nativity ☆ teen wolf

twelve

☆ ☆ ☆

Stella's roared on Christmas Eve, hot chocolate orders going in and out as the cozy crowd spent quality time together.

Hope walked along the sidewalk in midtown Beacon Hills, absently looking up to the clock tower as she kept her hands pocketed. The wind was a little brisk, but it was a green Christmas for California.

Lydia and Kira clinked ceramic mugs together, laughing at Scott's impromptu toast. Most of the children were in sugar comas while their parents drank super-powered coffee to prepare for late night Santa missions for their kids.

Stiles absently ran his finger around the brim of his mug of mostly gone hot chocolate. He tried to enjoy his time, but he wanted to talk to Hope.

He'd done his research, and it had made sense, just like she said it would.

The table fell silent, Stiles' head snapping up as he heard his name. "What?"

"Feeling alright?" asked Melissa with a lifted eyebrow.

"Yeah," Stiles cleared his throat, "yeah, I'm good. Sorry, did I miss something?"

"We asked where Hope was," Stilinski said. "I've heard so much about her yet I haven't been able to meet her. I was hoping she'd be here."

Me too, thought Stiles. "I think she may stop by."

Scott angled his phone towards Stiles, a message written on his notes section.

Stiles glanced over as the others carried on a conversation, his expression changing. He quickly looked to the window, a figure sitting out on the bench in front of Stella's. Stiles cleared his throat, excusing himself by saying he'd left something in his Jeep. He slid his coat on as he headed towards the door, making it outside just as a couple walked in.

He recognized Hope easily, slowly walking around the bench and taking a seat next to her.

"Do you prefer green or white Christmases?" asked Hope aloud without looking at Stiles.

Stiles put his hands in his lap, watching the street decorated with holiday lights. "I think everyone prefers a white Christmas."

"The first Christmas wasn't white," Hope halfly said. "Until Santa came into the picture, no one really liked snow. The people who lived in the cold places thought it only got in the way of what they needed to do."

Stiles looked over to Hope, listening to her words. "It's a commercialized thing, but its turned into a trademark, don't you think?"

"Snow's a necessity," she replied quietly. "It makes you all so happy." Hope looked to Stiles for the first time since he'd sat.

"Felicity Heights," said Stiles as he held eye contact. "A synonym for Heaven."

Hope remained quiet, watching him as the new information began spilling from his lips.

"Sweet Leilani, meaning Heavenly Flower in Hawaiian." Stiles held their gaze, "Hatikva, Hebrew for Hope - the initial language of the bible. Ramiel, the-"

"Arch angel of hope," she finished for him in a soft voice. "My father."

"Is that what you are, or am I insane?"

"No," she said with a sigh, "you're not insane."

Stiles, although never doubting Hope, wanted to see more. "Show me."

Hope looked away from Stiles and up to the stars that glimmered high.

Slowly, the sky began to fill with white specks.

Stiles' eyes remained wide in surprise, watching millions of flakes drift down to earth. But a moment later, he looked over to Hope. "You didn't come here just t put on a Nativity play, did you?"

"I was there; the reenactment isn't something I do just for fun."

A grin cracked onto Stiles' lips, "Were you really?" His grin deepened once Hope gave him a light nod. But then another realization reach him. "Why would you come here of all places?"

"You all asked me to - in not so many words. I am Hope," she said as if she were repeating scripture, "for I help the Hopeless."

Stiles' expression softened, "You got here the day after Allison's funeral."

"You four called to me; your souls did." Hope stared at a snow flake resting on her palm, speaking softly. "I came with Thrammuel, my 'father'. We set up shop, trying to help you four and the town at the same time. So much has gone wrong here." She looked to Stiles as the snow flake melted into her skin, "I came to help you to all come to a point where you could move on. I just wasn't give enough time. I'm being forced to leave you all, without a feeling like I accomplished anything important."

"You've done more than you know, Hope," said Stiles.

"It just feels like it isn't enough."

"That's an incredibly human thing to say."

Hope looked over to Stiles, a tear slipping over her waterline. "You're all so much more broken than you show."

"Lots of people are broken, Hope. It's called being human."

"I know the broken can be fixed, but they need hope to do it," she told him in a near desperate voice. "If there is none, then they will only break until there's nothing left."

"If you don't think we're ready, then why are you being forced to leave?" asked Stiles.

"Ramiel isn't as compassionate as his title makes him appear. He doesn't understand," Hope explained. "He barely even spends time on Earth, much less with humans. He thinks a simple talking to would change a whole person around." She softly shook her head, "You're all so much more complicated than that."

"So, what if you stay? What if you go against Ramiel - rebel like most kids do to their parents?" Stiles leaned his elbows on his thighs, watching Hope instead of the snow piling up on the ground.

"Rebelling against Ramiel is to rebel against them all." Hope glanced to the clock tower. "I was already warned of what would happen. My father knows me better than I often care to think."

"What would happen if you didn't stay? If you went back now?"

"I'd feel terrible, but I would be among the others. Likely being called to more cases while worried about the sake of you and your town's well being."

Stiles watched Hope carefully, "And if you stayed in Beacon Hills?"

"I'll fall from grace."

Stiles' eyebrows immediately shot up, "Wait, you mean-"

"I would no longer be an angel, yes." She stared at the hands of the clock face. "And I have thirty minutes to decide."

"What are you going to do?" Stiles asked softly.

Hope kept her eyes on Stiles, snowflakes sticking gracefully to his eyelashes. "Hell if I know."

Stiles' eyebrows furrowed as Hope stood, "Where are you going?"

"I need to think," Hope replied.

Stiles rose to his feet, suddenly taller than Hope again. "If it changes your mind, I do mean what I said before. You do ft in here, Hope. And, if you decide to stay against all odds, know that we'd all be more than happy to have you."

Hope brushed a subtle tear from her face, going up on her toes and kissing Stiles on the cheek. She smiled meekly as she let go of him, seeming so small. Hope backed away, leaving Stiles standing in front of a snow glazed Stella's. As she walked, she spoke quietly to herself.

"I am Hatikva, angel of the Lord, and I have absolutely no idea what to do."