Hey Dad..

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A few days passed then of just.. Normal life. Whatever that was anymore. He'd skyped with Lydia again to speak about the book Deaton had showed to him and to discuss his weird behaviour. Lydia had given him the pdf of a journal from a potential spark in return. He spoke to Scott, to Kira and to Malia about what they'd been picking up, helping him with the bestiary he was putting together. He was planning to bother Peter soon and maybe bully the pack into another film night but there was one thing that was glaringly clear (especially since Lydia text him several times every day to remind him to do it), he needed to speak to his dad.

It was unclear how much his father knew of his mother or how much he remembered, as Stiles' memories were missing so it wasn't unlikely that he too would be unaware where he previously had been. Noah had been so confused when Stiles had revealed the supernatural, and he couldn't imagine that his father had been acting, he must not have known surely.

Stiles sat on the sofa with his leg bouncing furiously. Derek had said the best thing to do was be honest and open and Stiles had agreed, his dad deserved that after all the secrets he'd been keeping in recent years, but it was hard. He was waiting for him to get home from just a regular shift, there was a surprising lack of supernatural chaos in Beacon Hills. When he heard the key in the lock, a pulse of anxiety flooded through him and made his stomach feel like it was turning inside out. Talking about his mom just wasn't something they did, not together or with other people until recently for Stiles. The idea of bringing up his mom at all was enough to make him nervous, but to find out of his mother had stolen a whole part of both of their lives for unknown reasons.. That was just so much worse.

"Hey kiddo! I'm-" Noah called out loudly as he walked inside, expecting Stiles to be up in his room absorbed in a task but there he was, sitting on the sofa, looking a little green, "home. What's going on?" He asked immediately, forgoing even taking off his shoes in favour of going straight to his son. Stiles smiled at that. This was his dad, the same dad that had been with him here through everything else, and he wouldn't react in any way that should make Stiles so anxious.
"I wanna talk about something." Stiles started, glad when his dad relaxed slightly. He knew he didn't need to be worried about his relationship with his dad, but he did worry about the toll that the information he had would take.
"Well, you can always talk to me. You know that." Noah replied, taking Stiles' hand in his own for his son to squeeze and keep himself grounded. Stiles nodded and took a deep breath to calm himself as much as he could given the circumstances.
"You know I told you about the Nemeton?" He began, and a lot of deep conversation began.

Noah remembered nothing of Claudia's magic. It was a devastating blow. To know he was missing a whole piece of his life with his wife, the woman he believed to be his genuine soulmate. He was missing memories from before Stiles was born, right back to the time that he and Claudia first met, he realised upon reflection. She'd taken Noah's memories just as she had Stiles'. Stiles and his dad held each other while they cried, mourned the loss of something that they hadn't even known they were missing. Stiles told his dad about his remembering Jackson, and Noah was left floored. He didn't know Stiles had forgotten. Noah could remember clearly times when they would play together and could remember the day Stiles came home and declared that Jackson was weird and he didn't like him. Noah had been confused, tried to understand where it had come from, but eventually just let it go. His son was stubborn, he wasn't one to be convinced.

Claudia had robbed them both of something, and they couldn't understand why. Why could she want to take away from her boys the chance to remember her in her entirety, the chance to understand what was really happening in their town. Noah had a suspicion that if he'd remembered Claudia, that he would've known what was going on with Scott and Stiles much sooner and he would've been there with them in the beginning and been able to help them with all their early werewolf struggles. He found himself feeling sick with the thought that Claudia would take the memories from him, knowing they could cause damage.

It was with the two of them sitting on the sofa, Stiles wrapped up in his father's arms and head on his chest, that Noah remembered something.

"In the attic, there's a box of Claudia's things. She said one day you'd need them, and I'd know when that was." He said softly, smiling at Stiles as he sat up, interested on what on Earth his mother could have possibly left for him. They headed up to the attic together, Noah opening up the hatch but it was Stiles that climbed up the ladder, not wanting to risk the rickety thing giving out and causing his father permanent damage. He lifted himself up through the hatch, coughing softly at the dust in the air. He crawled around until he found a brown cardboard box labelled with his name in his mother's handwriting. The same box his dad had told him about.

He opened it up before taking it down, he needed to know what was in it. The first thing he found was an envelope with the word 'mischief' written on the front in his mom's familiar chicken scratch handwriting that wasn't so dissimilar from his own. He took it and sat cross-legged on the floor of the attic, and opened it.

My Mischief,

If you're reading this, I believe you will have met Arabella. If you haven't, please follow my wishes and return this envelope to the box, do not go looking for her. You will meet her when you are ready. She will call for you.

I can only apologise, my Genim, my Mischief, my Mieczysław, for what I have taken away from you. What I have taken from your father. From your friends. I promise it was a necessary evil. I would not have done it if it was not something needed for your survival. I took your memories, memories of me, memories of my magic. I love you very dearly and I know your own magic must now be incredibly strong, that you have likely grown into a young man I could only dream of.

Go to Jackson. He will remember. The moment you accept your past, the spell will break for all others that I placed it on and they will all remember. Ask Talia for her help with the discomfort of remembering, she has a herbal tea that always helped me. She'd offered to do this part for me, but I'd wanted you to have a chance to remember, to get back the pieces of childhood that you were missing.

As things happen, you will get more letters. Trust me, trust that before I began to lose my mind I knew what I was doing, and trust that no matter what happened to me near the end that I love you more than I have ever loved anything else. My Mischief.

Love,
Your mom

By the time he was done reading, Stiles was crying. He couldn't help it. She had been friends with Talia. He wondered if he'd played with Derek as a child, whether remembering Jackson was the first step toward remembering so much else that he had taken from him. Maybe there was a reason he was so drawn to the Hales, maybe his mother was the reason he'd accepted the idea of Werewolves so easily. He had so many questions for her and so many things he wanted to know. He hoped her other letters could give him some answers.

He put the letter back into the box, then carried it down. He went with his dad through to his room and set the box gently down in the bed. It was only a small box and it was filled with letters from his mother. There was one for Scott, one for Jackson, one for Theo, one for Peter.. One for Talia, and finally one for Noah. The rest were for Stiles. He took each of the letters for the people he knew and gently set them aside, figuring he'd give the letter that his mom had written for Talia to Derek. He'd appreciate it, he thought. The next letter to the top was also addressed to Mischief, and he figured it wouldn't hurt to open it, but his dad's hand stopped him.

"Your friends' letters were on top. I think you should worry about those, first." He said with a small nod and an emotional smile. Stiles reluctantly agreed and closed the box again before sliding it under the bed. For another time.

Now.. he had a pack meeting to organise.

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