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Stiles being afraid of water was just another fact about him. Just like he had ADHD and a whole bunch of PTSD from all the shit they’ve gone through. But he’s been afraid of water the longest.
He’d been six, he and his mom were in the woods sometime in the summer. She was showing his some wild grown flowers and telling him stories of fairies. They’d walked deeper into the woods then they had planned. Following along the small river that divided the preserve. His mother had looked away from him, glaring at a small purple flower that was growing around a large tree. Stiles had slid down closer to the river, kneeling down to dip his fingers in the cold water. The next thing he knows he’s falling in and the current starts dragging him downstream. His small body may know how to swim but he can’t fight against the current that dips him under. In his panic, his mouth opens and water floods his lungs. He can hear his mom screaming his name and for help. Stiles doesn’t know who would hear her cries for help though. His head gets heavy and black spots start clouding his vision when something catches the collar of his shirt and drags him out of the water.
His mom is kneeling next to him calling his full name. Her warm hands are cupping his cheek begging him to breathe but his lungs won’t listen. Hands press hard against his chest and it hurts, he wants to push them off, tell them to stop but nothing comes out. The compressions push the water out of his body and he’s being helped to sit up. Water dripping from his lips as a couple more coughs shudder through him.
“Stiles! Oh, my baby!” Claudia is crying hysterically and wrapping her arms around him. He can feel her warm tears on the back of his neck and curls more into her body heat.
“Thank you.” She whispers over his shoulder. He turns to look and all he can see is blurry blue eyes as a pair of jean-clad legs walk away.
“Mama I don’t like the water no more.” Stile mumbles into her dress. Shivers rack his body even in the summer heat.
Claudia gives a watery laugh and nods into his neck. She scoops him up with little to no struggle. His legs rest on her hips and arms wrapped around her neck.
Stiles had stuck to his strict ban on water. He doesn’t take baths and always got doctors notes excusing him from when they had swim in PE. He avoids beach days with Scott and Allison, telling them he doesn’t want to third wheel them. After his mom died only his dad knew about his aversion to water and he'd be okay keeping it to just that one.
But then the kanima happened and Stiles hadn’t even hesitated to dive in after Derek. He had held the wolf up for two hours in the pool. Legs cramping and fingers numb from treading water. After Scott had come in and Erica had woken up, Stiles went straight home. Spent an hour in the shower scrubbing at the scent of chlorine clinging to his skin until the water ran cold and his skin was red. He can't stand the smell of chlorine after that.
They had all graduated from high school, surprisingly, alive. Then Derek and Scott had agreed on a pack bonding excursion to Jackson's family beach house. Stiles only has one panic attack as he packs his swim trunks. He won’t go in the water, doesn’t have to go into the water. It’ll be fine.
They get to the house on Thursday and plan to leave Monday night. The rooms are split up by couples first. Boyd and Erica get the first level bedroom. Jackson and Lydia are in the wolfs. Isaac, Scott, and Allison are in the master. Cora and Derek are sharing the other master, Peter has the pullout and Stiles in the last guest room by himself.
“Why are there so many rooms?” Isaac asks from where he’s sitting in the living room, Allison tucked into his side.
“My mom and dad do come from a line of werewolves.” Jackson frowns at the other beta.
“Oh yeah.” Isaac hums and nods his head absentmindedly.
Stiles comes out with a plate of sandwiches and walks around letting the members all grab them. When the plates empty he goes back to the kitchen and dumps the plate in the sink and eats his own sandwich. Peter is leaning against the back door staring out at the ocean. He keeps glancing back at Stiles with a thoughtful look.
“Stop looking at me, creeper.” Stiles mumbles around a mouthful of sandwich.
He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and shoves past Peter to sit on the futon on the deck. He ends up falling asleep once he’s done the sandwich. Water bottle placed under the futon to keep out of the sun, body curled on the round cushions. Lydia wakes him up after an hour, his arms and legs pink.
Stiles covers himself in aloe before joining the pack out on the beach for the bonfire Boyd and Isaac had built. The sun setting over the water and cold beers pressed into the sand. It was, nice, was the word that came to mind. It was easy for them. Stiles looked around at their little rag-tag group. Everyone was relaxed and laughing and talking. His eyes drifted over them all, slowly, settling on Derek. The alpha was reclined in a beach chair. His bare feet buried in the sand, fingers curled loosely around the neck of a beer. He has a small smile on his face as he watches Erica and Isaac wrestling in the sand. Boyd eventually steps in to separate the two before they actually hurt each other.
“We’re doing a beach day tomorrow.” Lydia proclaims as they extinguish the fire and head back to the house.
Stiles lets out a shaky breath and tries to keep his heart from beating too fast. Isaac and Scott side eye him, the later giving him a questioning look. If anyone else noticed his reaction they don’t say anything about it.
The next day is nice, the sun is out but there’s a slight breeze. The beach isn’t overly crowded yet for a Friday afternoon. Lydia and Allison pick the spot and they section off their own area. The girls plus Isaac and Jackson set up chairs close to the water. Boyd and Scott put up two large umbrellas that they had to dig into the ground. Derek dragging a large cooler with drinks and their lunch, sits it under one of the umbrellas. Peter lays out a towel next to the cooler and pulls a book out of nowhere and gets comfortable.
They all settle into their own spots. Allison and Lydia with timers set to evenly suntan. Isaac and Scott spending most of their time in the water with Cora and Jackson joining them every once in a while. Stiles mans his chair under the other umbrella watching the pack enjoy themselves. The farther from the water he is the happier he stays.
“Stiles! Come in the water with us!” Scott calls right before a wave takes him under. He pops back up laughing and wiping seawater from his eyes.
“I’m good!” Stiles calls back with a smile and a wave. His heart gives a painful thud at the idea of going in and he takes a calming breath. Scott looks like a kicked puppy but then Jackson tackles him into the surf.
Stiles calls everyone back to the umbrellas an hour later to hand out more sandwiches and fruit and chips. Water bottles throw with yells of keeping hydrated. Erica laughs and calls him mom, Stiles bats her hand away from his pineapple with a laugh. Stiles finds himself looking back over at Derek who is sitting next to a sleeping Peter on his own towel. Same small smile as the night before. His shoulders relaxed and crinkles next to his eyes. After they finish eating, Stiles collects their trash and walks a couple feet to the right to dump it into the trash can. He walks back and Scott, Isaac, Jackson, and Cora are all standing waist deep in the water smirking up the coastline. Stiles shakes his head and goes to sit in his seat when arms scoop him up and over a shoulder. He’s met with the backs of Erica’s pale thighs and her striped bikini bottoms.
“Erica! Put me down!” Stiles yells. His hands scramble to grab at her waist as she laughs.
She walks them past where Lydia and Allison are laughing in their chairs and waving at him. Her feet hit wet sand and Stiles heartbeat triples. His breathing quickens and he squeezes at her waist again yelling for her to put him down again.
God, he’s gonna drown again.
“Erica don’t!” Stiles hears Peter yell from the umbrellas.
Erica doesn’t even pause, she’s knee deep in the water, Stiles can feel it splashing against his hands. His eyes are staring into the dark water and he can feel his heart in his throat. His body is already tensed but Erica doesn’t realize his fear over the whoops and calls of Jackson and Isaac. She grabs at his waist and throws him into a wave. He’s six years old again and under the water not able to get a breath of air. But just as soon as he’s completely submerged there are arms hooking under his shoulders and dragging him up. He still isn’t breathing and this might be worse than any panic attack he’s had. Whoever pulled him out drags him until the sand is no longer wet and crowds against his back.
“You’re okay. You're not in the water anymore. You’re fine, you can breath.” Stiles takes a shaky breath after recognizing Peter’s voice.
He can feel Peter’s heartbeat through his back, a comforting arm wrapped around his chest and anchoring him. He coughs on his next breath and curls his fingers around Peter’s wrist. Breaths going shaky as his eyes cloud over with tears. He curls in on himself, taking Peter with him. The wolf wraps Stiles in a towel and starts rubbing his arms either in comfort or an attempt to dry him, either way, Stiles appreciates the hell out of it.
“What happened?” Scott asks a little breathless and hunched over.
Stiles keeps his head down, fingers still clinging to Peter’s wrist, the other grabbing the towel. He can see the shadows of most of the pack members surrounding them.
“Erica he told you to put him down.” Peter frowns at the blonde who already looks guilty.
“I thought he just didn’t want to take his shirt off in front of us.” She offers lamely. Boyd next to her with an arm around her shoulders.
“You should have been able to sense how scared he was. I could all the way up the beach.” Peter scolds her again and this time she doesn’t answer.
“Why’s he scared of the water?” Jackson asks in a flat tone. Neither too curious nor too caring.
“He almost drowned when he was six.” Peter leaves them with that.
He doesn’t bother asking if the human can walk on his own. He keeps the towel wrapped around Stiles and lifts him up in a bridal hold. Stiles is reminded of his mother in that moment and he tucks his face into the hollow of Peter’s neck. Taking comfort in pack. Peter carries him back to the house and into the bathroom. He sets the teen down on the toilet seat and grabs more towels from the linen closet.
“Shower. You’ll feel better.” Peter places the towels down on the sink and closes the door behind him.
Stiles eventually gets himself in the shower. Leaves his wet clothes in the corner of the tub and scrubs away the salt and sand. His arm pricks red from how hard he scrubs with the luffa. A knock on the bathroom door draws him out of his thoughts and he realizes his body is shivering from how cold the water now is.
He gets himself out and dried off. Darting down the hall to his room and locking it behind him. Pulling on a soft tee shirt and a pair of loose basketball shorts. He curls up in bed. Pulling the down sheet up around his chin and breathing through his residual panic. Stiles dozes off in a light sleep, only waking when his door is pushed open and soft purples from the sunset fill the room. He pushes up into a sitting position and rubs the sleep from his eyes. Erica is standing at the foot of his bed, eyes downcast and arm wrapped around her middle.
“Stiles I’m really sorry.” She whispers out, loud enough for him to hear.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.” Stiles smiles at her when she looks up at him, an answering smile spreads across her face.
She crawls up the bed and leans into his side. She curls her arms into his chest and rubs her cheek against the ball of his shoulder. They sit like that until Lydia comes and gets them for dinner. The pack had ordered out, a spread of chinese food and pizza across the island in the kitchen. Derek presses a plate into his hands loaded up with two slices of pineapple pizza and general tso’s chicken and white rice.
“Oh, you’re my new favorite.” Stiles hums as he grabs a fork off the island and shuffles into the living room. He plops down next to Peter on the floor as one of the Harry Potter movies starts playing.
He knows the pack did all this on purpose, all of his favorites to make him feel better. Honestly, that nap was all he needed but it feels good to know they care about him. Derek sits down on the chair behind him and eats his food in silence. Once everyone is stuffed and dozing between sleep and half-awareness, Derek’s hand drifts down and into Stiles' hair. He plays with the short strands until Stiles falls asleep full, happy and feeling loved.
Stiles knows he probably won’t ever get over his fear of water and the pack understands that. They're more careful in the future when planning pack activities and inviting him places. Derek tells him that if he ever wants to work on his phobia he’s there and if not that’s fine too. It’s sweet and Stiles changes the alpha’s contact name from Sourwolf to Sweetwolf.
He also works the truth out of Peter on how he knew Stiles was scared of the water. Wouldn’t you know he’s the one who pulled Stiles from the river when he was six. Had heard Claudia screaming from where he was doing a border check and had run to pull Stiles out, resuscitating him and all. It’s weird thinking that he wouldn’t be alive today without Peter Hale. But the thought settles easily and the nickname ‘creeper’ falls out of Stiles vocabulary.