Chapter Text
"I Stiles Stilinski." he was nervous, he didn't even bother trying to mask it like he normally would, "Solemnly swear..."
The words felt too formal, like they couldn't be coming from him, and technically they weren't coming from him. These words came from a different source. He tried not to think about where they came from but he couldn't help it. In all the years that he had known that this was his eventuality, he also knew that there was a higher power, a power that wanted things like this to happen for him. A power that couldn't be caged or tamed or even defined; but was there none the less.
He choked up a bit, so he restarted, "I Stiles Stilinski solemnly swear that I will..."
Did he solemnly swear anything? He choked a bit again, he couldn't help it. "Always," he knew that that word meant something, but he couldn't help pausing on it. This word had meant something when he wrote it. Of course it was important. "Keep," there was a pause here too, keep meant something, right? "And honor," and that was it, this was about something bigger than himself. He could finish.
Still, he thought again, about all the ramifications of what he was doing. Thank goodness he was alone right now, not that he would always be alone, when he did this. And really, if always and keep were words to go by, he would only have to do this once, and that would be it. Right? Right.
He decided that this was crazy; he shouldn't be over thinking this. He had decided to do this. A long time ago. Had he only known for two years? It felt longer. He looked down at his scrawled handwriting again, knowing that this would be an important step, a step that shouldn't be taken lightly, but he wanted to.
He wanted to feel light and careless, especially when he would say these words, but there was a ceremony that had to be attended. And Derek would be there. And that made his stomach do flips.
Derek had said that he didn't have to do this, that Derek would be happy if Stiles never did this. Derek had opened up a bit to share this with Stiles, who cared enough to tell Stiles exactly how he felt. And Derek had pointedly told Stiles that if he didn't want to go through with this, that nobody would be upset, that everything could go back to exactly what it was before all if this started. But Stiles didn't want to go back. As much as he dreaded saying all of this, as much as he wanted it to all go away so he could just get it over with, he wanted this, the ceremony, the eyes looking at him. He was going to be dressed up for this. He already had four ties set out, all of them black, but all of them not quite the same, each representing a different emotion he had gone through.
The black with black stripes had been a joke, but when he remembered why he got it, his little insubordination over all of this, he smiles. The only person who would notice would be Lydia. And that's only because she noticed everything. The black with tiny shiny black dots was also a joke, but less insubordination than vanity. He had wanted his tie to stand out. Then he bought a little black tie. Compared to the other two, it was ugly, plain and simple. Skinny, just like him, it made him think of how ugly and plain and simple he was. And at such an important event, well, he felt plain and simple too. Maybe not ugly, he had many reassuring words that he wasn't ugly.
The last tie looked like a normal, average tie. It had black exterior, and it looked like it belonged at a funeral. It was solemn and dull. It was functionary. Everyone who he had asked had said that it was the best. But it held a secret. Stiles liked having a secret. Some secrets were deadly and exciting. His best friend Scott had one of those. Scott was a werewolf. Werewolves would be deadly, and sure, Scott cheated at every physical sport, but it was fun. There were nights of running into dangerous situations, nights of worry and nights of general elation. The tie seemed to be the best. It had a secret.
Stiles also liked the fact that nobody else knew all of the ties secrets, just like nobody knew all of his. His dad didn't know that he was secretly running around with werewolves. Scott didn't know that he was secretly learning all about magic, and Derek didn't know lots of things, yet. But Stiles was not worried about that, yet.
Before his mind could let go of anything else, he knew that he was wearing the dull, solemn tie. He smiled. That was an easy decision. The first in a while. There was the cake decision, but that was a while back, he had just said he wanted cake, had told someone else to pick it. It was not a conventional ceremony, he knew, but it was his. Stiles' ceremony. Anyone else involved would just have to deal with it. Surprisingly enough, it was Peter who had told him to have it. Everyone knew that Stiles hated peter, in varying degrees of the feeling. Everyone was therefore surprised to see Peter and Stiles sitting on furniture, in cars and walking everywhere while they discussed venues and centerpieces. Stiles might have been the most surprised.
"Well it's not like it happens every day, this is a once in a lifetime occasion."
Stiles smiled. It really was.
Two years, and a few hours of worry seemed to fade away, and now it was all happening.
Stiles was ready.
***
Stiles was not ready. He was nervous and his stomach wouldn't settle. He was wearing a suit and tie. He never wore a suit and tie. Not ever. Who talked him into this? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was Peter, and wanted to kill him, or help kill him, again.
"Stiles?" said a strong reassuring voice. "You alright son?"
Stiles looked into eyes, older eyes, kind eyes, eyes that spoke of proud moments and happy memories. His dad. "Yeah, I will be, when this is all over."
His dad shook his head, "I can't believe you are doing this. I didn't think I would have to worry about this until you were, you know, a bit scruffier. I wish your mother was here."
Stiles shook his head, "I know. Wanted to do this though, before now. Now I am just a mess. Does my tie look crooked?"
The sheriff shook his head, "You look like you are about to go on a photo shoot. Who helped you tame your hair today?"
Stiles looked at his dad, his pride was wounded, "I did my own hair, thank you very much. I look this good EVERY day!"
His dad just smiled at him, "You look better today, maybe it's the tie."
Stiles would accept it.
***
Some where over his shoulder, he knew there were people looking at the back of his head. He knew that they were wondering why this was happening. He also knew what they didn't know. He was lucky. Maybe a few of them knew that, He could feel Scott's eyes boring holes in the back of his hair. He was jealous, but happy for him. "I thought it would have been me, but if it had to be someone, i am glad it was you, but i don't envy you, not in the slightest."
After years of dealing with Scott, it was sweet and normal, this interchange. they had had too manhy of the other type lately, and now that the day was here, Stiles was happy with how he felt, with how scott felt. They were all dressed up, feeling very spiffy, as someone had said. lots of young people, and they were standing in a line, waiting. Stiles hated waiting. He pulled at the tassel on his mason’s cap one more time. He couldn’t help it, he was nervous. He thought Stilinski would be in the back of the line, not the front. He knew there was a reason that he was there, with Danny, sitting and enjoying the glare that the associate principle was giving him. But he couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t belong.
Allison Argent, a name that was sure to have gotten her a few people away, was looking at him, smiling. So much had changed since back then. Back when it had all started, and there were so many deaths. He was worried that he was going to die before this happened. As it was, he only had a few goals left now, goals that were, for all intensive purposes, not going to happen in the conceivable future.
Except for college, and he was excited about that.
Life was moving on, just not how he had envisioned it. He got the call and they all started walking down the line. Stiles couldn’t even hear the traditional march as he put one foot in front of the other, Mrs. McCall was smiling at him, next to his dad, even Mr. Argent was there, a seat between the other two, as if he was waiting for someone to fill it. Still, Stiles was surprised to see Peter and Derek sitting together, looking like they were happy, but being very nonchalant about it.
Stiles took the seat, the second in from the first chair, and sat down, trying to make himself as small as possible. He waited until the music cut, then he saw a few people get up and stand. He was ready for this. Under the robe, he had on his tie. And in his pocket, he had his notes. Still, Stiles wasn’t sure what he was going to say when he got up there.
Danny went first, giving a traditional speech that included such memorable highlights as “We are the future,” “We will never forget out time here, the people who helped shaped us,” and “When we leave today, we enter the real world.”
Stiles thought that it kept everything optimistic, and it was kind of cliché, but it was exactly what everyone wanted to hear at graduation. He suddenly hated his speech, it sounded basically the same.
The guest speaker, some hot shot news reporter for the local news, stood up and thanked Danny for his speech. They introduced the next student, the student had high honors, the student was Co-captain of the lacrosse team who had won state this year, and the student was welcomed to take the stage. Stiles stood, pulled his hand out with a full page of notes that he wasn't going to read off, and took his place.
“Friends, Family, esteemed guests. I Stiles Stilinski solemnly swear that I am up to no good. That none of us here are, and that this is a load of bull. This ceremony is a waste of an hour and a half of our time, and everyone here is happy for it. Hell I’m happy for it.” There was a few titters and a few shocked looks, mostly done by the faculty sitting a few feet in front of the stage. “That being said, I’m happy you could make it to see this day. It means a lot to me, and to everyone else here. Now let me bore you with my speech.”
He might have mentioned that this day was about their parents, their family and friends who were watching them, and not about them. He might have said that they were about to go out into the world and fuck up magnificently. He might have said that the next test that they failed would cost them money, or a job, or whatever they were doing. He knows he talked about sex, pregnancy and the American Dream in there somewhere. And prison, because prison was a thing. What exactly he said about drugs, well Scott couldn’t stop laughing, so it must have been good.
When it was all over, he had managed to sound both subversive and supportive of everyone in attendance, and the entire class, whether they agreed with every point or not they were cheering him on. And then he walked off, past the people who were looking at him like they wanted to murder him, and right to where Scott McCall was sitting close by Lydia Martin, and sat between them on their chairs.
Lydia leaned over so that he and anyone with sensitive ears could hear him, “That’s why I gave up my valedictorian speech. I wanted to hear the truth.”
Stiles smiled, there would be time for explanations later, preferably when he was full of cake, and maybe beer, because yeah, he said beer in his speech, and beer was a thing.