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1lostoneI don't think this needs a heading. It's fluffy, fluffy, fluff. It's basically a prompt fill for musicalglutton who had prompted Stiles in Build-a-Bear workshop on tumblr.
Stiles wasn’t exactly a big fan of mall shopping. Beacon Hills wasn’t big enough to warrant their own mall, so kids usually had to go twenty miles out of their way to go hang out. Stiles usually had much more interesting things to do.
Well okay, there was that brief stalking period in middle school where his long-suffering mom had carted him and Scott to the mall so that he could trail after Lydia and her friends in a pheromone-induced haze, but that wasn’t quite the same. All that had done was made him physically and emotionally dependent on Auntie Anne’s pretzels because seriously. Those things were like manna from heaven.
Stiles hated the crowds, he hated the stores, he hated the stupid piped music. Because, really, who does that to the Beatles? It should be freaking outlawed.
Stiles wanted it absolutely understood that he was only here under extreme duress. Of course Scott’s mom hardly ever asked for anything for her birthday. Of course Scott couldn’t remember the name of the damn bottle of perfume, only where she bought it. It was expensive enough to warrant a trip to the mall, and since Scott had been grounded after the whole kidnapping Jackson incident, this particular gift had overtones of desperation-induced peace offering to it. Enough that Scott was actually shelling out the cost of it from his hard-earned wages. Enough that Scott was actually not spending money on Allison.
Stiles ate the last bit of pretzel, dipping it into the sugar with a morose frown on his face. He didn’t begrudge Mrs. McCall her nifty smelling perfume. Or her birthday, really. It was just sometimes... sometimes it was really hard to shop for Scott’s mom. It made him remember he and his dad’s own clandestine birthday shopping trips. Stiles was pretty sure he came by his mall-hatred genetically. He sighed. Scott would be back in ten minutes. He could make it ten more lousy minutes. Stiles stood up to throw away his trash, and his gaze was caught by something he saw in the window of the store. He bit his lip, and was walking over there before he could change his mind.
When Stiles was in preschool, his mom had taken him to Build-a-Bear workshop for his birthday. Stiles hadn’t really been all that outgoing of a kid, but he clearly remembered walking through the doors and being absolutely stunned by all the kids with their matching teddy bears and had really, really wanted one. He had found the most lonely of little bears, and immediately christened it ‘Teddy,’ and his grinning mom had walked with him through the line of getting it stuffed and cleaned. He’d found a really awesome hoodie for it, and some tennis shoes just like Stiles’- ones that lit up when he walked- and a really cool pair of sunglasses.
It was basically the most awesome teddy bear in teddy bear existence. Stiles took it everywhere. Teddy had gone on vacation to Disney with them, had rode in his backpack on his way to school, had sat next to him in the cart at the grocery store. Everywhere that Stiles went, Teddy went. He’d eventually grown out of it though. He was pretty sure that His kindergarten teacher, Mr. Harris, had made fun of him for drawing Teddy and his mom and his dad as his family. Stiles remembered suddenly that Teddy was sitting on the top shelf of his closet, behind a stack of board games.
Stiles saw a little girl looking at him and he smiled a little. “Hi.”
“Hi. Are you getting a bear? They’re pretty fluffy.” She held up a Hello Kitty that was almost as big as she was. They were wearing the same dress. The little girl was missing her front teeth, and her lisp made her miss the "t" sounds.
Stiles felt like he’d been punched in the face by cuteness. “No.. I don’t think so. I think I’m too big.”
The girl’s brow furrowed. “How can you be too big to love a friend? This is Kitty. She’s my friend and I love her. My mommy says that people are lucky to get love at all, and when you find it you should keep it.”
“Your mommy is right. I don’t think I want a bear though. And my friends might not like the Hello Kitty. They’re .. not big cat fans.”
The girl looked baffled, like she couldn’t imagine a world where people didn’t adore Hello Kitty. “Oh. Well maybe you can get a dog? I saw some over there.”
Stiles had to smile a little as the little girl held Hello Kitty’s right hand, offering Hello Kitty’s left hand to Stiles. Stiles took it. He looked around for the girl’s mother who was just shaking her head in a ‘what-can-you-do’ kind of way. Which was good since he didn’t want them to call the police on him. Those mall cops were evil. “Well... I don’t know if I want a dog.”
“Just look! They’re pretty neat. This one has big fluffy ears! And this brown one has the cutest eyes.”
Stiles nodded, agreeing that the big, brown eyes were pretty cute. He saw a flash of grey and white and stooped to pick it up. It was kind of sitting off from the other stuffed animal carcases, like hundreds of little hands had looked at it, shrugged and put it to the side. “What do you think about this one?”
“I don’t think that’s a dog. I think that’s a wolf.”
Stiles tilted the little face to the side, staring. It must have been a trick of the fluorescent lights, but he could swear that the little stuffed wolf’s eyes glinted red for a second.
“I think I like this one.”
The girl looked at him, plainly thinking that he was nuts to pick that out of the multitude of puppified cuteness in front of them, but just shrugged. “It’s not even a happy wolf. It looks like it’s frowning.”
Stiles felt his heart give a funny sort of leap. “Maybe it’s a sourwolf.”
“Come with me. I’ll show you how to get it made into a stuffed wolf. Maybe it just needs its heart to be happy.” Hello Kitty was offered again, and again Stiles took it the bright pink paw, listening to the little girl tell him all about how to care for his new wolf, and how you could dress it and everything.
She even helped him pick out a leather jacket.
Seven minutes, and forty bucks later, Stiles was watching Scott walk up to him, holding the small perfume bag like it was molten gold. Scott gave him a weird look when he saw the label on Stiles’ bag, but didn’t say anything.
“Do you have wrapping paper?”
Scott grinned. “The lady at the store wrapped it for me. Isn’t that awesome? Stiles nodded as they walked back out to his jeep with their purchases. He didn’t feel quite as like his soul had been sucked out of his eyeballs. In fact, Stiles was feeling downright friendly towards malls, and cute little spokespeople of cuteness in general.
***
When he got home, he made a place for his stuffed wolf on his bookshelf. Five minutes later a freshly-dusted Teddy sat beside him, leaning a little to the left. (Teddy had been squished and hugged and used as a pillow and generally loved so much that the stuffing was uneven. Stiles was mildly horrified to see that he has spilled something on the red hoodie, and he immediately took it off so that he could wash it.)
Every once in awhile Teddy’s tennis shoe would flash, calling attention to the way the two stuffed animals sat, staring out over Stiles’ room.
***
It wasn’t much longer after that that Stiles almost had his arm ripped off by a really pissed-off werewolf. Not one of Derek’s pack. A rival pack had decided that they wanted the entire Stiles Stilinski Experience for themselves and that had resulted in a really uncomfortable, almost literal tug of war. between Scott and the pissed-off werewolf. Derek and his troops had shown up about the time Stiles had his arm dislocated by the other Beta wolf.
Stiles wasn’t quite sure what short straw Derek had pulled to be the one who was elected to make sure he got home okay, but after about three of the white little pills Mrs. McCall had given him, Stiles didn’t really care.
"--so then I said that I wasn’t really interested but the dude didn’t listen. I'm already in a pack, thanks. What is that like, a werewolf thing? Because I hate to say it buddy, but that’s kind of a noticeable trend. Scott doesn’t listen. Isaac listens to you. Boyd.. who the hell knows what that guy does. He’s like a Zen master. Who can tear out someone’s throat. Erica.. well, I don’t actually know if she listens because she kind of scares me and whoooa. Ow.” Owwwww. Derek had plopped Stiles on his bed, jarring his arm.
“Sorry.”
The drugs made Stiles bold as he reached forward and patted Derek’s head. “You’re such a sour wolf. Kind of like my sour wolf, but not.” Stiles made a flaily gesture towards his bookshelf. Teddy's shoe flashed. Stiles was used to the random flashes from the twelve-plus year old battery that lit up the shoe, but Derek seemed startled by something.
Derek froze for a moment, then crouched a little towards Stiles’ feet.
Stiles licked his lips. “Am I drooling on myself? ‘Cuz it feels like I’m drooling on myself.” He felt Derek push him back on his bed, felt his shoes being taken off. He must have dozed a little bit, because Stiles blinked awake at the sound of his window sliding open. “Th’ks, Derek,” Stiles mumbled sleepily as he burrowed into his blanket. “Thanks for saving me.”
There wasn’t any answer, but when Stiles woke up the next morning, both his Sourwolf and Teddy were sitting on his night stand, like they were watching over him while he slept.
Stiles wasn’t exactly a big fan of mall shopping. Beacon Hills wasn’t big enough to warrant their own mall, so kids usually had to go twenty miles out of their way to go hang out. Stiles usually had much more interesting things to do.
Well okay, there was that brief stalking period in middle school where his long-suffering mom had carted him and Scott to the mall so that he could trail after Lydia and her friends in a pheromone-induced haze, but that wasn’t quite the same. All that had done was made him physically and emotionally dependent on Auntie Anne’s pretzels because seriously. Those things were like manna from heaven.
Stiles hated the crowds, he hated the stores, he hated the stupid piped music. Because, really, who does that to the Beatles? It should be freaking outlawed.
Stiles wanted it absolutely understood that he was only here under extreme duress. Of course Scott’s mom hardly ever asked for anything for her birthday. Of course Scott couldn’t remember the name of the damn bottle of perfume, only where she bought it. It was expensive enough to warrant a trip to the mall, and since Scott had been grounded after the whole kidnapping Jackson incident, this particular gift had overtones of desperation-induced peace offering to it. Enough that Scott was actually shelling out the cost of it from his hard-earned wages. Enough that Scott was actually not spending money on Allison.
Stiles ate the last bit of pretzel, dipping it into the sugar with a morose frown on his face. He didn’t begrudge Mrs. McCall her nifty smelling perfume. Or her birthday, really. It was just sometimes... sometimes it was really hard to shop for Scott’s mom. It made him remember he and his dad’s own clandestine birthday shopping trips. Stiles was pretty sure he came by his mall-hatred genetically. He sighed. Scott would be back in ten minutes. He could make it ten more lousy minutes. Stiles stood up to throw away his trash, and his gaze was caught by something he saw in the window of the store. He bit his lip, and was walking over there before he could change his mind.
When Stiles was in preschool, his mom had taken him to Build-a-Bear workshop for his birthday. Stiles hadn’t really been all that outgoing of a kid, but he clearly remembered walking through the doors and being absolutely stunned by all the kids with their matching teddy bears and had really, really wanted one. He had found the most lonely of little bears, and immediately christened it ‘Teddy,’ and his grinning mom had walked with him through the line of getting it stuffed and cleaned. He’d found a really awesome hoodie for it, and some tennis shoes just like Stiles’- ones that lit up when he walked- and a really cool pair of sunglasses.
It was basically the most awesome teddy bear in teddy bear existence. Stiles took it everywhere. Teddy had gone on vacation to Disney with them, had rode in his backpack on his way to school, had sat next to him in the cart at the grocery store. Everywhere that Stiles went, Teddy went. He’d eventually grown out of it though. He was pretty sure that His kindergarten teacher, Mr. Harris, had made fun of him for drawing Teddy and his mom and his dad as his family. Stiles remembered suddenly that Teddy was sitting on the top shelf of his closet, behind a stack of board games.
Stiles saw a little girl looking at him and he smiled a little. “Hi.”
“Hi. Are you getting a bear? They’re pretty fluffy.” She held up a Hello Kitty that was almost as big as she was. They were wearing the same dress. The little girl was missing her front teeth, and her lisp made her miss the "t" sounds.
Stiles felt like he’d been punched in the face by cuteness. “No.. I don’t think so. I think I’m too big.”
The girl’s brow furrowed. “How can you be too big to love a friend? This is Kitty. She’s my friend and I love her. My mommy says that people are lucky to get love at all, and when you find it you should keep it.”
“Your mommy is right. I don’t think I want a bear though. And my friends might not like the Hello Kitty. They’re .. not big cat fans.”
The girl looked baffled, like she couldn’t imagine a world where people didn’t adore Hello Kitty. “Oh. Well maybe you can get a dog? I saw some over there.”
Stiles had to smile a little as the little girl held Hello Kitty’s right hand, offering Hello Kitty’s left hand to Stiles. Stiles took it. He looked around for the girl’s mother who was just shaking her head in a ‘what-can-you-do’ kind of way. Which was good since he didn’t want them to call the police on him. Those mall cops were evil. “Well... I don’t know if I want a dog.”
“Just look! They’re pretty neat. This one has big fluffy ears! And this brown one has the cutest eyes.”
Stiles nodded, agreeing that the big, brown eyes were pretty cute. He saw a flash of grey and white and stooped to pick it up. It was kind of sitting off from the other stuffed animal carcases, like hundreds of little hands had looked at it, shrugged and put it to the side. “What do you think about this one?”
“I don’t think that’s a dog. I think that’s a wolf.”
Stiles tilted the little face to the side, staring. It must have been a trick of the fluorescent lights, but he could swear that the little stuffed wolf’s eyes glinted red for a second.
“I think I like this one.”
The girl looked at him, plainly thinking that he was nuts to pick that out of the multitude of puppified cuteness in front of them, but just shrugged. “It’s not even a happy wolf. It looks like it’s frowning.”
Stiles felt his heart give a funny sort of leap. “Maybe it’s a sourwolf.”
“Come with me. I’ll show you how to get it made into a stuffed wolf. Maybe it just needs its heart to be happy.” Hello Kitty was offered again, and again Stiles took it the bright pink paw, listening to the little girl tell him all about how to care for his new wolf, and how you could dress it and everything.
She even helped him pick out a leather jacket.
Seven minutes, and forty bucks later, Stiles was watching Scott walk up to him, holding the small perfume bag like it was molten gold. Scott gave him a weird look when he saw the label on Stiles’ bag, but didn’t say anything.
“Do you have wrapping paper?”
Scott grinned. “The lady at the store wrapped it for me. Isn’t that awesome? Stiles nodded as they walked back out to his jeep with their purchases. He didn’t feel quite as like his soul had been sucked out of his eyeballs. In fact, Stiles was feeling downright friendly towards malls, and cute little spokespeople of cuteness in general.
***
When he got home, he made a place for his stuffed wolf on his bookshelf. Five minutes later a freshly-dusted Teddy sat beside him, leaning a little to the left. (Teddy had been squished and hugged and used as a pillow and generally loved so much that the stuffing was uneven. Stiles was mildly horrified to see that he has spilled something on the red hoodie, and he immediately took it off so that he could wash it.)
Every once in awhile Teddy’s tennis shoe would flash, calling attention to the way the two stuffed animals sat, staring out over Stiles’ room.
***
It wasn’t much longer after that that Stiles almost had his arm ripped off by a really pissed-off werewolf. Not one of Derek’s pack. A rival pack had decided that they wanted the entire Stiles Stilinski Experience for themselves and that had resulted in a really uncomfortable, almost literal tug of war. between Scott and the pissed-off werewolf. Derek and his troops had shown up about the time Stiles had his arm dislocated by the other Beta wolf.
Stiles wasn’t quite sure what short straw Derek had pulled to be the one who was elected to make sure he got home okay, but after about three of the white little pills Mrs. McCall had given him, Stiles didn’t really care.
"--so then I said that I wasn’t really interested but the dude didn’t listen. I'm already in a pack, thanks. What is that like, a werewolf thing? Because I hate to say it buddy, but that’s kind of a noticeable trend. Scott doesn’t listen. Isaac listens to you. Boyd.. who the hell knows what that guy does. He’s like a Zen master. Who can tear out someone’s throat. Erica.. well, I don’t actually know if she listens because she kind of scares me and whoooa. Ow.” Owwwww. Derek had plopped Stiles on his bed, jarring his arm.
“Sorry.”
The drugs made Stiles bold as he reached forward and patted Derek’s head. “You’re such a sour wolf. Kind of like my sour wolf, but not.” Stiles made a flaily gesture towards his bookshelf. Teddy's shoe flashed. Stiles was used to the random flashes from the twelve-plus year old battery that lit up the shoe, but Derek seemed startled by something.
Derek froze for a moment, then crouched a little towards Stiles’ feet.
Stiles licked his lips. “Am I drooling on myself? ‘Cuz it feels like I’m drooling on myself.” He felt Derek push him back on his bed, felt his shoes being taken off. He must have dozed a little bit, because Stiles blinked awake at the sound of his window sliding open. “Th’ks, Derek,” Stiles mumbled sleepily as he burrowed into his blanket. “Thanks for saving me.”
There wasn’t any answer, but when Stiles woke up the next morning, both his Sourwolf and Teddy were sitting on his night stand, like they were watching over him while he slept.
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