice that the boy’s body wasn’t just thin, but too thin to be considered healthy. Not only that, but the boy was wearing ratty clothes that were too big for him and a coat that had numerous holes in it.

“You just know these things, huh?” John said as he looked back up at the gorgeous tree. “I think this tree will look magnificent down at the police station.”

The little boy rubbed his red nose then gave his head a shake. “This tree is boring, it has no character.”

“No character,” John repeated with a smile. “Well, I guess I can’t have that, can I? Since you seem to know so much about Christmas trees, why don’t you help me pick one out for the station that has loads of character?”

The little boy nodded his head excitedly. “I can do that, I’m the best Christmas tree picker outer here.”

“Then I’m awfully glad to have bumped into you, young man. I’m Sheriff Stilinski.” John said holding out his hand. “I could sure use a good tree picker outer.”

The little boy rubbed his dirty hands on his jeans before grabbing the sheriff’s hand. “I’m Stiles.”

John scowled, not liking how cold the little boy’s hand was. It was twenty degrees and windy out and the boy wasn’t wearing gloves, boots, a scarf, a hat, or even a decent winter coat. The poor kid was freezing. “Are you here with your parents, Stiles?”

Stiles chewed on his lip as he kicked at the small dusting of snow at his feet. “I-I’m here looking at trees, Mr.” the little boy answered quietly. “I love Christmas trees, even if they don’t have lights and decorations on them yet. Christmas trees are the prettiest.”

John watched as the little boy reached out and gently caressed the tree, a sad smile on his face. Looking around the Christmas tree farm, he didn’t see anyone looking for a missing little boy or frantically calling for anyone by the name of Stiles. There were plenty of children running around excitedly under their parents watchful eyes, but no one was looking at Stiles as if he was theirs.

“C-Can I still help you look for a Christmas tree, Mr. Sheriff?” the little boy asked shyly, his eyes wide and pleading. “I never got to pick out a Christmas tree before.”

“Sure, kid,” John said, his heart going out to the boy who had just minutes ago proclaimed himself to be the best Christmas tree picker outer. He didn’t know who he was or were he came from, but he had a feeling that the boy didn’t have the best home life. He was wearing clothes that were barely a step up from rags, his hair was greasy and in his eyes, and he looked as though he hasn’t had a decent meal in months.

Stiles clapped his red chapped hands, a huge grin breaking out on his face. “Thank you, thank you, Mr. Sheriff.” Grinning, he reached out and took the sheriff’s hand.

Taking off the brown scarf that was wrapped snugly around his neck, John knelt down then wrapped it around the boy’s thin neck. Stiles was so small that the scarf wrapped around him four times with the ends still hanging down to his knees.

Stiles buried his face in the warm scarf then inhaled deeply. “You smell like a daddy, Mr. Sheriff. Are you a daddy?”

John didn’t know what a daddy smelled like, maybe he used the same soap or aftershave as the boy’s father. “Afraid not, kiddo, it’s just me.” He tried to hide the sadness in his voice, but he hated being reminded of what could have been. Claudia, his wife, had been eight months pregnant when she lost their little boy. It was shortly after their son’s death that they discovered that Claudia was sick, sick with a disease that she couldn’t win against. It was just him now...him and his memories and his dreams of what could have been. If Claudia hadn’t miscarried, their little boy would be about the same age as Stiles.

As if sensing the sheriff’s sadness, Stiles wrapped his arms around his legs and gave him a hug. “You can pretend that I’m your little boy while we pick out a Christmas tree, Sheriff. I promise that I’ll be a good little boy for you.”

John awkwardly patted the boy’s back, his heart heavy. He wished that this little boy was his, Stiles was sweet and adorable and absolutely perfect. “There are a lot of trees here, this could take a while.”

“Yes! This is my favorite place in Beacon Hills. Trees are the best.”

John fondly shook his head. “How about that one over there?” He asked, pointing to a tree that was similar in shape and size to the first tree he had been considering.

Skipping over to the tree, Stiles gently placed his hand on it. “It’s a good tree, Mr. Sheriff Sir, but it’s not right either.”

“No character?”

Stiles shook his head no, his shaggy brown hair flopping around in the wind. “This tree is big and beautiful and everyone loves it. Six families have already looked at it today gushing about how pretty it will look all lit up with lights. It will look pretty, but there are other trees here that will also look pretty. This tree will definitely find a home by the end of the night.”

“They were gushing, huh?” John chuckled as he moved on to the next tree, grinning softly when the little boy reached up and took his hand.

Stiles nodded his head seriously. “Everyone always picks the beautiful trees first. I understand, everyone always wants the strongest and prettiest trees in their homes for Christmas, but it makes the smaller and scragglier trees sad when everyone looks past them as if their not even in the room. Just because something is small, different, and slightly broken doesn’t mean that they don’t want a home and a family for Christmas. Even something ugly can turn out pretty with love and care.”

John felt a lump forming in his throat as he really looked at the kid. He had a feeling that the kid was no longer talking about Christmas trees. “You’re really passionate about Christmas trees?”

Stiles once again rubbed at his red nose as he sniffled. “I just feel bad for the trees that no one wants. It hurts when you have to stand there watching as all the other trees find a family and you’re the last one left standing all alone in an empty room.”

“Jesus, kid,” the sheriff muttered softly, the lump in his throat getting bigger. After this, he was never going to be able to look at Christmas trees the same way again. Normally he didn’t pick out the station’s Christmas tree, he always assigned that job for the newest deputies to do, but Parrish had gotten called out at the last minute so he had decided to do it for him. He didn’t celebrate Christmas seeing as he was alone and didn’t have anyone to celebrate it with, but he always made sure that the station was decorated for the holidays. Beacon Hills was a small town where pretty much everyone knew each other, so the station tended to get a lot of Christmas carolers and people dropping off goodies and gifts. His mouth was already watering in anticipation of Mrs. Crazwik. the old librarian, dropping off her traditional triple chocolate fudge brownies.

Stiles dropped his chin to chest. “If...if you don’t wanna look at one of the special trees, I’ll understand,” he said sadly as he reluctantly let go of the sheriff’s hand. “Who would want an ugly little tree in their home on Christmas anyway, not when there are so many perfect trees to chose from.”

Not caring that there was snow on the ground, John dropped to his knees, the cold and wet snow seeping through the thin material of his uniform pants. Cupping the boy’s chin, he lifted his head until the boy was looking at him. His heart broke when he saw that Stiles had started crying. “Hey now, Kiddo, I never said that I didn’t want to look at the special trees, so dry your eyes and take me to these special trees of yours.”

John didn’t even flinch when Stiles wiped his snotty nose with his hand then reached down and grabbed his with it. The boy was smiling brightly at him and he wasn’t going to let a little snot wipe that smile from Stiles’ face. Standing back up, he allowed the boy to lead him to a row with five of the saddest and ugliest Christmas trees he has ever laid eyes on. He could honestly understand why these trees were looked over, one was too small, most were missing needles or limbs, two were crooked and twisted, and all five were just downright ugly. These trees made Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree look beautiful.

Stiles stood proudly in front of the row of sad trees, his eyes shining with love. “These trees have character, Mr. Sheriff Sir. These trees know what it feels like to not be loved. Don’t they deserve a happy Christmas too?”

How could John say no when the kid was looking at him with those big pleading eyes. Eyes that seemed as though they were looking right into his soul. Eyes that it was clear to see knew first hand what it felt like to be overlooked and unloved. Clearing his throat, he jerkily nodded his head. “Which tree is your favorite, Stiles?”

Frowning thoughtfully, Stiles turned to look at the trees. Reaching out with a small hand, he started caressing each tree lovingly. “They’re excited,” he said softly. “They can’t believe that someone is actually considering one of them. Since the Christmas farm opened for the holiday season three weeks ago, not one person has looked at them. Can you imagine growing up knowing that someday you’re going to end up in a home surrounded by love and laughter, decorated with lights and ornaments, only to be passed over day after day and then thrown in a fire pit the day after Christmas, never getting to live your dream?”

John couldn’t believe that he was starting to tear up...over a god damn tree! How the hell was he only going to pick one tree after that? “Do you have a favorite tree, Stiles?” He asked again gruffly,

“I love them all, Sheriff,” Stiles said honestly. “How can I pick just one when all five want to have a home and be loved?”

The sheriff could have sworn for a second there that the kid’s eyes flashed purple before returning to their honey brown. It must have just been the sun playing tricks on him. “I-I guess I could also put a tree in my house,” he said somewhat sheepishly. He hadn’t put a tree in his home since his wife died.

Stiles let out a little squeak of excitement. “That’s wonderful, Sheriff Sir, that’s two trees that won’t be lonely on Christmas. I know what it feels like to be all alone on Christmas, and it’s not fun at all.”

“Christ!” John whispered under his breath. “I guess I can also put one of the smaller trees in my office, one in the break room at the station, and also one on my front porch.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open in shock. “But that’s all the special trees!” He gasped. “Are you really going to take all the special trees home for Christmas?”

Rubbing the back of his neck while looking at the five pitiful trees he had just committed himself to, John nodded his head. “Sure! Like you said, kid, everyone deserves a home for Christmas.”

Stiles literally threw himself at the Sheriff, hugging him around the legs as tightly as he could. “Thank you, Sheriff, thank you so much. The trees are so happy now, you’re such a good man. I wish that I was a tree too so I could get a home for Christmas.”

“Stiles?” The sheriff questioned, but before he could say more, Parrish came jogging up to them.

“There you are, Stiles, I have been looking all over for you.”

Slipping behind the sheriff’s legs, Stiles gave the deputy a shy wave. “Hi, Deputy Parrish Sir.” He greeted somewhat sadly. “Are you here to take me back?”

Parrish sighed heavily. “You know I am, kid. This is the fifth time this week.”

Stiles’ shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry to make you work extra hard, Deputy, I promise that I wont come back here again.”

The sheriff took a protective stance in front of the boy. “Deputy Parrish, do you know this boy?”

“A little, Sheriff,” Parrish admitted. “This is the fifth time this week I have been called out to Beacon Hill’s Group Home to track this little runaway down.”

“Not a runaway,” Stiles pouted. “Not really anyway. I just like coming here to talk to the trees and watch all the families. It’s not like anyone wants me at the home anyway.”

The sheriff draped his arm over the boy when he clung tighter to his leg. “Stiles,” he said, digging out his wallet and pulling out a ten dollar bill. “Why don’t you run and buy yourself a hot chocolate and a couple cookies then meet me at one of the picnic tables by Santa? Don’t forget the marshmallows for your hot chocolate.”

Stiles looked at the money like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Really, I can have hot chocolate and cookies?”

“Sure can,” John said fondly.

“Wow!” Stiles said as he took the money with too cold hands. “You really are the nicest person ever.”

John waited until Stiles was out of earshot before addressing his deputy. “What’s the boy’s story.”

“He’s an orphan, Sir,” Parrish said sadly. “Has been his entire life. He was found in the woods as a newborn five years ago by some hikers.”

John vaguely remembered that, but at the time he had been so wrapped up with his wife being sick and the loss of his own son that he hadn’t really paid much attention to the case. “Why wasn’t he adopted out?”

“He’s been in and out of homes, so many that it would make your head spin, but he always ends up back at the group home after a few weeks. No one can seem to be able to connect with the kid, and some say that he’s strange, that there’s something wrong with him. He likes to talk to trees and plants and animals. He was supposed to spend Christmas in a foster home, but at the last minute the family changed their mind.”

John’s heart dropped at hearing that, he hated hearing that the kid had no one. “How old is he?”

“He’s five, Sir.”

John’s eyes widened. “I thought maybe six or seven despite his size since he seems so intelligent.”

“Stiles is extremely smart,” Parrish confirmed. “He’s only been in kindergarten three months but they already want to move him up a few grades. Mrs. Grella, his social worker, is just worried that he won’t fit in with the older kids. Hell, from what she said, he doesn’t even fit in with the kids his own age.”

“Grella is his social worker?” John questioned, already formulating a plan. He has known Susie Grella since Elementary school, and she owed him a few favors thanks to him looking the other way a few times where her son and his delinquency was concerned. Kid would have spent most of his teen years in juvie if it hadn’t been for him.

Parrish smirked at the determined look in his boss’ eyes. He could tell that he liked the kid and both Stiles and the sheriff needed each other. “Boss, you know that I’m still learning my hellhound gifts, but if you take that boy in, I’d take him to see Talia or Deaton. I don’t know what he is, but all my senses are telling me that he is something supernatural?”

John had already figured that, he had seen the boy’s eyes flash purple. He was still new to the supernatural world himself, but he too felt that Stiles wasn’t completely human. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, Jordan, but I do find myself drawn to the boy.” It was odd how drawn to the boy he was, it was almost unnatural.

“His social worker told me that when he was three he asked to change his name from Michael, to Stiles. He said the name Stiles will sound better with his daddy’s last name. For two years he has talked about a daddy taking him home, never a mother. I don’t know, boss, Stiles Stilinski sounds pretty good to me.”

John kinda of thought so too, even if Stiles was a bit of a weird name. “Call Grella and tell her that I have Stiles and will return him to the home in a few hours. Also tell her that I will be in to see her first thing in the morning to talk to her about him.”

Grinning, Parrish clapped his boss on the back. “You’re a good man, Sheriff.”

Turning back to the pitiful trees, John groaned. “And, Parrish, find someone with a truck you can borrow to pick up these Charlie Brown trees.”

Parrish quirked an eyebrow. “For the burn pile, Sir?”

Snorting, John shook his head no. “Three for the station, son, and two for my home.” He still couldn’t believe that he was buying five ratty Christmas trees, his deputies were going to tease him to hell and back for his soft heart.

Parrish threw his head back laughing. “Stiles I take it?”

“And my inability to say no to those puppy dog eyes of his.”

***TW

After paying for five of the most pitiful trees on the farm, (no this isn’t a joke just ring the damn trees up), John made his way back to Stiles who was still sipping at his hot chocolate while munching on cookies. Taking a seat across from the boy, he gave him a small smile.

With a sad look on his face, Stiles looked around the farm before looking up at the sheriff. “Where’s Deputy Parrish? Is he going to take me back to the home now?”

“Deputy Parrish went to find a truck big enough for five very special Christmas trees. I’ll take you back to the home after you have finished your snack.”

With chocolate smeared across his cheek, Stiles smiled brightly. “The trees are very excited that they’re going to get a chance to make people happy with their colorful lights and decorations. I know they’re not perfect, but they still deserve a chance to be happy.”

“It doesn’t upset you that the trees get cut down and that they will eventually die?”

Stiles curiously tilted his head to the side. “In a way, but the trees here on the farm are grown specially to become Christmas trees and they know that. I would prefer it if they were dug up then replanted, but I understand that that costs money and is a lot of work. It’s okay though, their souls get reborn into another tree. They’re happy.”

John didn’t know what a five year old knew about souls and rebirth, but he was so serious and passionate that he found himself believing the kid. “So none of the trees are mad that they’re a Christmas tree?”

Pursing his lips, Stiles’ eyes scanned the lot. “That one,” he said pointing to a medium size tree that was extremely fat and bushy. “That tree wants to be a raccoon.”

John looked at the tree in question in disbelief. “That tree seriously wants to be a raccoon?”

Stiles started giggling madly. “You should see your face, Sheriff Stilinski,” He howled.

Looking to the boy who was laughing so hard that the was crying, John reached out and snatched one of his cookies. “That’s what you get for pranking me,” he said fondly, taking a bite of the cookie. “Little mischief maker.”

Stiles’ giggles slowly started to die down. “A tree wanting to be a raccoon. I can’t believe that you believed me.”

“Well, I’m not the one who can talk to trees.” John smirked, handing the boy a napkin to wipe his face.

Stiles wiped his face then blew his nose, which was getting redder the longer he was out in the cold. Turning in his seat, he looked over to where Santa was greeting kids and getting their picture taken with him. “Sheriff Sir, is that the real Santa?”

John internally cringed, how was he supposed to answer the boy honestly? Stiles was only five, he deserved the innocence of believing in Santa, but at the same time Santa was being played by Robert Hale, Talia Hale’s husband. “Stiles, this time of year Santa is a very busy man. He has to check his naughty and nice list everyday, oversee that his elves are doing their job, not to mention packing and getting ready for his big flight in two weeks. Sometimes Santa has to hire helpers to help him do everything, that includes visiting children around the world.”

“So that’s not the real Santa?”

“No, but he reports back to Santa. Would you like to sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas?”

Stiles pointed to the sign at the beginning of the line to see Santa. “It costs five dollars and I don’t have any money.”

John read the sign, scowling. “That’s just if you want your picture taken with Santa, Stiles. It’s free if you just want to talk to him. Have you ever talked to Santa before.”

Stiles sadly shook his head no. “I have written him letters, but I have never gotten what I asked for. Do you think if I sit on his lap and tell him in person that I’ll finally get a daddy?”

John didn’t know how much more he could take, this kid was killing him. “I honestly don’t know Stiles, but it can’t hurt to try.”

“Will you go up with me?” Stiles asked in a small voice.

John held out his hand. “Come on, son, lets go see Santa.”

Stiles eagerly took the sheriff’s hand, but this time he let the man lead him while he hid behind him, his eyes nervously darting around. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“I’m pretty sure Santa likes all boys and girls.”

“What if I have been bad?”

The sheriff entered line, relieved to find that there were only four families ahead of them. “Have you been bad, Stiles?”

Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think so, but no one likes me, not even the other kids at school. Jackson Whittemore calls me a freak and an idiot, and Cora Hale won’t talk to me, even though her wolf always wags it’s tail at me.”

John’s head snapped up when he heard Santa, Robert Hale, Cora’s father, gasp, his intense eyes landing on Stiles. Robert Hale was human, unlike his wife who was the Hale alpha, but they were standing close enough that the man had heard Stiles. Feeling protective of the boy, John glared at the man while placing a possessive hand on the boy’s shoulder. Robert may not be a wolf, but he has lived with them long enough to know that by doing that John was claiming the boy.

“I’m sorry the kids are mean to you, kids can be cruel sometimes. As for Cora, I know her and she doesn’t talk to too many people, including me, that aren’t family. I know it’s hard, kid, but it won’t always be this way. Someday you will make friends, you just have to be patient. And don’t worry about Santa, I’m the sheriff and if he doesn’t like you then I’ll cuff him and lock him up.”

Stiles stared giggling again. “You can’t arrest Santa, he won’t bring you any presents.”

“Well, I can’t have that, can I? Let’s just hope Santa minds his manners.”

When it was finally their turn, John was surprised when Stiles chickened out and clung to his leg. Since meeting him, Stiles hadn’t been shy one bit, not even when Parrish showed up. “Santa, I would like for you to meet my good friend Stiles,” he said tightly with a hint of warning in his voice. “He’s a bit nervous because he has never met Santa before.”

Santa was looking at the boy as if he wanted to take him apart to see how he ticked. John knew that after this he was going to have to call Alpha Talia to try to explain Stiles to her. He didn’t know what he was going to say as he didn’t know what the hell Stiles was either and why he could see the youngest Hale’s wolf. Talia was a good, caring woman though, he was sure that she wouldn’t hurt Stiles. Stiles wasn’t a danger, just special.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Santa said jovially after he managed to collect himself. “Why don’t you sit up on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas.”

Chewing on his bottom lip, Stiles looked up at the sheriff. “Is it really okay to sit on his lap and tell him what I want for Christmas?”

Chuckling, John affectionately ruffled the boy’s hair. “That’s what Santa is here for, kiddo. Hop on up and tell him what you want.”

Stiles slowly approached Santa looking nervous and unsure. Stopping in front of the man, he gave a little wave. “Hi, Santa, I’m Stiles.”

“Ho! Ho! Ho! I know who you are, little man. I’m Santa, I know all the good little boys and girls.”

“Am I a good boy?” Stiles asked softly as he climbed up onto Santa’s lap.

“Of course you are, Stiles, not only are you a good boy, but my elves told me that you are the smartest kindergartener at Beacon Hills Elementary School.”

Stiles gasped. “They really told you that? I am smart, my teacher had a meeting with my social worker because she said that I was smart enough to go into the second grade, but I didn’t want to go because the second graders are big and mean.”

John figured that Gregory knew about Stiles being exceptionally smart from Cora, his daughter who was also in kindergarten at the same school. Hopefully Cora said nice things about Stiles. If he took the boy in, like he was considering, then Stiles was going to be around the Hale Pack a lot seeing as Talia made him an honorary member four years back when he saved her youngest son Derek from a hunter attack. The boy had been around Stiles’ age when he had been taken walking home from the bus stop. He had noticed the SUV speeding through town and just knew that something wasn’t right. Upon pulling them over, he found a wolfed out five year old tied with ropes soaked in wolfsbane. That was also the day he learned about the existence of the supernatural world.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Stiles,” Santa said, his fake beard hiding his frown. “But don’t let what other kids think change who you are. You are a special and smart little boy and I’m sure someday you will do great things. Tell me, Stiles, what can Santa bring you for Christmas?”

Stiles shyly looked up at the sheriff and gave him a smile. “I want a real home and a daddy for Christmas. I sent you letters the last two years asking for a home and daddy, but I guess you never got them. The sheriff said that maybe if I sat on your lap and asked you in person that maybe you will bring me a daddy. The big tree in the preserve told me that I will get a daddy someday, but that I had to be patient, but I’m really tired of waiting. All the other kids in the home get to spend Christmas with foster families, but nobody wanted me. I’m like the special Christmas trees that no one wants. I had to stand there as family after family picked all the other kids, the strong kids, the pretty kids, the less weird kids, until there were no families left for me.”

John had to turn away to hide his tears, but before he did, he saw that Robert had been tearing up too. How could no one want Stiles? Maybe if he didn’t know about the supernatural world he would find the kid a bit odd, but to be the only kid left in the home without a family for the holidays was just cruel.

Santa took a minute to get himself under control before patting the small boy on the knee and giving him a smile. “I’m so sorry that your letters never reached me, but the postal service can be a bit unreliable. That’s why I spend time in places like this so I can meet boys and girls and they can tell me in person what they want. Now your request, Stiles, is very special and complicated. Santa doesn’t make daddies in his workshop and there’s no extra room on my sleigh for a daddy, but I have a few friends who may be able to help you so I’ll put a good word in for you. Christmas time can be a time for miracles, you just have to believe in the magic of Christmas.”

A lone tear fell from Stiles’ eye. “I understand,” he sniffed sadly.

Santa looked to John, his eyes questioning. He had seen how the man had claimed the boy while waiting in line with him, he hoped that the good sheriff was considering fostering the boy. “I’m sorry I can’t make you a daddy, Stiles, but is there anything else from my workshop that I can bring you?” He didn’t care what it was, he was going to make sure the boy woke up to it on Christmas morning.

Stiles rubbed at his nose and eyes. “I-I really like Batman, Santa. I like all the superheroes, both DC and Marvel, and I also like Star Wars.”

Santa reached in the box next to him and grabbed three candy canes, a thin coloring book, and a small pack of crayons. “I think Santa may have a few superhero and Star Wars toys in his workshop.”

Stiles’ face broke out in a large grin as he took the candy and the coloring book. “Thank you, Santa,” he said as he gave the man a big hug.

With his eyes bloodshot and stinging, John motioned for the photographer to take a picture. This was Stiles’ first time ever sitting on Santa’s lap and he wanted to give the boy a picture to remember it. It was going to hurt to return Stiles’ back to the home, but he was going to do everything in his power to get the boy back. Stiles’ Christmas wish may be to get a daddy, but his was to get Stiles. He wanted Stiles as his little boy.

***TW

“Are you sure about this, John?” Stiles’ social worker, Mrs. Grella asked. “I understand that before Claudia got pregnant that the two of you took classes to become foster parents, but Stiles isn’t a normal kid.”

John snorted, that was a damn understatement. “Look, you and I have lived in Beacon Hills our entire lives, we know that there’s shit in this town that isn’t normal. Stiles is an amazing little boy and I feel like we were supposed to meet today. I haven’t picked out a Christmas tree for the station in over ten years, yet there I was the same day Stiles was there. We had a connection, Susie.”

“What do you want out of this, John? Are you looking for a kid just for the holidays, are you looking to foster him, or are you wanting to adopt him? Stiles has never stayed in a home longer than a few weeks and most of those homes couldn’t handle his uniqueness.”

John couldn’t believe that this was happening, this time yesterday taking in a kid had been the farthest thing from his mind. “I want more than just the holidays with him, but I don’t want to pressure him into something that he doesn’t want. Can’t we just take it one day at a time with the hope that someday Stiles will become a Stilinski?

“He really has captured your heart, hasn’t he? You’re a single man, John, and while I have no issues placing kids in homes with single parents, have you thought about a sitter for while you are at work? You work a lot of hours, John?”

“I work a lot of hours because I don’t have anyone at home. As for a sitter, I can either sign him up at the daycare at the hospital for after school, or find an in home sitter. No offense, Susie, the workers in the home aren’t doing a very good job watching him seeing as multiple times this week he has snuck out to the Christmas tree farm, not to mention he talked about wandering the preserve. I understand that working at the home can be stressful, but he’s one little, five year old boy. I’m not saying I can do better, Stiles is smart and independent, but I sure as hell can’t do worse.”

The social worker pursed her lips. “Yes, I have had words with the home. Their excuse is that they all had made Christmas plans seeing as the home was supposed to be closed for the holiday season, but Stiles’ foster family backing out at the last minute left them short handed and the two woman who were forced to cancel their plans aren’t exactly happy.”

“That’s no excuse for child neglect and endangerment. It’s five miles from the home to the farm. Five miles that Stiles, a five year old boy, walked alone in the cold wearing rags. He was at the farm for over three hours before they noticed him missing.”

“I agree,” the social worker sighed tiredly. “If you really want to take Stiles, at least for the holiday season as a trial, then I’ll get the paperwork going.”

John wanted to hug his old friend, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. “Thank you so much, Susie. When will I be able to pick him up?”

“Tomorrow, possibly the next day.”

“Great, that will give me time to get things settled at the station so I can take a few days off, as well as set up a room for him. It’s been just me haunting that house for years, I want to give it a good cleaning.”

The social worker chuckled. “I don’t think a little dust and stale air will bother Stiles. John, I really hope this works out for the two of you. I think you both will be good for each other.”

***TW

John left the social worker’s office then drove straight to the Hale house. He was surprised that Talia hadn’t called him last night to question him about Stiles, but after he had left the tree farm with Stiles yesterday, he had taken the boy to the diner for dinner before returning him to the home and then he had just been too tired to visit Talia. He would have visited her first thing this morning, but all he could think about was seeing Susie and getting the ball rolling to get Stiles. He didn’t know if becoming his father was going to work out, but he could at least give the boy a home for Christmas.

Pulling into the driveway, John wasn’t surprised to find Talia on the porch waiting for him. She probably heard his cruiser coming from miles away. “Talia,” he greeted as he got out of his car.

Smiling, Talia held her arms open for a hug. “John, it’s good to see you, it’s been too long.”

“I was here last week for dinner,” John reminded with a chuckle as he hugged the alpha.

“Like I said, John, too long. You know us wolves, we want our pack mates around all the time. Now come inside and tell me about the boy you were with yesterday. Robert said he overheard him mentioning Cora’s wolf, but Cora swears that she never told him about being a werewolf.”

John was relieved to see that Talia wasn’t upset about Stiles, just curious. He loved Talia, she was an amazing and extremely kind woman who does a lot for the community and donates thousands to charities in Beacon Hills, but she is ferocious when it comes to protecting her pack. “I met Stiles yesterday while picking out a Christmas tree for the station. The boy is special, Talia, even Jordan senses that, but he doesn’t know what he is. Stiles says that he can talk to trees, he even mentioned the Nemeton. He didn’t mention the Nemeton by name, but he did say the big tree in the preserve. He also said that Cora won’t talk to him, but that her wolf wags it’s tail every time it sees him.”

Peter had entered the room halfway through John explanation. “I never heard of anyone being able to physically see our wolves while in human form. This is concerning, Tally.”

Talia didn’t miss how John tensed at her brother’s words. She was concerned too, but she could sense that John was very fond of Stiles and wouldn’t stand for any threats towards the boy. “This is the orphan boy that was found five years ago out in the preserve?” She remembered that day. She remembered being upset that she hadn’t known that there was a newborn baby in her preserve in need of help. She should have been able to smell the boy, or at least should have heard him.

“He’s a good kid, Talia, who just wants a home and daddy. I just left Susie Grella’s office, Stiles’ social worker, I filed to foster the boy with hopes of in the future adopting him.”

Talia smiled brightly as she hugged her friend again. “Oh, John, this is wonderful news. I’m so glad that you’re opening your heart again to someone. You will make a great father to Stiles.”

“Am I the only one worried that this boy can see our wolves?” Peter growled.

Talia scoffed at her brother. “Of course I’m concerned, Peter, but there’s nothing I can do about it until I meet the boy. In the meantime, I will get in contact with Deaton and see if he has heard of anyone like Stiles.”

Peter grumbled, he didn’t like not knowing something and he didn’t like doing nothing when there was a possible threat to his pack. As the pack’s enforcer, it was his job to take care of problems before they become a problem.

“Relax, Peter,” Talia chuckled. “I’m sure John will bring Stiles by to meet the pack.”

John fidgeted. “I honestly would prefer if you met him first alone, Talia, I don’t want to overwhelm him.” John rolled his eyes when Peter opened his mouth to protest. “Peter, if you’re that frightened of a five year old boy, then you can come too. Just a warning, I may consider you family, Peter, but if you frighten or hurt that boy, I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”

Talia started laughing. “Oh, John, I cant wait to meet the little boy that has brought out the poppa bear in you.”

***TW

John stood back, a sense of pride filling his chest. He had just put the finishing touches on Stiles’ room and he couldn’t wait to show the boy. He finished just in time too, Susie called fifteen minutes ago to let him know that he could pick Stiles up from the home in an hour. The room looked good, but he had tried to keep it low key and not go too crazy on the boy’s room, not only did he not want to overwhelm Stiles, but he also wanted him to be able to add his own personal touches to it. He took the bigger of the two spare bedrooms, painted three walls a light brown, then painted the last wall a forest green. He had been afraid that the darker green color would make the room too dark, but in his opinion it turned out great. He figured with how much Stiles loves nature and trees, that he will find the room warm and inviting.

He hadn’t been sure how to decorate the room since he didn’t know Stiles that well, but he bought a twin size bed and Batman sheets with matching pillowcase and comforter. He also bought Batman curtains, something that up until now he hadn’t even known existed. Other than a desk and dresser, that was all he had in the room. Christmas was a little over a week away, he was going to use that time to get to know Stiles better so he knew exactly what toys the boy would want. He was also planning to take him shopping tonight or tomorrow to buy some new clothes, including a winter coat, hat, scarf, gloves and boots.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, Claudia,” John said, his voice choking up. “You always said that I’d make a great daddy, I hope I can prove you right. I really want this boy. I know it’s strange, but I feel like he’s already mine. I wish you were here with me, my love, I know that you’d just adore him.”

Hearing a knocking at his door, John wiped the tears from his eyes then quickly made his way downstairs. Other than the pack, visitors were rare for him. Opening his door, he started
chuckling when saw Jordan standing on his porch surrounded by three pathetic looking Christmas trees. “Deputy, I thought only two trees were supposed to end up at my home?”

Jordan looked sheepishly at the trees, two of which weren’t even as tall as him. “I know that that was your original plan, Sir, but when I heard that you were taking Stiles in, I figured you could surprise him with his very own Christmas tree in his bedroom.”

Chuckling, John placed a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Jordan. “And you’re right, Stiles will love having a tree in his room.” Stepping back, he opened his door wider. “I’m going to need a lot more lights, decorations, and ornaments.”

Jordan easily lifted up two of the trees and carried them into the house. “Honestly, Sir, I think these trees will tip over if you hang more than five ornaments on them.”

“I think you’re right, son.” John agreed happily. “But every Christmas tree deserves a chance to shine.”

Jordan fondly shook his head. “That boy already has you wrapped around his finger.”

“That he does,” John admitted unashamedly. “I’m going to need some bases for these.”

“Already ahead of you on that, sir. Since we needed an extra one for the station, I went ahead and bought three more for these trees.”

“Again, you’re a good man, Jordan. If you have the time, can you help me get these set up, I have to be at the home in thirty minutes to pick up Stiles.”

“Of course, Sir. Tell Stiles that I said hi and that I’m waiting for him to help decorate the trees down at the station.”

Groaning, John pinched the bridge of his nose. “How much teasing can I expect from all the deputies for those damn trees?”

Jordan’s grin turned shit eating. “Oh, sir, if you were smart, you wouldn’t show your face at the station until after the new year.”

“Great,” John groaned. “Just great.”

***TW

Taking a deep breath, John nervously knocked on the door. He was a damn cop and have been in many different situations, some life threatening, yet here he was shaking like a leaf knocking on a five year old’s bedroom door. He was surprised upon arrival when Susie informed him that she hadn’t told Stiles the news of him coming to live with him. At first he had been upset because he thought that Stiles should have a say in his life, but apparently the boy had been talking about him nonstop ever since he dropped him off. It warmed his heart to know that he had made a difference in the five year old’s life and that Stiles seemed to care about him as much as he cared for him.

“Come in,” a small voice said from the other side of the door.

John nervously looked down at his shirt, straightening out the wrinkles. Today he was only wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt, he hadn’t wanted to intimidate Stiles by being in uniform. Not that Stiles had been intimidated by him before. Still, he wanted to make a good impression by looking like a dad, not a sheriff.

“Sheriff!” Stiles cried as he jumped off his bed.

John entered the boy’s room, his eyes taking in how bare it was. Susie had explained to him that Stiles didn’t have as much as the other kids because he hadn’t spent as much time in foster homes, and that’s where the kids get most of their possessions, especially seeing as funding from the state has been lacking the past few years. She said that people just weren’t donating anymore. People have become so wrapped up in their own lives and social media, that they just stopped donating. He was going to talk to Talia about it to see if there is anything she could do to help.

“Hey, kiddo, staying out of trouble?”

Stiles’ face turned red and he started fidgeting. “Last night I broke two jars of spaghetti sauce and spilled the pitcher of water all over the floor. When I went to get a towel to clean it up, Mrs Kreegan stepped in the water and slipped and fell. She was crying that she hurt her back and needed to go to the hospital, but while she was waiting for her husband to pick her up, I overheard her on the phone telling her sister that she wasn’t hurt, she just didn’t want to work until after Christmas. Because of her lying, Mr. Bumble sent me to my room without dessert, and we were having cheesecake, my favorite.”

John didn’t know whether to laugh, or give Mr. Bumble a piece of his mind. Yes Stiles spilled the pitcher, but accidents happen and he was going to clean up the mess. He shouldn’t have been punished because some lazy, lying bitch didn’t want to work over Christmas. “Wow! It sounds like you had a busy day yesterday.”

“Things like that tend to happen with me,” Stiles grinned, sounding way older than five years old.

“Well, at least you keep things from being boring. Can I talk to you for a minute, Stiles?”

“Sure, sheriff, I like talking to you.”

Taking a deep breath, John took a seat on the kid’s bed. “Stiles, I really enjoyed our time together the other day.”

“Me too,” Stiles said softly as he climbed up onto the bed and sat next to the sheriff. ”you didn’t even get mad at me when I spilled my milkshake all over the table and chair.”

“Don’t forget the floor too,” John said with a wink. “Accidents happen, kiddo, I’m not going to get mad over something like that. Had you done it on purpose I may have gotten a little mad.”

“I wouldn’t do something like that on purpose, Mr. Bumble calls me a klutz and a walking disaster.”

“Well, Mr. Bumble sounds like a grumpy man who needs to be set straight.”

Stiles started giggling. “The older kids call him Bumble the Bastard, but I don’t because I know that’s a bad word. Sorry for saying bastard,” he quickly added sheepishly.

“I don’t normally like curse words or name calling, Stiles, but I think I have to agree with the older kids on this one.”

“I don’t like name calling either, Jackson is always calling me bad names.”

“I know it’s hard, Stiles, but just ignore Jackson. Kids like Jackson like bullying because it makes them feel powerful, but if you ignore him, you’re not giving him that power.”

“I sometimes call him a poop head, but only in my head.”

“That’s okay, Stiles, I called Mr. Bumble a poop head in my head too.”

Stiles placed his hands over his mouth to mask his giggles, but his eyes were alight with mischief and happiness. “You’re so funny, Sheriff.”

“I think you’re the first person to ever tell me that, kiddo.”

“I-I’m glad you visited me, Sheriff, I like spending time with you.”

John could feel himself falling more in love with the boy every minute he spent with him. He use to question whether parents really fell in love with their children at first sight, but now he was a believer. He barely knew Stiles, yet he already loved him. “I like spending time with you too, son, which is why I would like to take you home with me. You don’t have to say yes, you can...”

“Yes!” Stiles cried, jumping onto the sheriff’s lap. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Can I stay with you forever?”

John desperately wanted to say yes, but he didn’t want to jump the gun. Stiles may want to stay with him now, but who knew how the boy would feel a few weeks from now. “We are going to take it one day at a time until you get to know me better, but I would love to keep you for forever.”

“Does that mean I get to spend Christmas with you?”

“You betcha!”

“And will Santa come?”

John wrapped his arms around the excited boy to keep him from tumbling off his lap. “I personally visited Santa and told him you will be at my house on Christmas, but if you want, we can visit him again and you can tell him yourself.”

“I can talk to Santa again? Wow! This is the best day ever.”

“The best day for me too,” John repeated. “Why don’t you pack up your stuff so we can get going. There are three special trees at my house anxious to see you.”

Eyes widening, Stiles launched off of the sheriff’s lap and started tearing through dresser drawers and his closet. John was saddened to see that Stiles didn’t have much, just a handful of t-shirts, a couple pairs of jeans, some underwear and socks, a few stuffed animals, and some books. He couldn’t wait to take the boy clothes and toy shopping.

Stiles scooped up everything in his little arms, half of his belongings falling to the floor. “Alright, Sheriff, I’m ready to go.”

“I think you could use this, Stiles,” Stiles’ social worker said, handing the boy a duffel bag.

“Thank you, Mrs. G!” Stiles cried as he snatched the bag and started stuffing it messily with his things. “Did you hear that the sheriff is going to take me home, and that maybe we will get to live with each other forever and ever and ever?”

“Forever, huh?” The social worker chuckled. “We will see how you feel about that when you’re sixteen, or after you get married.”

Looking up, Stiles stuck out his tongue and made a gagging noice. “Yuk! Girls are yucky, I’m never getting married.”

“Yucky!” The social worker cried indignantly. “I’ll have you know, I’m a girl.”

“You’re not a girl,” Stiles proclaimed, rolling his eyes. “You’re Mrs, G.”

“Makes sense,” John snorted. “Are you about ready, kiddo?”

Stiles didn’t even check to make sure he had everything before running out into the hallway. “I’m ready! Let’s go!”

***TW

“Wow! You live in a mansion!” Stiles cried as they pulled up in front of the sheriff’s house.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this a mansion,” John grinned as he looked at his two story, three bedroom house, “but it’s big enough for the two of us.”

Unbuckling his seat belt, Stiles climbed over the seat so he could sit in the front. “Are we going to put Christmas lights up like some of the other houses we passed? How about those big blow up things that are in people’s front yard?”

“Well, I don’t have any blow up things, but I do have some lights in the attic. While we’re up there we can bring down all the other decorations. I don’t know if we have enough ornaments and lights for three trees, but we can run out to the store and buy what we need.”

“The trees are going to be so pretty and happy. What about the trees down at the police station?”

John wanted to groan, he was dreading showing his face at the station. He knew how relentless the guys could be with their teasing and he had a feeling they were going to be teasing him for a very long time. “We will go to the station tomorrow to decorate those trees.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to get to decorate five trees. This day just keeps getting better. Can we please go inside now?”

Reaching behind him, John grabbed Stiles’ bag. “Want a piggyback ride?”

“No one has ever given me a piggyback ride before,” Stiles said in wonder.

John turned around then patted his back. “Come on, buckaroo, hop on.

Stiles tentatively climbed onto the sheriff’s back, clinging to him like a sloth. “Don’t drop me, Sheriff.”

“I got you, kiddo. Always!” Bracing one hand under Stiles’ backside, John slowly walked into the house, Stiles’ laughter melting his heart.

Once in the house, Stiles’ slid down off of the sheriff’s back then ran to the tree that was standing to the left of the television set. “Hello, my friend,” he said softly as he reached out and touched the tree.

John watched curiously as Stiles talked to the tree. He didn’t know if it was his imagination, or maybe just the rush job him and Jordan did to get the trees settled into their bases, but he’d swear that the damn tree was leaning towards the boy. “Is the tree happy here?”

“Very!l Stiles said, still touching the tree. “It can’t wait to get all prettied up.”

“That’s good to hear. How about I show you your room, then we will run to the diner for a bite to eat and then to Walmart for some decorations and goodies for you.”

Stiles cutely tilted his head to the side. “Goodies?”

Taking a seat on the couch, John held his hand out to the boy. He was surprised when Stiles didn’t hesitate to take it and snuggle into his side. “We don’t have to do it tonight, but I would like to buy you some new clothes and some decorations for your room.”

“Like a Batman poster?” Stiles asked softly, his eyes wide.

“Exactly! If we can find a Batman poster that is. Stiles, I want you to be happy here and I want you to think of my home as your home.”

Stiles nodded his head. “Okay, but I don’t need a Batman poster to make this house my home, I just need you.”

“Jesus, kid, you’re going to kill me with your cuteness.” Scooping up the boy, John carried him up the stairs. “Welcome to your new room, kiddo.”

John didn’t know how he expected Stiles to react when seeing his room, but it wasn’t crying with his face buried in his neck. Quickly taking a seat on the child’s bed, he started patting and rubbing his back. “Hey now, little man, why the tears?”

“I-I have never had a room like this before,” Stiles sobbed. “I always have to share a room with kids who don’t like me. This room is just for me and it even has a Batman blanket. I have never been this happy. Please don’t send me back.”

John wanted to reassure Stiles that he could stay forever, but he didn’t know what the future held and he didn’t want to give the boy false hope. He knew that he never wanted the boy to leave, he just didn’t know how Stiles would feel in a few months after everything has settled. “You can stay for as long as you like, Stiles.”

Sniffling, Stiles picked his head up from the sheriff’s neck so he could look around. Gasping, he pointed to the tree that the sheriff had placed in front of his window. “I have my very own Christmas tree in my very own room.”

“I figured with how much you like trees that you’d want one in your room to keep you company.”

“It will be like sleeping outside in the preserve.” Stiles cried excitedly. “It even smells like the preserve in here. Can we go to the store now so I can decorate my tree?”

“Sure, but dinner first, then shopping.”

“Best day ever!” Stiles sang as he skipped out of the bedroom.

***TW

John was new at this father thing so he wasn’t sure what to do or say, but he was pretty positive that eating three helpings of curly fries wasn’t good for you. He knew he should say something, but watching Stiles stuff his face moaning about how curly fries were sent from heaven, was just too damn cute. “You’re going to make yourself sick, kiddo.”

Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “Totally worth it. Curly fries are my new favorite food.”

John continued to watch Stiles until he felt the hairs prickling on the back of his neck. Turning around in his seat, his eyes narrowed when he spotted Peter Hale taking a seat three booths behind him. He knew that this wasn’t a coincidence, Peter must have been following him. Knowing the basted, he’s probably been following since he left the group home with Stiles.

“Is that Cora’s daddy?” Stiles asked innocently,

John turned back to Stiles. “No, that’s not her daddy. Why do you ask?” He had a feeling he knew why Stiles assumed that Peter was Cora’s daddy, but he wanted to hear it from Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles looked over at Peter, but he wasn’t truly looking at Peter, he was looking more behind him. Cocking his head to the side, he gave a little wave. “He has a wolf too like Cora, but his wolf is huge and grey where Cora’s is little, more like a puppy, and a reddish brown color. Can I have a wolf too?”

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Peter tense, his eyes quickly flashing blue. “That is Peter Hale, Cora’s Uncle. Maybe tomorrow Cora’s mom can visit us and she can tell you why some of them have wolves. Sadly not everyone has a wolf, Cora’s family is special, but you can’t tell anyone about their wolves.”

Stiles pouted for a second, then perked up. “I’m real good at keeping secrets. I promise I won’t tell.”

John turned back so he could mouth to Peter to leave, but the bastard was already gone. He hoped that this wasn’t going to cause a problem for him and the pack. He loved the pack, they were family, but Stiles now came first in his life. “Are you ready to go shopping?”

***TW

“I love Christmas! I love Christmas! Christmas is the best time of year!”

John smiled softly down at the pancakes he was cooking. Stiles had been singing the same thing over and over again since he woke an hour ago. He should find it nerve-racking, but he didn’t. He found it cute and endearing.

“I love Christmas! I love Christmas! Christmas is the best of year!”

Still grinning and feeling happier than what he has felt in an extremely long tong time, John placed a plate with two pancakes and two slices of bacon on it in front of the singing boy. “Eat your breakfast so we can head to the station to decorate the trees there.”

Stiles excitedly clapped his hands. “I love pancakes! I love bacon! I love decorating trees!” He sang as loudly as he could.

John went to sit down with his own plate when the doorbell rang. Groaning, because he knew it could only be Talia and Peter and possibly Deaton, he slumped back in his chair. It was too damn early in the morning to be dealing with Deaton’s cryptic ass. “Come in,” He reluctantly said loudly, not wanting to leave his breakfast. This was his first breakfast with Stiles and he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin it.

“What is that?” John heard Peter say from the living room. He didn’t have to be out there to know that Peter was talking about the Christmas tree.

“Behave yourself, Peter,” Talia sighed. “I think it’s adorable.”

“If John needed money to buy a proper Christmas tree he should have asked, we would have given it to him,” Peter grumbled.

John placed his head in his hands praying for the strength to get through this meeting. Yes their Christmas tree was rather pathetic and thanks to the weight of the lights, garland, and ornaments the poor thing now leaned heavily to the left with its branches dropping down, but he now found the little pathetic tree charming. He may or may not have used up all the storage on his phone taking pictures of Stiles decorating all three trees.

“Sheriff, whose here?” Stiles whispered looking worried.

“It’s just Cora”s mom and Uncle.”

“Deaton’s here too,” Talia said entering the kitchen with a smile.

Gasping, Stiles dropped his fork, missing his plate and the table but hitting the floor, syrup splattering everywhere. “Holy smokes, your wolf is massive!”

“You can truly see her wolf?” Deaton asked from behind Talia. “Can you describe it to me?”

“Can’t you see it? It’s taller than you.” Stiles asked, still staring at Talia.

“Child, you are the only one who can see the wolves. Can you describe it please?”

“Big! Huge big with pitch black fur and glowing red eyes. I have never seen a dog with red eyes before.”

“Incredible,” Deaton said breathlessly.

“Wolves,” Peter corrected, “not dogs.”

Stiles cutely rolled his eyes. “Well duh!”

John choked on his bacon laughing. “I think you have met your match, Peter.”

Deaton took a seat across from Stiles, his eye alight as if it was Christmas morning already. “I heard that you can talk to trees.”

“Tress, flowers, sometimes animals, but trees are my favorites,” Stiles said as if it was no big deal.”

“And what do the trees tell you?” Deaton asked eagerly.

“All kinds of stuff. Trees hear and see pretty much everything and they’re not very good at keeping secrets. Well, except Nemy, Nemy is really good a keeping secrets. When I was three it said it knew who my real daddy is, but Nemy said he couldn’t tell me because the time wasn’t right. Whatever that means. He said my real daddy doesn’t know about me and that I was really special and that I had to be patient. He said that once my real daddy finds out about me that my life will get better and that I will have a lot of people to love and protect me.”

John’s blood ran cold at hearing that. He couldn’t lose Stiles now, he just couldn’t. Of course he would want Stiles to find his biological father, but the thought of losing him physically hurt.

Deaton’s eyes lit up even more. “Nemy? Do you mean the Nemeton?’

“You know Nemy?” Stiles asked excitedly. “Can you talk to him too?”

“I’m afraid you’re the only one special enough to be able to talk to trees and the Nemeton.”

Stiles wildly nodded his head. “Nemy is mega old. He told me he was here even before the dinosaurs. That’s like super duper mega old.”

“That is old,” Talia said gently. “Do you talk to Nemy often?”

“I talked to him last night,” Stiles chirped happily.

“What?” John cried, trying not to panic. Had Stiles snuck out in the middle of the night all alone? He could have been hurt or kidnapped.

“You were in the preserve last night?” Peter asked with a frown. He had been on patrol most of the night, he had even ran past the Nemeton three times. If Stiles had been out there he would have seen or heard him.

“No, silly wolf,” Stiles giggled. “Nemy can talk to me through other trees. He talked to me last night through the tree in my bedroom.”

“Well that’s not freaky or disturbing,” Peter mumbled under his breath, his sister nodding in agreement.

“What did Nemy talk to you about last night” John asked feeling a bit on edge. He agreed with Peter, this whole thing was a bit freaky.

Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “He told me not to be scared of the wolves that live in the preserve. He told me that the wolves are his protectors and that they will also protect me. Are you the wolves that live in the preserve?”

“We are,” Talia admitted, “but you can’t tell anyone about us.”

“I won’t. Nemy told me that there are hunters that will kill you if they find out about you, and even if Cora doesn’t like me, I don’t want her to die.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sure Cora likes you, she’s just very shy,” Talia explained. “When wolves are her age, they only feel safe around their pack. She’s probably a little scared of you.”

“Me?” Stiles gasped. “Cora is scared of me? No one scared of me, not even the mouse in the sheriff’s bathroom.”

“There’s a mouse in my bathroom?” John asked, his eyes flicking up towards the ceiling as if he was trying to see or hear the mouse.

“Oh yeah, Fred has been living in your bathroom for two years.”

Peter started laughing. “Fred the mouse, this is just too much. You know, I think I’m going to like this kid.”

“Do you want to be my first friend?” Stiles asked hopefully.

“Hey, I thought I was your first friend,” John pretended to pout.

Stiles slid off the chair then ran to the sheriff, hugging him around the middle. “Silly, you’re going to be my daddy.”

John started tearing up. “Alright, kiddo,” he sniffed, “Why don’t you run upstairs, use the bathroom, brush your teeth, then grab your shoes. We have to get to the station so we can help Deputy Parrish decorate the trees there?”

“Trees?” Peter questioned with a smirk. “Please tell me that you didn’t pick them out. I saw the tree in your living room.”

“Isn’t she pretty?” Stiles asked as he headed out of the kitchen. “I helped the sheriff pick out all the trees.”

“Uhm, sure,” Peter reluctantly agreed, not wanting to hurt the pup’s feelings. “That tree is definitely one of a kind.”

“No, it’s not,” John said under his breath. “You haven’t seen the other four trees.”

The three other adults in the room started laughing. “Oh, John, he’s absolutely wonderful.” Talia gushed.

“He wasn’t lying,” Peter said speaking freely now that the pup was gone. “Everything he said was the truth. Well, the truth as far as he believes.”

“Deaton, do you have any idea what he is?” Talia asked curiously. “He smells human, but there’s something...something....”

“Metallically or maybe electrical to his scent,” Peter said, finishing for his sister.

Deaton jerkily nodded his head thoughtfully. “When you first told me about him I thought possibly fae, a fae with a strong affinity for the earth, but what he is is much, much more amazing and rare.”

“And!” Peter bit out when the emissary stopped talking. The damn cryptic bastard enjoyed his theatrics.

“Stiles is a spark.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Have you been dipping into your special herbs again, sparks are just a myth.”

“Rare, yes, but not a myth. Only one spark is born every ninety to a hundred years. Basically when one spark dies another is born. Or reborn if the tales are to be believed. It is believed that only one spark can live on the earth at a time and that its really just the same spark that is just being reborn over and over and over again. After a spark dies, it’s spark searches for another vessel to inhabit and to be reborn in.”

“That sounds ominous,” John said with a frown. “Is...is a spark like a dangerous parasite?”

“No, John,” Deaton quickly reassured. “Don’t think of Stiles that way. He is one hundred percent an innocent little boy. Extremely powerful, but innocent. The spark doesn’t just randomly pick some child to hop into and take control of, there are requirements that must be met. A spark can only be reborn in a child that has passed away before being born. The spark is not responsible for the baby’s death, the baby had to have died of natural causes in order for it absorb it’s essence. The spark merges with the soul after it has left the body, creating a new life.”

“Does the spark reenter the dead baby’s body?” Talia asked, amazed with the story. Like her brother, she thought sparks were just a kids story.

“No, that body is dead. A spark is basically pure magic with unlimited power, but since it takes several hours to completely merge with the child’s soul, the baby’s body has been dead too long for it to use. Instead the spark creates a body for itself, but it will be the same body as the deceased baby. Basically the baby is the same baby that died, just with a little extra spark in it.”

“So a spark isn’t physically born?” Peter asked. “They just pop up out of thin air?”

“In the middle of the preserve it seems. Each story concerning sparks has them living near a Nemeton.”

“So you’re saying that Stiles is the clone of a baby that died before it even got a chance to live?” John asked in disbelief.

“Stiles isn’t a clone. Stiles is the little boy who died while in utero, he was just recreated and brought back to life thanks to the spark.”

Peter sat back in his chair, his mind whirling. “Does he retain memories from his other lives?”

“No, once the body dies on a spark that is it. The spark is just magic, it has no conscience of its own.”

John stood up and started pacing. “Okay, let me see if I got the right. Five years ago someone out there died, a spark. The spark, or magic, left that person’s dead body and went searching for a new body to be reborn in. A baby dies of natural causes while still inside it’s mother and as it’s soul leaves it’s body, the spark merges with it. The new life can’t reenter it’s old dead body so it creates a new body and poof, we have a new baby boy that is the same boy that died before it was born, just now he has magic.”

“That is correct.”

John collapsed back in his chair as if the strings keeping him up had been cut. “We have to find his biological parents.”

“And what, tell them that Stiles is their son that died before he had a chance to take a breath?” Peter scoffed. “They’ll never believe you.”

“If we found his parents, could a paternity test be used as proof?”

“All my knowledge about sparks comes from stories and old books, but from what I gather it will.”

John bowed his head sadly trying to accept that he probably couldn’t keep Stiles. He had a family out there that mourned him five years ago, they deserved to know that their little boy is a alive. “So how do we find his family?”

Deaton fidgeted nervously, tapping his fingers on the table. “I believe that I may already know who is family is.”

“Deaton?” Talia questioned, not use to seeing her emissary act in such a way. Deaton was always cool, calm, and collected.

“What day was Stiles found in the preserve?” Deaton asked anxiously.

“April eighth,” Peter answered having already researched what he could about the boy.

“Does that date five years ago ring a bell?” Deaton asked grimly.

Talia and Peter both said no, but all the color drained from John’s face. Talia rushed to her friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. “John, what’s wrong? You hearts is beating dangerously fast.”

“Claudia miscarried our son on April eighth, five years ago.”

“And the plot thickens,”

“Peter!” Tali’s snapped in exasperation. “Not the time.”

“You think that Stiles could be my dead son, reborn?”

Deaton was thoughtful for a minute before inclining his head. “I’d have to run a paternity test to be certain, but I’m almost positive.”

“John, he does smell like you, I just thought it was because you have been in each other’s company since yesterday.” Talia explained.

John felt as though he was seconds away from passing out. Could this truly be happening? Could Stiles be the little boy he lost five years ago and who’s death he still mourned to this day? “What...I...what do I do?” He asked, his eyes pleading with his friends for guidance. He couldn’t even string together a complete sentence on his own right now, how was he supposed to process what Deaton just told him?

With tears in her eyes, Talia pulled her friend and human beta into her arms. “Breath, John, this is a miracle. Right now what you are going to do is take that boy to decorate the station while Deaton gets what he needs to run a paternity test. Whether that boy is your blood or not, he is your son now. You love him, and he loves you. I don’t have to be a supernatural being to sense how much that boy already loves you. Everything is going to be okay.”

Clinging to Talia, John nodded his head. “This...I don’t...”

“I know, John, this is incredibly overwhelming, but you’re going to have to pull yourself together. Stiles is going to be down here any minute and we don’t want him to think he did something to upset you. I’m going to need you to act normal and to let us handle everything.”

Taking a deep breath, John stepped away from Talia, scrubbing at his eyes. “I’m good. I’m good. I’m just...really not good at all.”

Peter started laughing. “Can’t blame you there, this shit is crazy, but you’re out of time, Stiles it is...”

“Are you ready, sheriff?” Stiles asked as he came skipping into the kitchen with a big smile on his face. “I can’t wait to see Deputy Parrish, he’s so nice.”

“Yeah,” John said, his eyes drinking in Stiles as if he was just seeing him for the first time. How had he missed it? How had he missed Claudia’s eyes on the boy? “Yeah, why don’t we stop off at the coffee shop and get Deputy Parrish a coffee and some freshly baked cookies as a way of saying thank you for delivering the trees?”

“Do you think I can get a cookie too? I love cookies!”

“I think that can be arranged, kiddo, as long as I can get one too.”

***TW

John couldn’t take his eyes off of Stiles, he was never going to let the boy out of his sight for the rest of his life. He didn’t want to get his hopes up because Deaton’s story was completely insane and unbelievable, but he couldn’t stop thinking that Stiles could be his little boy...the little boy that Claudia and him created out of their love.

“Jingle Bells, Batman smells!” Stiles sang as he danced around the tree at the police station.

“Robin laid an egg,” Parrish sang along as he handed the five year old another ornament.

John shook his head, his heart feeling so light that is could drift away with just a slight breeze. “Parrish, I should have your badge for teaching him that.”

“It’s a right of passage, sheriff” Jordan snickered.

“Sheriff, what’s a Charlie Brown tree?” Stiles asked as he tilted his head curiously at the tree.

John’s eyes narrowed as he looked at his deputies, who quickly turned away and pretended to be busy. “Where did you hear that?” It really wasn’t anything bad, but Stiles was proud of his trees and he didn’t want anyone to hurt his feelings.

Stiles subtly pointed at the tree. He knew better than to tell a room full of people that the tree told him. “Is it bad?”

John wouldn’t be lying if he said the whole talking to trees thing didn’t freak him out a bit. Was he now going to have to watch everything he said or did around trees? They were surrounded by over a thousand acre preserve, there was no getting away from trees. “No, kiddo, it’s just what some people call a tree that isn’t the biggest or prettiest.”

“This tree isn’t big, but it’s very pretty,” Stiles said proudly as he softly caressed the pine needles. “Don’t tell the others, but this is my favorite tree.”

“It is a very pretty tree, son, and I promise I won’t say anything to the other trees,” John said, not really lying. The sad little trees he was talked into, more like guilted, into buying were really starting to grow on him.

Jordan approached John, a smirk on his face. “I warned everyone not to say anything about the tree in front of Stiles, guess I should have warned them not to say anything about the tree in front of the tree.”

“I’m never talking in front of a tree for the rest of my life,”John grumbled.

***TW

Bored, Stiles decided to wander down the hall while the sheriff talked to the real nice nurse with dark hair. He didn’t understand why they were at the hospital, the sheriff just said they needed to meet Mr. Deaton here so he could run a test on them, a test that the sheriff promised wouldn’t hurt. The sheriff hadn’t lied, the test hadn’t hurt, but now the sheriff was talking on and on with the nurse while smiling kind of funny like at her. He wanted to be good and sit tight like the sheriff asked, but he was never good as sitting and doing nothing. He was only planning to walk to the end of the hall to look at the vending machine, but then he spotted a boy his age laying on a bed with some kind of mask over his face. Curious, he entered the room.

Walking up to the bed, Stiles stopped and just stared at the kid. He was taller than him with wavy brown hair and his skin was a tad darker than his, but he didn’t think he was older than him. “Hi, I’m Stiles, I’m five years old and in kindergarten. What’s your name?”

The boy on the bed removed the mask that was covering his nose and lips with a shaky hand. “I’m Scott and I’m five years old too,” he said, sounding like he was struggling to breath. “I don’t go to school yet because I have been too sick.”

Stiles climbed up onto the edge of the bed. “School’s not that fun anyway, at least not for me. I don’t have any friends.”

“I don’t have any friends either,” Scott admitted sadly. “No one wants to be friends with someone who can’t breath.”

“Well that’s just stupid,” Stiles spat. “Why can’t you breath?”

“I have really bad asthma and the past few months it’s gotten worse. Hopefully soon I can start school,”

“Do...do you want to be my friend?” Stiles asked hopefully.

Scott looked nervously around, chewing on his bottom lip. “I can’t run around a lot like other kids because of my asthma, and I have to carry an inhaler with me all the time.”

“I’m hyper and I talk too much and everyone says I’m too smart for my own good. I’m also an orphan, but I’m living with the sheriff now and I think he might keep me.” Stiles confessed unashamedly. “I think we can be best friends.”

“Really?” Scott asked, perking up. “I always wanted a best friend.”

“Oh thank god! John I found him.”

“Mom?” Scott said, struggling to sit up.

“Scott, put your oxygen mask back on,” Nurse Melissa McCall ordered sternly as she entered the room, a frantic looking sheriff rushing in behind her.

Without even thinking, John rushed to Stiles, picking him up and hugging him tightly to his chest. “I thought someone stole you,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “I have been tearing the hospital apart looking for you.”

Melissa started chuckling, “John, it hasn’t even been ten minutes.”

Stiles started to tear up. “I’m sorry, Sheriff, I was only going to look for the vending machine while you were making funny eyes at Nurse McCall when I found Scott here. Scott has trouble breathing, but it’s okay because we’re best friends now. I always wanted a best friend.”

John took a few seconds to compose himself before placing Stiles back on the bed with trembling hands. “For now on, kiddo, tell me when you’re going to wander off. And for your information, I was not making funny eyes at Nurse McCall.”

“He always looks at momma like that, Stiles,” Scott giggled. “Deputy Parrish says the sheriff has a crush on momma.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Nurse McCall said blushing beautifully.

“Does that mean the sheriff wants to kiss your mommy?” Stiles asked, wide eyed.

Groaning, John buried his face in his hands. “Mel, if these two become best friends we’re screwed.”

Melissa was thrilled, her Scotty has been lonely and wanting a friend for so long and she could tell that Stiles wasn’t the type of kid that cared about what the rest of the kids said. Stiles was going to be good for her son. “I better start stocking up on hair-dye now, I have a feeling I’m going to be getting a lot of grey hairs.”

John nodded his head in agreement, but he was happy that Stiles found a friend, and Scotty was a good kid. He was going to be having a long talk with Jordan about discussing his crush on Melissa with little ears though. It was true, he did like Mel, she was smart, kind, beautiful, and tough as nails. She was also in the supernatural know which made things a lot easier for him. Normally a paternity test would take weeks to get the results back, but because of Mel’s connections, he should have the results in just a couple days. Maybe with their boys being best friends and all, he’ll finally pluck up the courage to ask her out...instead of making funny eyes at her.

***TW

Paling, Stiles’ social worker stumbled to her chair, her trembling legs giving out on her. “Oh, John, I can’t believe this. How? I don’t understand.”

Straightening his tie, Peter took a seat across from the distressed woman. Opening his briefcase, he handed her a file marked, Mieczyslaw Stilinski. Peter wasn’t at this meeting as a friend and pack mate of John’s, he was here as his official lawyer. “Halfway through her eighth month of pregnancy, Claudia woke in the middle of the night bleeding heavily. Upon arriving at the hospital she was diagnosed with placenta abruption and rushed to the operating room. An emergency c-section was performed and the baby was immediately rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. John remained with his wife while the doctors worked on her, she was hemorrhaging dangerously. Shortly after Claudia was stabilized, John received word that their son Mieczyslaw hadn’t made it. According to the doctors the baby never took a breath, he was born sleeping.”

Clearing his throat, John took over. “At the time everything had been chaotic and I was worried for both my wife and son so I doubted myself when I thought I heard my son crying as the nurses wheeled him away. I tried mentioning the fact that I heard my son to the doctors, but they said that it was probably just the machines or noises from outside the operating room. After my wife woke the nurses brought in our son for us to hold and say goodbye to, but there was always this niggling doubt in the back of my mind.”

The social worker was leafing through the file as she listened to the incredible tale. She couldn’t believe this was happening, but the proof was right in front of her, a positive paternity test proving that John Stilinski was Stiles’ biological father. As happy as she was for the two of them, she still had to do her job and make sure everything was authentic. She also had to make sure that John would be good to Stiles, but she already knew that. She has known John Stilinski since elementary school, he was one of the rare, true, and honest good guys.

Peter once again took over. “We are still trying to track down the nurse that switched Mieczyslaw with a dead baby, but from we have been able to piece together, she panicked, or something panicked her, causing her to abandon the baby in the preserve before fleeing.”

John hated lying, but there was no other way to explain how he was the father of Stiles, especially since pretty much the entire town knew that his baby son died five years ago. He could have just adopted Stiles, but he wanted the world to know that Stiles was his blood child.

True to Melissa’s word, the paternity test had only taken two days to get back. He had been trying to prepare himself for the results being negative, the tale of sparks so incredibly unbelievable, but much to his surprise and immense relief, the test came back without a shadow of a doubt that Stiles was his son. He may have briefly passed out after receiving the news, but luckily he had been in his office with only Talia and Peter at the time. His first thought upon waking was to rush to Melissa’s where Stiles was having a play date with Scott and tell his son that he was his biological father, but he had decided to hold off against doing that until after he settled everything with Stiles’ social worker. Talia had also pointed out that this would be a wonderful Christmas gift to give Stiles on Christmas morning since it was the only thing his son had asked Santa for. It was hard, but he could hold out for a few more days.

“John, this is a miracle,” the social worker gushed. “This could be a Hallmark channel Christmas movie. Sheriff falls in love with orphan boy while out picking a Christmas tree then discovers the boy is his son who he previously thought was dead. Such an incredible miracle!”

John smiled awkwardly. “I would like to keep this under wraps for now, until I have had a chance to tell Stiles. I just wanted to get everything with you straightened out first so I can legally claim him.”

With a grin on her face and tears in her eyes the social worker waved her hand in the air. “Let Mr. Hale and myself worry about all that, John, you just go home and hug that boy of yours for the rest of the night.”

***TW

Being one of the oldest members on the force, John had heard stories over the years from his deputies retelling how their children woke them before sunrise on Christmas morning all excited and anxious to open their gifts, yet here he was up before the sun, and up before Stiles, tempted to wake his son up so they could start their very first Christmas together. He wouldn’t wake him up of course...at least not yet anyway.

With a cup of coffee in his hand, he walked out to the living room, his heart skipping a few beats as he looked around at all the festive decorations. Claudia use to love to decorate for Christmas, but she had always been subtle and tasteful. Stiles though, Stiles had his living room looking like Christmas threw up in it...and he loved it. He loved the gaudy garland draped on every surface around the room, he loved the rows of multicolored lights plugged into every outlet, he loved the damn dancing stuffed penguin that sang and danced to Frosty the Snowman, he loved the construction paper Christmas crafts that Stiles made with Melissa and Scott that were taped to every wall and dangling from his ceiling, but most of all, he loved that damn pathetic little Christmas tree that even though it was bent over with the amount of ornaments on it, the little thing still looked happy and proud as it lit up his living room. Was it weird of him to want to hug the poor thing? His son was turning him into such a softie.

Eyes drifting down to the mound of colorfully wrapped presents under the tree, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had gone a bit overboard. He probably had, there were a lot of presents for Stiles under the tree, but he felt as though he had four missed christmases to make up for. Stiles had confessed to him a few nights ago that the home really didn’t do much for Christmas. The only decoration they put up was an artificial Christmas tree that was prelit and only two feet tall that the staff couldn’t be bothered to decorate, nor would they allow Stiles to decorate it since most of the times he was the only kid without a home for Christmas. As for presents, Stiles said he mostly just got used clothes for Christmas and a few books. It confused and upset him because he thought group homes did more for the kids in their care, especially over the holidays. He was going to ask Peter to look into the home and it’s workers. There was something fishy and not right about the whole thing.

John was just about to head back in the kitchen to whip up some chocolate chip pancakes for Stiles when he heard the pitter patter of little feet making their way down the stairs. “Good morning, Stiles, and Merry Christmas,” he said greeting his son who who could barely walk a straight line, his face still red with sleep and his hair all muffed up.

“Good mor...” Stiles froze, his eyes locked on all the presents under the tree. “He came! Santa came!” Stiles cried in disbelief.

“You must have been a very good boy, son, that’s a lot of presents under the tree for you.”

“For me?” Stiles whispered. “Those are all for me?”

“Yup! I checked, your name is on all of them.”

“But there’s hundreds,” Stiles said as he slowly made his way towards the tree as if in a trance.

“Well, maybe not a hundred presents, son, but there are a lot.” John chuckled.

“I have never seen so many presents before, what am I going to do with them all?”

It hurt John’s heart to know that his boy had missed out on so much and that having a bunch of presents under the tree was overwhelming him. Both Claudia and him had desperately wanted a baby and finding out that she was pregnant had been the happiest day in his life. When they lost their son so close to his birth, a piece of them had died with their baby. Claudia had never been the same after that, and then she had gotten sick and died shortly after. The past five years he has been going through the motions, living each day as it came, but he hasn’t been truly happy...at least not until now. He didn’t care how Stiles came to be, he didn’t care how insanely unbelievable it was, he had his baby boy back and that was all that mattered to him. From here on out he was going to do his best to make sure that Stiles is happy and healthy and loved.

John knelt down in front of his son, placing his hands on his too thin shoulders. “Hey, kiddo, you don’t have to open them all right now if you don’t want to, they’re not going anywhere. If you want, you can open a couple now then have some breakfast. Heck, if you want to only open one a day that’s fine with me too.”

Stiles threw his arms over the sheriff’s neck and clung to him. “You are the nicest and bestest sheriff in the world and I wish you were my real daddy. I love it here and I love you and I never, ever, ever want to leave.”

John had discussed a long time with Talia, Peter and Deaton on how best to tell Stiles the truth about how he came to be and that he was his biological father, but how were you supposed to tell a five year old that he technically died inside his mommy’s tummy but magic decided to hijack his soul, merge with him, give him a new body, then dump him in the woods? He couldn’t even wrap his head around it, how was Stiles supposed to?

Grabbing a wrapped gift the size of a folder that he had set aside on the coffee table, John handed it to Stiles. “I don’t know if this is the right time to be giving this to you seeing as you’re already feeling overwhelmed with everything going on, but Santa left you this extra special gift.”

Sniffling, Stiles took the gift from the sheriff then climbed onto the couch. “Can I open it?”

“Only if you want to, buddy.”

Stiles ran his fingers over the bright red wrapping paper that had Santa’s happy face plastered all over it. Taking a deep breath, he grasped one corner of the paper and pulled, ripping it right down the center. Quickly discarding the wrapping paper, he found himself holding a thin blue folder. Opening it, he pulled out a single piece of official looking paper. “Certificate of Birth?” He asked not taking his eyes off of the paper. “Who is M...Mie...M...”

“Mieczyslaw,” The sheriff chuckled with tears in his eyes as he took a seat on the couch next to his son.

“That’s a funny name,” Stiles giggled. “Who is Mieczyslaw Stiles Stilinski?”

“You are, Stiles. You are Mieczyslaw Stiles Stilinski.”

Stiles little face scrunched up in confusion as he looked up at the sheriff. “I’m Mieczyslaw Stiles Stilinski? I don’t understand. Did you adopt me?”

John tapped the birth certificate in his son’s hands. Thanks to Peter he had managed to get his son’s birth certificate in one day where normally it would have taken a couple weeks to get. Peter may be a sarcastic pain in the ass, but the man was good at his job and not too many people wanted to go against Peter Hale, or get on his bad side. He didn’t know if money or threats were involved in getting the birth certificate so fast, but right now he didn’t care. He’s not ashamed to admit that after Peter delivered the Birth Certificate to him late last night that he had locked himself up in his bedroom and cried for an hour. He had dug out his son’s Stillbirth Certificate from his lockbox then sobbed while he held both certificates in his trembling hands.

“Stiles, this is a birth certificate, not an adoption certificate.”

Stiles looked back down at the certificate, his eyes quickly scanning it. “It says that you are Mieczyslaw Stiles Stilinski’s father and that your wife was his mother. If I’m Mieczyslaw, that that means you are...”

“You’re father,” John finished with a large grin on his face. “Stiles, I am you real father.”

“My daddy!” Stiles whispered breathlessly. “I don’t... How?”

John sighed, he still wasn’t sure what to tell Stiles. “Stiles, it’s a long and very sad story, not to mention very complicated. I’m not really sure how much you will understand because I myself don’t even understand it all. Five years ago I thought my baby boy died before he even got a chance to live. Somehow a miracle happened and magic saved my son, but I didn’t know it, not until I met you. Last week when we had tests done at the hospital, that was a paternity test, a test that checks to see if two people are related. The test proved that I am your father and that you are my son.”

“You’re my real daddy?” Stiles choked out as his bottom lip started to quiver. “My daddy, daddy? My real daddy?”

John scooped up his son and damn near crushed him to his chest. “I am you’re daddy, Stiles, one hundred percent. I thought I lost you five years ago, but now you’re here and I’m never going to let you go. You are my heart, my everything, and I’m going to be the best daddy to you that I can be.”

Stiles started crying, but they were tears of joy, not sadness. “You’re keeping me, I don’t ever have to go back to the home?”

“I’m keeping you, kiddo. Forever and ever!” John held his boy until he stopped crying. He hated that he was crying on Christmas morning, but at least he wasn’t crying because he was all alone in a home where no one seemed to care about him and with no Christmas presents. Stiles was home, safe, and had a dad that planned on smothering him with love.

Sitting up, Stiles used his shirt to wipe at his red and snotty face. “Am I allowed to call you dad? I never called anyone dad before.”

“Seeing as I am your dad, kiddo, I would love for you to call me dad.”

“Dad,” Stiles said as if it was the most precious word in the world. “Can I open another present now, dad?”

John knew that his heart just skipped a few beats at being called dad for the very first time. After losing both his son and wife, he never thought he’d have the opportunity to be a daddy. He still ached over the loss of his son something fiercely, having his boy in his arms now didn’t take that pain away. He was thrilled to have his son again, it was a damn miracle, but he still lost five important and amazing years with him.

“You can open them all if you want.”

Stiles slid off the couch and made it his way to the tree, but before picking a present to unwrap, he reached out and placed his hand on the tree. “Nemy says he’s happy that you finally found me, dad. He said that he’s sorry, that he wishes he could have given me to you a long time ago, but it hadn’t been in his power. He said that we had to naturally find each other.”

John didn’t know what to say to that, what was he supposed to say to a tree? “Uhm, I guess tell him I’m happy to have you now.”

“He knows,” Stiles said simply as he bent down and picked up one of his gifts.

John was not freaked out that some big magical tree out in the middle of the preserve could sense his feelings. He wasn’t! Okay, maybe just a bit, but he was in a werewolf pack and crazy shit like this came with the territory.

“Batman!” Stiles cried, breaking John out of his thoughts. “I can’t believe that Santa got me a Batman action figure for Christmas and a daddy. Best Christmas ever!”

John agreed, this was the best Christmas ever.

***TW

John pulled up to the police station, his son humming away happily in the backseat as he flipped through one of the superhero books that Santa brought him for Christmas. After their bumpy start, Christmas morning had went amazingly. Stiles, after he had settled down, had opened all his presents, spending time with each one before moving on to the next. Yes he had went a bit crazy with Batman and superhero stuff, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. “We’re here, kiddo.”

Stiles’ little head popped up as he set his book down. “Yay, I haven’t seen Charlie Brown in two days.”

John shook his head fondly. After the tree had snitched on his deputies for calling him a Charlie Brown Christmas tree, Stiles had decided that he liked the name so he lovingly named the station’s tree Charlie Brown. His deputies adored Stiles, but when he wasn’t around, they teased the living hell out him over Charlie Brown the Christmas tree. They may tease him, but he has caught more than a few of them looking fondly at that damn tree.

“Don’t forget your coffee cup!” Stiles cried as he unbuckled his seatbelt then jumped out of the car.

John lovingly picked up the gift his son gave him, his eyes misting up again even though he had cried for five minutes straight after opening it. He hadn’t known it, but during one of the times Melissa had watched Stiles she had taken the boys out Christmas shopping. He hadn’t expected a gift from Stiles so when he handed him a crudely wrapped box he had been blown away, but when he opened it and found a #1 DAD coffee mug, he had lost it and cried. It was the most cliche gift ever for a dad, but it was the second best gift in the world to him. Stiles was his first ever best gift in the world.

“Hey, boss, that was a good prank you played, but it’s Christmas, not April Fools day.”

John looked to his deputy who was just exiting the station having no idea what the hell he was talking about. “What prank, Deputy?”

The cop snorted. “Right, boss, as if you didn’t know.”

John watched his deputy climb into his car, still not knowing what he was talking about. “Any idea what he was talking about?” He asked his son.

Stiles shook his head no. “I didn’t know you were allowed to play pranks on Christmas too, that’s awesome.”

“No, Stiles, no pranks on Christmas. I think Deputy Garner has been hitting the eggnog a little too hard.”

“What’s eggnog?” Stiles asked as he slipped under his dad’s arm as he was holding the door open.

“Its a drink made from eggs, but sometimes people put stuff in it that little kids can’t have.”

“Like wine?” Stiles asked innocently. “Mrs. Ramsey from the home would have a glass of wine every night, but she said that little kids weren’t allowed to drink it because it could make them very sick.”

“Well, I’m not so sure Mrs. Ramsey should be drinking wine while working, but she’s right, it can make you sick.”

“Merry Christmas, Sheriff,” Deputy Graeme said as she gave the sheriff a hug.

“Graeme, I thought I gave you the morning off?”

“You did, Sir, but I just had to stop in and see your prank for myself. Good one, boss, didn’t know you had it in you.”

Once again John was left clueless as Deputy Graeme left the station. “Prank,” he mumbled.

Deputy Parrish was next to greet the sheriff. “Sir, you have got to see this. Everyone is saying that you pulled off a great prank, but I know that you didn’t. I didn’t correct them of course, but it’s pretty amazing.”

John froze when his eyes landed on Charlie Brown, though Charlie Brown wasn’t looking very Charlie Brown at the moment. Instead of a pathetic tree that could barely hold its decorations up, there was a magnificent tree over seven feet tall standing proud in the middle of the station looking beautiful. “What the hell happened to Charlie Brown?” Charlie Brown may not have been the best Christmas tree, or even remotely pretty, but the little tree had character and he had grown awfully fond of it.

“Rumor is you came in early this morning and switched it, but I have been here all night and all morning so I know for a fact that you didn’t switch trees. Sir, I left the room for one minute to heat my breakfast in the break room, and when I came back, that tree was standing there. There’s no way someone could have come in and switched trees without me knowing.”

“What time did this happen?” John asked going into cop mode.

“A little after eight, sir.”

John thought back, that was around the time he had gifted his son with his birth certificate. Worried about how Stiles was taking the loss of Charlie Brown, his favorite of all the trees he guilted him into purchasing, he quickly joined him next to the tree where his son had his hand on it, talking to it. “Stiles, I’m really sorry about Charlie Brown.”

“Why, did something happen to Charlie? Was he bad?”

John pointed to the beautiful tree. “I’m sorry someone took Charlie Brown down and replaced it with this tree.”

Stiles started giggling. “You’re silly, daddy, this is Charlie Brown. I told you he would look all pretty and happy on Christmas.”

John’s eyes snapped back to the tree. “What? How can this be Charlie Brown?”

“Magic,” Stiles said dreamily. “Nemy said I did it when I found out that you were my daddy.”

Jordan gave an impressive whistle. “That’s pretty incredible kid.”

John was a little frightened. Not of Stiles or of his magic, but of people finding out and wanting to use him. He was going to have to talk to Deaton about finding a way to train him, though the Nemeton seemed to be helping him and guiding him. He was also confident that once all the pack met Stiles that they would all fall in love with him and want to protect him. “Charlie Brown looks beautiful, son, you did good.”

Stiles smiled at the tree. “He’s happy, dad, his Christmas wish has come true too, just like mine.”

Jordan bumped the sheriff’s shoulder. “Nice mug, sir.” He said with a smirk

The sheriff proudly held up his mug. “That it is, son, that it is. Stiles and Charlie Brown aren’t the only ones whose Christmas wish came true. I never believed in miracles before, especially after losing the baby and Claudia, but that little boy has made me a believer. I got my boy back, Jordan, I got my boy back.”

“I’m happy for you, sir, and I’m happy for Stiles. The two of you deserve to be happy. Are you heading to the pack house after this for dinner?”

“Of course, I have to show off my #1 DAD mug.”

“Momma McCall and Scotty are going to be there too!” Stiles said excitedly. “I can’t wait to show Scotty my Batman and Iron Man action figures.”

Jordan dramatically slapped his hand on his forehead. “I’m so stupid, I almost forgot.” Jordan jogged to his desk and grabbed the present that was sitting on it. “This is for you, kid. Merry Christmas.”

“You got me a present?” Stiles gasped.

“Of course, you’re my favorite little delinquent.”

Stiles started giggling. “You liked having to pick me up at the Christmas tree farm because it gave you an excuse to buy apple pie on the way back to the home.”

“Hey, I bought you apple pie too.” Jordan reminded as he handed the gift over.

Stiles happily took the present then tore into it. “Wow! Look, dad, Deputy Parrish got me a Captain America action figure. This is awesome! Thanks, Deputy Parrish.”

Jordan braced himself as Stiles slammed into his legs, hugging him around the waist. “You’re welcome, kid. Maybe one day your dad will let me take you out for apple pie again.”

“Only if you bring me back some.” John said as he winked at his son.

“Dad, can I go and introduce Captain America to Batman and Iron Man? I left them in the car.”

John nodded his head. “Sure, son, I’ll be right out after I fill my #1 DAD mug up with coffee.”

Jordan followed his boss to the coffee maker. “Your face lights up every time he calls you dad.”

John didn’t even try to hide his cheesy grin. “I’m happy, Jordan, so incredibly happy. For the past few years I have just been going through the motions, doing what I had to do to make it to the next sunrise, but I wasn’t truly living. I now have something to look forward to, someone to live for. I’m excited, I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.”

“I’m happy for you,” Jordan said sincerely. “And if you ever need anything, I’m here for both you and Stiles.”

John inclined his head, patting Jordan on his shoulder. Seeing Charlie Brown sparkling at him out of the corner of his eye, he approached the tree, his treasured coffee mug held tight in his hand. Looking around to make sure no one was looking at him, he reached out and touched the tree. “Thank you, Charlie Brown, for giving me my son back, I promise that I’ll always treasure, love, and look out for him. I understand that Stiles is a very special boy that will need to be looked after and protected, I swear on my life that I will do everything within my power to keep him safe and happy. Thank you again, Charlie Brown, and Merry Christmas.”

John turned when he heard little feet running up behind him. “Come on, dad, we’re going to be late, and Peter said if we’re late he won’t have time to take me out in the preserve to see Nemy.

“I’m coming, son. I’m coming.”

Stiles reached out and excitedly took his dad’s hand. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, son.”