What Would You Do Without Me? // Teen Wolf

One More Letter

Stiles had immediately messaged the pack group chat to organise another meeting. They complained about having them so close together, so Stiles called out those he had letters for and told them he had something important for each of them, so if nobody else turned up, he needed them to, of course other than Scott who Stiles would speak to over Skype. But now all he had to do was wait, and Stiles hated waiting. He wished that everyone had been free that night but Theo had work and Jackson had to go for dinner with his parents, and it was important that they were there.

So, Stiles did the only reasonable thing, he went back to the box of things that his mother left him. He opened the box and took what looked like the next letter, and noticed that in the corner of the envelope was a little number two. Letter number two. He opened it carefully, not wanting to rip it so that he could return the letter inside once he was done reading it, and pulled the letter from inside.

My Mischief,

You've always been impatient, just like me, so I figured you'd want to start with two letters rather than one. I hope I know you now as well as I'd like to hope I do.

Of course she did. She always knew him better than anyone else, even than his dad sometimes. He missed her.

I can only guess how many questions you have, and I can't begin to tell you how much I wish I could give you the answers. I can only guide you to those who may be able to help you. Magic likes to draw together those that have it, so I'd like to think that by now you would know the Hales. I know that once I take your memories, we'll stop visiting them, but I do hope your magic drew you back to them, maybe when they needed you most.

Peter was a dear friend of mine, and always took a shine to you. He and I were always alike and he was sure you'd turn out to be the same. Peter has a knack for being right, I wonder if he was right about you too.

Oh, Peter sees right through Stiles alright, and he always has. From the moment they met, again he supposes, Peter seemed to know something about Stiles that he didn't even know about himself. He couldn't help but wonder if Peter always knew, if he'd remembered his mom.

I bet you're wondering about the age difference. Talia was always older than both me and your dad, he met Talia just as she was becoming mayor, before he was the Sheriff. He became Sheriff just recently as I'm writing this, it hasn't even been twelve months. Peter is younger than you think he is, even with being a Werewolf, he's just always been old for his age. An old soul if you will. Peter is younger than me, but by a lot less than he's younger than Talia. As I'm writing, Talia is just thirty eight, now I imagine she's around fifty.. I'd have liked to see the woman she's become in that time. If I were alive as you're reading, assuming I'm right and Talia is fifty, I'd be almost forty, just thirty nine years old. And Peter.. Well Peter is only twenty as I'm writing. Turns twenty one in a few months, I'm hoping I can make it to the party. He's so much younger than he acts like he is, don't let him forget that. Normally I'd find it strange to be friends with someone so young, but I'm friends with all the Hales; Talia, Mae, George, Celia and Peter. I always wonder where they'll be as you read this, I can only hope they're happy.

Of course, the Hale fire happened after Claudia 'got bad'. She wouldn't remember it happening, no matter when she wrote the letters. He silently promised his mom that he'd ask Peter and Derek about them all, that he'd honour their memory for both the sake of the remaining Hales and for his mother. She'd cared about them, just like he cares about the Hales now. But, if Peter was almost twenty one when she was writing..

"Peter is only thirty three. He's sixteen years younger than dad. He's only eight years older than Derek.. He's fourteen years older than me." Stiles mumbled as he considered it all. Peter was barely twenty one when the fire happened. Stiles was seven when the fire happened, Derek was thirteen, and Peter was twenty one. "Jesus."

Please, my Genim, listen to matka and read the letters as you're supposed to. Not a moment before. They will guide you as you need them. I cannot guide you myself like I wish that I could, so I need you to pace yourself with the letters so you don't move too quickly and get yourself hurt.

At the bottom of this box is a journal of mine. I inherited it from my father, who you're named after. He was a spark like we are. I don't think you'll need it, I found that I didn't either, but please feel free to add to it. Show it to anyone who will listen. Educate Wolves, Foxes and Druids alike. Tell everyone who we are, because I never had the strength. But you? You, my beautiful boy, are going to make waves I cannot even imagine, I already know it. I can see it in your eyes.

Please, don't miss me too much, because I am always in your heart. I love you, my Genim. Always, until the end.

Love,

Mom

He gently returned the letter to its envelope and began digging more carefully than he ever had through the box. At the bottom, he found a leather bound journal. Just touching it sent waves of exciting energy over his palms and there was no question to his magic that this book belonged to him. It was familiar, in the way deja vu can make things feel familiar, but somehow even more than this. Familial, not just familiar. His magic is generational, as is this book, even if his mom thought he wouldn't need it. 'You are going to make waves I cannot even imagine.' If only she knew.