… Man, no, don’t ask me for feels right now, because all I can think about is Stilinski Family Feels, and you don’t want me to go there.
A long long time ago, I had started a kid!fic with Stiles and Claudia, and the frontotemporal dementia. I never finished. What I have is below. It isn’t beta’ed so, yeah. This is incomplete.
(also Stiles age is according to the eight years old headcanon, not the TW S5 age)
His dad had him sat down on the kitchen’s table, and sat on a chair, so they were more or less on eye level with each other. Stiles was excited and a little scared, partially because no one ever let him climb into the table and partially because his dad had told him that they needed to have a grown up talk.
At first Stiles thought that talk was going to be about the mug he had broken earlier, but it had been an accident really. His mom wasn’t around – sometimes she just wasn’t – and he really really wanted a cookie. The fact that he accidentally knocked his dad’s mug on the floor had been an unfortunate accident. And that Stiles had manage to hide all the tiny broken pieces was sheer luck. He was ready to defend himself and say he was sorry, really, but his dad wasn’t even aware of the mug. He didn’t even care.
That was the first time Stiles heard his mom was sick.
It took Stiles a long time to understand what it means. His poor seven years old mind couldn’t really wrap itself around the idea of a disease that was silent. His mom still looked like his mom, she didn’t have a fever or a running nose like Stiles did when he was sick. She was just herself, she still made him his favorite Nutella bread and packed his lunch for school.
Stiles liked school. At school he met Scott, a sweet boy with weird breathing that seemed to not mind Stiles incessant talking. And he liked Spiderman just as much as Stiles. He even had a Spiderman notebook, that Stiles was so jealous of.
“He’s the best, isn’t he?” Stiles said at one evening, eating his Oreos and stroking the cover of the notebook with reverence. Spiderman looked awesome mid-jump, web coming out of his extended wrist, with buildings in the background.
“He is. I like him a lot.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Scott paused for a moment, before opening his notebook at the sticker page. Stiles had been eyeing the stickers for a long time now, but he never asked because you just don’t ask your friend to mess with his perfect and untouched sticker page.
“Here,” Scott said before ripping the page away. Stiles screamed indignantly, but Scott just handed the page over to him, “you can have them.”
Stiles looked at Scott, mouth open. A bit of semi-chewed Oreos fell from his mouth.
“Yep. I have the notebook anyway; you keep the stickers. Just remember to give me some, I like them too.”
Stiles obviously did.
Soon enough they proclaimed that they were each other’s best friend and no one contested the fact, so they had that. Only a best friend gives away his sticker page.