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It's November the first time Stiles shaves his head. His mom's been in the hospital for two weeks now. Stiles is in the library everyday looking up everything he can about cancer and treatments till his dad picks him up and Mrs. Hudson, the librarian, lets out a huge sigh. She loves him, he's sure it's why she always sighs.
It's the day before his mom's birthday and he's at the library, giving Mrs. Hudson a headache with his questions. She's got that pinched look on her face that, had he been paying attention, meant that she was about to scold him. His dad comes to pick him up with a plate of cookies for Mrs. Hudson in his hand.
When he's buckled in the back seat of his Dad's cruiser, his dad turns around and smiles at him. "Can we shave our heads?" Stiles asks suddenly, and his Dad hesitates.
"Uh..."
"Well, I was asking Mrs. Hudson about the radiation treatment and chemotherapy thing."
"Yeah?"
"And she said that they make people bald, and the last time we went to see mom she was wearing that puffy hat to hide her baldness. So maybe if we all were bald together, she might get a laugh out of it." He fiddles his thumbs together.
"You know, your mom would love that."
"Can we have fake mustaches, too?" Stiles asks, enthusiastically. He smiles brilliantly at his father when they stop at the party store to pick up some party hats, mustaches and a 'dapper giraffe'. The giraffe with the top hat makes Stiles laugh because the giraffe is so tall, why would it need a top hat?
When they get home, Stiles tugs his dad to the bathroom and hands him the electric razor. "Me first!"
Stiles watches in fascination as the hair falls into the sink in chunks, and when his dad is done shaving his head, he can't help but run his hand over his head again and again. It feels like the porcupine that his homeroom teacher keeps in class.
His dad sends him off to shower as he tackles his own hair, and Stiles watches tiny pieces of hair float in the excessive shampoo foam as it makes its way to the drain. He pulls on his Batman pajamas, he is totally going to be Batman when he grows up, and heads to the kitchen. His dad's already made his mac and cheese and put it in his Iron Man bowl, so Stiles starts eating as his dad gathers his own food and joins him.
He wakes up before his dad does. He wishes his mom was home because it's her birthday, and he and his dad usually make his mom breakfast in bed with waffles with strawberries, whipped cream and a ton of pancake syrup, bacon and her favorite homemade caramel frappuccino with extra caramel and a dash of hot cocoa powder and cinnamon. Just thinking about it makes him sad, so he pushes open the door to his parents’ room and cuddles into his father's warmth, waiting for him to wake up.
He taps his foot impatiently when his dad stops at the flower shop, and grumbles when they get caught in traffic on the highway. When they reach the hospital, he pushes open the car door even before his dad is completely parked. He scampers off, a cloud of balloons trailing behind him, the route as familiar as the back of his hands. His dad yells after him, but he can't wait to see his mom, so he doesn't stop.
The nurse exiting the room almost trips over him, and he apologizes as he screeches to a halt at the foot of his mom's bed. She's looking at him with a bewildered expression on her face before she cracks up, her laughter like the comforting sound of a wind chime.
"What happened to your hair?" she snorts, and Stiles grins at her mischievously.
"Happy Birthday, Alice!" He turns to look at his dad as his mom breaks into another fit of laughter.
"It was Stiles' idea. He thought you'd like that we were all matching." His dad walks to the side of the bed and kisses her.
"I do. I love it. Help me take off my cap!" Stiles climbs up onto the bed as his dad pulls off the cap.
"I got this for you." He sticks out both his hands, one holding the balloons and the other the dapper giraffe, and he smiles happily when his mother giggles at the giraffe like he did, eyes twinkling brightly despite the dark circles and tiredness.
The nurse takes a picture with his dad's camera after his dad tucks the red carnation behind his mom's ear.
She dies a week later. And every year, on the anniversary of her death, Stiles shaves his head.
*
The first time Stiles breaks his tradition, it is January.
They've had a shit year, and Stiles is just grateful that they haven't died by the time Christmas rolls around. He's eighteen and for the first time in his life he has more than three people he cares about. Much to his chagrin, Derek, Isaac, Boyd, Erica and even Jackson (will wonders ever cease?) have wormed their way into his heart.
He knows what he’s signed up for when he strong-arms, or rather puppy-dog-eyes, Derek into a pre-Christmas celebration. But he is still wholly unprepared for just how much work it is. He's been cooking constantly for the last two days, and he adamantly refuses to get store-bought food, so he cooks everything from scratch. He's pretty sure his dad thinks he's crazy when Stiles crosses the street to check if Mrs. Keller will let him use the freezer in her garage.
Scott shows up around midnight the night before the dinner with a gift. They lay on the roof for half an hour talking about the Argents before Scott goes home. When Stiles climbs inside, he remembers he forgot to thank Scott for the gift.
It's a scarf. It looks old, but it is the softest scarf he's ever seen, even if it does have birds embroidered on the ends. He wonders where Scott found it.
The dinner is on the 23rd because Stiles figures everyone, except perhaps Derek, will want to spend time with their families over the actual holiday. Derek had been invited to celebrate at Casa de Stilinski; Stiles somehow doubts he'll show up.
Erica and Boyd are the first to arrive. They laugh at him when he says they have to kiss because they're under the mistletoe, but they kiss anyway.
His dad answers the door when Lydia, Jackson, Scott and Isaac arrive at the same time, and Stiles quietly bemoans his missed opportunity to kiss Lydia under the mistletoe, which puts another damper in his 15-year plan. When Scott comes to the kitchen to steal food, Stiles looks at him expectantly, but Scott fails to notice the scarf around Stiles' neck.
When Derek arrives, Stiles accidently slams the door open and it startles both of them. Derek's eyes dart down to the scarf and then up to his face, an unfamiliar warmth in his gaze that sends a shiver up Stiles' spine. He steps backwards to allow Derek in when Erica yells "Kiss!" and there's a chorus of hoots and wolf-whistles. Stiles can feel the heat of his blush curl up his neck, so he shakes his head violently at the pack and waves them off, Derek rocking on his heels behind Stiles, hopefully unable to sense Stiles’ discomfort.
Dinner is a relatively uneventful affair, but once they're settled around the electric fire in the living room, waiting for Stiles' famous pumpkin and ginger cheesecake, and caramel apple pie a la mode, the crowd gets a little rambunctious. Derek is hanging back, watching his pack happy and content, a small smile playing on his lips, while Stiles watches him as he walks around them, fingers dancing along mundane things like the fairy lights and the stockings, and the photos on the mantle. He doesn’t even realize he’s moving, till he’s tugging the frame out of Derek’s hands, a frown on his face.
“Stiles?” Derek asks, voice unusually shaky.
“Sorry. Sorry.” He pulls his hands away quickly when he realizes what he’s done, and wipes them on his pants. Why are they so sweaty?
“Is that-?”
“My mom. It was her birthday the week before she died.” Stiles chokes on his words. “It’s why my dad and I shaved our heads -- to make her smile. It’s why I shave my head every year -- because I miss her so much, y’know? I feel like if I shave my head, maybe it’ll help me feel a little closer to her.”
“Oh.” Derek looks surprised, and Stiles stumbles over an apology for oversharing before he turns around to ask if anyone wants seconds. If the others notice Stiles’ exaggerated smile, they don’t say anything, and there is a chorus of agreement over more dessert.
Allison comes in just as Stiles scoops ice-cream out into the bowls with pie in them. She snags a bowl, and initiates a loud and enthusiastic game of ‘Charades’. On their second round of 'Guess the Word!', Derek steps out to make a phone-call.
Stiles is jittery from the sugar and overheated from the crowded room with hot-blooded werewolves by the time he steps outside, the living room still loud with chatter and music even though it is almost midnight. He walks to the edge of the porch and sighs as he leans over the railing. He sees Derek prop himself up on his arms and turn around where he's laid out in the backyard, so Stiles walks over and flops down beside him.
"Dude! It is so pretty here! How have I not known that I can see the stars from my backyard?"
"Thank you for this." Derek's voice is quiet and sincere, propped up on his elbow and looking down at Stiles, who just turns his head to look at Derek, surprised.
"Uh."
"I don't think I realized how much we needed this; I can feel how happy they all are. But I didn't realize how happy I'd be." Derek holds his gaze steadily, and Stiles can feel that new, but still somehow familiar warmth in his belly. He can't help but jerk when Derek's hand comes over to grab one end of the scarf. "I didn't think you'd wear it. Laura loved this scarf so much." Still rubbing the scarf between his thumb and forefinger. Derek’s eyes grow soft around the corners, and the unfamiliar feeling from before returns. He lets out a shocked gasp when he feels Derek’s lips flutter against his for just a second before Derek flops back into the grass. If he notices the surprise on Stiles' face, he doesn't say anything and for that, Stiles is grateful. He closes his eyes and holds his breath for a second, fingers twitching to pinch himself to see if it’s a dream, before he opens his eyes to stare at the stars in silence.
*
Derek avoids him after that. Stiles puts up with it until just past the new year, and then decides he’s had enough. He’s surprised at the anger he feel at getting the cold-shoulder, but then he realizes what day it is. He drives to the Hale house, now half rebuilt, one section of the house renovated first so that Derek and Isaac could move back in, and cautiously gets out of the car.
Derek swings open the door and swaggers out in his jeans and wife-beater. "What do you want, Stiles?"
"You can't just—Man— You—" He doesn't know what he's trying to say. For the first time in a long time, words fail him miserably, so he holds his hands up, his dad's razor gripped tightly in one hand and the cord in the other. Derek's shoulders slump, tension leaving them so quickly Stiles is scared he might fall down.
It's been two years to the day since Laura was murdered. January 10th.
When Stiles was driving over to the Hale house, he’d thought that perhaps Derek could shave his head in memory of his sister, but when Derek pulls a stool into the bathroom and sits down on it, Stiles looks at him in awe. His hands shake as the razor hums, but as soon as it touches Derek’s hair, his hands are steady as a surgeon’s. He sticks his tongue out in concentration as he uses deft strokes to shear his hair. When Derek’s shoulders shake under his fingers, Stiles looks up at the mirror in concern, and draws a soothing hand down Derek’s back, seeing a tear slip down Derek’s cheek. When he’s done, he swings Derek around. He cups Derek’s face gently, thumb catching tears as they fall freely down his face. He presses forward, kissing them up to the corner of Derek’s eyes, and Derek lets out a shuddered breath in response. Stiles pulls away and steps back to allow Derek to stand up. He leads Derek over to the sink, bending his head under the flow of water, lathering his hands with shampoo and washing the stray hair away. When he’s done, he hands Derek the towel and sits down on the stool. Derek moves towards the door, towel still over his head, but stops when he realizes Stiles isn’t following. He lets out a startled gasp when he sees Stiles on the chair, looking at him expectantly.
Derek takes the razor in his hand, and catches Stiles’ eye in the mirror. When he turns it on, his hands don’t shake like Stiles’ did. Derek presses kisses to the bald patches as Stiles' hair falls away, and Stiles just sighs every time. The razor starts to shake in Derek's hands then, and Stiles brings his hands up to hold them steady. When it's done, he lets Derek wash the hair pieces off his scalp in the sink. He reaches for the towel, but Derek stills his hands, towel caught between them. Stiles’ eyes widen, but he lets go and allows Derek to dry his head and run his hands over the stubble. The air around them buzzes with electricity and when Derek tosses the towel away, Stiles lets Derek hold his neck, pull him close, and press a chaste kiss to his chapped lips as Stiles’ tongue darts out to wet them. He lets Derek twist his fist in his shirt, head rested on his shoulder as Derek murmurs a quiet 'thanks you', a single tear spilling down his cheek.
He pulls away, hand outstretched towards Derek, and smiles encouragingly when Derek takes his hand. He leads them out to the living room, and settles Derek down into the couch before situating himself as close to Derek as he can. He turns on the television, not wanting to overthink what’s going on between them, and when he sets the remote down, Derek takes Stiles’ hand between his, fingers fitting perfectly between Stiles’ own. Stiles hears a squeak at the top of the stairs, and when he notices Isaac, Stiles gestures for him to come join them. Isaac settles down at the foot of the couch closest to Derek, and Stiles strokes his hand through Isaac’s hair, which earns him a quiet hum of contentment. It isn’t unusual for the pack to show up at Derek’s so he isn’t surprised when they trickle in throughout the afternoon and fit themselves around Derek and Stiles. If the pack finds their shorn heads or their seating bizarre, they don’t say anything. They all sigh happily every time a pack member joins their ‘puppy pile’, in what Stiles amusedly calls ‘pack mentality’. When Boyd shows up, the last member missing, Derek squeezes the hand he’s holding, and Stiles snuggles closer.
“What the hell did they do to Derek’s hair?” Scott whispers loudly to Jackson, assuming he’s the only one not privy to this information. They turn to look at Derek and Stiles expectantly.
Derek looks at Stiles pointedly, and when he nods, Derek tells them about Stiles’ ritual and that he thought he might find solace in the act since it is the anniversary of Laura’s death.
After that it is chaos as Scott insists on shaving his head as well, and upon hearing him the other boys are excited about it as well. Allison laughs at them, as they race to the bathroom, and follows them.
Lydia encourages them even though she refuses to let them anywhere near her while they’re holding the razor. She still helps Allison wash their heads while Derek leans against the door watching them, a quiet smile dancing on his lips. Erica is sitting on the bathroom counter, not participating so Stiles goes and sits next to her and she rests her head on his shoulder. When she comes by the next day, however, her long locks have been replaced by a short uneven cut, that frames her beautiful face so well.
When they do it again that year, on the anniversary of Stiles’ mom’s death, Stiles is touched and thinks it’s funny how old traditions can so quickly turn into new ones. He smiles quietly to himself as Derek’s fingers intertwine with his, feeling more connected to the people he’s started to think as family than he ever has before.