Author:
trysloraTitle: Idiots All Along
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Stiles/Jackson
Character/s: Stiles, Jackson, Nikki (OFC), Lydia
Summary: Assumptions have always gotten them in trouble.
Warnings: past divorce, past character death (Lydia)
Word Count: 1,079 words
Prompt: #42 - Assumptions
Author's Notes: Had to be a part of the
All Our Yesterdays series with this prompt. As always, I do not own the world or characters of Teen Wolf, I’m just playing with them.
“Are you going to tell me why we’re in a graveyard?” Nikki asks. “Because honestly, it’s late, it’s a little cold, and I might be considering freaking out.”
“I assumed you wanted to meet your mom,” Stiles says blandly. “She can come to other places, but this is where she’s strongest, and if you want to talk to her yourself, this is where we’ll do it.”
“Whoa, what?” Nikki stops right there, hands on her hips. “Meet my mother. My actual dead mother.”
“It’s true.” Jackson puts his arm around their daughter’s shoulder, moves her forward slowly again. “This is where we came the other night. I didn’t know before that… it’s another secret your dad’s been keeping.”
“Throw me under the bus, why don’t you?” Stiles mutters.
Jackson rolls his eyes. “You’ve done a good job of putting yourself there. Why don’t you go ahead and get the mistletoe burning, let Lydia know we’re coming. She deserves a minute to catch her metaphysical breath and be ready for this.”
Nikki waits until Stiles heads off before she turns the full strength of her glare on Jackson. “Stop fighting. I’m not joking about this. The two of you-” She throws her hands up in the air, making an incoherent noise. “You are driving me insane. I feel like you need a parent. Papa, you’re at fault. Dad’s at fault. You are both idiots for making a zillion assumptions about what was going on and the worst part is you are still doing it. Why don’t the two of you just talk for once and get it all out and kiss and make up?”
I was telling them they were idiots long before you were born, dear.
Jackson is prepared for it, but Nikki stops talking, her mouth open in a small round O. She walks forward slowly, one hand held out, but doesn’t touch the apparition. Instead, she walks around Lydia carefully, looking at her from all sides.
When they tell you that you look like me, they aren’t lying.
“I can see that.” Nikki’s voice snaps sharply, and Jackson hears the nervous beat of her heart. “If you’ve been around since I was born, why haven’t we done this before?”
I asked them not to. I assumed you would be better off growing up normal.
“As if that’s possible. My best friend and boyfriend is a born wolf. His dad’s the True Alpha. It would have been really nice to know I was going to scream when people die.” Nikki rolls her eyes.
I thought you would never have to. We stopped the beacon.
“Except it didn’t stay broken.” Stiles stands behind her, leaning back against a gravestone. “Which is a topic for another time, when we’ve got some time to sit down and hash things out. We need to find a way to turn it off again, without anyone dying this time.”
Jackson gives Stiles a look, listening to the way his heart stutters. Lydia offers a small moue of disapproval at the same time.
We will definitely talk before you do anything stupid, Stiles. Your family needs you.
“I needed you,” Nikki tells her. “I needed my mother. I mean… I love them. I love Daddy and I love Papa, even when they’ve been idiots and even when they argued and even if they still can’t stand each other. And I want them there when I marry Caleb someday but that doesn’t mean I didn’t need you.” There are tears on her face, bright streaks of shine in the faint moonlight. Jackson inhales roughly, his hand flexing by his side.
I’m here now. I’ve always been here.
Stiles crooks his finger and Jackson steps back, out of the way. Neither Nikki nor Lydia seem to notice him leaving. Nikki barely nods when Stiles murmurs twenty minutes before leaving.
“We need to talk,” Stiles whispers. His hand brushes Jackson’s and somehow their fingers tangle as they move into the darkness to a point where Jackson can still hear Nikki and Lydia, but he can tune them out, not paying attention to the specifics of their conversation. After all this time, they deserve a little privacy.
“About which part in specific?” Jackson arches his eyebrows and gives Stiles a look. “All we’ve done is talk. And argue.”
“I didn’t mean to go off and almost get myself killed.” Stiles speaks quickly, as if the words might disappear before he can get them all out. “And I didn’t mean to get Lydia killed, and we didn’t mean to orphan Nikki, and before you ask, no, I really don’t know who Nikki’s father is. Lydia never told me, and she still won’t, and I don’t know why. She said it doesn’t matter, which means either he’s human, or he’s a wolf and since Nikki isn’t, it doesn’t exactly have any bearing on the present.”
He inhales, just a quick breath before he starts talking again. “And there’s a lot you need to know about the pack. We are larger than we used to be, and Derek’s not in charge, but you knew that since you’re talking to Allison. It’s just…”
His voice trails off and Jackson tries to figure out what Stiles will say next. Jackson’s mind fills in the voice with the usual options of anger… frustration… more assumptions (not to say that Jackson hasn’t made some of his own over the years). But his fingers are warm where Stiles is touching him, and he feels the slight squeeze of Stiles’s hand.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Stiles finally says, expression sober. “I’m glad you’re going to be staying in Beacon Hills, Jackson.” His free hand comes up between them. “Don’t think that means everything’s good between us.”
Jackson snorts. “Hardly.”
But it’s better. Things are definitely better. “Let’s try talking instead of jumping to conclusion,” he offers dryly.
“It’s going to be tough to change years of a behavior pattern, but sure, we can give that a try,” Stiles allows, smiling slightly. “If Nik doesn’t decide to kill us both over this.” His free hand flicks towards where Lydia and Nikki are still talking.
“I think she’ll forgive us.” Jackson turns slightly so that they stand shoulder to shoulder, touching along the points down their arms to the fingertips. He likes the warmth and the familiarity of it, and he’s content to stay there for the moment, watching his daughter in the darkness, as she talks to a ghost.