Chapter Text
Almost everyone is already milling about the diner. Most of the pack, a bunch of other people that Stiles doesn’t know or recognize, and a few that he thinks he vaguely might from frequent trips. His brows furrow as he scans over everyone still downstairs (some people already went up onto the roof in preparation for the countdown that’s looming closer).
Lydia is perched delicately on the edge of one of the tables, looking as stunning as ever in a fitted gold dress, her hair braided into a crown-like style. Sitting in the booth around her and deeply immersed in conversation with her is a boy from their school that Stiles doesn’t know the name of. He’s kinda short, and Stiles thinks he can recall seeing him during lacrosse practice. Maybe a new kid.
Across from him on Lydia’s other side are Kira and Boyd.
Kira’s got the brightest smile lighting up her face, just as she always does, and honestly, he would have thought that it would have scared Boyd off. The guy doesn’t like communicating much and he certainly doesn’t like when people are loud and talk a mile a minute about absolutely nothing to him — Stiles would know .
And yet, it was like best friends at first sight with Kira. If anything, he actually looks fond of her as he nods along with whatever she’s saying. It’s strange to see the two of them so — so bonded . Stiles cannot for the life of him figure it out, but he’s already vowed to himself to just let it go to save himself the utter bewilderment.
Erica and Isaac are chatting away to Ruby a few seats down from himself at the counter. Both of them seem to be having differing feelings about being here; while Erica is laid-back, relaxed, soaking up some of the attention she’s getting and just generally having a good time, Isaac is more reserved and wary of eyes passing over him, and keeps rolling his own eyes. Yet another combination that Stiles did not expect to come out of Beacon Hills, and yet, fate is dragging them all in different directions.
Allison’s standing with her dad, who looks nearly as uncomfortable about being here as Isaac. But he smiles at her nonetheless and even engages in some conversation with her and Malia, who she seems to have dragged over, probably to ensure she doesn’t get bored enough to leave early or to stop her from eating someone before they’ve even hit midnight.
Liam’s huddled in his little group with his usual partners in crime, sitting on top of the booth divider instead of actually in the booth itself and wearing a smile almost as bright as Kira’s. He’s got Mason sitting next to the seat that his feet are technically occupying, Tracy next to him, Corey, Nolan and Josh across from them on the other side with Hayden mirroring Liam on the other divider. Stiles snorts and can’t help shaking his head to himself.
If he’s honest, they look like their own little pack. But then, he supposes, they probably just look like any other friend group. The supernatural has clouded his vision on a lot of typically ordinary things. There’s just something about seeing them all together like they are.
Scott would say that it’s good, that they’re forming such close bonds, it makes them all stronger and he’s glad that they have each other to lean on and support each other even if Liam is technically the only pack member out of them all as the only supernatural one.
Stiles says it’s a little unnerving and reminds him of when they themselves were first starting out as a “pack” with Scott practically an Alpha before he even was one. That in itself isn’t inherently a bad thing. It’s just the thought of this little group of humans lead by one mildly powerful beta turning out to be more than that.
Humans don’t stay human for long in this town. Hell, even he’s been supernatural briefly. Who knows what could happen to Liam’s friends if they were pulled into their world as well? He likes Liam, he’s a good kid, but he is just not up for having more problems, and having human friends who know nothing about this other side of him and this whole other world (aside from Mason, who of course was told within two weeks) always leads to problems one way or another.
Doing another glance around the room, Stiles notices that one of their problems isn’t here. Not that Stiles was in any way expecting him to be. Derek doesn’t show up for anything pack-related at the best of times if it’s not an emergency.
But Scott’s been going on about how worried he is about him that it’s starting to become harder for Stiles to brush it off. Surely he’d at least have texted Scott to tell him that he’s okay when he realized how worried Scott was about him?
There’s only one thing that Stiles has in common with Derek Hale and it’s that they both care about Scott deeply. In very different ways, Stiles hopes and prays because, dear god, he shudders to think otherwise, but Derek still cares about Scott like he’s his own family. He wouldn’t just ignore him.
The thought goes out of Stiles’ mind when his eyes catch sight of Scott’s grandmother, followed by his aunt. A flutter of excitement kicks up in his chest like a horse blowing up dust in preparation for a big race. He pushes away from the counter, winding his way through the crowd of people, muttering a sheepish, “excuse me” and “sorry, just - don’t mind me!”
He finally manages to break through the crowd and finds Scott’s grandmother. She delights at the sight of him, cooing instantly. He laughs it off as she goes on again about how much taller he is now, how he’s as handsome as his father was at his age. Stiles can’t even begin to imagine his dad as a teenager and he isn’t about to start right now.
“It’s nice to see you, too, Granny Gado. I was just looking for Scott, he messaged and told me he was running late,” Stiles explains when he manages to get a word in. “Have you seen him or his mom at all?”
“Oh, of course,” Scott’s gran says with a knowing smile.
“Young lovers these days, not so different from my own more youthful days,” Rose says, teasing. “Can hardly bear to be apart.”
“Do you need me to save you and get you away from this embarrassing show?” Julie whispers to him theatrically, knowing full well that both her mom and her gran can hear her.
“You can hardly blame us for being a little happy, Mija,” her gran says, grinning wide and gesturing at Stiles. “These boys have been playing a game of will they, won’t they for years now. It’s a relief that I’m not going to be dead by the time they announce the wedding.”
Stiles’ heart skips and his face flushes with heat. He’s sure the lighting in this place shows it, too. Coughing awkwardly as Rose gently scolds her with a laugh and Julie raises her eyebrows at him, Stiles decides that making a getaway is a good idea after all. All he can think about now is wedding bells, long aisles, tuxes and cake and Scott and—
“That offer to save me still good?” he asks Julie, and she nods, quickly taking his arm and waving off her gran and mom as she hurries him back through the sea of people.
“Don’t worry, my mom and dad tend to do that to me all the time back home as well,” Julie tells him. “It’s even worse when Abuela visits. They’re convinced I’m in love with one of my bandmates.”
“How does he handle it?” Stiles asks.
Julie hesitates. “It’s a good thing that he’s never around when they start on about it.”
“Smart boy,” Stiles says drily. He doesn’t actually mind, though. Having them tease him about being Scott’s boyfriend makes it feel real for those few moments. It’s nice. Even if it’s not real.
Julie laughs. “Yeah, he’s—he’s really smart. But, to answer your question, before we left, Scott mentioned wanting to check in on a friend? He might be there. Or he’s making himself look nice for you.”
She waggles her eyebrows and Stiles groans.
“Not you, too!”
“I’m sorry, but teasing you is in my contract as your future cousin-in-law,” Julie says as she backs up to the counter with a devious grin. She ignores Stiles’ mock glare with a shrug. “Tell you what, you can do the same to me if I get in a relationship.”
Stiles rolls his eyes but makes the deal all the same. It could come in handy to him later on, even if he and Scott do fake their breakup before then. Which, he realizes with a jolt, they will be doing soon.
After all, the plan was only meant to go until New Year. Now, of course, it’s been stretched a little longer to include the visit from Scott’s family, but even with Scott’s gran potentially moving to town, faking an amicable breakup in the next few days would be the most logical option.
Maybe even tonight. People break up on New Year’s Eve.
Suddenly the whole thing seems daunting. How is he supposed to fake a breakup? Especially when it’s the last thing he would actually want? Sure, it would probably only take a pretend whispered conversation off to the side, followed up by them breaking the news when asked why they didn’t kiss at midnight or something along the lines.
But what if he gets it wrong? What if he slips up? What if he just looks so in love with Scott that they don’t buy it, or they think it wasn’t actually mutual, and then there’s a whole mountain of questions piled on them?
“You okay?” Julie asks, looking concerned. “You look kinda ill. I was only kidding, you know. If it really bothers you, I’ll stop teasing. And I’ll tell my mom and Abuela to ease back a bit as well, if you want.”
Stiles shakes his head, forcing another laugh. “No, no, I’m fine. Really. It’s probably just the lighting in here. And — I’m just worried about Scott.”
A dark look crosses Julie’s face, and she nods understandingly. “I know. I have been, too. I heard about what happened, with his dad. Is Scott… doing okay? I mean, he’s seemed like his usual self the last few days, and he’s been pretty happy, but I know what he’s like. He’s good at hiding the real stuff underneath all of that.”
“I take it he hasn’t said anything to you about it then?” Julie shakes her head and Stiles sighs. Of course not. “He hasn’t talked to me, either. I’ve been trying to open up the conversation to him, but he always finds a way to sidetrack it. I want to believe that he’s okay.”
“Maybe he really is,” Julie says, shrugging, but she bites her lip uncertainly. “Maybe he just needs more time. Or maybe he’s talked to Tía Melissa. I’m sure he’ll be okay, it’s just all still raw right now. Some time will help.”
Stiles knows she’s right. Time usually makes most wounds less painful — he would know from firsthand experience. But part of him thinks that Scott isn’t going to get the chance to heal, or… even won’t allow himself to if his dad continuously shows up in his life, reopening the wound again and again.
“Speaking of your loverboy,” Julie then says, her smile returning.
She nods her head behind Stiles and he turns to find Scott and his mom entering the diner. Relief floods him, so much so that he’s happy to ignore her teasing him as well. She really does take after her mom.
Raising a hand, Stiles catches Scott’s eyes and gestures him over with a wave. He and Julie still move to meet him and Melissa anyway. Scott’s smiling, and there’s a strange look about his expression, but not in the way that it has been recently. He doesn’t look as weighed down, metaphorically speaking. He looks happy. Really, genuinely happy.
“Ugh, good, you’re here!” Stiles says, immediately taking up their usual playfulness without a thought. “Right on time as well, I was worried I was going to have to pick a random date for our wedding to satisfy your aunt and your grandmother. It would have been November 24th, for the record.”
Scott laughs. Melissa raises her eyebrows but smiles at him. It’s very similar to how his own dad would have responded. That gives Stiles questions. He shouldn’t be surprised, in all fairness, if she actually does know as much as he thinks she does. Unless she doesn’t. Then there’s a whole other reason for that look and that smile that he isn’t aware of, but he can’t think what it could be aside from that she knows.
Letting the thought be pushed to the back of his mind for now, he reminds himself to come back to it. He focuses his attention on Scott, only to realize that he’s closer to him now, sidling up to him. Of course, Stiles quickly thinks, keeping himself composed as Scott rests a hand on his arm for a brief moment.
“At least now that’s sorted,” Scott jokes back, ignoring the following roll of Stiles’ eyes. “Sorry for the interrogation. They’re just… happy, I think. But I promise you, I will not leave you alone to plan our future again, okay?”
Stiles considers it. Then he says, “Okay, fine. But if we get asked about children, you’re deciding if and how many, and what their names are, so you better prepare for that.”
Scott gives him this strange smile that’s just begging Stiles’ stomach to grow wings. He leans into his side with a playful nudge, his hand moving to Stiles’ back. “Who says I haven’t already?”
Who knew five words could destroy Stiles’ entire ability to think, talk, and maybe even breathe? It’s like his whole function just shuts down without any warning. But even so, he’s still able to catch the way that Scott says it, and pick up on just how close he’s standing to him.
So, he still knows when to end the slightly breathy, nervous laugh that he manages to push out and when to stop nodding so that he’s able to casually melt into the kiss that Scott’s leaning in for.
It’s the first time they’ve kissed since Christmas morning. The first time that it actually feels like they’re acknowledging that the conversation happened. But it’s pretend, just an act to put on, so there’s no lingering message. No lingering of any kind. It’s quick enough for it to not be awkward but not so quick that it’s questionably chaste. It’s the perfect kind of casual kiss for the public eye.
Even so, when they pull away, they’re met with exaggerated cooing.
“I’m so not letting you live it down when you finally get with that bandmate of yours,” Stiles warns Julie, but she just pulls a face at him and smiles, clearly not bothered by the threat if it means she gets to tease him right now.
Melissa’s quiet, he notices. Scott does as well. Stiles catches the look they give each other. His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything on it. His stomach gives another twist though, that reminder popping back up like a flashing sign on a screen. He mentally crosses it off again.
“You look really nice,” he says instead, nodding at her with a smile that she returns.
They stay there chatting for a little while, and order drinks for all of them — an Irish cream latte for Melissa, a chocolate orange hot chocolate for Scott, a caramel iced latte for Julie, and a Reese's peanut butter milkshake for Stiles. They certainly warm them all up from the chill that keeps breezing in with every open and close of the door. Or in Stiles’ and Julie’s cases, they at least keep them occupied, satiated, and content.
Melissa ends up wandering off after spotting one of her friends. She walks up to their little group and is immediately engrossed in joyous, animated conversation. Stiles vaguely recognizes a couple of them from his many hospital visits, but he can only really name two of the people in the group — Mrs Milligan, the third grade teacher at the local primary school, and the only teacher that was more understanding than impatient when he or Scott acted up or messed about. And Dr Geyers, one of Melissa’s coworkers and Liam’s stepdad. He hasn’t had too many run-ins with him, personally, which is a surprise, but he seems pretty nice.
The three of them end up gravitating towards their own friends, and Scott introduces Julie to most of the pack. She instantly gets on with all of them, even Isaac, to Stiles’ great displeasure.
But she takes the most liking to Lydia, who is absolutely thrilled about Scott having a cousin who’s practically their age. They become fast friends in the space of a ten minute conversation. Not surprising in the slightest.
At eleven-fifteen, they decide to head up onto the roof. Ruby smiles and waves on passing, and both Stiles and Scott try to persuade her to leave her post for just a half hour to join them, but she’s stubborn and shoos them away.
It’s a lot colder on the roof than it was down in the diner, with its thick walls and air conditioning. But even with the breeze nipping at his skin, Stiles has to admit, there’s something nice about being up here. The sky is pitch black, and stars dot the sky, winking down at them. Even the moon is out, a bright crescent slice in the darkness around it.
“Well, we’ve survived a year of all of this,” Scott says, looking out across the town from where they’re leaning against the edge of the wall. He’s smiling, a gleam in his eyes.
“Hey, we still have thirteen minutes left, let’s not jinx it,” Stiles jokes, but he looks at him and smiles back. Scott rolls his eyes and Stiles softly adds, “We really did make it, huh?”
After everything that’s happened in the past year, it’s incredible that they somehow actually managed to survive it all. But they’re all still here. Still together, and with even more of them, in fact. They’re stronger than they were then.
Scott nods, and he sounds just as disbelieving yet so proud of them all as he says, “Yeah, we did.” Then his smile slips a little, and a crease forms between his eyebrows. He doesn’t say anything, but Stiles knows that look well enough for him not to need to.
“Are you still worried about Derek?” he asks quietly, and Scott nods again. Stiles nudges him with his elbow, trying to reassure him. “Hey, I’m sure he’s probably just hiding out until tomorrow. He probably just wasn’t too keen on celebrating, you know? But if it’ll make you feel better, we could swing by his loft after here?”
“Won’t he mind us turning up after midnight?” Scott questions, but it’s obvious that he’s going to agree anyway.
Stiles shrugs. “Well, then maybe he should answer someone’s messages, and we wouldn’t have to turn up after midnight just to make sure he hasn’t dropped off the face of the planet.”
Scott chuckles, but the concern’s still there. It eases at least enough for him to relax with the knowledge that they’re checking in on Derek soon, though.
“So,” he starts, and looks back over at Stiles. The look on his face has changed — warier now than before, a little bit nervous. “You’ve been talking to my abuela and Rose?”
"Technically speaking, they were talking," Stiles corrects. "I just kinda stood there and tried not to give us away. I think I did okay.”
Scott sighs and shakes his head. “I’m sorry about all of this.”
Stiles frowns, thrown off by the sudden apology. “What?”
“The plan,” Scott elaborates. “I’m sorry that it went on like this. It was only meant to be for one night, that was the agreement, and then it spiralled, and I just — you didn’t ask to be dragged into all of this, as well-meaning as my abuela, and Tía Rose and Julie are.”
“Are you forgetting the part where this whole thing was my idea in the first place?” Stiles asks, confused. When Scott goes to open his mouth, Stiles quickly presses on, “And — you didn’t drag me into anything. I was only kidding, I really don’t mind joking around with your gran and your aunt, you know that.”
The look that Scott gives him is telling him that he’s not convinced. Stiles can’t figure out where this is all coming from. Unless it’s not about dragging Stiles into it. Maybe Scott’s more sorry that he went along with it in the first place.
He realizes that it’s finally time. There’s only so long that he was going to be able to delay the conversation, and really, now is the perfect time to get it all out in open, entering the “new year” with no secrets and no regret on either side.
“Okay,” Stiles mutters, more to himself, but he knows that Scott can hear him. He turns to face him. “I think we need to talk. Which, coming from me, is surprising, I know, and I can assure you that I’d rather not be saying any of this, but I also know that we need to.”
“That’s not a terrifying way to word that at all,” Scott says, a little joking, but there’s a glint of anxiety in his eyes, clearly trying to steel himself.
“Christmas morning,” Stiles starts, and already the regret is twisting up his insides. Why did he think that he could be the one to do this? “It’s just that we — you know, we haven’t exactly… talked about it. And it just feels like we should."
To his relief — and regret, which is quickly gnawing through his stomach like a piranha — Scott nods.
“I know,” he agrees. “I was planning to talk to you about it even before that, I just… I guess I backed out.”
He chuckles softly to himself with another shake of his head, although Stiles is failing to find the humour in what is probably about to be the ultimate rejection.
“I kept telling myself that it wouldn’t matter how you reacted because we’d still be friends, so there was nothing to be scared of. Yet you’re the one who brought it up while I wasn’t even sure how to start.”
“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve been a nervous wreck for the last few days,” Stiles tells him truthfully. “But there really is nothing to be afraid of, Scotty, I promise. Of course we’re still going to be friends — best friends. You are not lowering my rank.”
The corner of Scott’s mouth twitches up and he rolls his eyes.
“I should probably start by saying that maybe it wasn’t my smartest idea to suggest the whole fake relationship thing,” Stiles admits.
Shrugging, Scott says, “You weren’t to know, though. Neither of us could have known. Besides,” he smiles at him, “I don’t regret it. I really enjoyed being your fake boyfriend. I guess that’s the problem, though.”
Stiles nods, sighing, even with a tiny twitch of a smile. “Yeah, it is. It was fake. Honestly, I just… I’m really sorry about Christmas morning.”
Scott’s eyebrows furrow. “Why are you sorry? If anyone, it should be me — and I am. I shouldn’t have kissed you, or even said any of that. I just wanted to be honest, but none of it really came out right, and then we never really picked it back up, so I couldn’t explain.”
“It’s okay, though, because I understood what you were trying to say,” Stiles says. “And, I really didn’t mind the kiss at all. Trust me.”
Laughing, Scott ducks his head, looking down at the street below them. Stiles stares at the lit-up pavement, his eyes moving from one person to another, watching them get ready to go back into the diner for the countdown, or even preparing to celebrate right there.
His chest has less of an ache to it, he realizes. It doesn’t feel like he’s got an anchor sitting in the pit of his stomach, pulling his lungs down with it. Who knew that the truth could actually feel better? It weirdly hurts way less than he was expecting it to.
“You know, I think this may just have been the nicest rejection I’ve ever had,” he jokes and nudges Scott with his elbow. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you. I don’t know why I was so afraid to tell you that I had feelings for you, I mean, it’s not like you were going to take it badly.”
“Yeah, I know, I—” Scott stops, his grin faltering. He turns his head sharply to look at Stiles in confusion. “Wait, what? You have feelings for me?”
“Uh… yeah?” Stiles’ heart jumps. “Was that… that’s what we were talking about? Wasn’t it?”
Scott shakes his head, looking even more confused. “I thought we were talking about how I have feelings for you…”
The panic that had quickly been escalating inside of Stiles tumbles right back down into the pit of his stomach. In what world was that even an option for conversation? Because Stiles can’t recall it being this one!
“What? No, no, no,” Stiles waves his hands, laughing in spite of himself, “you’re rejecting me! That’s what this is! A very gentle let down, where you’re telling me that our whole fake relationship was just pretend for you. That’s what you said!”
Scott’s eyebrows scrunch together and he straightens up, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t! You were saying that!”
“Wha—why would I be saying that? I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve! The only thing that I was faking was when it was just you and me and we weren’t pretending! And, also when your grandmother asked me if we like the idea of a church wedding and I said definitely — I do not want to get married in a church, and I refuse to step foot inside of one.”
He’s aware of his own rambling as he always tends to be. It does not mean he has any actual control over it, though. And Scott’s not being much help in shutting him up as Stiles seems to have rendered him speechless to a point of just staring at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
Fortunately for both of them, he quickly snaps out of it before Stiles can be allowed to go too far.
“Since… since we were twelve?” Scott says quietly.
Stiles falters a little under the realization that he let that slip in the moment. His skin flushes and he’s sure turns a delightful shade of red as well but he ignores it.
“Uh… yeah.” He laughs again, a nervous twinge to it, and shrugs. “It’s probably about the only secret I’ve ever successfully kept from you. Quite proud of myself for that, actually.”
“I…” Scott blows out a breath with another shake of his head. There’s a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “Wow. Okay. That’s a lot longer than I was expecting, especially considering I was also assuming that this was going to be a rejection. Just—just so we’re clear, that’s definitely not what’s happening—?”
“Well, I’m not rejecting you,” Stiles says. The thought alone is laughable, if he’s honest.
“And I’m not rejecting you, either,” Scott adds, his eyebrows raising as he makes sure Stiles believes him and doesn’t think it’s still some form of a gentle let down. “I honestly don’t know how long I’ve been in love with you, it just kinda hit me when we started this, but I don’t want you to think that that means it’s not real and I’m just confused by it all, because—I can promise you, one-hundred percent, I’m not confused.”
Stiles is smiling. He can’t help it. Scott’s smiling too, and he’s looking at him with those big soft eyes. Everything is quiet around them, like they’re in a soundproof bubble away from everyone else. The voices have faded into the quiet murmur of a TV playing away through the darkness of Stiles’ bedroom. He knows what comes next.
“So that’s what you were trying to tell me,” Stiles says, the pieces finally slotting into place.
Nodding, Scott takes a tiny step forward. Stiles’ heart leaps into his throat. He swallows it back down.
“Yeah, but then we never brought it back up again, so I thought that maybe it was better to just let it go in case that’s why we weren’t talking about it.” Scott shrugs. “I thought you didn’t want to.”
“I didn’t! Because I thought that you didn’t, and I also thought that if we did, then I’d be forcing you to tell me that you don’t feel the same about me. But, evidently, I was way off on that.”
Scott laughs and nods, saying, “Way, way off. But, so was I, so I can’t really judge.”
“So, the conclusion we’re coming to is that neither of us is rejecting the other, we both have very strong romantic feelings for each other, and we’re both complete and utter idiots?”
With a thoughtful look, Scott says, “All true, but you left one thing out.”
Confused, Stiles tries to go back through his list and figure out what he could possibly be missing. As far as he’s aware, there’s nothing else, but Scott seems pretty confident that there is, so he tries.
Scott pulls out his phone, apparently deciding to give him a hand. “It’s a minute from midnight and we’re still technically dating.”
Stiles has caught up. His face aches from smiling but he couldn’t care less.
The countdown starts around them. They’re both grinning, their hearts thumping against their ribs. They join in, catching sight of their friends and family, some shouting out each number with more and more enthusiasm, some already holding up their glasses of whatever to toast each other.
A chorus of, “Happy New Year!” erupts across the roof, and from down below in the diner and on the street. There’s only a split second of hesitation on both their parts before they’re leaning in and kissing along with a dozen other people.
For the first time, neither of them are pretending.
When they pull apart, Scott’s smiling while all Stiles can do is stand there, lips slightly parted like a dumbfounded puppy. He quickly clears his throat and swallows, to Scott’s great amusement.
“So,” Stiles says softly, or as soft as he can with his voice perhaps an octave higher, “I guess there’s no point in faking a breakup now, huh?”
“No breakup, and no more faking anything,” Scott says. “Does that sound… good?”
“Yeah, absolutely perfect,” Stiles agrees instantly.
They both laugh. Stiles’ skin prickles when Scott rests a hand on his arm. It’s so strange how everything with Scott feels new and yet completely familiar and comfortable at the same time. It’s a nice strange.
Stiles goes to speak, but the thought goes out of his mind the next second when an arm is thrown around his shoulders, and loud cheering tries to pierce his eardrums. Half of the pack have appeared around them, all talking like they’re having the time of their lives.
He tries to glare at Erica but she just grins at him, her arm still comfortably around his shoulders, and it’s hard to be mad when they all look so happy — and when he feels so happy.
He shares a look with Scott, then they’re joining in with the chatter and cheering. They allow themselves to be pulled along the roof and back down into the diner. Ruby is greeted with another chorus of “Happy New Year!” and she is delighted by it.
Scott and Stiles only hang around for another half hour, before finally departing to go over to Derek’s like agreed. Maybe it’s just idiotic optimism, but something about this year already feels like it’s going to be better than the last.