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“Pora spać, Mietku,” Klaudia Stilinski whispered softly to her son who was dozing off in her lap. He made a quiet sound in the back of his throat and wiggled closer to his mother's chest. His father rested a broad hand against his tiny back and smiled at his wife. (bed time)
"He had a long day today, kochanie,” John reminded, rubbing soothing circles on his son’s back, ”It was his first day of kindergarten, after all." (my love)
Klaudia smiled as John turned off the television. He stood and carefully lifted Mieczysław into his arms before taking Klaudia's hand and helping her stand. They made the quick walk up the stairs and into their son's room. He was mumbling in his sleep as they lay him on his bed. Klaudia took a moment to tuck him into his Batman bed sheets and kiss his forehead.
"Kocham cię, słoneczko," Klaudia cooed and turned to follow John out of the door. She left the lamp on and door cracked like Mieczysław preferred. He dreamed about a cool forest bathed in blue moon light and radiant yellow eyes. (i love you, sweetie)
When he woke the next morning to his mother's warm fingers scratching at his back he stretched lazily and yawned.
"Time to get up for school," Klaudia reminded, pulling the blanket back slowly. Her son wiggled before sitting up. She stopped him, grabbing his wrist gently, and pulling his arm closer. The little black inky smudge that had been so small the day before had blossomed into incredibly tiny squiggled letters.
"Can you read it?" Mieczysław asked excitedly, trying to peer at the name through his mother's dangling hair.
"I think that first letter is a 'd', but it's still so small," she explained with equal excitement, tracing her finger over the word before standing and ruffling her son's hair. "Let's go eat breakfast, m'kay? We can show your father before he goes to work."
Mieczysław jumped off his bed and practically ran down the stairs to launch himself at his father who was sipping coffee at the table. John huffed in surprise but reflexively wrapped his arm around his son.
"Tata my Name is coming in, lookit," he gasped out, thrusting his little arm up for his father to see. John inspected the mark before smiling proudly at his son.
"You know I was about your age, too, when your mother's name started to really show up," he told his son, who was staring wide eyed up at John.
"You're an early bloomer, Mietku," Klaudia noted, setting a plate of food at the table and corralling her son into the seat. He shoved a few spoonfuls of eggs into his mouth before he spoke again.
"When am I going to meet them?" Mieczysław asked after swallowing his mouthful.
"Hmm, well I met John when I was twenty," Klaudia hummed, sharing a look with her husband. He smiled at her and finished up his coffee.
"What if I never meet them, though?" Mieczysław asked with a deeply fearful expression.
"That never happens, słoneczko, you will meet them when you are both ready," Klaudia promised, pressing a reassuring kiss to his forehead as she stood to say good bye to John. (sunshine)
...
Twelve years later and Stiles knew that was a lie. It might be rare but there was still a .001% chance that he would never meet his soulmate. That was a little over seventy three thousand people. And he would never know if he was one of them until he died. What a fucked up thought. Sometimes, though, he wondered if maybe he would rather be one of those unlucky people. After watching the way his dad crumbled after his mom died, Stiles wasn't sure if he wanted to go through that some day. He hadn't even met his soulmate yet and still the idea of loosing them made his chest tight with dread.
Not that he didn't have his suspicions over who was his destined. He was pretty sure he knew who it was, but that person hadn't even given him a second glance. So he was kind of thinking he had been wrong.
Actually he still wasn't for sure whether he knew or not, but Hale was the only Derek he knew, and he could see himself falling in love with the guy. He just, didn't want to give into that just to get his heart broken later. He'd already been through that with Lydia Martin. He did not need a repeat of 9th grade.
She was actually really nice about the whole ordeal, thankfully. But having spent most of middle school pinning after a girl only to find out your freshman year of high school that your soulmate was 'Derek' and not 'Lydia' was a tough blow. He'd been mopey for the better half of a year before Scott finally talked him out of it.
And then junior year came around and Stiles had more important things to worry about than the black sprawl of letters hidden on his wrist under a thick bracelet. Scott had gotten bit while visiting his mom at work at the hospital and turned from human to werewolf. Which wouldn't have been that big of a deal if he had actually wanted to be a wolf. But he didn't. So then they had to deal with the drama of finding a suitable local Alpha to take Scott into their pack and help build up his control. Those first few months had been rough on the McCall's, which actually led to his parents divorce. But things were better off, considering they weren't even soulmates to begin with.
But then Derek Hale was suddenly Scott's psuedo older brother and he was always around and Stiles couldn't fucking help it, he fell pretty hard for the guy. But apparently he was steadfastly withholding himself for his one-true-love. Which was equal parts endearing and equal parts annoying. Stiles didn't want to marry the damn guy, but going out on a few dates and maybe making out in the back seat of his sister's camaro weren't such bad ideas.
He'd managed to keep his feelings a secret so far, not even his dad knowing. They weren't as close, anyways. Not since Klaudia had passed ten years ago. Things had changed after that.
Stiles started wanting to be called Stiles. He stopped speaking polish. If his dad even called him kochanie or słoneczko anymore there was a good chance he would start crying. So they sort of put that part of his heritage away and forgot about it.
Until Stiles found his mom's old journals from when she lived in Poland. He spent an entire afternoon locked in his room pouring over the tilted slant of her words, door locked and trying to keep his sniffles as quiet as possible. He traced his Name while he re-read them again the next night. And the next. He had them memorized by the weekend and successfully shocked his dad that Saturday when he greeted him at dinner with 'cześć tato.' John had dropped his fork even, splattering spaghetti sauce all over the floor.
Relearning Polish was a lot harder than he had anticipated. It had been his first language, after all, with his mother singing old lullabies to him and stroking his hair. Maybe it was how hard he struggled to not think about those times before she got sick that made it so difficult. Eventually, though, he had a little break through. Things came easier after that.
Living in a small town in west America didn't offer many opportunities for Stiles to keep his Polish fluid, but there was a little deli by Costco where an elderly Polish woman worked. Stiles would go there as often as possible and spend an hour or so chatting with her. They were on a first name basis. A real first name basis. She called him Mieczysław not his nickname.
He still wasn't sure if he was glad no one but his dad and the little old deli woman knew his real first name. He'd tried to go by it during kindergarten, but he had a minor lisp at the time and so couldn't even properly say it himself. He ended up going by his middle name Genim until his mother's dead in 3rd grade. Then he switched to Stiles, which he had picked up off the news one afternoon.
...
"Stiles, Talia wants to know if you are coming to dinner tonight again so she knows how many steaks to make," Scott says as soon as they sit down for lunch in the cafeteria. They had separate classes until that point so it was their first time seeing each other that day.
"Yeah, dad works late tonight. He's still stuck on that kidnapping case from last month," Stiles supplied as he picked his burger apart to add ketchup and pickles.
"Can I hitch a ride, then?" he asked after sending off a text to Talia. She was a patient woman for letting two high school boys come over almost every weekday to hang out. She already had enough on her plate without adding an ADHD teen and a gullible newly turned wolf.
"Sure, we can go straight from scho- kurczę!" Stiles cursed as his hand jerked on the ketchup packet and strung the red goo onto his jacket. Scott's head perked up at that. (dammit)
"...Cool..Richard? What?" Scott asked with a confused twitch of his mouth.
"No, you idiot. It was polish. I was speaking polish. Kurczę," Stiles corrected as he hurriedly wiped the ketchup off before it could stain.
"You speak polish?" Scott asked quickly, obviously impressed.
"I thought you knew this. You've heard me and my dad talk before," he said as he shot his best friend the look. The 'you're so oblivious how did you not notice this' look.
"I guess I never really paid attention," he admitted hesitantly, looking away from Stiles to hide his guilty smile.
"Głupek," Stiles muttered. (stupid)
"What does that mean?" Scott immediately asked. Stiles just laughed.
Later that afternoon Stiles spent the whole ride to the Hale house saying all the words Scott wanted. He may or may not have bullshit a few, or all, of them. But he got the whole 'can you say this in...' thing enough from other people he didn't need it from his best friend.
"Does this mean your real name isn't Stiles, because I've seen your school ID card and it says 'M. Stilinski' not Stiles," Scott pointed out as they finally pulled to a park outside the house. Stiles could already hear the sound of kids running around on the wood floors inside, and he was human.
"No, my real name isn't Stiles. You know that!" he chastised, pushing Scott out of his jeep as he opened the door. The werewolf just laughed and circled around the vehicle to walk up the steps of the house. Stiles followed him quickly.
"So what is your real name? Something embarrassing? Is it Michelle?" he teased. Stiles shoved his hand into Scott's face and pushed him away before rushing inside the door and locking the knob. He laughed loudly when he felt the handle jiggle and heard Scott groaning from the other side of the door.
"Let me inside, I was joking," came Scott's muffled voice. Stiles bit his lip and snickered. A hand pressing against the wood beside his head made him jump.
"Stiles stop torturing him and unlock the door," a warm voice demanded from behind him. His back tensed from the fright and he felt little goose bumps break out along his skin at the proximity of the other man.
"Sure thing, Derek, yeah," he breathed, unlocking the door and stepping away as Scott jerked the door open and stumbled inside. He looked pleased at having gotten the door open finally, sending Derek a nod of thanks before cuffing Stiles' shoulder in revenge.
"So I heard there would be steaks," Stiles recovered, turning to look wide eyed at Derek. Who huffed and rolled his eyes.
"Didn't you eat lunch like two hours ago?" he questioned, to which Stiles just grinned as if challenged.
"He had an entire burger and half of my chicken sandwich," Scott taddled, leading the way from the mudroom to the living room. Laura was flipping through the TV channels, wiggling her toes obnoxiously close to her little sister Cora's face. Cora was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table doing homework, but wasn't getting much done with how often she had to push Laura's feet away from her papers and face. She was letting out a little continuous growl.
"Grow up, Laura," Cora snapped. Stiles tried not to laugh at the scene, but was finding it a little hard. Derek just looked done. He probably had to hear that all day every day and just wanted a break. Oh the woes of having siblings. Something neither Stiles nor Scott would ever know of.
"Finally taco-guy is here!" Laura called joyously, looking over the back of the couch as Stiles with a wicked grin. Stiles felt his face flush. Throw up Del Taco one time at someones house and they never let you live it down.
"Ew," Derek and Cora said at the same time, earning a glare from each of them.
"Come beat this level of Crash Bandicoot for me," Laura demanded, switching the TV to AUX and getting up to turn on her Xbox. Stiles obediently sat on the couch and took the control that was still sitting on the coffee table.
"We're going out back to practice," Scott informed as he passed through the living room with Derek and into the kitchen. Stiles heard he back door open and close. The sound of pots and pans being moved around in the kitchen and Peter's two sons running around upstairs was the only sound he could hear after that.
"How far have you gotten since the last time I helped you?" Stiles asked Laura as she flopped down onto the couch again.
"She played one level and gave up," Cora supplied, looking up from her work to watch Stiles expertly navigate the screen. He'd had a lot of free time as a kid.
"Shut up," Laura snapped, leaning forward to flip her sisters book closed. Which led to a shouting fight between the two which led to an actual fight between the two. Claws and rolling around on the floor and everything. Stiles watched in mild amusement. It eventually ended with Laura sitting on Cora's stomach, both hands firmly pressed to the floor, and drool hanging dangerously out of his mouth.
"Don't you dare do it! Don't do it! Ack, mom!" Cora yelled, trying to squirm away from Laura before the older girl- er woman, she was older than Stiles- spit on her cheek.
"You two stop it!" Talia called from the kitchen, not even bothering to come see what the commotion was about. Reluctantly Laura climbed off her smaller sister, collapsing back onto the couch with a sigh. Her long hair was a complete mess, her shirt hanging off her shoulder oddly. Cora just got up, grabbed her school things and stormed up the stairs.
"Cry baby," Laura muttered, running her fingers through her hair to get some of the bigger tangles out. Stiles raised an eyebrow at her derision.
"Ohh-kay," he drawled, turning back to the screen at his idling character. It only took him two tries to beat the level for her, handing her the controller back. She seems proud of herself at the level finally being over. He just rolled his eyes and watched her spend the next thirty minutes struggling to make it to the first checkpoint.
It was an hour after she finally gave up and they turned it on NCIS instead that Derek and Scott wandered back in. Derek was shirtless, Scott down to his tank top. Derek spared Laura and Stiles a glance before jogging up the stairs. Stiles couldn't help but watch his muscles move as he did so.
Scott fell into the chair beside the couch, taking a few deep breaths to get his breathing back under control. Stiles wished it was that easy for him. He runs a few suicides in Lacrosse practice and he's wheezing on the bench for the next ten minutes.
"How'd it go?" Stiles asked once he was settled. Scott gave him a gleeful smirk.
"He said I should be able to stay home this full moon instead of in the basement," he laughed at the ridiculousness of what he said.
"That's good, though. Maybe next month we can actually hang out without me needing bodyguards," he joked. Laura jabbed him with the remote.
"I was an awesome bodyguard and you know it," she said. Stiles looked up as if in thought. She growled and dug the remote almost painfully into his ribs. He pushed it away with a laugh.
"Fine, fine, I concede. You kept me alive, so I guess you did your job," he said cheekily. She narrowed her eyes at him but after a second turned back to the TV.
Scott then pestered Stiles about homework until he finally gave him the page numbers. They spent a moment arguing over what the teacher had said before Talia's voice cut them off, letting them know that dinner would be ready in ten. Not five minutes later did Stiles hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He assumed whoever it was had walked into the kitchen, so he was completely caught off guard when Derek managed to get the drop on his again. He jerked forward when a figure stepped over the back of the couch and onto the cushions.
"O mój Boże, stop sneaking up on me," he gasped, staring at Derek as he plopped down between him and Laura. Derek stared back rather intently for a second, confusion giving way to suspicion. He had just opened his mouth to speak when Stiles' ring tone of 'Don't You (Forget About Me)' filled the room. At Laura's judgmental look Stiles slipped the phone from his pocket, mumbling about it being his mom's favorite before checking the caller ID and answering. (oh my god)
"Hey Daddio," he said cheerfully, not bothering to leave the room like he would normally. He was in a house full of werewolves, if they wanted to listen in to his phone call they would, there was no use in walking onto the porch into the bathroom.
"Stiles, hey, do you have a minute?" John asked. The sound of shuffling papers could be heard over the line.
"I'm free for a sec, what's up?" he asked, staring at the wooden knots at the corners of the TV stand.
"If I send you a few pictures of some files could you translate them for me? We have a translator on retainer, but she's not answering our emails right now, and this is a little time sensitive," he explained. Stiles felt his phone vibrate, which meant he had already sent the pictures over.
"Sure thing," he responded, switching the call to speaker before pulling up the pictures. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, watching him curiously. He pulled up the pictures, police scans of what looked like a Polish handwritten note.
After a second of deciphering Stiles answered, "Holy shit, dad, is this a ransom note?"
"Yeah, that's the most of what I could gleam, but I can't read it like you," he said. Stiles felt his heart lurch as he re-read the words.
"It, uh, says to bring half a million to the downtown train station in San Fran by noon tomorrow. It doesn't say anything else. But if the guy can't even write in English what the hell is he doing kidnapping people in America?" Stiles asked, turning the call back off speaker and pressing it to his ear. He heard his dad sigh heavily over the line.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. I've got to go and notify the SFPD, though. I'll call you when I get off work," he said.
"Alright. Bądź bezpieczny, Tato," he said before his had could hang up. (stay safe, dad)
"You too, słoneczko," his dad answered before ending the call. The first thing anyone said once he pocketed his phone was Derek's bewildered whisper of, "Was that polish?"
"Yeah," he answered, watching the guy questioningly. Derek got this pensive look, clamming up and refusing to meet his gaze.
"It's ready to eat," Talia called from the kitchen, saving Stiles from whatever awkward conversation was about to take place. Derek shot up from the couch too fast to be a polite way to end a conversation and strode into the kitchen.
...
"Talia wants you to come over for dinner next time," Stiles says in loo of a greeting as he takes his seat at the table that Sunday night. It's one of the rare nights his dad is off, so they make the most of it with dinner and usually a movie. John had just closed up the kidnapping case yesterday, so he'd spent all day sleeping and had only woken up a few hours ago.
"I hope she doesn't expect me to bring anything," he said jokingly, Stiles was the cook of the house and even then most of their meals were Amy's Light & Lean.
"Nah, she knows you don't cook. Just bring yourself over Tuesday night around five," he said. John nodded and they ate in comfortable silence.
Once Marvel movie later and Stiles was exhausted. He bid his dad a goodnight, trudging up the stairs as his dad called 'night, Mieczysławie.'
He dreamed about warm hands rubbing his back and a soft kiss on his forehead that night.
...
Tuesday rolls around quickly enough. Scott had gotten a dirt bike over the weekend, so Stiles no longer had to give him rides there and back. So he made a stop by the deli to talk up Mrs. Kowalska. She gave him a free turkey sub and sent him away after telling him a story about her childhood in Poland.
He got to the Hale house at around four fifty. When he killed the engine he was a little nervous at how quiet the house seemed. Usually he could at least hear the terror-some twins of Peter's howling or screaming. But there was nothing. Not even a groan from the wood. Slowly he climbed out of his jeep, sandwich still in hand. He made his way to the door, building sense of impending doom growing with every step. He paused as his hand rested on the cold metal of the door knob.
Ever so slowly he turned the knob and pushed the door open, breath held tightly in his chest. The lights were off in the mudroom, so he very carefully slipped inside. He let the door close behind him, staring at the dark doorway to the living room in front of him. A metallic taste of panic was creeping up his throat. What was going on?
He edged closer to the doorway, trying to make out any threatening shadows or glowing eyes in the dark. It wasn't until he was standing in the doorway that he noticed the two black figures pressed against the wall close to the stairs. He nearly jumped out of his skin when one of them moved.
The short figure lunged towards him, and he definitely let out a yelp, his heart jumping up into his mouth.
The lights suddenly flashed on to show the laughing face of Laura and Cora Hale. Scott was grinning by the light switch, watching his friend turn red in indignation.
"Kurwa mać! Ja pierdole! Ale z was dziwki! Nienawidzę was!" Stiles whined, trying to get his heart rate back under control. He didn't even notice the door had opened until he heard his father's disgruntled voice from behind him. (son of a bitch! fuck! you are such whores! i hate you!)
"Mieczysławie Genim Stilinski! Co powiedziałaś? Eh?" John demanded, face tight with disapproval. (what did you say?)
"Przepraszam. They scared me," he defended, pointing to the still giggling Laura and Cora. (sorry)
"That doesn't mean you get to just start cursing up a storm," John argued.
"They don't even know what I said," Stiles countered.
"It doesn't matter-"
"Was that Polish?" Derek interrupted, when had he even gotten in the room. Stiles need to put bells on all of the wolves, they were too good and sneaking up on him.
"Wait a second, did he just say your name?" Scott asked, just now catching up.
"Yes, idiot, he did," Stiles sent his dad a glare. John just shrugged.
"Was that Polish?" Derek repeated, eyes glued on Stiles. He took another step into the room. Stiles tilted his head in confusion, his heart beginning to pound for an entirely different reason.
"Yes, why?" he answered slowly. Derek's eyes flashed a brilliant yellow before he snapped his gaze up to meet Stiles.
"Can we talk? Alone," he pressed out. Stiles just nodded dumbly, following in bewilderment as Derek hurried up the staircase and into his room.
"If this is about me calling your sisters whores, it was just a joke," he began as the door swung closed.
"You called my sisters whores?" he asked in confused amusement. Stiles scoffed and looked away.
"No, I didn't call them anything," he lied. Derek didn't reply, just peered at the boy intensely. After a moment of silence Stiles started to squirm.
"So, you wanted to tal-"
"You wrist says Derek, doesn't it Mieczysławie?" the werewolf cut in, eyes watching Stiles sharply. Stiles eyes bugged out at the name, mouth going dry and heart thumping too quickly in his chest.
"You- You know my name? You can pronounce my name?" he stumbled, completely caught off guard by this turn of events.
"Znam wiele słów, Mieczysławie," Derek managed slowly. Stiles barked out a laugh. (i know many words)
"That was the worst polish I have ever heard, Serduszko," he laughed. Derek frowned, but took a step closer. (sweetheart)
"Then what about...pocałuj mnie." (kiss me)
"Now that I understood," Stiles breathed, throwing his arms around Derek's neck and pressing his lips to the older man's. The breath left his lungs in a swoosh but he didn't pull away. The soft warm pressure of Derek's mouth over his was over far too soon.
"What kind of name is Stiles, anyway?" Derek whispered. Stiles just laughed softly, stealing another kiss.
"Głupek," he replied, lips still resting against Derek's.