Work Text:
Dear Derek,
By the time you read these words, I’ll be long gone. I know this is like a horrible start for a letter, but it’s the only way I could start. This letter will be delivered to you 5 minutes after I went missing, and, yes while you are reading this, I’m nowhere to be found, but please, keep reading and you’ll understand, or maybe not, but I hope you will.
As I said, I went missing 5 minutes ago but you are not going to find me, at least not alive because I travelled back in time, to 1929. I know what I’m telling you, doesn’t make sense but neither do werewolves and there you are.
I don’t even know what exactly happened but after a while, I discovered I couldn’t go back, I was stuck there. When you are living in 1929, everything is different but I’m not going to bore you with little details about it.
I wanted you to know that I lived well, that I was very happy. I found a beautiful girl and I married her, we had three children and I named the older one after you. I told them stories about the wolves in California that howled in the night to the full moon, I told them about the pack and the monsters we defeated, they’ve grown up great and I wish you’d take the time to meet them. If I’m not wrong they’d be somewhere in North California, there aren’t that many Stilinskis out there.
And talking about that, my father is still there, so you’ll need to cover me on this, I know you’ll find something to tell him and the pack.
Also do something else for me, don’t be alone. Find someone that loves you as you deserve to be loved because I won’t be there anymore to take care of you and you need someone, you’ve always needed someone.
I think this is the end, Derek, my last words for you. Please leave well and be happy as I have been and don’t forget to smile.
I love you.
Stiles
Derek looked up from the letter, tears threatening with coming out of his eyes. It couldn't be possible, those things just didn't happen, but it was happening, the paper between his hands was old and a scent similar to Stiles' lingered on it, it was spicier, older, it smelled like Stiles but it didn't make sense.
Derek reread the letter and entering his car, he headed to the library. Four hours later he was sitting on the Camaro outside a little house, somewhere in north California, doubting if he should knock or go back to Beacon Hills and never try again, but then it has almost been Stiles last will and he actually wanted to do it even if he was terrified, even if Stiles’ son, Derek, reminded himself, was identical to his father.He wouldn't be able to handle it, to see Stiles and not being able to have him.
He got out of his car and walked to the door. He stood there not sure whether he should knock or not, but he wasn't given the chance. After a couple of minutes, the door was opened by a man with big brown eyes and a bright smile:
- You must be Derek, come in, my father is waiting for you.
Derek was confused but didn't hear a lie on the man's heart. The man on his mid-forties let him inside and leaded the way to a crowded living room. When he entered, everybody stopped talking to look at him. An old man, sitting on an armchair stood up and walked until he was in front of Derek. It was like looking at Stiles himself, but much older and with white hair.
- Welcome to the Stilinski household Derek. My name is Derek and I may or may not be named after you. - He said, his face breaking into a smile and the chattering of the room coming into life again. - Sit with me and let me tell you about how happy my parents were and how my father missed you every day of his life.
Derek smiled softly at the old man and sat with him, wanting to know how had been the life of the only person he had ever loved.