I MET YOU BEFORE STILES

A tall, dark-haired man watched those two troublemakers who were on his land again as they were leaving. He got a strange feeling from them as if he knew one of them. The short-haired one seemed to be familiar.
And then he heard the name Stiles. At that moment he recalled everything. Of course he knew him. It was Stiles, the boy without a mom. Derek closed his eyes for a moment to be able to recall that night.

He had been ten when he had been wandering in a forest at night because Laura had teased him and hadn't wanted to let him be. So he changed into a wolf and ran away for couple hours. He knew his parents wouldn't look for him; they weren't worried about him. They had never been.  Derek wasn't an ordinary boy; he was a young wolf, who could have taken care of himself more than anyone else.

Suddenly he saw the night right in front of him again.

He had just been running not far from the road, when he had heard something. He stopped and sniffed. He was sure there was someone else with him – a human, probably a child. He was a little curious and so he decided to follow the smell. At first he was afraid but as soon as he noticed the tiny body dressed in a washed-out jeans and red sweatshirt, he felt relieved. He watched the person from behind the bush where he was completely safe. The boy definitely couldn't see him. Derek didn't want to be seen, his parent had taught him not to show himself in his animal form. He looked like a young wolf but he knew that even he, just like the rest of his family, wouldn't look like a wolf for much longer and would be more like a hybrid, who he actually was.

He heard a quiet sob which made him sharpen his senses. He gazed at the boy's face which was flooded by tears and suddenly felt a wave of sadness. He knew it wasn't his sadness; it was the boy's in red sweatshirt. Laura had always said he's something like a wolf empath.

He was thinking what to do for a while, whether to stay in safety of his cover or show himself. The decision didn't take much time and he was slowly getting closer to the scared kid who put a scared face on when he noticed him. He would have liked to slap himself now if he could have, he hadn't thought about the possibility of frightening the kid at all. He quickly bended his head down to show him that he didn't want to hurt him. Nothing happened for a while but in the end, the boy who could have been hardly six held out his hand and sadly smiled.

„Are you alone, too, dog?" he asked with his childish, quiet voice. Derek usually hated when someone called him dog, it was an insult, but he was aware that the boy didn't mean it in a bad way and was too small to recognize a dog from a wolf. He decided to let the name be and reached the kid.

„My name is Stiles, what's your name?" the boy in red continued. Derek wanted to tell him his name, but he couldn't, he couldn't change himself, he simply mustn't and  that's why he only quietly growled and lay on the boy's feet, He was sure he was cold.

"It's a pity you can't talk," small Stiles spoke again. "It would be so funny. But even though you can't talk and probably don't understand, I can talk to you, can't I?" he asked. Derek, to show agreement, nudged him with his muzzle which made the boy smile a bit.
"Dad is probably looking for me and I'm just making him worry," Stiles quietly whispered. "And he has so much work, with mom's funeral…" As soon as Stiles finished his sentence, he heard a quiet whine which was strange and so he scratched the dog lying on his feet behind the ears.
"But I'm lost," he continued. "I went too far in the forest. I don't know which way to go back…" There was hopelessness in his voice, he was starting to panic and Derek noticed. He stood up on his four paws and pulled the boy's sleeve to let him know he would guide him home.

Derek opened his eyes again. He almost forgot the night. That was the night he had met Stiles' father, who had been looking for his boy almost crazy from fear in the forest and his first reflex, when he saw the small boy in a wolf's company, was to aim the gun at the animal. But the boy in a red sweatshirt had stood in front of him as he was about to protect him with his own body.
He smiled weakly at that memory and turned to the direction where both young men were leaving. It's a pity you don't know who I am, Stiles, he thought and sign of pain appeared on his face. At that time, you were something like my friend. The only one I had beside my family. And now you're gone, just like them…