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Everything was ready.
Food? Check.
Candy in a bowl outside their house for trick-or-treaters? Check.
Long table? Check.
Woodpile? Check.
Stiles had been in their kitchen all day, cooking a meal fit for wolves, or more specifically, for Hales. He’d gotten Derek to tell him his family’s favorite foods, and he’d made every one of them. There was venison and steak, chicken, spaghetti with Talia’s homemade meat sauce, various casseroles, corn on the cob, and several different cookies and pies for dessert.
And there were also a few Polish dishes as well. Things that he remembered his mother making him as a child, and learning to cook them himself with her help.
It was nearly sunset now. The table had been carried in and set up in the remnants of the old Hale house, and all the food laid upon it, ready to be feasted upon.
Derek came up behind Stiles and surveyed all of his hard work. “You did good,” he murmured, kissing Stiles’ cheek.
Stiles smiled. “I hope they like it.”
“They will.” Derek looked out the broken window towards where the woodpile sat. “You really sure about the bonfire?”
Stiles reached up and touched Derek’s cheek. “I’m sure. It’s part of the ceremony. I set up the woodpile on the other side of the clearing from the house. I promise I won’t let anything bad happen.”
The couple stood there watching as the sun sank below the horizon. Stiles rubbed his hands together. “It’s Samhain now, and the dead can begin crossing into our world. We can start now,” he said, taking one of the steak platters and a blueberry pie.
Derek stayed on the dilapidated porch while Stiles strode over to the woodpile and set the two dishes on top of it.. He closed his eyes and concentrated on lighting the wood on fire. When he could hear the gentle crackles of the fire, he cast an extra spell around it to keep it contained in its space. He opened his eyes and the clearing was lit up by the warm glow cast by the small bonfire.
He returned to Derek’s side. Most people would think that Derek looked calm, but Stiles could see the tenseness in his shoulders, the wariness in his eyes, and the slight trembling of his body. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Stile murmured, wrapping his arms around Derek. “It’s going to stay right there. I made sure of it.”
The tension in Derek’s body released as he exhaled in relief. “I’m sorry, Stiles.”
Stiles shook his head. “Don’t be.” He looked back at the bonfire. “Alright, we’ve given a gift to the spirits. Now it’s time to welcome our families and eat.”
They went back inside and sat at the long table. Stiles had made special plates of food for Derek and himself, separate from the food that was for the Hales and his mother. They ate quietly, though they both looked around often, wondering if their families’ spirits had come and were joining them.
**********
Stiles sat outside watching the bonfire burn lower and lower and tried not to fall asleep. He had promised Derek that he would take care of the fire while Derek got some rest inside the old house.
Around four in the morning, it was getting harder and harder for Stiles to keep his eyes open. He closed his eyes for a few minutes, then blearily opened them again. This went on for a while before Stiles finally dozed off.
“I love you, Stiles. I’m so proud of you.”
A gentle caress of his shoulder caused him to suddenly jerk awake with a gasp. He looked around wildly. The bonfire was nearly out and no one was around. “Mom,” he whispered. “Love you, too, Mom.”
With a smile on his face, he stayed awake until the flames went out.
**********
“Stiles.”
Stiles jerked awake again. This time, Derek was standing over him, breathing heavily and looking completely shocked. “What is it, Der?” he asked.
“Come, look,” Derek beckoned, and Stiles followed him inside to the table.
The plates were all there on the table, but most of the food was gone. “They ate it,” Derek said in awe, tears falling down his cheeks. “And I thought I heard them… Mom, Laura…”
Stiles held him tightly, so glad that he’d decided to hold that ceremony.