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It’s impossible to dream about a face you’ve never seen before. Dreams are an act of the subconscious mind made up of memories and emotions and every single thing you see in a dream, from people to places to objects, you’ve seen at some point in the waking world.
The exception to this rule of course is your soul mate. Sometime in the week or so before you come face to face with your soul mate for the first time you’ll start to see them in your dreams. Somehow fate works in collaboration with your subconscious to show you who you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with.
Stiles is calling bullshit. He just doesn’t believe it. There is no way some cosmic energy is playing matchmaker. Especially when there are way more important things said cosmic energy should be doing, like saving innocent people from car accidents and making sure Harris is sick the day he planned on giving a pop quiz, just for example.
Scott used to agree with Stiles… Until he started dreaming about brunette hair and bright eyes and dimples. Six days later the new girl turned around to ask for a pencil and bam, soul mates. As much as Stiles wants to remind Scott of all the reasons dreams can’t really predict soul mates, his best friend looks so happy that he just rolls his eyes and shuts his mouth at the dopey smile Scott is now sporting 24/7.
A month later Stiles is sitting in his room spinning in his desk chair, mind full of the statistics on dream mates, as some of the old fashioned people call them, when his dad steps into his doorway.
“Whatcha up to, kid,” the sheriff questions with a smile.
“Just some research. Do you work tonight?”
“Nope, I’m off,” his dad replies, moving closer to the computer, while Stiles tries to subtly close the tab. By the look his dad gives him, he wasn’t subtle enough, ‘oh well, hopefully he’ll just assume I was watching porn,’ Stiles thinks to himself.
Stiles tries not to talk about dreams or soul mates with his dad. He knows the sheriff believes the dreams guided him to Stiles’ mom and that it pains him that Stiles disregards their value, so they mutually avoid the topic. Thankfully the sheriff doesn’t question the now blank computer screen and doesn’t get the sad look on his face that Stiles hates causing.
“Do you want to go to that Italian restaurant for dinner? We could invite Scott and Melissa,” his dad changes the subject with a hopeful smile.
“I don’t think that Scott would join us, he’s probably too busy with Allison.” Stiles tries to hide his bitterness with a goofy grin, but judging by the look on his dads face he’s sure it came out more as a grimace. “But we can go, and we can still invite Mrs. McCall.” Stiles can tell his dad wants to say something, probably about Scott, but he seems to change his mind, instead mumbling about calling Melissa to see if she’s available. “I’m fairly certain she’ll be available for a date with the sheriff,” Stiles teases.
“I… She… It’s not, I mean, you would be there so it wouldn’t be…” Stiles laughs at his dad’s sputtering response and blushing face.
“I’m just kidding pops. Well not really. If you asked her on a date I’m sure she’d say yes. And it’s not like either of you need to worry about your kids disapproving or not getting along. You’ve both been lonely for a long time, and we just want to see you happy.” The sheriff looks about a second away from crying when he says,
“Have I told you you’re the best son a guy could ever ask for?”
“You’ve mentioned it before, but not nearly as often as you should,” Stiles replies casually, pleased at the laugh it startles out of his dad as he walks out of the room, cell phone in hand.
Stiles and the sheriff do meet Mrs. McCall for dinner at Gino’s, and they have a good time, despite Scott’s absence. Melissa tries to apologize for his absence but Stiles waves her off, attempting an indifferent expression. He’s not sure if he pulls it off, but it doesn’t matter because then the waiter appears, taking their drink orders and rambling about the evening’s specials. The trio enjoys dinner and the sheriff insists on paying the bill. When he suggests ice cream for dessert Stiles immediately counters with froyo, which he knows Melissa prefers, and he studiously ignores the way his dad flirts with his best friend’s mom while they playfully argue over toppings.
Stiles’ dad smiles the whole way home, and he tries to focus on how happy he is that his dad is happy, ignoring the slight sting that he feels on his mom’s behalf. He knows that she would want his dad to be happy, that she wouldn’t begrudge him or Melissa any life they might make together, but he can’t help the bitterness that seeps in about how unfair it is that she’s not here. Truth be told, it’s why he hates the dreams. He doesn’t believe that fate would give you your soul mate only to take them away from you eight short years later. Still, when his dad asks him if he had a good night as they walk into the house, he puts as much cheer as he can in his voice when he answers with a yes and the smile he flashes is genuine.
Stiles, warm in his bed, drifts off to sleep with thoughts about how the dreams mean nothing, and how it’s entirely possible to be happy with someone, soul mate or not, like he thinks his dad and Melissa soon will be. Of course, that’s the night he has his first dream.
The face is older, definitely not someone he recognizes from school, but Stiles’ can’t help but feel like he knows the man before him already. And he is undoubtedly a man, not a seventeen-year-old boy like Stiles. He absently notes the facial hair and strong jaw line but he can’t look away from the man’s eyes. They’re hazel, but a more vivid hazel than Stiles has ever seen. They seem to shift back and forth from brown to green constantly and Stiles steps even closer, thoroughly placing himself in the man’s personal space. Stiles carefully catalogues every different shade, committing them to memory. He lifts his hand to gently turn the man’s face, hoping his eyes will catch the light and he can see where the brown is hazelnut and where it’s chocolate, but before he touches what he is certain will be perfectly warm flesh, the man’s eyes turn an incredibly gorgeous shade of blue, and the next thing Stiles knows, his alarm is blaring and he’s awake in his bed.
“What the fuck,” he asks himself as he clambers out of his room and toward the bathroom. He washes up in the shower before deciding he has enough time to take care of Little Stiles. Humming some song he heard on the radio when his alarm went off, he brings himself off to vivid memories of the absolutely perfect person he dreamed about.
Stiles goes about his morning routine, still humming as he basks in the post-orgasmic bliss that is lasting way longer than it usually does, but whatever. He gets downstairs, dressed and with his backpack on his shoulder, a full twelve minutes earlier than usual, snags a granola bar from the cabinet, and gives his dad a one-armed hug before walking out to his jeep. Stiles tosses an arm around Scott’s shoulder when he finds him standing alone at the top of the stairs, inhaler clutched firmly in his hand.
“Scotty! Bro! Today feels like such a good day, doesn’t it? How’s it goin’ for you,” Stiles asks with a broad smile.
“Uh, good,” Scott looks at Stiles, who has spent every morning of the past eleven years of schooling bemoaning the fact that he is awake before 8 a.m., with a look of utter confusion.
“Good is good,” Stiles exclaims, holding the door open for Scott, smile still firmly in place. Scott, never one to look a gift horse in the face, shrugs off Stiles’ weird morning energy and grins back.
“Good is definitely good. So my mom said she went to dinner with you and your dad last night. She said you all had a really good time. Sorry I couldn’t make it.”
“No worries man, you were with Allie, I get it. I mean, who can blame you for wanting to spend time with your super nice soul mate who is an actual Disney princess.” Scott smiles, glad that Stiles understands.
“Yeah, she’s totally awesome. We-wait. No. Stiles you don’t believe in soul mates.” For the first time all morning Stiles stops smiling and Scott instantly regrets saying anything.
“Dude. What the fuck is happening to me? I am never this happy in the morning, and why the hell am I suddenly cool with soul mates?” Stiles now looks like he’s going freak out and Scott is filled with even more regret. He’s trying to come up with something to say when a voice appears right behind him, causing both he and Stiles to jump.
“You started Dreaming last night, didn’t you, Stiles,” Lydia Martin asks like she already knows the answer. Scott thinks she’s kind of scary, but she’s really smart like Stiles and Allison says she’s sweet so he thinks she must not be terrible.
“Yeah, Lydia, I dream every night.” Stiles has found that a weird side affect of Allison and Scott being soul mates and Allison and Lydia being best friends is that Scott, and by association, Stiles, have become part of the popular crowd. The plus side of this is that he now gets to have conversations with Lydia. The down side of this is that he now gets to have conversations with Lydia. After about two conversations his ten-year crush was crushed, and now he simultaneously welcomes and dreads all points of interaction with her.
“Not regular dreaming, capital-D Dreaming. As in the prophetic dreams about your soul mate so that you’ll recognize him when you see him.” Lydia is rolling her eyes and looking at Stiles like he’s an idiot and he mentally adds this to the list of bad conversations with Lydia. He will never understand how someone so driven by science can possibly believe in the dreams, but he’s guessing it’s a side effect of describing Jackson Whittmore in perfect detail to a sketch artist after dreaming about him once when she was five. On the first day of kindergarten a week later, Lydia brought the framed sketch for show and tell, and Jackson let out a squeak before walking to join her at the front of the classroom, a beautiful sketch of Lydia clutched in his hands. Stiles sighed and shook his head at the memory.
“First, why did you say him? My soul mate could’ve been a girl. And second, I didn’t have a capital-D Dream, I had a regular dream, it was just a little more detailed than usual.”
“You’re right, your soul mate could’ve been a girl, but he’s not. Stiles you’ve read more accounts and testimonials from people who’ve had soul mate dreams than anyone else. You know exactly how they describe the day after the first dream. They feel kind of high, really happy and positive; I believe the expression ‘rose-colored glasses’ is applicable. Is that or is that not how you’ve felt since you woke up?”
“Kind of, but it doesn’t mean anything. I’m just in a good mood today, okay!” Lydia opens her mouth to reply, but the bell rings and Stiles shrugs and waves at Scott before rushing down the hall and collapsing into his desk in AP Physics, glad to have escaped the Lydia Martin interrogation… Of course a minute later Lydia waltzes into the classroom and takes her seat behind him, and how could Stiles have forgotten that they’re in AP Physics together. Lydia directs a well-aimed kick at his ankle and when he grunts in pain she scoffs at him. When he looks over his shoulder to glare he finds her filing her nails, a saccharine smile on her face.
Stiles manages to stumble his way through school, alternating between feeling unbelievable happiness and absolute confusion at his own emotions. Eventually he makes it home and does his homework at the kitchen table before making a salad with grilled chicken for dinner. After eating, the sheriff heads out for a graveyard shift on patrol with some rookie named Hale and Stiles goes upstairs to take a quick shower before bed.
He’s dreaming again. He’s standing in front of the man from the night before, and they’re just staring at each other. Stiles blushes before shooting him a shy smile and the man’s face lights up, mouth stretching into a happy grin. Stiles’ own smile grows and he cant look away because this guy has the cutest bunny teeth he’s ever seen and his smile is so bright it’s like the sun. Stiles isn’t sure how long they stand there smiling at each other but he blinks and when his eyes open again he’s staring at his ceiling, trying to decide if he was just imagining the way his man’s canines elongated into sharp fangs before he woke up. He decides that they did, and therefore he must not be capital-D Dreaming, because normal people don’t have eyes that flash blue or teeth that elongate and sharpen.
Stiles gets ready, goes to school, and the day is much the same as the one before. Scott and Lydia question him about his dreams, joined by Allison who hadn’t been there the day before because she was at an archery tournament in Palo Alto. Stiles avoids the questions as much as possible, tries to pay attention in class, and goes home. Stiles decides he’s way too tired to cook so he picks up a large veggie pizza on his way home. When he gets there his dad’s cruiser is in the driveway and a sleek black camaro is parked on the curb.
“Dad, home!” Stiles heads toward the kitchen, where he thinks he can hear his dad talking. When he enters there’s his dad and someone with his back to Stiles sitting at the kitchen table. Stiles sets the pizza on the stove before turning to see who his dad is talking to.
“Son this is our new deputy, Derek Hale. His family used to live here and they’ve just moved back. Yesterday was actually the first time Derek has been in Beacon Hills since he was young and he still wanted to work a graveyard shift, talk about dedication, huh?”
Stiles looks from his dad to Derek Hale, and his breath catches in his throat when he and Derek make eye contact. Stiles recognizes the expressive eyebrows and hazel eyes, and by the way Derek is staring at him in wonder he recognizes some of Stiles features as well.
“You,” Stiles exclaims, and while he’s aiming for angry, his tone comes out more awed than anything, causing Derek’s lips to twitch into that absolutely beautiful smile that Stiles would recognize anywhere. “No, you’re not even real! You’re just some vampire or werewolf or whatever that I probably saw in a movie or something. You’re not my… Just no,” he yells before stomping up the stairs, trying to get the shattered expression on Derek’s face out of his mind.
Fifteen minutes later he hears the front door shut, followed by the slam of a car door that makes him wince. Then his dad is opening his door and coming to sit next to him on the bed. He opens his mouth to talk, but his dad holds up a hand to silence him.
“Genim Stilinski, I understand that you have a hard time believing in the dreams or soul mates, but the way you behaved down there was unacceptable. You’ve obviously been Dreaming, and that’s an exciting thing, and I’m hurt that you didn’t want to share that with me, but that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that Derek has spent the last few weeks Dreaming about you, and the way that you treated him and the things you said to him really hurt. I- I don’t know why you’re so resistant to the idea…” Stiles was feeling guilt and sadness and anger, and finally he couldn’t continue to stay silent.
“You don’t understand why I’m resistant to the idea?! I’m resistant because soul mates can’t be real. I’m resistant because there is no way that the universe can have make these people destined to match us perfectly, and then lead us to each other, and then just, just take them away! It’s cruel and I won’t have any part of it!” Stiles was surprised to find his vision blurry and his cheeks damp with tears.
“Oh, Genim, is that why? Because of what happened to your mom?” Stiles’ dad was crying too and Stiles felt even more tears fall out of guilt. “Son, what happened to your mom was an accident. It wasn’t god or fate or anyone trying to hurt us, it was just something that happened.”
“Dad, I can’t. What if I have him and then I lose him. I just can’t do it. I’m not as strong as you.” Stiles’ anger had disappeared and he was left with the aching emptiness in his heart where his mom should be, but it somehow felt even bigger than before.
“It just about killed me to lose your mom, but Stiles, I would never trade one second of the time I had with her for anything. As much as it hurts that she isn’t here anymore, it was all worth it for the eight years we had, and I am even more thankful that our time together gave us you.” Stiles dropped back onto the bed and cried into his dad’s shoulder.
After about ten minutes, Stiles wiped his eyes and sat up, facing his dad. He cleared his throat before he started speaking.
“Dad, I have to tell you something. For the past few days I’ve been dreaming about a face I’d never seen before. I’m pretty sure he’s my soul mate. When I came home tonight I recognized him as your deputy Derek Hale, and I messed everything up and now I don’t know what to do.”
“Well son, for someone so smart you sure can be stupid, but you’re young and I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to get him back. I have been wondering though, why did you call him a vampire or werewolf or whatever?” Before Stiles could answer, Derek was stepping out of the hallway and into the room.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t have to get me back if I never left,” he said with a wry grin. “And about that other question, uhm, my alpha is gonna kill me for this, but just don’t freak out,” and then Derek was grinning at them with fangs, electric blue eyes looking slightly afraid as he waved at them with a clawed hand.
“Awesome,” Stiles breathed as he rushed to Derek’s side while the sheriff rubbed his eyes. “My boyfriend is totally a werewolf!”
“The pc term is actually lycanthrope,” Derek scolded before his expression morphed into a teasing smile. Stiles eyes widened as he grinned. He moved to playfully hit Derek’s shoulder but the werewolf caught his hand and pulled him against his chest.
“Hi,” Stiles whispered before leaning up to capture Derek’s lips in a gentle kiss.
“Hi,” Derek whispered back when the kiss broke.
“Hello to both of you. Happy as I am that this got worked out quickly and I didn’t have to watch my son and my deputy mope for weeks, Stiles is still underage, I am still the sheriff, and I have a lot of questions that need to be answered. NOW!” The Sheriff had a stern look on his face but both Stiles and Derek could see the smile he was trying to hide.
“No problem, Sheriff,” Derek said, taking a step away from Stiles but keeping a firm grip where their fingers were intertwined.
“Yeah, don’t worry dad,” Stiles looked at where his fingers were tangled with Derek’s before giving his soul mate a soft smile. “We’ve got time.”