Chapter Text
Stiles has a drawer in his room full of his old baby stuff. He honestly doesn’t know why he has his old blanket, stuffed plushies, toys and pacifier stuck in the bottom drawer of his nightstand. It probably has something to do with the leak they had in the basement when he was six. Or maybe when they were renovating part of the house after a break in the roof, which meant they had to put half of their stuff in weird places.
That doesn’t matter. Case point is that Stiles has a drawer full of baby stuff and he never tried to get rid of it. Quite the opposite in fact which, he knows, is weird. Still… there is a reason.
When his mom died, the shock was brutal. Stiles cried for weeks, breaking down every single time something reminded him of his mom. And his dad, well… his dad seemed to lose his will to live. Noah buried his grief in alcohol and tended to forget simple things, like making super or laundry.
Stiles got very scared. More scared than he was sad, because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing his dad too. So he wiped the tears from his face and, at the tender age of eleven years, he decided to take on the burden of responsibilities. He bothered his dad until the man would bring him to the grocery. He found cookbooks and tried his hands at recipes that weren’t too hard but that were healthy. He dragged baskets that were almost as big as him down the stairs so that he could wash all of their clothes. He got out the vacuum, a wet rag, a duster and multiple cleaning products to make sure that the house was neat every single week. He even took care of the lawn.
All his dad had to do was work at the station, pay the bills and bring Stiles to places when they needed stuff for the house. It wasn’t much and Noah seemed to benefit from the huge help Stiles was giving him, drinking less and less every night, though the haunted glimmer in his eyes never left.
It took a toll on Stiles though. He barely had time to himself and every time he could finally play… he felt too restless. He didn’t want to play video games because he was thinking about how the bath needed to be scrubbed. He didn’t want to call Scott over because who would make supper then? He didn’t want to watch the latest superhero movie because Stiles was scared shitless that his dad would fall into the bottle once again and freaking kill himself this time around.
Stiles had to become an adult way too early. And that is why… he never wanted to get rid of his baby stuff. Night was the only moment where he could finally calm down and just be. Almost every night, he opened his nightstand’s last drawer and he would peek at the stuff he had. Sometimes, when he was brave enough and when he was sure that his father wouldn’t come into his room, he would even drag his fingers through the soft fur of his old bunny plush and it would soothe him to sleep.
When he woke up in the morning, he would push every thought he had about his baby stuff away from his mind. It was a new day and he had a lot of stuff to do that were much more important.
Years passed in that fashion, never derogating from the new routine Stiles had set. Noah seemed to get better and better, though still too lost in grief and Stiles made sure that his dad didn’t have to worry about anything when the man had so much on his plate already. And while Stiles was pretty sure this wasn’t very normal behaviour for a teenager, he’d convinced himself that he was happy. Or at the very least content. The routine was comforting and no one was complaining, so why change anything?
***
Everything comes to a terrible crash when Stiles is sixteen. It’s six thirty in the evening and he has just finished eating his supper, fish and vegetables. It’s an evening where he’s alone because his father finishes his shift at nine, so he’s putting the rest of the food in tupperwares, making sure that his dad will have a portion for later in the evening and a lunch for tomorrow as well as a lunch for himself.
Stiles is about to start washing the dishes when he gets a message on his phone. He turns the water off in the sink and reaches for his phone in his jeans’ pocket. He clicks it open to find a message from his dad, the only one that sends him messages to be completely honest . He doesn’t really have friends, Scott having migrated to a new circle of friends though he does come see Stiles sometimes.
Aunt Sophia came back from China. She’s coming over Saturday for lunch with her kids
The message is a surprise. Not sure that Stiles is happy though. He doesn’t have anything against Aunt Sophia, of course, from what he remembers, she’s kind and soft though a bit distant. It’s just that… well, she never came back from China to help her half-brother when Claudia died. She never even called or sent her best wishes or anything. Unless she contacted his dad when Stiles wasn’t there. It’s always a possibility.
Stiles rubs his forehead as he thinks about the implications of having guests over. Ever since his mom died, they haven’t had anyone over and Stiles isn’t exactly sure what he’s supposed to do. He definitely has to make sure the house is in order and he has to provide food too. Lunch. And maybe something to drink? Like lemonade. It’s nice enough outside for lemonade. And maybe little munchies for the kids if they’re hungry.
With plan slowly forming in his mind, Stiles quickly types a reply.
How many kids? And what time?
The response comes relatively quickly, which probably means that Noah is having a slow night at the station.
Four. The eldest is eight and the youngest is six months old. They should get home around 11h
That… surprises Stiles. Four kids? Isn’t Aunt Sophia in China? Where the number of kids are reglemented? Oh well.
Alright :)
And with that, Stiles puts his phone back into his pocket and turns back towards the sink. As he washes the dishes, he thinks about his schedule. It’s Thursday, so Aunt Sophia is coming in less than two days. This puts a wrench in Stiles cleaning schedule. Normally, he does his cleaning Saturday morning and he’s done around 2pm. He can’t start cleaning tonight because he has a test tomorrow and he really needs to study if he doesn’t want to fail. Mr Harris always expects perfect answers, if not, he makes you lose points and Stiles… well Stiles doesn’t want to lose points. Grades are important. So he’ll have to start his cleaning tomorrow night and try to do as much as he can and then he needs to make food too for more than two mouths…
In all honesty, this is stressing Stiles. Too much to do and too little time. But Stiles is used to being stressed and he’s sure he can manage it. He always can.
Still, he starts scrubbing a bit faster, hoping he can cram in a bit of cleaning in his evening, even with his studies.
***
By Saturday morning, Stiles just wants for Aunt Sophia to come and go. He isn’t too sure that his test went well and he stayed awake late last night, trying to make sure everything will be perfect for the visit, while waking up early this morning to make food.
He’s tired, dead on his feet. When 11 o’clock comes, Stiles finds his father dressed in his best clothes, which is something Stiles hasn’t seen in a very long time. Stiles wants to make a comment, tell his dad how nice it is to see him dressed in clothes that aren’t pyjamas on his day off, but Stiles doesn’t really have the energy to and that’s when Aunt Sophia knocks on the door.
His dad opens the door and it’s like a tornado enters the house in the form of four loud children. Stiles is momentarily stunned, not understanding what’s going on, especially when the kids start babbling in a mix of chinese and english.
Aunt Sophia seems to ignore her exuberant children. If the grip she has on her youngest and if the dark circles under her eyes are a sign, they surely indicate how tired and overworked she is.
“Hi, Noah,” she sighs with a smile before hugging the man with one arm.
“Hey, Sophia,” Noah answers, the love clear in his voice. “How are you doing?”
Aunt Sophia nods slowly. “Tired, tired. But really happy to see you. Hi, Mieczysław,” she then says to her nephew.
Stiles jumps in surprise. Her pronunciation is all wrong and it almost hurt his ears. He also realises that the last time he saw his aunt, it had to be before elementary school, because he doesn’t go by that name anymore.
“Hi, Aunt Sophia,” he says politely. “You can call me Stiles. I go by that. Easier to pronounce.”
Aunt Sophia smiles and nods and they then all move to the living room. Noah puts a movie for the kids to watch while he catches up with his half-sister. The conversation is pleasant and while everyone seems to be comfortable, Stiles quietly goes to the kitchen to grab glasses and the pitcher of fresh lemonade. He puts them on a tray so that he can also bring the two plates of munchies, one with vegetables and dip and the other one with crackers and ham spread.
As soon as he enters the living room with the food, the kids turn to him, cleary eager to eat a bit. Stiles carefully puts the tray on the coffee table as the three older kids stand from the couch and walk to him. They seem curious about the crackers and Stiles shows them how to take the knife and spread the ham on the cracker.
“Just like that,” he says as he shows the cracker to the two boys and little girl. He gives the food to the girl as she seems to be around three or four years old, so probably incapable of putting the spread on a cracker without breaking it.
The small girl smiles timidly at him and says a word, which he doesn’t understand, before stuffing the cracker in her mouth. Aunt Sophia, who had been talking to Noah all that time, turns to her daughter. “Mei, you know your cousin doesn’t speak chinese. You have to speak in english for him to understand. Now, what do we say?”
Mei turns to Stiles, making her pigtails jump with the movement. She smiles at him. “Thank you,” she says, her words heavily accented, but recognizable all the same.
Stiles can’t help himself but return the smile.
The kids, after having eaten their fill, sit back down to watch the movie, a glass of lemonade in their hands. Aunt Sophia and Noah also get a glass and eat a few munchies while still talking. At around 12h30, it’s clear that everyone is ready to eat lunch if the empty plates indicate anything so Stiles gathers all the glasses on the tray and brings it back to the kitchen. His fingers itch to start cleaning the dirty dishes, but he ignores the urge, filling instead a big cauldron of water and then putting it on the stove to boil.
Stiles feels grateful as he slips into a routine, making simple spaghetti for everyone. The recipe isn’t too hard and he’s pretty sure the kids are going to love it, even if they never had it before. He made the sauce earlier this morning, a quick version that only needed to simmer for barely a few hours. The saucepan with the mixture is still on the stove and still hot. So Stiles only need to keep stirring the sauce from time to time as the pasta boil in another saucepan.
All in all, it takes about twenty minutes for the food to be ready and Stiles invites everyone to follow him into the dining room. Once everyone is sitting, he brings the plates one after the other before sitting himself with his own plate.
As expected, the kids never had spaghetti and Aunt Sophia carefully puts her baby in Noah’s arms so that she can cut her three eldests’ food for them with Stiles helping her. She goes to take back her youngest son from Noah, but her half-brother gently shakes his head, indicating that he can hold him for the meal.
“Thank you,” Aunt Sophia whispers before digging into her food.
It’s silent for a bit as everyone eats their spaghetti, the kids are seemingly having a religious moment with how amazed they look, and Stiles is grateful for the small reprieve.
“Your house is amazing by the way. Very well maintained” Aunt Sophia eventually says as she twirls pasta around her fork. “I know with Claudia gone…”
Stiles feels happy to hear the compliment, but he hates the mention about his mom. He doesn’t let himself linger on the comment though, because fear rears its ugly head as he shoots a glance at his father. He’s scared that the mention of his mom is going to be too much for Noah. They haven’t talked about her for five years now, but his dad doesn’t seem sad. In fact, he looks surprised by the compliment. Noah takes the time to look around the room, probably noticing the lack of dust and the gleaming decorative plates hanging on the walls. His gaze falls briefly on his son before finally landing on Sophia.
“Oh, uh… yes.”
And Noah doesn’t say anything more. Stiles knows that his dad isn’t feeling comfortable with this conversation and so he tries to find a subject, any subject, to distract Aunt Sophia.
Thankfully, it isn’t necessary as the baby starts crying in Noah’s arms. Aunt Sophia immediately jumps up to take her son. “What’s wrong, Li Jie?” she asks in a silly voice.
Stiles takes the opportunity for what it is and stands up. “Do you need anything? For… for the baby?”
Aunt Sophia looks up. “Oh, he’s probably hungry. I left his bag in the entrance. If you could take his bottle, formula and a pacifier, I’d be really grateful. He’s also probably grumpy because he doesn’t have his pacifier,” she says as she turns to her baby, making silly faces. “Isn’t that right, Li Jie? You just loooove your pacifiers but you keep losing them all the time, you little monster! You’re going to make me broke if you keep at it!”
Stiles doesn’t stay longer for more baby talk, happy to make his escape. He walks to the entrance and finds the bag his aunt was talking about. It’s a monstrous thing in all honesty, with way too many pockets. Stiles suddenly gets the impression that Aunt Sophia must be the one losing the pacifiers if she puts Li Jie’s things in there.
He opens pocket after pocket, never finding what he’s looking for until he finally unzips the bag. There, he finds a ton of diapers as well as the bottle and formula. He grabs those two items and then he finds about ten different pacifiers and Stiles… well, he doesn’t know why, but he takes the time to look at them.
They’re fun, he decides, with different designs and colors. They’re also very different from the one he still has in his drawer. He realises that the one he has, a purple one with a picture of Barney on it, must be dry because the nipple is very different from the ones in the bag. These have a soft beige color and they’re squishy unlike his one that is a dark brown color and much harder.
He keeps looking and that’s when he finds a blue pacifier that has Captain America’s shield on it. For whatever reason, something seems to grow hot in Stiles’ chest. He can’t explain why, but he finds this pacifier completely adorable. Way too cute. He hasn’t seen the movie, but he has seen the trailer and Captain America is bound to be cool. Stiles’ fingers twitch against the pacifier.
A loud screech from a chair in the dining room brings Stiles back to where he is, crouching in the entrance, where anyone can see him fondling the pacifier in his hand. In a fit of panic, he drops the pacifier, picking another one, and grabs the bottle and formula. He’s about to stand and go back into the dining room, but the blue pacifier is on his mind.
You just loooove your pacifiers but you keep losing them all the time, you little monster!
Aunt Sophia isn’t going to notice anything. With that barely comprehensible thought, Stiles bends down and quickly steals the blue pacifier and stuffs it into his pocket before leaving the entrance.
He doesn’t understand why he did that. Doesn’t think he wants to understand, so he pushes those thoughts as far away as he can.
That night, long after Aunt Sophia left with her kids, Stiles throws the new pacifier inside his drawer with all his other baby stuff and he forbids himself from rifling through it. What he did was stupid and he never should have stolen from his aunt, no matter if she would notice or not. He doesn’t need a pacifier. This was just plain stealing for stealing.
He feels like a horrible human being. A horrible, deeply embarrassed, human being.