Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

New York isn’t as bad as Stiles thought it would be. Sure, it’s a little cramped, and the buildings will make you feel like a blip in the scheme of things, but it’s still a nice city despite its flaws. It’s a reprieve from the blandness that is Beacon Hills, and for that, Stiles revels in it.

“You seem to like New York,” Scott jokes as he helps Stiles with some of his bags.

“Only a little,” Stiles murmurs as he sets his tote onto the guest bed that Scott is letting him use during his stay here, “I’m sure that my opinion of this place will change the longer I stay here.”

Scott laughs, “Yeah, I was struck with wanderlust myself for a while, but it’ll wear off after a few days… Speaking of which, how long are you gonna be here?”

“Depends on when my dad calls me and tells me he needs me back home.”

“He’s getting worse, isn’t he?”

Stiles frowns softly at the thought of his father, “I don’t know… The doctor says that his heart is doing fine and that he’s not having any issues with his oxygen or circulation, but… I worry about him.”

Scott nods, “Yeah, man, I understand… I’m surprised he’s doing as well as he is.”

“Yeah, getting shot numerous times in the chest while on duty tends to make it that way.”

The alpha besides Stiles sighs, “So, you don’t have any work to do while you’re up here, do you?”

Stiles shakes his head, “No, I made sure I was caught up before I left.”

“Sure, but I know you, buddy. If something catches your eye, you take a thousand pictures of it until you’re satisfied.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles rolls his eyes lightly, “Anyways, do you wanna go out? I’ve been itching to explore since the plane landed.”
Scott nods and grabs his coat, “Yeah man, come on.”

The city is a sprawling thing that somehow manages to have its own life about it, even though it’s inanimate, truthfully. With as many people that bustle about and the cars that clog the roads, the city is always moving – always alive and never still. It’s the exact opposite of Beacon Hills, and for that, Stiles prances about with a bounce in his step. Scott laughs at him for it as they get onto a bus, but Stiles lugs it off. After all, he’s probably only going to be here for a few days before his father will need him back home again. There’s only so much time he’ll have to enjoy the city and all of its sights and sounds.

“So,” Scott says as he takes a seat near the back of the locomotive, “what do you want to do first?”

“I was interested in knowing about the stores here,” Stiles murmurs as he fiddles with his camera – something of which he always brings with him, “I’ve been needing some new clothes and I thought it would be cool to get a few things while I was here. Dad was kind of tired of me getting generic t-shirt packets from Wal-Mart. He said it isn’t like me to be plain like that.”

Scott snorts and smiles as he looks out of the window he’s sitting next to, “It really isn’t. I was used to you wearing graphic stuff since you knew what they were referencing. Seriously, it’s so strange to see you in something other than a Marvel shirt. You wanna hit a strip mall or something?”

Stiles nods, “Yeah… Maybe we could go to the park later, too. I’d like to get a few pictures of the trees with the buildings behind them. I think it’ll clash nicely.”

“You and your photo nerd stuff…” the alpha laughs, and they continue their bus ride in silence.

A few bags and receipts that make Stiles’ wallet wince a little, he and Scott end up going back to the apartment so they can put the bags away. It leaves the omega a little tuckered out, because in New York, you walk almost constantly. It’s like Scott can mall-walk circles around him while Stiles is left panting for air.

“You’ll get used to it after some time,” Scott chuckles as Stiles flops over onto his bed, “but in the end, your calves will be amazing.”

Stiles waves a hand, “Yeah, yeah, whatever… Just- let me lie here until I can feel my lower body, okay?”

“Well, we wouldn’t get to go to club, then…”

“What?”

Scott hums and shakes his head as he begins to leave the room, “Nothing, just- you wouldn’t want to go anyways…”

“Uh, dude. I may have changed a little since my dad, but I seriously could never pass up the chance of going to party.”

The alpha rolls his eyes softly, “Now there’s the Stiles that annoyed me as I grew up.”

“Shut up, you loved it and you still do. Now come on, I’m ready to go party my little ass off.”

One of the biggest problems with having a sick parent and getting slammed with project deadlines is that you never get a break. There’s no time to let off some steam, because you’re going to spend every waking moment worrying over the fact of your father having issues with his blood pressure again or if the lighting on this image is too much even for your laid back photography teacher. It means that Stiles is always wound up tight – like a string that’s been twisted in one direction far too much without having the chance to unwind the tension it’s been put under for however long. It means that Stiles is fraying a little, and he’s desperate to relax before he ends up snapping or breaking.

It means that, even though Stiles has always been one for a party, that he’s being a little risky with it. Usually, ever since his dad needed him to be there almost twenty-four-seven after his injuries healed as best as they could, Stiles would go out with Scott to The Jungle and have a few drinks. He wasn’t really a stick in the mud like he was now, but having your father nearly die and depend on you ultimately afterwards can do that to you. So, while he would avoid partying and getting drunk in case of a hangover impeding his ability to foster medications and help his dad move about without straining himself, he decides to let go just this once.

It’s why he puts on some of his new clothes and makes sure he doesn’t look “plain” or “generic” like before, and heads out of Scott’s apartment with a slight gleam to his eye. He just – he hasn’t felt this way since a few months after senior year. It’s like a reprieve – like a muscle that’s spent the last moments cramping finally releasing – and Stiles revels in it.

“I can tell that you’re excited,” Scott murmurs with a smirk as he pushes the ground floor button on the elevator’s panel, “I haven’t seen you like this in forever.”

“I know, I know… It’s been a while since I’ve really gotten to be me, okay? I feel liberated. Let me enjoy it.”

Scott shakes his head lightly, “You know, I always thought about going back to Beacon Hills and snatching you away, man… You’re too weighted there. It’s like you’re never unshackled anymore.”

That dampens Stiles’ mood a little, “Well, my dad needs me now- more than ever… I just don’t have some internship to whisk me away to New York like you.”

“I could get you one here, if you seriously wanted it,” Scott suggests softly.

“Yeah, but who’s gonna take care of my dad then?”

The point makes the alpha quiet for a moment, “I- You could always put him in a nursing home… You know he wouldn’t want to keep you shut in if you wanted to live your life.”

Stiles presses his lips together tightly, rubbing his wrist a little as he does so, but he doesn’t want to say anything else.

“He loves you, Stiles. He probably hasn’t said it, but… you never go out like you used to. You don’t act like the Stiles I grew up with as a kid… I understand that things changed and that you had to step up to the plate, but eventually anyone will get tired of just batting away after a while. You just need something that can give you the shot to run like you need to.”

Seriously, how long is this elevator ride going to last, and how does Scott know about baseball euphemisms that are somewhat even accurate?

“Your dad always wanted you to be happy, Stiles, no matter what. You know that better than anyone. He wouldn’t want you to be stuck there like you are.”

The elevator doors open, and Stiles enjoys the new setting immensely as he tries to forget Scott’s sincere words.

By the time that they get to the club, Stiles’ skin is crawling and his heart is thudding wildly in his chest. The sound of muffled music makes him twitch as he and Scott wait in line, making a few people eye him weirdly as they shuffle along slowly towards the door.

“Dude, did you seriously bring your camera with you?” Scott scolds on a whisper as Stiles messes with the small bag it’s inside of.

“I wanted to get a few shots that are nice, okay?” he hisses quietly, “It’s not every day you get to capture the life of a party like this.”

Scott rolls his eyes, “Whatever. Just make sure that you don’t have the flash on. Shit’s annoying and will get you thrown out.”

“Duly noted.”

Scott looks like he’s about to say something else, but he’s cut off by the loud rumble of what seems to be numerous motorcycles pulling up. It makes the two friends scowl while other people begin to murmur about in the line just as the riders pull up to park all in one car spot.

“Isn’t that illegal here?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t know, but even if I did, I wouldn’t say anything…”

“Why?” Stiles frowns.

Scott sighs, “Well, um, since you’re not a local, they make one exception, if that, but… That right there’s Wolfsbane.”

“What?”

Scott sighs again, “They’re a motorcycle gang here in New York, and they’re made up of only werewolves. Most of them are betas that function under an alpha, just like a real pack of wolves would. It’s all strict and serious and they don’t fuck around. Just- stay away from them and you’ll be fine.”

“I have no interest in getting involved with a gang member, Scott.”

Stiles says that, and yet, that’s when he sees him.

His motorcycle is in front of the others – all sleek chrome and black metal – as he puts the kickstand down. A hand runs through his somewhat styled sex-hair as he surveys the scene with irises that Stiles can’t begin to describe. His face is set into a scowl, as though he doesn’t like what he sees, that is, until his eyes land on Stiles.

Now, Stiles knows that he isn’t really anything special. Sure, he’s an omega, but he takes a shit ton of suppressants to make sure he never goes into heat in case his father needs him. His scent is practically muffled to Scott and any other alpha that’s scented him, so he knows that it’s not obvious that he’s supposed to leak slick and beg for a knot every month. Even then, he wears slightly thick-rimmed black glasses with flannel over shirts and baggy jeans ninety percent of the time. He’s been told that his moles work for him, as does his nose, but it’s nothing that you’d end up lustfully slobbering over when you noticed him.

But apparently that’s not the case with this dude.

He smiles and winks at Stiles – something altogether that’s got a hint of wicked playfulness and spice – as he walks past him and Scott, straight into the club with his biker friends. It sets Stiles’ already anxious heart into overdrive, and he’s panicking a little as Scott groans quietly beside him.

“Oh my god, of course- of course you’d sit there and catch Derek Hale’s eye…”

“W-What?” Stiles asks as he jerkily glances over to his friend.

A hand runs over Scott’s face as he speaks, “Derek Hale, the supposed alpha of the Wolfsbane Gang. He’s notorious for hooking up with omegas. He’s just- he’s not good for you. Maybe we should leave-“

“No!” Stiles blurts, making a few heads turn his way, so he softly adds, “Scott, we’ve waited about thirty minutes in line. We’re not going to abandon ship now!”

Scott shakes his head, “Stiles, Derek’s bad news just by himself. If he’s interested in you he doesn’t stop until he gets to have you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not that special. I bet you one whiff could tell him that I’ve never done anything- even with the suppressants mucking it up.”

The alpha beside him laughs without the humor, “Stiles, he prefers to deflower virgins.”

“Oh… But still, Scott, I don’t want to leave just because some big bad alpha happens to look my way. If he does anything, I’ll just turn him down gently and we’ll go about our business, okay?”

Scott rolls his eyes as the bouncer finally lets them in, “Sure. Let’s see just how well that game plan works out with him.”

The inside of the club is packed with people and a vibe that gets Stiles’ blood boiling almost instantly. The music is infectious, because Stiles and Scott instantly slide into the mass that is the crowd of people dancing in front of whatever DJ the club booked for the night. The smell of alcohol and various scents permeate the air, making each lungful feel exciting and refreshing in a way that the last one just wasn’t.

Lights flash – heads bang – Stiles dances.

His eyes slip closed for just a moment as he lets himself fall into rhythm with the beat of the song, his hips swaying with the beat and his lips spread in a wide smile. Scott laughs beside him, obviously having lost his wariness from before, as he shifts and parties alongside Stiles. People are chanting lyrics that Stiles doesn’t know at the top of their lungs while the air practically vibrates with the beat.

“Stiles!” Scott bumps his friend lightly, making him open his eyes, “Stiles, we need to leave-“

“Why!?” Stiles shouts to be heard above the music – just barely, even, “We just got here, man!”

Scott looks constipated as he talks, “Stiles, I just- we can come back another night, but come on, we can’t stay here any longer-“

Stiles is about to ask why when he feels someone tap his shoulder, which makes him scowl, because rude. He’s obviously having a conversation here. In fact, he’s just about to tell this asshole that he needs to go back to wherever he came from, but his words die in his throat when he turns to see the one and only, from what Scott told him, Derek Hale smiling at him.

That only makes Stiles’ brain short-circuit, honestly.

His mouth flounders for a bit, but he shakes his head with a small bit of blush tinting his cheeks when he squeaks out, “H-Hi.”

“Hi there,” Derek says, and god – his voice isn’t what Stiles expected with the whole ripped denim and leather jacket look, “I might be mistaken, but I believe that you were in the line earlier waiting to get in?”

Stiles can practically feel Scott’s glaring eyes boring into the back of his head as he stutters again, “I- I was, yeah… What a-about it?”

If anything, Derek’s smile grows in size and intensity, “I was just wondering if you wanted a drink or something. I’ll pay, of course.”

“I’m not here to get drunk,” Stiles hangs his head a little.

“Then how about we go talk a little instead?” Derek suggests as he tilts his head, moving back a little to gesture towards some private booths that Stiles hadn’t even noticed before.

Stiles is about to answer when Scott does for him, “We were just about to leave.”

That makes Derek frown a little, “Surely you could spare a moment?”

“I-“

“We don’t have a moment. I’m sorry,” Scott rushes out as he grabs Stiles’ hand in an attempt to pull Stiles away.

However, before Scott can make any progress, fate decided to strike, because Scott apparently sees something he likes. It’s some girl, over by the bar, with flowing chocolate hair and dimples that perk when she sips from her drink. Stiles can tell that the moment Scott sees her he’s smitten, and he doesn’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing when he stops right in his tracks.

“On second thought, our plans changed,” Scott rushes out, and he looks at Stiles and hurriedly whispers to him in his ear, “That’s the girl I was telling about.”

“The one that you work across from?” Stiles asks.

Scott nods excitedly, “Yeah, Allison’s her name. Uh, look, I hope you don’t mind, but I never get the chance to talk to her because of our hours and-“

“Just go for it,” Stiles smiles, and he pushes Scott away gently in the direction of the girl he’s been apparently pouring his heart out about to Stiles over the phone for the past month or so.

Stiles is shaking his head and chuckling softly until a certain throat clears itself.

“Oh,” Stiles turns back to Derek, “I, uh, sorry about that…”

“It’s fine,” Derek is back to smiling now, “So how about that talk of ours?”

Stiles thinks it over for a moment.

“Maybe I’d rather dance,” he murmurs, and he begins to turn to go back to the mosh pit that is the dance floor.

A hand grabs Stiles’ arm again, but this time he freezes and turns to look at its owner. Derek’s face is set into that scowl again, and he looks straight at Stiles as he speaks.

“Do you want to dance together?”

Sure, dancing by himself would surely be more awkward, and he is supposed to be letting himself relax and let go tonight…

“I guess,” he murmurs, but it’s still enough to make Derek smile brightly again.

Derek grabs Stiles’ hand and leads him over to the dance floor, which normally would’ve taken Stiles a few minutes of slinking about, but the people apparently know who he is and part as though they formed the ocean and he was Moses himself. It makes Stiles a little nervous, but he feels a little bit better when they enclose around them, despite being mindful about distance.

“Why do they do that?” Stiles asks as a new song begins to start up, and he and Derek begin to shuffle a little as they wait for it to build up enough to do anything else.

“I’m kinda known here,” Derek grins again, just enough to crinkle his eyes ever so slightly, “I’m guessing that you aren’t, though?”

Stiles shakes his head, “No, I’m here on vacation.”

That makes the alpha’s mouth widen, “Oh really? Where are you from?”

“A small town in California. You wouldn’t know it.”

“Hm, you may be wrong. I’m originally from Cali myself.”

That eases a little of Stiles’ tension, “No shit?”

“Yeah,” Derek nods and slinks a little closer to Stiles as the beat becomes more solid and apparent, “from a small little town, no less.”

“Where?”

Derek takes another small move forward, “Beacon Hills.”

Stiles completely stop dancing, “You serious?”

“Why would I lie about that?” Derek asks seriously, frowning and furrowing his brow at Stiles.

“I don’t know.”

Derek just huffs a small laugh then and continues to dance, but a little slower this time, “You’re strange.”

“So I’ve been told.”

The alpha rolls his eyes playfully, “You’re friend over there… He your alpha?”

If Stiles were drinking like Derek offered to do earlier, he either would’ve chocked or spit out his drink, “Dude, no. He and I are practically brothers. We grew up together. I could never- that’s just-“ Stiles face scrunches up at the image his traitorous mind supplies him with.

Apparently his expression must be idiotic if nothing else, because Derek laughs at him, “Oh, I see. It’s just that usually alphas are only ever protective of their mates.”

“Nah,” Stiles waves a dismissive hand in the shrinking space between himself and the alpha in front of him, “Scott’s always been like a big brother in a lot of ways, despite everything else.”

“Scott,” Derek echoes for a moment, and he glances at the guy in question from where he’s more than likely to flirt his way into his coworker’s heart and or jeans, before he returns his gaze back to Stiles, “Care to tell me your name?”

“Stiles.”

Derek grins, “Stiles… Well, I’m guessing that your friend already filled you in on who I am.”

“A little,” the omega replies, and he notices that a lot of people are eyeing him with Derek.

“I’m quite the superstar here,” Derek murmurs, sounding much closer than before, making Stiles jerk his head to find Derek in his personal space as two hands place themselves on Stiles’ hips, “It’s what happens when you get close to a lot of people.”

Stiles laughs a little nervously as Derek moves him in sync with the light thrusts of his hips, “Yeah… close.”

Derek shrugs, seemingly uncaring for the hold he has on Stiles, “So, Stiles, what are your plans for your stay here in the amazing and awe-inspiring city of New York City?”

“I-“ Stiles pauses as Derek swivels his hips a little more against his own, “I was just going to relax a little… Let go of some stress…”

“I know a few good ways to do that,” he murmurs and two curious thumbs poke their way past the hem of Stiles’ new skinny jeans.

Stiles gapes for a moment, and his eyes meet Derek’s in a split second of shock before he’s abruptly pulled against Derek completely. The alpha purrs softly, and one hand comes up to brush Stiles’ cheek. He must be pathetic, because the moment that Derek’s hand caresses his face, Stiles just whines softly and leans into it without thinking.

“Something tells me you want to know what I do,” Derek’s words are gruffer in their delivery this time around, and Stiles shivers as he feels the length of what seems to be Derek’s cock pressing against his thigh hotly.

Stiles has to take a moment, because seriously, how is this happening to him of all people? Not only that, he’s never done this, and his mind is just so high off of Derek alone and-

Derek sniffs along Stiles’ neck and smiles, “You wanna get out of here, Stiles?”

Without thinking, he just nods, because his body is always a step ahead of his brain, somehow.

Still, Derek smiles and leads Stiles away once again, and soon enough, Stiles finds himself right in front of the motorcycle that Derek had gotten off earlier. His eyes are a little wide at how Derek just easily slips onto it like a natural, and he’s left standing there like a horny idiot as Derek puts the kickstand back into place.

“You gonna get on?”

“I’ve-“ Stiles rubs absently at his arm, “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”

Derek grins, “You’re just full of a bunch of firsts, aren’t you?”

“I guess…”

The alpha nods to behind him, “Just get on, Stiles. I’ll make sure that you won’t get hurt or anything.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Stiles warily eyes the bike for a moment, “Okay…”

He must be stupid or just plain insane to get onto the motorcycle with Derek after being warned numerous times about him, but he can’t stop himself. Not with this urge in his gut and that pleading look hidden in Derek’s gaze. It gets Stiles thinking about that stubble rubbing his face as they make out and how Derek’s hair will feel against his fingertips.

In short, Stiles gets on because he wants this just as much as Derek does, consequences be damned.

So that’s what he does.

He slips onto the end of the bike and settles himself directly behind Derek. The alpha is already grabbing his black helmet and smiles when Stiles looks confused.

“I told you, I won’t let you get hurt,” Derek says again as he grabs for a helmet from one of his buddy’s handlebars, “Wear this.”

Stiles scowls at the smell of sweat and what seems like pent up beta-angst, but he decides that it’s much better than a broken neck or cranium. He slips on the red helmet and leans back against Derek once more.

“Ready,” he shakes out, and his adrenaline peaks as he feels the engine vibrate to life underneath him.

Derek rides like he talks, all smooth and easy. Stiles doesn’t feel as nervous as he thinks he should be, because he actually ends up relaxing against Derek’s back as he drives the bike about New York. It actually has Stiles feeling like he hasn’t in ages, and he ends up somehow slipping his camera out of its bag to snap quick shots of the city that never sleeps in motion.

Eventually, though, the city gives way to smaller buildings, and then eventually trees and grass that Stiles never expected to be here. It’s a little weird, considering he thought that New York was nothing but tarmac and concrete, but the few pictures he gets of the streetlights leading to the heart of the city are pretty awesome, so he’s not really complaining.

Derek ends up turning off onto a smaller road, and then onto another that doesn’t even have curbs. It leads them to a small woody area that’s completely deserted except for the few streetlamps that dimly light the four-parking spot parking lot area and a tree that towers over at least half of. It’s the strangest thing – like Derek knew that this small part of the most crowded city ever would be secluded just for them. Still, Derek ends up parking his bike and turning it off as he removes his helmet.

“So, Stiles, you enjoy the ride?”

“Yeah,” Stiles murmurs as he gladly removes the helmet lent out to him, “it was nice, surprisingly.”

Derek gets off of his motorcycle to look at Stiles, “You’d be surprised at what’s good once you try it.”

Stiles begins to rolls his eyes and bag his camera, that is, until Derek stops him.

“You like photography?”

Stiles blushes a little, “Y-Yeah…”

“Can I see it?”

Stiles’ head shoots up, “W-What?”

“The camera, can I see it?”

Stiles looks down at his camera and ponders it for a moment, “Be careful, that’s my child you’re going to be holding.”

Derek snorts and rolls his eyes, but his hands are careful as he goes to carry the camera, “You ever take pictures of yourself?”

“No. It’s mostly things that just catch my eye… Why?”

“I was just wondering,” Derek murmurs.

Stiles huffs and moves to put the helmet Derek lent him onto the handlebar when he hears a familiar shutter click from off to the side.

Stiles pivots in milliseconds to glare at Derek, “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“Something caught my eye,” Derek smirks, and he brings Stiles’ camera up to his face, “Come on, now pose for me.”

“Derek-“

Derek tsks and looks at Stiles over the top of the camera, “Pose.”

It’s in a husky voice that Sex Ed taught Stiles to recognize as an alpha’s voice. What the y didn’t tell him, however, was how affective it was. Without so much as thinking, Stiles drops against the length of Derek’s bike and whines.

A pleased rumble escapes Derek, and he snaps a few photos before he comes forward to Stiles. He’s still plastered against the length of the seat until Derek physically rearranges him. His eyes are glowing red in the dark – stark and bright and illuminating the planes of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose – as he begins to pull the collar of Stiles’ Hulk tee down to expose his the curves of his clavicle.

Another snap.

Stiles is softly panting as he feels Derek’s hand on him, moving his shirt more and more to expose more skin to the night are and the scope of his camera, and the feeling and thought has Stiles stiffening in his jeans that still smell like the department store they came from. A low, resounding growl comes from Derek as he keeps posing Stiles and taking pictures, some of which that have his hand against Stiles’ skin either tracing trails between his various beauty marks. It makes Stiles feel hot in ways he never has before, and as Derek steps over the rear fender of his bike, he feels himself spreading his legs across the seat.

“God you look great,” Derek says as the shutter snaps again, “all spread out for me like this.”

“D-Derek,” Stiles gasps out, and he grabs at the alpha as the burning in him peaks, “Come on.”

Derek grins, “You smell so good, babe. At first I thought you were taking suppressants, but jeez, you definitely smell like you’re in heat now.”

A wet feeling begins to seep its way between Stiles’ legs, and he gasps at the feeling he’s never experienced except for when he initially presented. It has Stiles trying to regain the ability to use his brain, because for a moment, pure panic begins to settle itself right against his rib cage.

Stiles gasps for a moment, “I- Derek, I think I really am i-in heat…”

Derek pauses, and leans down to sniff along Stiles’ neck, groaning a little as he does so. His hips jerk with an aborted thrust, and when Derek pulls back, his mouth is slightly parted and his crimson eyes are half-lidded.

Stiles shakes his head, feeling loopy as hormones flood and overload his system, “S’not supposed to happen… M’on suppressants…”

“Sometimes they fail,” Derek growls, and he’s licking his lips hungrily at Stiles, “You alright, Stiles?”

“M’hot,” Stiles stares up at the night sky – at the few stars that are able to twinkle past the illumination of city streets and buildings, “wet.”

That makes a growl escape Derek again, “Want me to do something about that?”

Stiles thinks for a moment about it. Sure, he could say no and risk either having Derek ride off or having Derek pathetically drive him back to Scott’s apartment. He could also risk having Derek have his gang reign down upon Stiles for saying no. But then again… Derek is pretty hot, and he would definitely be a nice first time to brag about, dark affiliations or not…

Stiles licks his bottom lip slightly and brings his gaze back to Derek, “If you’re u-up to it.”

“Oh, I definitely am, baby,” Derek purrs, his voice all smooth like it had been at first while they were at the club, and he begins to slip Stiles’ shirt off of him, “but let’s get you stripped down for your alpha first.”

Stiles shivers at that, but complies nonetheless, with a bit of flailing limbs and blush tinting his cheeks. With each passing second, Stiles brain loses a little bit more coherency and awareness, making Stiles feel almost drugged as Derek carefully begins to undo the fly to his jeans.

“Your ass looked so good on the dance floor tonight, Stiles,” Derek hums, and going by the click of the shutter again, he’s still taking pictures of Stiles as he goes, “All swaying and begging for me to knot it… I bet that’s what you wanted, babe. A big alpha knot to fill you up and stuff you tight.”

Stiles involuntarily moans at the words as his jeans and boxers get pushed down to his inner thighs.

“God, and you smell like you’re aching to have one. I bet you are- considering you’re a virgin. I could just scent it on you. This innocence that was just begging to get lost,” Derek slips his free hand down to where his fingers are brushing up against the curve of Stiles’ ass – just enough so he could let some of the slick leaking out of Stiles run down onto his fingers to take yet another shot, “I’ll admit, I’m seasoned when it comes to being with omegas… but you- you’re something I’ve never dealt with before.”

Stiles groans and tries to slide Derek’s finger further up to where he’s aching, but Derek growls and holds him down by the jut of his hip. If anything else, it just makes Stiles gush slick all over the seat of Derek’s bike.

“At least my leather won’t be dry for a while,” Derek muses as he takes another photo, only to begin sliding Stiles’ jeans further down his legs.

“Derek,” Stiles’ voice clips near the end, spiraling out of octaves like the world is with control around Stiles himself, “Der- you gotta- you gotta get in me.”

Derek shushes the omega softly, and pulls his skinny jeans off of each leg individually, “I know, babe, but I wanna make this good.”

Stiles sobs quietly, “It hurts, Der.”

The alpha coos as he takes a photo of Stiles now that his skin is more out in the open, “Heats usually do… Is this the first time you’ve been around an alpha during one?”

Stiles nods – since he’s incapable of doing anything else – as his veins feel as though they’re having scorching lava flow through them. He whimpers as Derek growls.

“Come on, pose for me.”

A needy mewl escapes Stiles as he positions himself again – neck bared and things spread apart wide this time around. Derek snaps a few quick shots and hums appreciatively.

“I could film porn with you,” he murmurs, trailing a hand along Stiles’ hip until it rests near his inner thigh, “but I’d probably end up keeping it for myself.”

Stiles pants, and he makes grabby hands at Derek to accentuate that he needs the alpha now.

“Alright, alright, I’ve had my fun.”

Derek puts Stiles’ camera away quickly, but it’s the sound of Derek’s fly getting undone that has Stiles feeling like he’s about to explode. It’s also the sight of his somewhat sweaty abs after he removes his shirt – because Jesus, Stiles could play on those muscles as though they made the bars of a xylophone. Derek commends him on being so patient and obedient, and for it, he slips a few fingers into Stiles’ slick hole.

“Such a good omega for your alpha,” Derek praises while he stretches Stiles, “I bet that you won’t do it for anyone else but me, will you?”

The heat addles Stiles mind enough for him to nod desperately.

Derek chuckles darkly, “Oh, I know that, babe. You had eyes for no one else but me in that club. Your friend even warned you about me but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Oh no, not when your leaking slick through your pants at the thought of my knot filling you up.”

Again, Stiles shakes his head vigorously in response.

“Something tells me that you wanted this the moment you realized that I could fuck you. But you’re so inexperienced, babe. A little virgin omega like you should’ve been careful, but it didn’t matter, did it? Not when you could finally get that knot you’ve been imagining since you first presented.”

Slick rushes down Derek’s fingers and Stiles’ inner thigh to his calf muscle, as if his body agrees with all that Derek’s saying.

Derek groans at the sight, his chin falling to his chest as if he needs a moment to compose himself, before he looks back up again with lurid eyes, “You know, I’ve never been with an omega that’s as responsive as you, Stiles. Are you really that desperate? That hungry for my knot?”

A whine emanates from Stiles chest – a needy, lewd sound that has Derek’s nails slightly lengthening into claws going by the sudden pinpricks against his lower abdomen.

“Stiles,” his name sounds like it was punched out of Derek, “Stiles, I can’t-“

“Please,” Stiles moans, and it’s the most he’s gotten in word wise since his body has raged against him, “Please, Der, just- just fuck me… please…”

That makes the alpha growl as his fingers twist almost cruelly inside of Stiles, “I know, and I will, but- Stiles, you’ve got my wolf going insane…”

Stiles worries his bottom lip for a moment before he mewls for Derek again, “Der, I’m so empty- so empty and wet and I don’t- I need you to fill me up, please…”

“Fill you?” Derek echoes softly, his fingers slightly slowing in their movements, “With what, Stiles? My knot? My pups-“

Without meaning to, Stiles jolts down onto Derek’s fingers as his eyes squint shut tightly.

Derek hums in surprise, as though Stiles’ reaction wasn’t something he was used to, “Is that what gets you going, Stiles? The thought of getting knocked up?”

Stiles throws his head back and breathily sobs out, “Derek, please!”

“You want to just swell up with my pups, don’t you?”

“Shit, Derek, I-“

Derek growls and in seconds, has Stiles pinned to his bike using both of his hands. The loss of his fingers leaves an empty pang through both his ass and his chest. However, it’s quickly overpowered by the feeling of fear and arousal as Derek growls above Stiles – baring his teeth and flashing his eyes brightly at Stiles.

Stiles whines a wordless apology and bares his neck to show his submission to Derek. It must set his wolf off, because he’s burying his nose straight into the crook of Stiles’ neck the moment it’s up for grabs.

“Gonna look so good on my knot,” Derek huffs out, his gruff voice telling Stiles he must’ve teased the wolf out of hiding in Derek himself, “Gonna look so good, all heavy with my come and my pups.”

Stiles exhales along the shell of Derek’s ear as he notices Derek’s cock – hard and heavy – against the jut of his hip, and he shivers when one of Derek’s now clawed hands run down his side appreciatively.

“Derek,” Stiles whispers, and the claws recede enough to where Derek can grab his cock without injuring himself in the process, “Derek, please.”

The alpha jerks his length a few times, as if to make sure that it was as hard as it could get, before he lines himself up with Stiles’ slickened hole. His features are a little rougher in the dim, orange light from the streetlamp, but Stiles thinks he’s still just as beautiful as he should be as he drapes over Stiles completely.

“Gotta knot you, omega, fill you up like you want,” Derek grits out, and he presses the tip of his dick against Stiles’ entrance, “I’m gonna make sure that you’re leaking with my come by the end of this. They’ll be no doubt that you’re gonna pup for me.”

Stiles cries out as Derek bottoms out in one quick thrust, making his already heat-addled mind fog even further.

“You look so good, hanging off of my dick like this,” Derek grunts as he holds tightly onto Stiles’ hips, “I should keep you here forever.”

Stiles moans as he begins to grind back against Derek’s cock, moaning and sometimes trashing about a little as he feels Derek moving inside of him.

“Such a cock hungry little omega. Is that what you want, Stiles? My cock stuffing you up and breeding you?”

The omega keens and works his way down onto the thick length that’s thrusting inside of him. His arms flail back a little now that Derek’s not holding them anymore, and they grip onto the handlebars of Derek’s bike. It proves to be a worthy investment, because Derek’s hips jerk forward harshly, making Stiles inch forward along Derek’s motorcycle with each hard thrust the alpha makes.

“D-Derek!”

“That’s it, Stiles, scream my name,” Derek growls.

A burn grows along Stiles’ insides, and he stretches out below Derek. Each time Derek’s cock manages to move forward inside of him, Stiles moans and mewls. Slick runs down his thighs and sweat glistens hs skin as the alpha above him growls and pins him in. It causes a rush to go through Stiles, and he shivers and whimpers as Derek begins to mouth hungrily at the crook of his neck. After a few moments of it, Stiles feels weak in the knees and hazy as he rubs up against Derek.

Stiles must seem pathetic, despite all that Derek’s said, because of how fast his orgasm builds and he comes over himself and over some of Derek.

“That’s it, little omega,” Derek praises, and he kisses Stiles along the curve of his neck.

“Derek, please,” Stiles says on an exhale.

And apparently that’s all Derek needs because he ends up swelling up inside of Stiles enough to where he can’t pull out, and he groans as Stiles feels something rush inside of him.

The alpha hips twitch a little, as if they are trying to somehow bury Derek’s length deeper into Stiles.

“Der, I can’t-” Stiles squirms as the metal and other things digging into his skin become more apparent now that his heat is suddenly dying down alongside his blinding arousal, “Derek, I gotta move.”

“Gotta make sure it takes,” Derek grits out, his face hidden away in Stiles’ neck as he mouths along the omega’s skin absently, “Gotta make sure that I bred you.”

Stiles huffs quietly and looks up at the stars again. There’s barely any clouds out tonight, so the moon is full and apparent as it hangs in the sky above them. It has a bit of the slopes of Derek’s muscular back illuminated, and it’s just enough for Stiles to see a black swirling tattoo on Derek’s back. He squints at it for a moment, just long enough to memorize its shape, before Derek pulls back like he finally came to himself.

“Ugh, my head,” Derek rubs a little at his forehead, “You got my wolf riled up real well, kid.”

“That wasn’t exactly my intention,” Stiles murmurs as he squirms a little, “Now can you please rearrange me? It’s kind of annoying to have your bike’s stuff digging into my back.”

Derek seems like he’s about to ask why until he tries to pull away, “D-Did I knot you?”

“Yes,” Stiles huffs as he rolls his eyes lightly, “Now could you please move me off this fucking thing?”

Derek scowls but complies, looking a little frazzled as their movements cause Derek’s knot to catch on Stiles’ rim, “So… We had sex.”

Stiles nods, but doesn’t look at the alpha, “Yeah, we did.”

“Was it a good first time?”

“I guess? It’s not like I have any other times to compare it to.”

Derek frowns, “I didn’t mean to make it so… animalistic.”

Stiles shrugs, “Dude, it’s fine. Surprise heat and everything else, it certainly wasn’t bad.”

“Want me to still make up for it?”

For a moment, Stiles gapes at Derek, and he’s about to say something when Derek kisses him. His hand comes up behind Stiles’ ear to cup his face, and Stiles’ eyes flutter shut as he feels Derek’s mouth move against his own. The alpha gently moves his hips upward from where they’re still joined, and Stiles’ legs come up from the sides of the motorcycle until they’re wrapped around Derek’s waist. That makes Derek smirk as he nips at Stiles’ lower lip, and his hands lower until they’re tracing loose circles around the small of Stiles’ back.

Stiles parts a little from Derek, but they’re close enough to where their foreheads still press against one another, “How long do you think it’ll take before your knot goes down?”

“Thirty minutes, maybe?” Derek breathes out, his lips already beginning to press and rub along Stiles’ again, “But I have something we can do in the meantime…”

“You basically mean that you want to do me again, right?”

Derek snorts when he kisses Stiles’ jawline, “Something like that.”

Stiles rolls his eyes lightly but let’s one of his hand run through Derek’s surprisingly soft hair, “Whatever. Just get to it.”

The alpha smiles and does as instructed.

Stiles moans while they keep on kissing, but it’s the fact that Derek is lifting him up and down to ride his knot at best as he can that’s really making him feel like butterflies are hatching and flying around in his stomach. Those fingers are calloused but gentle with Stiles as they maneuver him, and those lips are soft and careful when Stiles parts his own to quietly mewl. It’s also those haze – hazel and blue and green and warm – watch Stiles as he slowly begins to come apart second by the second.

“You know,” Derek murmurs against Stiles’ ear, “you look pretty damn good like this.”

“S-So I’ve heard…”

Derek chuckles and pulls back, but doesn’t say anything.

Apparently time has slipped past without Stiles knowing, because Stiles finds Derek slipping out a little, “Y-You’re already done?”

“Nah, I’ve got one thing in mind,” Derek says as he smirks.

Stiles is confused, especially when Derek lays him out along his bike again, “What are you doing?”

“A little clean up.”

Derek then leans down and spreads Stiles’ legs apart before he puts his head in between them. It’s a moment for Stiles to realize what’s happening, and it’s only until a tongue briefly laps at his hole that Stiles figures it out.

He moans and rolls his hips towards Derek. Hands come up and hold him still, making him whine if anything else.

Still, Derek keeps eating him out, as though he wanted to get all of Stiles’ slick and his come out-

Oh.

Oh.

Stiles’ arousal dampens at the fact that Derek is probably trying to sneak in this extra “sexy time” in to make sure that his jizz is no longer present inside of Stiles. Sure, it may not do anything now, but still… Just the idea alone of him trying to wipe – or lick, in this case – any evidence of his time with Stiles away just… it hurts.

Derek must’ve noticed Stiles’ change in mood, because he comes up and cups Stiles’ face, “Something wrong?”

“Nothing, just-“ Stiles voice nearly breaks, but he swallows it down so Derek can’t hear it happen, “Tired, is all.”

Derek frowns a little, “Oh, yeah… You want me to drive you home?”

“That- that might be for the best,” Stiles murmurs, and Derek is off of him in seconds.

There’s just something strange to getting dressed with the person you just lost your virginity to and knowing that your time spent together it pretty much up. There’s also something to the subtle sting and stickiness to Stiles’ ass, but he powers through it and pulls his boxers and jeans back up again without crying or making an even bigger fool of himself. Derek doesn’t say anything else either, just pulls his shirt and jeans back into a respectable order and dons on his black helmet before looking over to Stiles.

“Where are you staying?”

Stiles has to pause and recall Scott’s address for a moment, and he quietly relays it to Derek as he puts back on the red helmet Derek has basically stolen from his fellow gang member for Stiles to wear. He makes sure his camera is still there on him and packaged properly before they leave.

The ride back is less exciting than the initial one. Maybe it’s the loss of the promise of sex, or that something in Stiles feels weird while he holds onto the alpha that just accidentally knotted him as he drives to drop him off like last week’s trash that got missed. Still, there’s an emptiness clawing its way through Stiles’ emotions, and ironically enough, he just doesn’t know how to feel about that, exactly.

Derek’s motorcycle slows down once he reaches Scott’s apartment building, and he turns around to look at Stiles as he gets off.

Stiles is about to pathetically walk back into the building when Derek stops him, “Stiles, wait!”

Stiles pivots quickly, probably looking so hopeful that Derek might have changed his mind about leaving and maybe wanted to go another round – just anything that would prolong Stiles leaving.

“I need the helmet back.”

And just that like, Stiles’ heart shatters into a tiny thousand, microscopic pieces along the sidewalk.

“O-Oh, y-yeah,” Stiles feels like a complete idiot as he takes the stupid thing off, and he practically drops it once while handing it back to the alpha that’s giving him a judgmental look at the moment, “Here…”

Derek nods and straps it onto the back – as though to specifically tell Stiles that the seat was no longer open to him to use – and just rides off without so much as a goodbye.

Stiles watches his taillight disappear with distance, and with it, a sinking feeling plagues his stomach. It’s why he ends up miserably walking back to Scott’s place – thankfully with the spare key Scott gave him in hand – and barely manages to lock the door back before he falls against the guest mattress in a fit of tears.

The strangest part is that he doesn’t know why he’s crying.

He wakes up to Scott poking him.

“Dude, are you alive?”

“Yes, now leave me the fuck alone,” Stiles hisses, and he pulls the cover back over his head – or tries to, at least.

Stiles fights with the fabric between them, “Stiles, seriously. I need to know if you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” the omega growls, and he feels tears line his eyes as Scott looks at him as though he were a stranger, “I’m supposed to be fine.”

Scott frowns, “Stiles, come on, man, talk to me-“

“Did you feel like this afterwards?” his voice is soft – ashamed, even, “Did you feel like someone walked right through you and left a hole that looked exactly like them?”

“Uh, is this about Derek?”

“I don’t know…”

Scott hums in thought, “I mean, I dunno… There was that one girl who was my roommate when I first moved here. She was an omega. I thought I loved her. We had sex out of nowhere when she went into heat suddenly, and I accidentally knotted her during. We had temporarily bonded because of it, and it sucked for the both of us when she was packing up her things afterwards… Something tells me, mostly your scent, that the same kind of thing happened with you and Derek…”

“Oh god…” Stiles puts his face in his hands.

“Hey, it’s fine, buddy. Things happen when you get biological. Just- he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Physically or emotionally?”

Scott frowns, “Uh, both?”

“He was fine, Scott… I just feel… weird.”

The alpha shrugs, “Well, maybe it has to do with the fact that you lost your virginity to someone who runs a notorious motorcycle gang.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me…”

Scott just snorts.

“So, any luck with your coworker?”

“Oh, Allison,” Scott sighs dreamily, “We talked for a bit, yeah… She’s so nice. She and her aunt were there checking things out. Turns out she also was showing someone not from here around town.”

Stiles laughs softly, “Did you get her number?”

“No, but… she was mentioning having lunch with me at work.”

“Baby steps,” Stiles muses.

“Maybe… I just hope that something will come of it.”

Stiles smiles, “You’ll get there, buddy, I’m sure of it.”

Scott grins back, “You too.”

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Sure, Scott tried to convince Stiles that he could still get him an internship and that they could be roommates, but he also knew that Stiles still had his dad to take care of back home.

It’s why Stiles comes in through the door of his house in Beacon Hills with a pout on his face and his bag slung over his shoulder. His father is sitting in a recliner, looking tired but happy to see his son.

“How was New York?”

“Tiring,” Stiles murmurs as he heads for the stairs to begin unpacking, “Once I’m done getting my stuff put back in place, I’ll make us some grub, okay?”

His dad nods, “Sure thing, kid.”

Stiles heads up to his room and sets his bag onto his bed. He unzips it, takes out it clothes, ends up crying again for no reason.

He settles himself on the edge of the bed as his camera comes into a blurry view through the tears, and a sadistic curiosity has him grabbing it and removing it from its case.

Images from that night are still on there – in fact, they’re the first ones on the memory card, because Stiles was so out of it that he didn’t even end up taking pictures. Still, it hurts either way – it hurts to see Derek’s and on his skin, touching and feeling Stiles as he gave himself to him.

But the one that hurts the most is the very first one that Derek ever took with Stiles’ camera – the one where Stiles is on Derek’s bike and everything was normal. Sure, there was a lot of flirting and sexual tension then, but there was a simplicity – a calmness that came before the storm – in that picture. All it is though is Stiles facing another direction with that red helmet in his hands.

But… it’s… it’s surprisingly good.

Stiles saves it for later, though, because his dad is probably hungry, and Stiles has definitely moped enough.

Later comes by in about two months, and in the form of Stiles violently vomiting the pot roast he had fixed for dinner up into the toilet bowl.

Normally, he think he’d have a stomach bug or something, and it would be true if he hadn’t already gone to the doctor about it and suffered this fate every morning for the past week and a half.

So he calls up his doctor and asks how he would be able to tell if he’s pregnant about a two months after the fact. Sadly, there’s not many options, but the one tried-and-true method is apparently suggested before something to pee on.

So that’s what Stiles does, with the advice from his doctor. He stops taking his suppressants and waits for the week his pills usually keep him sane.

When the dreaded start of Hell Week comes around, the only thing that happens is another morning vomiting session and a panic attack afterwards.

Stiles’ dad comforts him after he hears his son hyperventilating out in the hallway, but he can’t tell anything unusual is going on since he’s a beta. He can’t scent the sickly sweetness that now apparently permeates off of Stiles like some perfume like an alpha or another omega can.

Stiles doesn’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse, exactly.

“You okay, Stiles?”

“No,” he cries.

His dad frowns, “What happened?”

“I- I-“ Stiles looks his dad in the eye and just says it, “I’m pregnant.”

It takes Stiles’ dad an hour to come back to his senses and to stop cleaning his shotgun, but it takes Stiles another ten after he’s done panicking himself about what he’s even going to do. His dad’s gone through half a bottle of cleaner while Stiles went through and entire bag of Hershey’s kisses to calm himself. It leaves his stomach swirling around uncomfortably while he dad puts his shotgun away, but being a veteran of what has been morning sickness for what seems like past month has made him a pro at keeping stuff down.

His dad settles himself in a chair opposite of Stiles at their dinner table, and he looks at Stiles with a gaze that’s both worried and frustrated at the same time.

“Dad, it’s fine. You don’t- you don’t have to shoot someone to make this right… This was just as my fault as it was his.”

His dad rubs at his face haggardly, “I know, but… I just don’t want you to be stuck in this situation alone, kid. Do you know where the father is?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles rubs at the back of his head, “He lives in New York. I think.”

His father sighs.

“I’m sorry, dad, I really didn’t mean for this to happen,” Stiles murmurs, “It was supposed to be a one-time thing, and I guess I wasn’t as careful as I should’ve been…”

“Well, it’s too late now to worry about what you could’ve done. You need to worry about what you can do.”

Stiles nods and looks down at his, thankfully, flat abdomen, “Y-Yeah, I know…”

“Are you going to have an abortion?”

Stiles’ head jerks up at that, “What? …”

“Are you going to get an abortion, Stiles?” his dad repeats quietly.

For a second, Stiles is quiet, “I- I don’t think so… I don’t think I could go through that…”

“It’s your choice, in the end. I just want to make sure that you’ve made it when you still have the chance to act upon the other option…” his dad pauses, “Speaking of which, what are you going to do about the whole father thing?”

“I- I guess I’m going to find him,” the omega says absently as he eyes at his phone, “Are you okay if I go up to New York again?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay, kid… You know, I could ask the same about you.”

Stiles nods, “I do know, dad… But I’ll be fine.”

He hopes it’s true as a hand carefully places itself along his stomach.

“You what!?” Scott yells over the line as Stiles walks and adjusts his bag on his shoulder, trying to find the gate he’s supposed to head to for his flight to New York.

Stiles has to bring the phone back to his hear now that his friend is done shouting, “I need your help to find Derek again because I’m pregnant and he’s the dad.”

The alpha takes a moment, “I- I’ll admit, Stiles, this isn’t something that I thought would happen.”

“Yeah, neither did I, but it did, and now I’m pregnant and I need to find Derek, okay?”

“Yeah, but-“ Scott clears his throat, “couldn’t you just get an-“

Stiles cuts Scott off, “I already talked to my dad about it. He knows how I am. So do you. I’ve always wanted a family, Scott, even before my dad got sick.”

Scott sighs, “Yeah, buddy, I know… But do you really think that Derek’s the best option for that? He’s in a gang, Stiles…”

“I know he is, but I still slept with him and now I’m carrying his pup,” for a moment Stiles’ mind wanders off to that night – about how Derek’s wolf-addled mind made him leech out comments of getting Stiles knocked up just like this – and he shivers at what Derek might think when he realizes he accomplished that goal, “I’ve got to find him, Scott… He has to know, at least. Now could you please help me?”

“Alright, I’ll help you. But keep in mind that finding him may not be as simple as you think.”

Stiles snorts, “Dude, I found him in a dank night club, how hard can it be?”

“Oh my god this is harder than I thought,” Stiles grimaces as they exit another sleazy club they had gone into.

Scott frowns as he brushes off the drink that some drunk beta spilled on him, “Yeah, I know… Another one of these holes in the wall is going to either give me tetanus or an STI and I’m not up for that, Stiles.”

“Neither am I,” Stiles gags, and proceeds to throw up in the alleyway the exited into.

“Dude, you okay?”

Stiles leans back up and wipes at his mouth with his sleeve with a scowl, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just- apparently I can’t stand the smell of alcohol and stuff anymore.”

Scott winces sympathetically, “I can tell… Think you can keep looking, then?”

“Maybe?” Stiles coughs a little, “I dunno. The club just smells… wrong.”

“It could have to be for the fact it’s not Derek’s scent,” Scott supplies, and Stiles is about to ask him what he means by that when the alpha holds up his phone, “I’ve been reading up on pregnancy symptoms. Sometimes an omega can get irritated by unfamiliar scents when pregnant. It also says that it’s common for you to puke during this point in your pregnancy, so maybe we need to get a barf bag for you before we proceed with our search for the baby daddy.”

Stiles huffs and rolls his eyes at his friend, “Only you would do that.”

“Hey man, safety and cleanliness first.”

They’ve gone through two barf bags and ten other clubs by the time they end up calling it quits. It’s only been one night, but Stiles is already feeling hopeless about finding Derek at all by this point. They’re already in the last bar to try out for the night, and Stiles feels pathetic and mortified whenever he singles out the people in leather and talks to them. Sometimes he gets some fairly lewd answers about the chance at a threesome that could lead to an orgy or home porno filming and yeah – that’s enough profiling for leather tonight.

It’s how Stiles ends up at the bar asking for some water, earning him a small judgmental look from the bartender, when someone taps his shoulder.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”

“Not interested,” Stiles mutters as he gets handed his drink.

“You will be once I mention that I know how to get you to Derek Hale again.”

Stiles nearly spits out his drink, but he somehow manages to swallow without choking and looks towards the man that’s talking to him. He’s dressed in a suit, rather than leather, and is clean cut and professional looking. His jaw is just as sharp as his suit is, and icy blue irises land on Stiles, as though he’s also studying Stiles himself.

“W-What?”

The man points to the couple that offered the ‘night of his life’ to him over his shoulder, “I overheard you talking to them over there.”

“Dude, I can barely hear myself in here, how did you-“

The guy rolls up his jacket sleeve enough to where Stiles can see a spiral shape, similar to the one on Derek’s back that he saw that night, inked into his skin.

“Oh,” Stiles murmurs, and his eyes gaze nervously around to see if the other patrons of the club know what’s going on, “So you’re a member of his gang-“

“Pack,” the stranger corrects, “Anyways, you’re looking for him?”

“Yeah,” Stiles gives the man a wary eye, “Why?”

The stranger shrugs, making his cropped and styled hair bounce a little with the motion, “Because, a lot of people are. A lot of bad people.”

Stiles frowns, his hand tightening around his glass of water, “Trust me, dude, my reasons for looking for Derek aren’t anything dark and sinister, okay? I just need to talk to him, is all…”

The man takes a sniff at the air and grins, his head tilting slightly as he smiles at Stiles, “Oh, I think I know what this little chat of yours is going to be about-“

“Ugh, just- cut the crap. Can I talk to Derek or not?”

The dick is still smiling, “I don’t know. I don’t think that Derek will be too peachy about finding out that he knocked up-“

Stiles growls, “Shut up. It- It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Of course it didn’t. It never was supposed to. That’s what they always say.”

Stiles frowns, “Y-You mean I’m not the first?”

“Oh honey, no. Derek averages about three omegas a day. Do you really think he could afford or care for condoms for every single one of them?”

That makes Stiles’ cheeks and throat burn, “Wouldn’t he get an STD then? Do I have to go get tested?”

The guys laughs at Stiles for a second and takes a drink from the person who’s passed out on the bar beside him, making Stiles cringe as he sets the shot glass down and grins at the omega, “We’re werewolves. We don’t get STD’s or illnesses like you humans do.”

“Oh… but… what about the others?”

“You’re not the first to have a pregnancy scare, gorgeous. A lot of omegas have raised hell saying that Derek put a baby inside them, but he never did. You, though, are different. I can’t tell if you’re wearing some expensive hormone perfume and you know how to control your heartbeat or if it’s actually true.”

Stiles frowns, “Uh, I don’t know about the heartbeat thing, but I can’t even wear my deodorant anymore, dude. The smell makes me sicker than a dog.”

The guys scowls, and for a second Stiles thinks he might have offended him with the whole ‘sick as a dog’ thing, “So you’re not… you’re not lying about being pregnant-“

“No! I’m not lying!” Stiles lowers his volume a little when people divert their attention to him, and he sighs and crosses his arms while avoiding Derek’s lackey’s gaze, “I just found out a few days ago… I did the heat test, and I missed it, okay?”

“Wow, you’re really not lying.”

Stiles groans in frustration, “Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time.”

The guy looks serious now – no longer slightly flirtatious or teasing, “Shit, I- Derek won’t be happy.”

“I’d rather see his reaction than have you tell me about it,” Stiles huffs as he takes a sip of his now lukewarm water.

“Well, if you are, you’re going to have to ditch your friend here.”

“Scott?”

The dude nods, “Yeah, he can’t come along. This is going to be a very private thing, okay?”

“Look, I know you guys aren’t exactly the most innocent of people, but shouldn’t it be fine if-“

“No.”

His voice is so serious that Stiles knows that there’s no room for any arguing at all, and he nods once with his lips pressed tightly together as he turns to find Scott, ironically, walking up to him.

“I found nothing,” he begins, only to stall a little when he sees the guy behind Stiles waiting on them to finish their conversation, “Uh, what about you?”

“Nothing,” Stiles lies, and the Wolfsbane member behind him relaxes a little, “Just- how about you head home? You’ve got work tomorrow-“

Scott glares, “Dude, no! We’re in this together, okay?”

“Scott, you’ve worked so hard to get that internship, okay? It’s not worth it to throw it away over me.”

His friend frowns, “Stiles, I don’t want to leave you alone…”

“I’m going to be fine, alright? Go ahead and go back to the apartment. I’ve got my key and my phone is fully charged. I’ll make sure that if anything happens, that someone will know, okay?”

“Okay,” Scott murmurs, sounding a little unhappy, “But seriously. You need a ride or are in danger, call me.”

Stiles smiles softly, “Yeah, dude, I know.”

Scott steals one last glance at Derek’s fellow gang member before he heads out, and Stiles pivots back around with a sigh.

“Alright, what now?”

“Come with me.”

Stiles follows the guy through the sea of dancing and drunken people until the come out of the back of the building, and Stiles groans when he sees the guy’s crimson bike come into view.

“Dude, seriously?”

“What?” the guy barks back, his eyebrows furrowed as he glares over his shoulder at Stiles, “It’s a motorcycle gang. What were you expecting? A Porsche?”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “It would be a nice change, yeah…”

The guy huffs an irritated breath, but brings his helmet up, making Stiles squirm a little. It’s the red one Derek took for him to wear that night.

Oh god.

At least this dude’s legit.

“By the way, Stiles, my name’s Jackson,” the guy states as he slips the sentimental helmet on, “I couldn’t tell you in there, just in case there were some extra ears listening in. You never know.”

Stiles swallows and waits for Jackson to get seated on his bike, “Are the cops after you guys?”

“They always have been, but they’re not the problem. They never were, really,” Jackson sighs with agitation and looks over to Stiles, “Are you just going to stand there and play twenty-questions, or are you going to get on to see your sperm donor?”

Stiles glares at Jackson, but sets himself down on the back nonetheless, “What a beautiful way with words you have there, you asshole.”

Jackson laughs a little as he turns the keys in the ignition, “Oh yeah, you’re totally Derek’s type.”

Stiles is about to ask what in the hell that means when Jackson guns it out of there.

Stiles is ashamed to admit this, but he ends up holding onto Jackson during the ride to wherever it is that Jackson is taking him. Now, keep in mind, this wasn’t necessarily by choice, exactly. Jackson rides way differently than Derek did. His turns aren’t jerky, per say, but they’re sudden and fast and make Stiles feel like he’s about to topple off the bike and into a curb or something. Another difference is that this time Stiles doesn’t have a helmet either, so every sharp turn and slight adjustment has Stiles gripping tightly onto the werewolf. It also doesn’t help that Stile ends up feeling absolutely sick to his stomach, either.

That’s why most of the ride, Stiles buries his face into Jackson’s back and holds onto him for his life.

The ride ends with Jackson lightly smacking Stiles off of him, and Stiles slightly stumbling away from the bike. He’s able to get the world to stop after a few moments of timed breathing and careful stillness, and he looks up to Jackson to glare at him.

“You asshole…”

“You’re not about to hurl, are you?” Jackson grimaces while looking disgusted.

Stiles shakes his head lightly, “No, but I was about to… Just- where are we?”

“HQ,” Jackson informs Stiles as he begins to walk away.

Stiles calls him an asshole again under his breath.

“Heard that.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but eventually follows suit. He notices that they’re walking into a building that’s in the middle of nowhere, shrouded by a thicket of trees and other various plants. The building itself isn’t too old, its design and layout is pretty modern when Jackson lets Stiles inside. It’s spartan and mostly vacant, leaving Stiles a lot of room to wander around aimlessly.

“Stiles,” Jackson calls, and the omega looks over to where Jackson is pointing towards a set of stairs, “stop walking off and come on.”

Stiles glares at the beta, but follows nonetheless.

He walks up the stairs carefully, feeling a little nervous at the fact he’s currently in the Wolfsbane gang’s HQ, and that he’s more than likely surrounded by werewolves that would be more than happy to take care of him. It has a hand darting down to his stomach instinctively as he ascends.

“They’re having a meeting more than likely,” Jackson murmurs as he walks in front of Stiles, “Just be quiet and don’t cause any issues. Being combative or mouthy isn’t going to get you anywhere but in a morgue.”

“G-Got it,” Stiles swallows anxiously.

The staircase ends and leads to a hallway, and Stiles follows closely behind Jackson as he navigates the space by memory. He stops near a door that’s at the end of the hall, and he turns to Stiles while his hand rests on the knob.

“Remember, just stay quiet and submissive, and you’ll be fine… maybe.”

Stiles opens his mouth to protest, but Jackson, the dick that he is, opens the door to the room.

Inside, a large table has numerous people sitting around it, from the angle that Stiles can see from. They all look towards Stiles, and they’re once impassive or disgruntled expressions turn hostile. One or two even bare their teeth and growl lowly at Stiles, making him freeze at the doorway while Jackson easily walks inside.

“Who is that?” a blonde says, her eyes fiery as they rest on Stiles.

“Someone I picked up at the club.”

There’s a sigh from inside the part of the room Stiles can’t see, and a collected voice speaks, “Jackson, what have we told you about-“

Jackson holds his hands up in defense, “Look, Boyd, I wasn’t chasin’ some tail, okay? This kid’s got important. If it weren’t for me, the Silverblood’s would have gotten him.”

Silence falls upon the room once again, except for the sound of a chair getting pushed out from the table. Stiles can’t see who it is, but he can hear footsteps nearing where he’s frozen to the floor.

“You might wanna have a talk with him in private boss,” Jackson murmurs as the other werewolfs’ eyes widen as they stare, “because from what I could tell, he’s a two-in-one package right now.”

Stiles is about to object or do something when the choice is made for him.

There’s Derek Hale, standing in the doorway, with wide eyes and flared nostrils, as he looks at Stiles in complete shock and confusion.

It has Stiles’ heart set a flutter, and adrenaline and panic rush through him as he sees Derek’s eyes narrow and redden as they glare at him. Stiles feels like he messed up – like, majorly messed up, and he feels his throat tighten in fear as the growls continue from inside of the room behind Derek’s stiff shoulders.

“Surprise, Derek, you’re gonna be a dad!” Jackson sing-songs from inside of the room, making Derek’s scowl that much worse.

Stiles wheezes, and proceeds to pass out.

Cold. Wet.

It’s what Stiles wakes up to, and he groans as someone carefully wipes at his forehead with what feels like an over-softened washcloth.

“Derek, he’s awake!” a female voice shouts.

There’s the sound of shoes quickly shuffling over, and Stiles feels the washcloth get replaced with warm, familiar hands cupping his face.

“Stiles? Stiles, can you hear me?”

“I’m not deaf,” Stiles whispers haggardly, refusing to open his eyes now that he finds his head pounding, “but I do have a headache, so please be gentle.”

Derek snorts softly, and lets his hand slip away from Stiles. It makes the omega feel weird, but… No. He’s not going to be a lovesick omega for the alpha that knocked him up. That’s not gonna happen.

No – not at all.

“Alright, everyone clear the room!” the voice from before calls out, and after several sets of rushed footfalls, Stiles knows that he and Derek are alone now.

“So…” Derek murmurs as it sounds like he takes a seat opposite of Stiles, “you’re pregnant.”

“Yep,” Stiles pops the ‘p’ and settles on what feels like the cushions of a couch.

Derek takes a few seconds to say something, “I thought you were on birth control?”

Stiles winces, “I only needed suppressants… I- I didn’t really have the time to hook up or whatever at home, so…”

“Oh…”

“Yeah…”

Derek clears his throat awkwardly, “Uh, how far along are you now?”

“Three, almost four months now. I had to wait to do a unsuppressed heat test, so that added some time for me to be sure or not if I was…”

Derek hums in understanding, “What are your plans?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I just knew that I had to tell you one way or another… I don’t want to get an abortion, I know that much, but… I just really don’t know,” Stiles admits, and he shivers a little, only to feel Derek place a blanket on him a second later, “Thanks…”

“How long have you been looking for me?”

Stiles sighs and squirms into the blanket Derek gave him, smelling some traces of the alpha’s scent on him, “About a day or so… Thankfully Jackson overheard me asking about you-“

“What?”

Stiles chances to open his eyes just a little, and he looks at Derek, who’s currently scowling harshly at the floor as Stiles explains, “I was asking around about you… I didn’t- I didn’t know where to look or who to go to-“

“Stiles, you could’ve gotten yourself killed,” Derek grits out, his eyes stony as he looks up and meets Stiles’ gaze, “There are people out there that want to get at me. If they found out about the baby, they’d- they’d-“

It sinks in for Stiles, and his voice is quiet and grim, “They’d kill me…”

“Yes,” Derek whispers, looking worn as he rubs at his face stressfully, “Stiles, you aren’t safe. Not while you’re pregnant with my pup. You could maybe live a normal life if you give it up for-“

“No!” Stiles jolts up from where he was lying down, only making his stomach jerk uncomfortably and he gags for a second.

Derek rushes over in milliseconds and sets a hand on Stiles’ back, “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Stiles has to power through it for a few seconds, “Your kid just likes to make me seasick even if I’m on land, dude…”

Derek pauses for a moment, “Stiles, you- you need to understand… This baby is going to endanger you for as long as you’re with it. If you just put it up for adoption then-“

“No,” Stiles whispers harshly, “I’m not going to abandon it.”

The alpha takes a bit to respond, “I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Then what did you mean, Derek?” Stiles looks up to glare the alpha in the eye, and he looks a little shocked as Stiles goes on, “Because it really sounded like you were telling me that I just disown it like it was a mistake- like someone else could deal with the problem that I caused. If I gave it up for adoption, innocent people could get caught in the crossfire. What would happen to it then, Derek? Would it float around in the foster system until a miracle happened and it got adopted, or when it turns eighteen?”

Derek scowls harder, “Stiles, I told you-“

“Derek,” Stiles’ voice breaks, and tears begin to form, “I just- I can’t do that to anyone or the baby. I just can’t. Unlike you, I can’t walk away from something completely after I’m done fucking it over.”

The alpha takes a wounded step back, “If you feel that way…”

“Derek, we had a one-night stand where my suppressants just ended up failing and you got carried away and knotted me. I know that you’re not willing to even consider the idea of commitment when you didn’t sign up for that.”

“Stiles, don’t- don’t put words in my mouth, okay?” Derek glares at Stiles softly, and it quickly falls away to a saddened look, “I just want you and the baby to be safe.”

“So you’re okay with me not terminating?”

Derek sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll admit, it’s definitely not ideal, but… I get it. It’s going against your instincts too.”

“But isn’t easier as an alpha?” Stiles counters angrily, “You just get to knot something and walk off-“

Derek growls and bares his teeth, hi s eyes flashing a lurid shade of red before he reels himself back just a little, “Don’t assume that you know how I feel about this, Stiles.”

Stiles’ heart is doing terrified summersaults in his chest, but he says nothing else.

The alpha shakes his head, and his head is hung low as he sits down in a recliner that’s to the side of the couch Stiles is splayed out across on, “For werewolves, urges are multiplied by what feels like ten. It doesn’t matter if you’re an alpha, omega, or beta- what you feel it’s- it’s like it’s on steroids. You think you’re protective? You think that you couldn’t even fathom killing your kid? Imagine how it is for me, Stiles…”

“You just told me not to assume,” Stiles whispers.

Derek shakes his head, but doesn’t look up, “I feel like shoveling out a hole in the ground and just putting you in there so no one can get to you. I want to make sure that you and the baby have everything you could possibly ever need and want.”

Stiles’ heart races, but not out fear. He’s just about to ask Derek if he’ll do just that when Derek unknowingly answers that for him.

“Do you know how terrifying that is, Stiles? I slept with you once. Just once. Sure, it was fun for both parties, I think, but I just can’t do any of that. I can’t just instantly accept that I’m a father and instantly everything is all sunshine and rainbows-“

“Then why bother protecting me and the baby then?” Stiles hisses, and once again, tears threaten to fall during their conversation, “If you don’t want to actually be there for either of us, then what’s the point of making sure we’re safe?”

Derek frowns, “There’s some fucked up people after me, Stiles. They wouldn’t hesitate to make things painful and rough for you. The farther away and the less associated you two are from me, the better.”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine. Let me just go ahead and erase your DNA out of the fetus real quick,” Stiles glares at the alpha before him, “You idiot- this baby is always going to be associated with you because your its biological father. It’s always going to be half of you for its whole existence. There’s no way that it can lessen that tie, Derek. So we’re back to square one again, why do you care?”

“Because you and the baby don’t deserve to die over me, okay? You’re a nice kid, Stiles. You got that camera of yours and you’ve- you’ve got your friend… Scout, right? There’s things and people you have to live for, now including the baby. Don’t die for me, okay?”

“For? For!?” Stiles stands abruptly, ignoring the roll to his stomach as he does so, “Jesus, Derek! What the hell!? You’re supposed to care, right!?”

Derek looks at Stiles like he’s confused – as though he doesn’t understand why Stiles is so upset – and narrows his gaze at him, “Stiles, I’m in a motorcycle gang and I like to have a lot of one-night stands with omegas. What did you expect when you came here? That I would want to play house with you just because I accidentally got you knocked you up? Newsflash, Stiles, I don’t have to buy you a ring or get the thirty-year-mortgage to a two-story house. I don’t have to say that I love you just because you’re pregnant with my kid and I don’t have to get down on one knee and beg you to stay with me forever. We were a one-time thing, Stiles. We weren’t meant to be permanent.”

Tears stream down Stiles’ cheeks, and his wipes at them with the back of one hand, “Oh my god, you’re an asshole. Just a complete an utter asshole… Just- just forget I came here. It’s obvious that you can’t see any farther than your knot, you self-centered dickwad.”

Stiles begins to walk away, and he makes sure that he’s still got his shoes and everything else on his person before he calls out Jackson’s name while he exits.

Derek doesn’t follow him.

Jackson joins Stiles outside afterwards to find him crying into his hands.

“Jesus, and I thought I could be an asshole,” Jackson mutters with disdain as he nears his bike, “Stiles, you okay?”

Stiles hiccups and wipes at his eyes, “About as okay as I can be after that…”

“Yeah, we all basically overheard what he said to you,” and Stiles feels mortified while someone shouts and breaks something inside of the house, “We’re all pretty upset with him…”

“Who knew that even an asshole like you could have a heart?” Stiles jokes as he laughs on a sob.

Jackson chuckles softly, “We all have our good sides…”

“Apparently not,” Stiles murmurs as he looks back towards the building as another shout comes from inside.

He looks away.

“Hey, come on,” Jackson motions for Stiles to come over as he gets onto his bike, “You don’t need to rightfully mope here any longer. The longer you stay here, the more-”

“Danger I’m in, I know,” Stiles crosses his arms together for a moment and shakes his head, “You know, if I had known that Derek would just- just dismiss us like this, then I never would’ve gone through all of this to come here. I endangered my baby because I only wanted to know if its father would care…”

Jackson’s expression is sympathetic, “I know…”

Stiles head over to Jackson’s bike, “I need you to take me to-“

“Hold on,” Jackson places a finger on Stiles’ lips, “You can’t just shout out addresses here. That’s a sure way to get you killed.”

The omega frowns, “I’m not going to have to go into witness protection, am I?”

“Not really, but sort of. It’s just that you’re going to have to become paranoid now that you’re carrying Derek’s peanut and that you’re going to have to watch out for yourself.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles wheezes as something else inside of the building breaks in the argument, “I’m not going to last a week…”

Jackson sighs and hands Stiles what looks to be a cheap pre-paid phone, “Don’t worry about signing up for some payment plan or buying those refill cards, it’s already covered. The pack has this number, and they’ll text you if you have any questions. Now, here’s one thing I’m going to tell you now, if you ever, and I mean ever, get the feeling that someone is following you or that you feel threatened by someone unfamiliar, then you get rid of this thing. Take the battery out and completely destroy it to make sure nothing is left. Fire’s usually the best thing to take care of it all.”

“How would you guys know if that happens?” Stiles whispers with the phone in hand, “How would I contact you to know what to do or where to go-“

“It’s designed to send a message out when that happens through the phone company. They’ll contact us and say that the phone is no longer in service, so we’ll know then that something is up.”

Stiles nods, “But what about where I am?”

“They’ll inform us about which tower your messages last stemmed off of, that way we can pinpoint your last location. Look, these next couple of months, you’re going to have to prepare yourself. Take defense classes and get yourself ready for the worst, because I’m going to tell you now, the underground world is usually aware of everything. That means that soon, you’ll have people knocking on your door with Girl Scout cookies in one hand and a gun in the other. They won’t hesitate to kidnap you or hurt you.”

That makes Stiles swallow nervously as he gets onto the back of the bike, “So I’ve got a target painted on my back then, even if Derek wants nothing to do with me?”

“Sadly, yes,” Jackson murmurs as he turns his motorcycle on and drives away somewhat slowly so that he can be heard over the engine, “There’s a lot of people who have a grudge against us. Specifically radicalists that don’t exactly enjoy the idea of an all-werewolf gang.”

Stiles furrows his brow, “Is that who’s after you now?”

“One of the groups, yes. Their gang goes by the Silverbloods, but they’re all humans that are completely and utterly anti-werewolf. They’re violent and full of prejudice towards our kind, whether we’ve been bitten or born this way doesn’t matter to them. They’ll more than likely give you the most amount of grief, but since you’re human from what I can smell, you yourself have a better chance at living through the ordeals.”

A protective hand jolts down to Stiles’ midsection, “So they’ll kill my baby?”

“They’ll definitely try, that’s for sure,” Jackson pauses, “Unless it’s human… If that’s the case, they may just rough you and it up a little to get Derek to come to them.”

“Oh, so we’ll face torture, but not death. I don’t know which is kinder, and if they’re gonna do me a favor on that note.”

Jackson sighs and picks up a bit more speed as the bike goes down a singular paved road through the trees, “Stiles, they won’t hesitate to play dirty. They despise us, but they really can’t stand Derek. They think he’s some sort of feral monster that is trying to gain an army or something.”

“I don’t know if I could disagree with such a statement-“

The bike skids to a stop, and a low growl escapes Jackson, “Don’t talk about my alpha that way.”

“Jackson,” Stiles quietly murmurs, feeling some fear seeping its way into Stiles’ words, “please…”

Jackson shakes his head and looks towards the handlebars to his motorcycle, “Just- I’m sorry. It’s instinctual for me to protect Derek like that… But I know what you’re saying. While he may not be the animal they say he is, it doesn’t carry over to the fact that he can be a real asshole sometimes…”

Stiles is still afraid, and is slightly shaking from where he’s forced to be plastered against Jackson’s back on the bike.

“You need to calm down,” the beta whispers, “I’m not going to hurt you. I never could. My wolf recognizes that you’re carrying my alpha’s pup. The only thing I’d ever do is protect you, okay?”

That eases some of Stiles’ nerves, “O-Oh… Well… I didn’t- I didn’t know…”

“Yeah, it’s one reason we’re so upset with Derek. He wasn’t necessarily lying about the whole instinct to protect thing. We thought he was kind of endangering you with how he just brushed you off…”

Stiles furrows his brow as Jackson begins to drive them forward again, “Is that why the other people in there were yelling at Derek?”

Jackson nods, “He’s an idiot for that, honestly. He thinks that you just being physically away from him will be enough to protect you, but he’s not really wanting to think it through. You’re always going to be tied to him because of this pup, and you’re going to be a prime target for a lot of the people that Derek has pissed off over the years since he’s been the alpha in our gang. I think he just doesn’t want to admit that his almighty dick decided to knot an omega and got them pregnant. He’s always boasted that he could hold it back and that he could always pull out before he came.”

The description has Stiles grimacing, “But he didn’t with me… He- he knotted me and we were stuck together for a bit…”

Jackson hits the brakes again, “What!?”

“God, could you stop braking like that!?” Stiles hisses as he makes sure that he didn’t bump his stomach too harshly and that everything is okay, “You’re going to kill me or something if you keep doing that!”

Jackson looks at Stiles with wide eyes, “You said that Derek knotted you?”

“Yes, he did, okay!?” Stiles’ cheeks burn and he averts his gaze from the beta, “Why does that matter?”

“Because Derek’s never knotted anyone. Like, ever.”

Stiles frowns, “Uh, I’d find that hard to believe. From what I’ve heard, he practically has one all the time for all of the omegas he sleeps with.”

Jackson shakes his head, “Having sex with omegas is different from knotting them. I told you, Derek always pulls out before then. Dude has the best control I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, and how do you know this?”

Jackson sighs and once again continues down the road, “Once, we were outside of a club when Derek brought an omega with him to the back. I remember that they were a lanky little pale thing, no offense, but you could smell the anxiousness rolling off of them that only a virgin has.”

Stiles scowls, “Okay, just- get to the point here.”

“The omega was going into heat when Derek found them. Someone must’ve slipped something into their drink, or their suppressants failed them like you mentioned they had with you. Either way, they had all of us betas staring with our mouths watering at them. Derek didn’t even break a sweat. He was just so calm and composed, like fucking this omega was nothing but a job he had to do. We were all beside ourselves while Derek just began having sex with the omega with an impassive face, as though he were bored, almost. The omega was too far gone to notice anything, but Derek pulled out right before anything happened like it was the easiest thing to do, and he made sure that all of his come went onto the ground rather than in the omega. They were just brain dead on the hood of the car Derek fucked them on, and they didn’t even notice as Derek tucked himself back into his jeans. He hadn’t even popped a knot. To hear that he did that with you… that’s- that’s almost impossible to believe, but- …”

Stiles’ mouth is hanging open, “W-What are you saying?”

“If it weren’t for the fact that you’re actually pregnant, I wouldn’t believe you when you said that Derek knotted you,” Jackson admits sheepishly as they turn off onto another paved road.

That makes Stiles blush, “So I’m what, his magical exception?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson murmurs, and it leaves Stiles reeling as the beta takes him back to the city.

Chapter Text

“Seriously, you need to keep an eye out for yourself at all times. You may never know who may be aware of what’s happened,” Jackson advises Stiles again as he drops him off about a block or two away from Scott’s apartment building, “You’re going to have to take any precaution necessary after this. One slip up could cost you or your friend-“ Jackson’s eyes dart to Stiles’ stomach for a split second before they come back up again, “in serious danger. Or worse, you could even get yourselves killed.”

Stiles sighs, and the phone Jackson gave him feels like an anvil in his pocket, “I know. I’ve got to be seriously careful now… Just- thank you. I can message you guys whenever I need it, right?”

“Yes,” Jackson puts his helmet back on and nods to Stiles, “Now, I’ve gotta get back. Derek and Erica have probably busted several more holes into the walls, and I’m the only one who knows how to fix that shit properly.”

Jackson is about to ride of when Stiles stops him, “Jackson, wait!”

The beta brakes and turns to the omega, looking a little annoyed at being stopped, “What?”

Stiles comes a little closer, trying to make sure that anyone that is passing by them on the sidewalk can’t hear them talking, “That tattoo of yours… Derek has it too, but on his back…” Jackson’s eyes widen a little underneath the visor of his helmet, “What is it?”

“It’s a triskele,” Jackson murmurs, “It’s our symbol for the gang… The three swirls represent the parts of a pack. It’s what means the most to us...”

Stiles is about to walk off when Jackson asks his own question.

“You- you said that you saw Derek’s… The one that he has on his back…” he mutters, his gaze trying to understand Stiles as he looks at him, “How did you know about it?”

“I saw it that night,” Stiles softly replies, his hand holding onto his other arm in slight embarrassment, “Derek took his shirt off and stuff… I never got to ask him what it was, and I only got reminded about it when you showed me yours back at the club.”

Jackson nods once, “We all have it. It’s part of the initiation into the group… I guess that Derek really did do a lot of firsts with you. He never does more than open his fly with most omegas.”

With that, Jackson rides off, and Stiles is left standing on the curb as he tries to figure out what that’s also supposed to mean.

Scott is waiting at the apartment for when Stiles gets back, but thankfully, he doesn’t look tired.

“Someone asked to take my shift after I took a nap for three hours,” Scott says as he hugs Stiles tightly once he’s through the door, “so now I can stay up and worry about you like I told you I would.”

Stiles laughs quietly, “Scott, sometimes I don’t know what I’m going to do about you…”

“It’s fine. Usually no one does,” the alpha pauses for a second, “Stiles, what happened? Did you and that guy you were talking to find Derek?”

Stiles bites his lip and takes a step back until there’s some space in between him and his best friend, “Uh, I guess you could say that… There’s a lot of private things with them, but… I managed to get to talk to him.”

“What did he say?” Scott looks like he’s about to explode from his concern.

“He wanted nothing to do with it.”

Scott’s mouth falls open, “He- he what?”

Stiles sighs and takes a seat on the couch, only to put his face in his hands once he’s seated, “He told me that I was only supposed to be a one-night stand, and apparently, I’m only limited to that amount of time. He warned me that I was in danger around him and that I would be safer away. He even tried to convince me to give the baby up, Scott.”

His friend’s eyes flash red – but it’s so much weaker and fainter than Derek’s when they bleed through, and Stiles supposes it’s because he’s a werewolf or something – and he growls, “What an asshole-“

“There’s nothing you can do about him, Scott. He’s already made his decision about me and the baby… Thankfully his other gang members- or pack, from what I was told- care. They argued with him while Jackson took me back here.”

“Jackson?”

“The guy I was talking to at the club.”

Scott nods, “Oh.”

“Yeah… Anyways, they’re going to give me pointers for the upcoming months.”

That has Scott scowling, “Uh… pointers?”

Now here’s the part that is going to really piss Scott off, “I may be in danger because of Derek being the father…”

A second of silence passes.

“Scott?”

Another second – there’s no change in Scott’s expression as he stands there all stiff like a corpse.

“Scott, buddy, you okay?”

“THAT ASSHOLE!” Scott roars.

Stiles shoots up from his position on the couch and grabs a hold of his friend, “Scott, dude, you need to come down. It’s not- it’s not that bad-“

“Not that bad!?” Scott echoes angrily, looking at Stiles in disbelief, “Stiles, he’s basically leaving you and your kid to die! How is that ‘not bad’!?”

He even used air quotes, oh Jesus.

“Scott, come on, man, you know I’ve handled a lot of shit throughout my life-“

“Yeah, but this is different!” Scott yells, and he begins to pace his floor in worry and pure frustration, “What if you’re heavily pregnant and someone attacks you? What if they manage to kidnap you and you get forced into premature labor or you- you lose-“ Scott’s voice breaks, and he pivots in milliseconds to face Stiles, “What if you’re in danger, and no one’s there to protect you and the baby?”

Stiles sighs, “Scott, I’m planning on getting prepared once I head back to Beacon Hills-“

“Stiles, your dad won’t be able to do anything! He can barely walk without having issues with breathing and stuff! Are you expecting him to step up to the plate and take care of you when he can’t even do that for himself!?”

Stiles’ eyes widen before they narrow angrily, and his voice is harsh, “You don’t talk about that…”

“I have to, Stiles, because you’re being so unrealistic!” Scott grips at his hair as though he’s losing his mind currently, “You could be murdered for the fact you’re pregnant with Derek Hale’s kid, and you’re going to tell me that it’s okay!? That it’s completely fine for you to become a pawn in some gang war that you were never meant to be a part of because you accidentally got pregnant with the wrong dude’s sperm!? You know people are going to ask you questions, especially when you start showing! What are you going to do then!? Quit your photography classes so you don’t have to hear people whisper about you!? Lie and say that the daddy died or will you admit that you just fucked up and had a one-night stand that ended up getting you knocked up-”

Stiles’ fist connects with Scott’s jaw, and tears rolls down his cheeks as he friend falls onto his ass on his floor in shock, “You talk about me like I’m some cheap whore…”

Scott shakes his head, as though the words shocked him back to his senses, “Stiles, I’d never-“

“I know that I messed up, okay?” Stiles cries, and his finger points at Scott as he laments, “I know that I gave myself to the wrong person. Trust me, today was enough to prove to me that I made the wrong choice in who I let knot me first. I should’ve just shot Derek down and told him no, but I didn’t, and now I’m here. This is my cross to bear, Scott, I know this. I know that I’m going to have to own up for the mistake that I made, and that was choosing Derek Hale, of all people…”

Silence lapses over the conversation for a bit, and Stiles lets a hand drape over his abdomen while Scott’s teary eyes follow.

“But this baby… this pup… this life I’m making and somehow weaving together from such miniscule things… That isn’t a mistake. That isn’t what I regret. I don’t care if I’m damned either from being a single parent or having Derek Hale’s kid in general, because this child can’t control that. It couldn’t decide who slept with who and who ended up getting pregnant. I shouldn’t punish them for my mistake- for my choices. So if I end up dead, that’s not the baby’s fault. It’s Derek Hale’s.”

With that, Stiles heads back into the guest room he’s staying in, and collapses onto the bed.

Stiles spends about half a day more in New York. During that time, Scott is extremely apologetic and tries to make up to Stiles in various ways, like making him breakfast or even packing up his things for him while he ate. The pack – that’s what Stiles is calling the Wolfsbane gang now – texts him throughout that time, asking him if he’s got morning sickness and if he’s eating the right things through the anonymous numbers they text him with. They all have their own personalities, Stiles learns, as they say various things that differ from one another. One person tells him to drink certain teas to help with nausea while another explains what defense classes and other lessons he needs to take before he’s “too fat for it”.

Stiles supposes that last one is Jackson.

Still, he replies with thank you’s or I know’s by the time he sends them all a text to alert them he’s getting on his plane to get back home. He’s thankfully got a nice seat by the window, and since he legally had to put that he’s pregnant on his ticket, he gets the entire row to himself in case he has to rush to the bathroom for whatever reason. It’s also because, like Scott mentioned when he first arrived, unfamiliar scents can make him sickly, but thankfully, whoever sent him the text about teas was right, and his small thermos and jug of lemon and ginger tea helps him immensely throughout the flight.

By the time he lands, he’s got almost twenty messages in his inbox as he walks to the baggage claim area, and all of them range from more advice to wishing him luck with the plane and everything. He sends one more mass text to assure them that he didn’t crash or anything, and he gets into his Jeep he left in the parking lot before his initial flight to New York.

For a second, he panics and thinks that maybe someone tampered with his car when he remembers what Jackson had supposedly texted him: get a rental car, just in case.

Thankfully, in some sense, Stiles’ Jeep can be unreliable at times, so it’s not unusual for him to call up a tow truck and say that it won’t start again. So that’s what he ends up doing. Sure, he may end up paying a bit more money than he would’ve liked, but that’s what he’s going to have to deal with from now on with this little bugger inside of him, and even then on after he or she comes out of him.

He ends up getting a simple Nissan Altima and drives back to Beacon Hills. His father frowns when he sees the rental, but he’s acclimated enough to know that the Jeep is an issue that he doesn’t pose any questions as Stiles walks in through the door.

Well, about the car, of course.

“Did you find him?” he asks as Stiles sets his bag down by the door.

“Yeah, but-“ Stiles doesn’t face his dad, “he didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby…”

His dad makes a move toward his shotgun.

“Dad, don’t,” Stiles sighs and steps between his father and his gun case, “It’s- it’s a complicated thing. Shooting him won’t help accomplish anything.”

“Stiles, I’ll be damned if some asshole think he can just get you pregnant and abandon you like this. A baby is a two-way street- a fifty-fifty effort. He needs to man up and be the father that you and your kid need.”

Stiles shakes his head, “Dad, no. I get that you want me to be supported and whatnot, but- just let it be. The dad doesn’t need to be brought up into this-“

His father glares at his pregnant son, “Yes he does, Stiles. This is his baby too, and by God, he should be here for the both of you. Not wherever the hell he is in New York.”

“His idea is that it’s better for him to stay there, dad, and maybe-“ Stiles remembers how someone in the pack had texted him saying that he needed to be wary of someone slipping him actual wolfsbane, because it could kill the baby if it was a werewolf like Derek, “maybe that’s a good thing…”

“What do you mean, Stiles?”

“He’s- he’s not exactly the best kind of person to have around a baby or whatever,” Stiles rubs at the back of his neck.

That sparks his father’s curiosity, “Stiles… Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Stiles swallows nervously, and he drops his gaze from his father, “I, uh, dad… I suppose that telling you now is better than later, especially with what be coming my way…”

“Stiles, you’re starting to scare me,” his dad murmurs with concern.

“Dad, I know you’re probably not going to like this, but… Remember how the station made you memorize the various gangs around the country and who led them while you were still working?”

His father scows, “I’m seriously not liking the sound of this, Stiles.”

“What are the main gangs in New York, dad? Well, from what you can remember…”

“Well I mean there’s the Crips and the Bloods up there among several others,” his father squints as he tries to recall the others, “I know that there was an issue a decade or so back where there was a violent clash with an anti-were gang and an all pro-were gang. About thirty people died, and most were from a family that ran the werewolf gang… The Wolf’s Pain or something?”

“Wolfsbane,” Stiles corrects.

His father nods, “Yes, it was them and some group with silver in their name… It was a big deal for a while. It resulted in a street war that lasted a week before the police were finally able to gain control. The Wolfsbane group got back at the others by prosecuting them. They got a few of their main, superior members jailed for life because of that on those murder charges. They’ve been strong rivals ever since… I don’t understand, Stiles. How is this relative to the baby?”

“Just- dad, do you know who runs the Wolfsbane pack now?”

“I don’t really remember, but… I think it went to one of the only members of the family that was left alive after the rival gang massacred the rest. He stepped up to be its leader right around the time I had to medically retire.”

Stiles nods along, “Do remember a name? First? Last? Anything?”

“Um, something like nail?”

“Hale.”

His father furrows his brow, “Seriously, Stiles, I don’t understand how this relates to your baby…”

“Dad, you’re probably going to go try and get your gun again, but-“ Stiles pauses as his sees his father’s expression sour even further, “the baby’s father… You’re probably not going to believe me when I tell you this, but it’s true… Dad, the one and only leader of the Wolfsbane gang itself is related to this, I promise you.”

His father’s eyes widen, “Stiles, you don’t know that for sure-“

“His name is Derek Hale, dad, and he’s the father.”

His father nearly sends himself to the hospital he’s so angry and just emotional in general. Stiles has to calm him down and, once again, talk him out of going up to New York to shoot his baby daddy in a justified fit of fatherly rage.

“Stiles, he definitely needs to own up for this,” his dad coughs for a few moments before continuing as he settles in his recliner, “s-someone might hurt you because of his kid growing inside of you.”

“Trust me, his pack has informed me of that,” Stiles murmurs, “Look, Derek is an asshole, but the others aren’t. In fact, they’ve been giving me advice on how to keep myself and this little squirt here safe.”

His father’s scowl worsens, “And how do you know that they aren’t out to hurt you too?”

“Because they’re affected by it, dad,” Stiles looks down to his still-flat stomach, “It’s their alpha’s child… Dynamics is apparently a huge part of their everyday life. They see me as Derek’s equal or something, because I’m the omega carrying his pup. I know, a harsh word for a baby, but still… I’m essentially their pack mom, from what they’ve told me.”

Stiles’ dad coughs again, “J-Jesus, Stiles… Don’t tell me that you’re now affiliated with them…”

Stiles shakes his head as he pours his dad some of the lemon and ginger tea he just freshly made for himself once things calmed a little unlike his stomach, “No, not necessarily. I’m only talking to them because they worry about Derek’s kid and me because of the danger we’re in by biological association alone just like I do. It was actually safer for me to come back here where the Silverbloods weren’t stationed and around every corner.”

“Stiles, both of the gangs are spanned out across the country. They’re practically everywhere, no matter the size of the groups that are scattered about. It’s just that New York is their home ground. You’re still in immediate danger, wherever you go. In fact, California is their second biggest concentration.”

Stiles’ stomach turns, but for another reason other than the baby currently residing somewhere around it, “W-What?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Stiles. This is a whole lot bigger than you think,” his father sighs and rubs at his face, “Well, I know you, and if you’re anything, you’re stubborn. That means that I know you won’t back down from this ever. So, as your dad, I’m going to do the only thing I can do now… I’m going to help you get prepared to protect yourself and your kid from whatever bastard that wants to hurt the two of you.”

Stiles swallows some of his tea and nods, “O-Okay… Thanks, dad.”

“It’s what I’m here for kid,” his dad sips at his own drink, “Now hurry up and finish your drink. You’re going to learn how to clean and use a gun before anything else.”

Over the next month, Stiles learns how to fire and clean a gun just like his dad said, along with various different types of self-defense. He spends every waking moment either at karate classes, with his dad at the shooting range, or in his bed texting the pack back in New York.

They ask Stiles how the baby is and if he’s doing fine, but Stiles never asks about Derek. He makes sure not to.

The number, who Stiles guesses might be Erica from what the other numbers have mentioned, asks him if the tea is working and suggests other dietary supplements or tricks to ease with various biological issues he might have to contend with. Another, which Stiles supposes is Boyd, tells him certain yoga programs or breathing techniques that can help with the back pains that have started up with him. Jackson’s number, Stiles is pretty sure, starts recommending different tactics to protecting himself now that his bump is going to start showing.

And it has.

It’s barely there, just a round tightness to Stiles’ stomach that wasn’t there before, but that can be thankfully hidden under his baggier t-shirts. He knows that his scent is a dead giveaway, though, but thanks to Erica’s teas, he’s found a natural, organic option of scent blockers that can mellow out the sweet scent of pregnancy. He knows that it won’t last as a cloak forever. He eventually won’t look chunky or fat anymore, and that it’s going to be blindingly obvious that he’s carrying a kid rather than a beer gut from too many tacos or something.

It’s why he asks for a temporary leave from his college, stating that his dad needs his care. Thankfully, the school understands, and Stiles won’t be under penalty for missing the next five to six months of school, and he’ll be able to come back after the baby is born without issue. Well, without as much issue as one could expect when they’re told that they might become a target in a gang war every day.

Still, he feels weird now when he takes a shower – now having to rub soap over his ever-growing bump as he gets ready, or how he can notice a difference in it each day. He’s also begun to crave things that make his father cringe – like oranges with butter on them or noodles with black olives and a hint of whip cream. It’s made him put on a little weight, because he sometimes ends up binging on curly fries or some that would’ve made his old food-conscious self wince, but the doctor said it’s nothing to worry about when he comes in for his various check-ups.

Everything is good right now. Everything is okay.

And then it’s not at the same time, somehow.

A text comes in from one of the pack the morning that Stiles’ feels his first kick.

It’s as though his baby was telling him that something went wrong on the either side of the country despite it only being four-and-a-half months old by this point. It was strange, to have his pay phone vibrate at the same time that his kid kicked his stomach harshly.

Either way, after the initial shock of his kid practically no-scoping his liver, Stiles manages to slightly waddle – yes, he’s at that point now – to answer the text.

He nearly drops the phone after he reads it.

The Silverbloods got Derek. You need to hide. Now.

Oh god. Now? It’s happening now out of all times?

Stiles is about to destroy the phone like Jackson had instructed a few months ago when another text comes in.

We’ll be coming to get you. Just make sure that you’ve covered your tracks. The Silverbloods thankfully don’t know who you are, but they have methods of getting information one way or another. We’re already making plans with our members in Cali to go ahead and start a lookout for you. Head to Beacon Hills and go to the Preserve there. Follow the road that leads deep into the woods. You’ll find a partially burnt out house there. Stay in one of the untouched rooms and lock yourself inside and get yourself ready like you’ve taught yourself over the past few months. When one of us gets there after a few hours, we’ll slip a piece of paper with our symbol on it underneath the door, and I’ll speak to you directly. Hope to see you soon. Stay safe. -J

Stiles sends a quick reply, a letter response just to let Jackson, he’s guessing, know that he got the message, before he removes the battery from the phone like he had mentioned previously. The omega makes a grab for his bag – one that he’s kept prepped just in case he needs to go on the run in a second’s notice – as he slip various things, like deodorant and prenatal vitamins, he keeps in one spot on his nightstand into it.

“Dad!” he yells as his hands slightly shake as he shoves the gun his father bought him into the side while he grabs the holster it came with, “I’m going out to the gym!”

It’s a code they made after his father found out about the identity of the baby’s father, and he’s thankful that they laid out all the terms just in case someone had been listening in on their conversations.

His dad rushes up the stairs as fast as he can without hurting himself, “Oh, uh, did you pack your sneakers?”

Did you get the gun?

“Yes, dad, I got my shoes. They’re new ones too, so you won’t have to worry.”

Yes, I do.

His dad nods, “What about deodorant?”

Stiles snorts, because that isn’t a code, “Yes, dad, I’ve got everything I need just in case. I’ll be back in an hour once I’m done with my yoga, okay?”

I’ll be back whenever I can be. I love you.

His dad nods with teary eyes, “O-Okay, kid… Have fun. Don’t hurt yourself.”

I love you too, and you better not die, or I’m going to end up shooting Derek Hale for impregnating my only son and getting him murdered because he’s an idiot.

Stiles hugs his dad tightly for a second, and it causes some tightness in his throat that escapes by tears once he pulls back.

“Damn hormones,” Stiles mutters jokingly, but his dad doesn’t really laugh.

“Come on, they may close soon.”

You’ve got to leave while you still can.

They walk downstairs until Stiles is at the door, and he nods at his father as he slips him the pay phone and its battery, “Let’s hope I burn some of these calories off, yeah?”

Burn the whole thing. Make sure none of it is left.

His father nods, “Maybe next time I’ll be up to joining you.”

Got it. Be careful.

Stiles parts with stinging eyes as he gets into the second rental car he’s gotten this month out of apparently rightful paranoia, and pulls out of the driveway to leave his dad staring unhappily at his tail lights.

The house that the text spoke of is creepy when Stiles finally finds it, but he swallows down his fear and some of his leftover tea before he exits the car. He makes sure to park it where it won’t be seen when you initially roll up to the house, and thankfully, it’s hard to distinguish from the black chard wall that was once covered in white siding.

It sends a chill up Stiles’ spine, but he still enters with his bag in hand. He makes sure to not unsettle as much dust and ash as he can as he walks through parts of the house that the flames hadn’t gotten to touch. Thankfully, not much wildlife or foliage has made its way through there either, so the room that has a functioning lock on the door isn’t too bad once Stiles barricades himself inside of it. Thankfully the windows are blackened out by soot, so even the moth-eaten curtains will bring a sense of comfort as Stiles pulls them over the glass panes, just in case.

He settles himself down in one of the corners of the room and opens his bag. He now has to snack all the time throughout the day, so thankfully he’s been wise enough to pack a few things that he can nibble on while he waits for Jackson and whoever is coming with them to get here. His stomach growls a little, and Stiles pats his bump to settle it. However, what happens isn’t what he was expecting.

His baby kicks his hand.

Startled and in awe, Stiles looks down to his pooch and pokes at it, only to see it jerk one direction when his baby specifically soccer kicks his bladder.

“Oh god, I have to pee now. Thanks you tiny asshole, you ruined the moment,” Stiles whispers in a hiss as he nearly pisses himself from that kick alone, and he quickly run-waddle over to the opposite side of the room to relieve himself before that can happen.

He groans quietly in relief and he tucks himself back into his somehow still-loose sweats while he walks back to his corner where his bag rests on the floor. He sits down beside it again and begins to ruffle through his things, and he gasps softly as he finds something he didn’t intend on bringing.

His camera.

It must’ve been on his nightstand with all of his other things, and in his haste to get away, Stiles must have accidentally thrown it in there alongside everything else.

Still, he unzips its case and turns it on, finding the pictures that Derek took on it still saved onto the memory card. His eyes glaze over a bit as he looks at them – looks at Derek’s tan arm and hand scooping up slick from his exposed hole as he laid himself out on the bike. He also finds the ones of Derek holding onto him – of him tracing sweet nothings between various moles and freckles that speckled his skin as though he were a pale sparrow’s egg.

A shiver runs through Stiles as his cock hardens in the small space left in his sweats that the bump isn’t hogging up, and his breaths become a little more rushed as slick dampens the back of his legs.

This… this hadn’t happened before.

Sure, Stiles would occasionally get a little horny or needy for an orgasm, but it was usually something he didn’t partake in just in case he needed to run in the next second. Thankfully, the paranoia from getting found out or followed was able to keep his dick at bay.

Until now, apparently.

A curious hand slowly slips past the semi-tight hem of his sweats, and a small whimper escapes Stiles as a finger slips over the head of his hardened length, the tip wet with precome.

He did read about a new libido appearing when an omega was pregnant, but usually, it happened around the later three month mark. Then again, Stiles wasn’t around his alpha all that much, and when he was even near enough to Derek where it could be triggered, it wasn’t exactly the happiest of times.

It’s one reason Stiles is so surprised that he feels this way, because he’s not supposed to. Most omegas that aren’t around the alpha that got them pregnant don’t have the urge to get knotted or anything, but yet here Stiles is, with one hand down his pants like a teenager and another holding the camera so he can view the pictures that Derek had taken of Stiles during their small amount of time spent together that night.

He doesn’t know if it’s pathetic, or that he’s too far gone with the way that his hand slips up and down his dick to care enough about it, really.

His hips move up just a little – about as much as they can with the weight of Stiles’ baby bump weighing them down – as his back and neck stretch out against the wall as his breathing hitches and quickens with a hiss.

He thinks of Derek and how he pinned him to his motorcycle – about how Derek growled above him and shoved his way inside. The way that he talked so sinfully about filling Stiles up with both his come and his pups. The red shade of his irises as he locked himself inside of Stiles to make sure the latter happened.

Stiles hasn’t gotten to do this in a long while, and he’s embarrassed to find himself climaxing early on into the whole process.

Come thankfully paints his hand rather than the insides of his sweats, but either way, it leaves Stiles blinking up at the ceiling in dazed confusion.

Since when had he thought about Derek like that again?

After a quick change of clothes and a grueling amount of time spent staring longingly at the photos that Derek himself had taken, Jackson finally slips an image of the triskele under the door to tell him he’s there. Stiles quickly stuffs his things into his bag and zips it before he approaches the door.

“Stiles?” Jackson asks cautiously.

Stiles opens the door and squints as he sees Jackson getting flanked by several other people that look at him with concern, “Uh, hi? I thought you’d guys been a bigger party for such a big gang, but-”

“We’re the only ones that could make it. Everyone else is scattered about for right now,” Jackson states, “Now shut up and come here, Stiles.”

In seconds he’s getting hugged by numerous pairs of arms, and he squeaks a little out of surprise as he feels noses sniff sporadically about his neck.

“You guys okay?”

The werewolves, going by the way their eyes flash both blue and gold, rumble and begin to move him away from his sanctuary.

“Hey! My stuff’s in there!”

“Boyd,” Jackson grits out from where he’s flanking Stiles’ right, “get Stiles’ things. We need to go. Now.”

Boyd, a dark-skinned wall of muscle, nods and goes back into the room to retrieve Stiles’ bag as a blonde girl and Jackson take him out behind the shell of the house.

“Uh, can I get an explanation as to what’s happening right now?”

“The Silverbloods found our HQ in New York,” Jackson whispers angrily as they lead Stiles past his rental car, “They’ve got access to a lot of our information. They know about your phone and that you’re here in Cali. I’m not sure if they know why we’re talking to you, but I know for a fact that they’d investigate.”

Stiles shakes his head as he gets buckled into the back seat with the blonde woman, “Why would they though? Maybe I’m just some kid that saw too much and needs to be kept quiet or something like a good ol’ fashioned mafia interrogation trope.”

Jackson sighs as he lets Boyd get into the passenger seat to hand Stiles his bag, “No, that’s not it at all. We lent you a personal phone of ours and we texted you numerous times. That’s enough to warrant some questions. Not only that, we’re sure that they’ve been taking their sweet time with Derek. They’ve probably tortured stuff out of him by now…”

Stiles’ heart unexpectedly pangs at that as Jackson shifts their car into drive and guns it out of there, “T-They what? …”

“Tortured him,” the blonde beside him repeats in a murmur, and she eyes Stiles sadly, “The Silverbloods like to get information the dirty way. They make immense pain seem like a truth serum to get what they want out of people.”

Stiles thinks about it – thinks about Derek getting pinned down and having names and places and people beat out of him – and he shivers and forces his mind to abandon the image, “H-How did they catch him?”

“Derek was out doing a patrol of our borders in the city with me last night and they lured us into an alleyway. They were able to knock me out with a wolfsbane derived sedative. Derek wasn’t so lucky… When I came to, he was already gone and HQ was under attack,” Jackson’s voice is full of shame as he drives them out onto the highway.

“Wait, so wolfsbane is actually a thing?”

The blonde beside Stiles nods, “Yes, it’s a plant that actually weakens us and makes us sick. We decided to name our gang that in irony, because packs make us stronger.”

“Oh,” Stiles lets a hand absently fall onto his bump, “D-Do you think they know about me and pipsqueak, then?”

“More than likely,” Boyd murmurs from the front, and he pivots back to look at the blonde as Stiles’ fear climaxes while his baby kicks violently against his skin, “Erica, calm Stiles down. Having a panic attack won’t do him or the pup any good.”

Stiles winces at the word pup again, but knows he’ll have to get acclimated with the term since he’s going to be an official part of the pack now, despite the fact it’s more so of their own witness protection.

The blonde – Erica, Stiles vaguely remembers Boyd saying now – leans over and begins to rub circles in the crook of Stiles’ elbow. At first, it feels weird and Stiles nearly tries to shake Erica’s hand off, but he finds that his baby begins to settle from assaulting his insides, and that breathing is slightly easier now.

“Your pup recognizes that it’s pack,” Erica murmurs, her caramel eyes resting on the protruding bump, “Hey there, little guy or gal. It’s me, Erica. I’m your auntie!” she looks up at Stiles, “Have you ever done this?”

For some reason, this misplaced baby talk has Stiles relaxing in his car seat, “No, I’ve never talked to the bump… Well, not really… It’s always been things like ‘stop crushing my bladder’ or ‘let me pass by peanut butter in peace’.”

Erica smiles softly, looking at Stiles’ bump longingly, “Have you found out the gender yet?”

“No,” Stiles whispers, “I- I kinda want it to be a surprise, you know? Besides, the doctor told me I couldn’t anyways, even if I wanted to. The little bugger wouldn’t face the camera for him to see.”

“Figures that would be the case,” Erica leans down to talk to Stiles’ bump again, “Hey, next time your daddy goes to the doctor, you need to let him see if you’re a boy or a girl. That way your auntie Erica here can by things in the appropriate colors.”

“You can get gendered things, Erica. I won’t pressure my child into thinking the gender it was born as is the gender it will always be, because it’s not my choice to tell them the person that be for the rest of their lives. If they want to wear dresses, then they can. If they want to wear flannel, then they can. The only thing I won’t let them wear is fanny packs, because that’s a horrible taste in fashion.”

Erica’s red lips widen in their grin, “We’re going to get along perfectly.”

Jackson drives them to some motel in a city that Stiles has never heard of. The only important thing is that the city isn’t in California anymore, so it means that there’s less chance of the Silverbloods finding them as they stop to rest for the night.

Not only that, Stiles has to get out of the car and waddle around a bit to ease his back and ankle pains. Erica has to end messaging him when Stiles whines about it in their hotel room. Apparently she’s obsessed with the baby’s health and safety, which, in turn, means that she’ll pamper Stiles since he’s still carrying the darn thing.

“Thank you,” he murmurs as lays out on the mattress, “I don’t know how much longer I could’ve lasted.”

“If you weren’t pregnant, I’d hit you,” Jackson says as he begins to lay papers out on the table in the room, but it doesn’t hold much heat or threat to it, “Okay, we need to make a game plan on how to get Derek back.”

Erica continues rubbing Stiles’ feet, even as he jolts up, “What?”

“We need to get Derek back as soon as we can. The Silverbloods wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, so the more time we spend sitting around in motel rooms, the higher the chance of them taking care of Derek will get. Not only that, they’ll also get more information out of him, which will put all of us, and mostly you, Stiles, in danger.”

Stiles nods, “Oh… Do you have any leads?”

“The Silverbloods only function and carry out their business in specific parts of New York,” Jackson states over a large map of the state that has certain parts of it highlighted and outlined, “that means we have a general idea of where they might be.”

“Won’t they play dirty and use a spot that you wouldn’t expect or be able to get to?”

Erica stops rubbing Stiles’ feet as she and Boyd stare at him while Jackson scowls, “I- I suppose that could be a possibility…”

Stiles shoos Erica away as he stuggles to stand up, and huffs from the exertion as he finally makes his way over to the table, “Just- tell me what you know and I’ll see what my amazing brain can do…”

“This right here is a section of strip that they control,” Jackson points to a highlighted area of the map, “They have the owners of the businesses tipped off really well. It’s why some places don’t want werewolves in their establishments, and since it’s not illegal to discriminate against werewolves like that, they’re allowed to kick us out if they find out we’re there.”

Stiles nods, “Yeah, that would make sense. Pay off the public and you can get anyone annexed.”

“Exactly,” Jackson moves his finger up the paper to where a club resides in the exact middle of the highlighted strip, “This right here is the main club that the Silverbloods meet at. We’ve never been able to get to that point because of all the people they have patrolling the area for us. Only humans can get in.”

Stiles frowned, “Have you guys gotten passed them?”

“Even if we did, the places on this strip have mountain ash along their doorways, meaning we can’t enter,” Jackson notices Stiles’ confused expression and sighs, “It’s like a wolfsbane version of salt with demons. We can’t cross a mountain ash border. It’s physically impossible.”

“But humans can do it without any issues, right?”

Jackson nods, “Yes, that’s why none of us have been able to get into that HQ of theirs over the past decade. It’s, sadly, ingenious for the fact that we don’t have any humans in our gang, either.”

Stiles grins, “You do now.”

“What?” Jackson scowls, “Stiles, what are you- no. No. Absolutely not.”

“Jackson, this could be our only chance to find Derek while there still is a chance to get him back. They’re not going to suspect me, okay? I’m a pregnant omega. What harm can I do?”

“Exactly. You’re pregnant, Stiles, and you may not be able to defend yourself properly,” Erica growls softly from Stiles’ side, angry at the thought of the baby somehow getting hurt.

Stiles rolls his eyes and snorts at the werewolves beside him, “Look, you need someone to get inside that HQ, okay? I’m the only one here that can do it. We need me to go. It’s not a big deal.”

“Stiles, the Silverbloods aren’t a joke. They can’t just be so easily dismissed,” Boyd speaks up from the side.

“I know that they aren’t. Trust me, I’ve been aware since you all have been screaming at me about the dangers of having Derek’s kid are since you found out I was pregnant with it. Look, I can play the sympathy card, alright. Humans may not be as instinctual as they are with werewolves, but they still have them either way. Knowing biology, most would want alphas to guard a place like that. They’re big and strong, but also, very easy to trick once hormones get into the mix.”

Erica frowns at him, “Stiles, what are you getting at?”

“I’m getting at the possibility that I could get myself into the club under the pretense that I’m a pregnant omega in distress. I mean, I could also pick a few different approaches, but I know this one is a sure fire way to get me at least in the building.”

Erica sighs, “But what about after that?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to roll with it,” Stiles admits, “An alpha usually reacts to an omega’s distress in numerous ways.”

Jackson growls, “I don’t like this plan…”

They’re all surprised as they hear, “It doesn’t matter if you like it or not because we don’t have much of a choice, Jackson.”

“Boyd, you’re with him on this!?”

“I don’t like the idea of sending Stiles in there just as much as you, but Stiles is right. This may be the only method of getting information on Derek’s location, and Stiles is the only one that can go get it. We don’t have the time to try and make up something that will at least have the chance of working like this does, and you know it.”

Stiles nods, “See, Jackson? You guys don’t have the luxury of having other options by this point. Besides, the Silverbloods got access to your information. That means that they’ll know about your resources and your tactics by now. You’re going to have to make a plan like this from scratch.”

Jackson slams his hand down onto the table, “God dammit, I hate those assholes! Just- fine! We’ll go with this plan… But Stiles, if you get hurt or figured out, I won’t have the heart to tell you I told you so.”

Stiles nods, “To be fair, Jackson, my friend warned me about hooking up with Derek. I just never listen.”

“Huh, something that we can agree on,” Jackson smiles tiredly, and looks back down at his map, “Now, come here, Stiles. You’re about to get a one-oh-one in infiltrating a gang’s headquarters.”

Stiles hums, “My dad would be so proud…”

They drive through several more towns and states, and the plan develops as they travel by car for a day or so. Stiles understands what he has to do now as they enter the state of New York itself.

It’s just wondering why he’s going out of his way to save Derek – the person who thought he wasn’t worth his own time and would rather abandon him and his baby before anything else – that’s the problem.

“Okay, tell me one last time, if an alpha grabs at you-“

“I twist their arm behind their head or use my scared pregnancy hormones against them,” Stiles repeats for what feels like the hundredth time, “Look, I took self-defense classes for months before this. I know how to protect myself, even with my lil’ baby bump causing some issues, okay?”

Jackson sighs, “I just want to make sure you know what to do in every possible situation, Stiles… This is like handing you over to the Silverbloods on a, no pun intended, silver platter.”

Stiles rolls his eyes as the others in the car make sure that no one’s been tailing them as he gets out onto the sidewalk, “Look, I’ll be fine. It’s in every fiber of my being to keep my kid safe, no matter if it’s inside of me or not. Now go before anyone sees you.”

He shuts the door before he pulls the jacket Jackson lent him – which is thankfully not leather – as the cold breeze picks up. He shivers a little as he adjusts the fabric around his middle, just enough to where you couldn’t tell he had a baby bump if you didn’t actually look hard enough. Erica also covered him with omega pheromones to somewhat mask the scent of pregnancy, so that way the alphas that he’ll encounter will smell his scent of distress first and the baby second. He manages to use some of the fear of getting caught to his advantage, his eyes growing wide as he approaches the spot where two men in all black are profiling everyone. They overly smell of alpha as their scent gets blown slightly downwind.

Stiles is about to pass them when one steps in front of him, “Hey, you. Come here for a second.”

The wind whips at Stiles’ face, making his eyes sting enough to where they water slightly, “M-Me?”

“Yeah,” the guy says with a slight Brooklyn accent, “What’s got you so riled up, beautiful?”

Stiles puts on his best face of terror, “S-Some werewolf just tried to assault me!”

The alpha before Stiles quickly pulls him in close, “What?”

“S-Some werewolf cornered me in an alleyway and tried to hurt me,” when the alpha’s warily eye Stiles, he moves his jacket back a little to showcase his apparent bump as a tear manages to roll down his cheek, “H-He tried to hurt my baby… Please, I’m only five months along and my alpha is at home. He took my cell and b-broke it and I have no way to call my alpha.”

The alphas growl and pull Stiles close, “Oh, you poor thing. Come here.”

Stiles sniffles and leans into one of the men despite the disgusted roll in his stomach, “T-Thank you… I thought he might be tailing me…”

“How’d you get away sweetheart?”

“S-Someone confronted him, thankfully, and I ran while I could… He was just so strong… He pinned me to a wall and t-threatened to take my kid away from me and replace it with a- a pup…”

One alpha tsks as the other tries to slip an arm around Stiles’ waist, “Why isn’t your alpha with you?”

“Because I live up the block and- and-“ Stiles manages to get out a decent sob, “I was craving a few things I didn’t have in the kitchen, and didn’t want to w-wake him. H-He works so hard while I stay at home…”

That seems to please the alphas, just like Jackson had said. Apparently they weren’t really ones for omega rights, so it makes it that much better for Stiles to go ahead and steal information right from underneath their noses.

“Aw, what a poor thing you are,” one coos as they brush away a tear from Stiles’ cheek, “Can you tell us what this werewolf looked like?”

“H-He was taller than me with a leather jacket, ginger hair, and his eyes were a neon blue… He had a tattoo on his collar… It was s-some swirly thing I’ve never seen before… I- I can’t remember anything else…”

The alpha flanking his right curses under his breath as they begin to lead Stiles to the club in question – Play, from what the neon letters and outlines of girls’ silhouettes say – towards the back entrance, “You’re lucky you got away. Blue eyes mean that a werewolf has killed someone before.”

Jesus, that’s – Stiles shivers involuntarily when he remembers that Erica was the only one with gold irises when they bled over. He hadn’t known why color was so important until now. He’s glad that Jackson insisted that it be present in the fake description.

“Saul, you heard what he said… You know what that means. We’ve got a murderer from those scattered mutts running around here. Argent won’t be happy…”

Stiles pegs the name in his memory for later, but remains silent even as the two alphas bring him inside of the back door. The thumping of music is faint but still apparent as the two lead him through what seems like the back of the kitchen of the club until they get to what seems like a surveillance room.

“Stay here for a bit. We need you to talk to someone before you can call your alpha and go home.”

Stiles curls in on himself to make seem more vulnerable and small, “Is it the police?”

“Yes,” one smiles.

Stiles doesn’t have to be a werewolf himself to know that the man is lying.

Still, he nods along, “O-Okay…”

The two alphas thankfully leave, giving Stiles enough time to look around the room for anything he can get his hands on. There’s a few papers, but Stiles knows he won’t have enough time to look and see if it’s anything important. Jackson told him to locate something important first, then try and steal it, otherwise Stiles could get caught snooping and his cover would be totally blown, baby being real or not.

His eyes rush about the room, trying to find anything that seems useful. There’s a receipt to McDonald’s on the counter, but that won’t be useful… But there’s something on the wall… something-

Footsteps approach the room, and Stiles forces his eyes away from what looks like a map with thumbtacks pinpointing certain locations on it.

“Is he in here?” a female voice asks.

“Yes.”

Stiles pretends to be shaking a little as a woman enters the room, smiling softly towards him after she looks him over for a few seconds, “You must be the omega they were telling me about.”

Stiles nods, making sure that his voice is still wavering as he replies, “Y-Yes, ma’am…”

She coos and comes forward to kneel down and rub a few fingers through Stiles’ hair, “I bet you’re terrified, aren’t you?”

His stomach churns a little as he pretends to let the touch comfort him, “Oh yes, ma’am… I thought he was going to kill my baby…”

“Can I see?”

Her voice is sweet, but a part of Stiles tells him to not trust her as he begrudgingly complies, “S-Sure… Be careful... They’ve had enough close calls for a while…”

“Of course,” she says sincerely, and her eyes warm as she looks at the curvature of Stiles’ middle, “How far along are you?”

“Five months,” Stiles whispers, twitching a little as the woman lets her hand splay over his stomach.

Her smile brightens even more, “Oh, that’s just grand! Have you found out the gender yet?”

“No. It’s a stubborn thing and refuses to face the camera to let the doctor check and see.”

The woman’s teeth are blinding as her grins grows even further, “Oh, stubborn just like its daddy, I bet.”

“Yeah,” Stiles fake sniffles.

The woman turns to her goonies and yells at them, “I need you guys to get back out there. Who knows who might have slipped by.”

The two alphas rush out of the room to appease her.

“So,” the woman turns back to Stiles with that warm smile of hers, “I’m guessing that you want to get home to your alpha, don’t you?”

Stiles nods vigorously, “Oh yes… I’m sure he’s up and worried sick about me.”

“Oh I bet,” she laughs softly, “but before you go, could you tell me who tried to assault you?”

Stiles repeats the description that Jackson made him memorize, and the woman’s eyes crinkle at the corners in delight – especially so when Stiles mentions the swirly tattoo on the man’s collarbone.

“Alright, for your safety, I’m going to need you to pin point on this map here where you live so you can be escorted home.”

Stiles pales, “Uh, I could just call my alpha to get me. You don’t-“

“Oh, it’s not an issue, I assure you.”

That makes Stiles swallow nervously, “W-Well, if you insist…”

Stiles walks over to the map that he noticed earlier. He brings his finger to a random spot near the strip.

“I live around here, so-“

“Oh honey,” Stiles stills at the sound of the woman’s voice, which is now devoid of that sweetness Stiles had been wary of, “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”

The omega begins to turn towards her, “I don’t-“

Something hits the back of Stiles’ head, and his vision swims as he kneels down towards the floor as he whines in pain. The floor is cold against Stiles’ exposed skin as he drops to his knees almost roughly as he instinctively holds the nape of his neck.

“Jesus, you kids are so dumb. You know, I thought you were just an idiot that night that I saw you in the club with Derek Hale, but oh, this definitely proves that you’re the most ignorant person in the world.”

A pounding resonates throughout Stiles’ skull, and he brings a hand back to see it red with his blood, “H-How-“

“Your friend really likes to stick his dick where it doesn’t belong,” the woman murmurs, and she begins to pace a tight circle around Stiles as the room spins almost violently, “He left you with Derek to come flirt with my niece, from what I remember. You looked so innocent as he flirted with you out there on the dance floor. It’s like you two couldn’t see anything but one another. If only you both were as vigilant as I. Maybe then Derek would’ve been more aware that I was there instead of some other hole of the week to put his dick in.”

Stiles whines in pain as he tries to stand, but his balance is off, so he just falls to the floor before anything else.

“I probably gave you a decent concussion, so I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” she murmurs, keeping up with her pacing.

“W-Who are you?”

The woman laughs, “I’m Kate Argent, and I’m about the one person in this world that you don’t want to fuck with like this.”

After that, Stiles’ world goes black.

Chapter Text

There were a few things Stiles was sure of when Stiles finally came to.

One being that his head hurt, the second being that he was about five to nearly six months pregnant with his first kid, and the third being that once he was able to come back to his senses completely, he was going to turn Kate into a human skin rug to line the fireplace he and his dad had back in Beacon Hills.

With a groan, Stiles is able to open his eyes to narrow slits, only to close them for a few moments while the light levels out from a blinding white to something that won’t make him feel like throwing up.

That’s right. Kate told him he could have a serious concussion, and that meant that, on top of having to deal with being a decent ways along in his pregnancy, that Stiles would now have to contend with a skull-splitting headache and nausea that would put his morning sickness to shame on its worst day.

As if he didn’t already have enough shit to deal with.

Still, he manages to at least mollify a tiny nagging alongside the pounding in his head by letting a shaky head slip down to his midsection. He nearly cries in both relief and agony as he finds the bump still present and seemingly alright.

“I didn’t cut your mutt out or anything, if that’s what you were fussing about.”

Stiles nearly jolts up, but the rolling in his stomach and the searing throb in his head is pretty good at keeping him somewhat slowed and or motionless. Still, the small jerk he had done in response is enough to make him gag for a few seconds before he’s able to choke the urge to vomit stomach acid up as he squints away the water in his eyes.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot. You bumped your head on the way in here,” Kate huffs a tiny laugh from off to the side, and Stiles wishes that he could stand the light in the room enough to at least see where he and his captor are.

There’s another sound, but in a direction that’s opposite of where Stiles believes Kate to be. It sounds like gruff noises – almost like a series of clipped, irritated growls – that a dog would make whenever a squirrel is outside the window and it can’t chase it away like it wants.

Kate, in response to the animalistic sounds, huffs a laugh as she continues walking somewhere in front of Stiles, “He’s so frustrated. It must be the fact he hasn’t eaten in a day or so. Holding some fresh meat out on a feral animal isn’t a good thing, especially if it’s looking at you like you’re that new meal.”

“W-What do you mean?” Stiles stutters out, because his tongue feels like an awkward, numbing mixture of heavy lead and wet cloth.

“I’ve had a new pet as of late,” Kate says nonchalantly as the sound of metal clinking against itself resonates from where the gruff noises have grown into long, warning growls that underlie her seemingly impassive words, “I’m afraid that I’ve been a little busy too, though, and I might’ve forgotten to feed him since then.”

Stiles tries to pivot towards where he thinks Kate is, and he attempts to see what’s going on.

The light is a little bit easier to take in this time around, but it makes Stiles feel like he’s looking through some weird, dream-like kaleidoscope. Everything is bright around the edges and blurry – spread apart and repeating as though he were staring into the shattered reflection of a broken mirror – blurry and layered like his camera before he was able to correct it by fixing its focus. He blinks a few times to try and combat the effects on his vision that the concussion caused, but it only allows him a few mere milliseconds of a semi-clear image before it just reconverts itself to its previous state.

Still, he barely manages to see a foggy-looking Kate beside what Stiles guesses are metal bars to a cage, and what seems like a mass inside of it, before it just gets to be too much for him to handle. With a hiss, Stiles is forced to close his eyes tightly once more.

“I think I’m going to throw up again,” Stiles chokes out as his gut rolls as though it were a boat on shifty waters during a storm.

Kate’s words are sneered, and Stiles supposes she’s grimacing a little as she speaks, “What’s a fresh steak dinner without a little marinade?”

Stiles hiccups and pukes just like he had feared he would, and it’s horrible to not know where to aim or if he can even manage not getting it on himself. Either way, he couldn’t have done anything, because the scorching liquids just come rushing up before he can do anything else but gag and open his mouth out of sheer, natural reflex.

Kate sighs while she waits for him to finish expelling what feels like all of his innards.

“You done?” she angrily asks after a few minutes.

Stiles nods miserably while he futilely wipes his mouth with what he hopes is the front of his more than likely wrecked shirt.

And this was one of his regular favorites that he could still fit into nicely. Darn.

Kate groans but goes on with her cliché, evil monologue, “Anyways, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me with your vomit spree, I need a pet that needs feeding, and not with something you can buy at the store. Oh, no, my boy only eats fresh, raw meat, don’t you?”

Her words are cooed, like she was talking to a baby, and in response, she gets a vicious snarl from whatever Stiles thinks is in that cage he saw.

“Daddy always did tell me not to tease a wild animal,” Kate jokes, “After all, when you mess with the bull, you get the horns… But still… Daddy also told me that animals like him should be put down. They have no room in our society- nothing but rabid beasts that foam at the mouth when the full moon rises… Daddy told me not to tease, yes, but he also told me to kill every single last one of them, too.”

Oh god. If she hadn’t sounded insane beforehand…

Stiles swallows nervously as he puts a protective palm over his bump – jostling slightly from the movement underneath his skin – as he wonders what a madwoman like Kate would do to him and his unborn baby.

“Daddy told me a lot of things- a lot of things that have kept me alive over the years… He taught me how to shoot… How to pack my first bullet… I even knew how to handle a butterfly knife by the time I was six… Daddy always took care of me while he was here. But now- but now he’s gone…” Kate’s quiet words trail off into silence for a moment, and then, surge up in anger as she hits something against the cage to make the bars ring and the animal inside to snarl again, “He’s gone because of you! You and your stupid family ruined everything! We had it all before you- you mutts decided to make things difficult! Daddy and the others could still be here with me, but no- they’re either dead or rotting away in jail because of you!”

Stiles scrambles to put some distance between himself and enraged Kate, the loud banging and ring alongside the animal’s snarls doing nothing but making his head hurt worse.

“You took my family away from me! You put them away in either jail cells or caskets and it’s all your fault!” Kate screams, and the animal she’s berating is growling and shuffling about in its cage, “And then, after all that’s happened- all the blood and the tears- you just have to go spreading your seed so more weeds like you can pop up!? After Daddy and I tried so hard to burn your damn line at its roots!? How dare you!”

The animal roars, and then, there’s silence from both it and Kate.

All Stiles can hear is his panicked breathing, and the leftover ringing from the abuse the cage suffered. His eyes are still held tightly shut, and he wishes now more than anything, that opening won’t make him feel like he’s dying.

The silence still remains, though, until Stiles thinks that time is no longer applicable to the situation.

Has a minute passed? An hour or more?

He wouldn’t know, but it’s so silent that he’s sure, other than his heartbeat and soft exhales past his lips, the deafening roar of the world turning is all that reaches his eardrums.

That is, until he himself screams when something violently grabs his arm and begins to drag him from where he tried to scuttle away.

“You might’ve been able to take my family away from me, but you can’t get away with starting anew, Derek.”

Wait… Derek’s here? Why in the hell is he so quiet!? Why isn’t he doing anything!?

Stiles would scream these questions, but Kate’s got a good grip of his hair – god, why did he let it grow out? – making words lost to him as it only forces him concentrate on the agony that is Kate pulling on his head wound.

“You can’t get to start fresh after everything that’s happened. You don’t get to have a baby with this whore while my parents and most of my family are locked away for life because of you.”

Vaguely, Stiles remembers some his dad’s earlier rambling: I know that there was an issue a decade or so back where there was a violent clash with an anti-were gang and an all pro-were gang. About thirty people died, and most were from a family that ran the werewolf gang… It was a big deal for a while. It resulted in a street war that lasted a week before the police were finally able to gain control. The Wolfsbane group got back at the others by prosecuting them. They got a few of their main, superior members jailed for life because of that on those murder charges. They’ve been strong rivals ever since…

Oh god. What had Stiles gotten himself and the baby into?

There’s some growling again from the cage, making Stiles wonder if the dog that Kate had is the only one that’s going to speak up for him. After all, Derek was here, wasn’t he? Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why wasn’t he doing anything?

Kate, apparently, has still been keeping up with the monologue this entire time, so Stiles comes back to the conversation midsentence, “- this omega right here is your everything, isn’t he? I bet that you don’t want to admit that, though. You know that I would use that against you. After all, a damaged man can’t take one more hit without breaking completely, can he? Is that why you turned him away? Sent him back home so you’d make it seem like you didn’t care? I bet he doesn’t even know how special he is. Isn’t that right, Stiles?”

The fact that Kate knows his name alone is able to make bile rile up threateningly at the back of his throat, “W-What do you mean?”

“Derek here never did tell you just what he felt, did he? He never did admit to you that you’re the first omega he’s knotted in years, did he? That there was never another omega who he let under his skin?”

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Kate laughs somewhat manically, “Of course you don’t! Derek Hale is an alpha of secrets, but when you finally know them, it just makes it that much sweeter when you hurt him, because then, you know exactly where to hit home!”

Stiles hisses in pain as Kate yanks him to his feet, and he struggles against her while something cold and metallic presses against his burning throat, “K-Kate, please-“

“Derek never did tell you that there was one omega he knotted before you, right? One other person who was able to get past that steeled control of his? Hell, did Derek tell you anything at all? Well, other than how amazing you looked and all of those inappropriate things he likes to say. Let me guess,” Kate takes her other hand and presses it against Stiles’ bump, “he mentioned putting a pup there, didn’t he? He told you he wanted to ‘breed’ you just like this, right?”

Stiles pales, and his throat flexes uncomfortably against what Stiles believes is a blade at his neck, “N-No…”

“Oh honey, I don’t need to be able to hear your heartbeat to know that’s a lie,” Kate sing-songs, “You see, I know how Derek was with you because he was the exact same way with me.”

Stiles stiffens, and he almost stops breathing for a second, “W-What?”

“Oh yes, Derek and I have a history, Stiles. One that actually goes back before our families’… disagreements. You see, Derek and I, we were supposed to get married.”

“Oh god,” Stiles whispers, his gut twisting horribly as tears threaten to fall.

Kate laughs again, “What? Don’t like knowing you got my sloppy seconds? Or is the fact that I could be where you are right now, except in a two-story house with one kid on the way and another at my feet while Derek here was away at work? Is that hard to process when I know that’s what you want for your mutt and yourself?”

“N-No-”

“Stop lying,” Kate grits out, and the knife presses against his vulnerable skin threateningly.

Stiles begins to cry then, out of fear, and out of horror, “I d-don’t want that… I never did…”

“Oh no, you did want it, but Derek didn’t, did he?” Kate sneers as she moves them forward as her ‘pet’ makes growling noises of what seems like approval, “You came up all the way from his hometown, no less, with some hope lying in your chest that Derek here would change all because of the little blip of an existence growing inside of you. You thought Derek would want what you wanted when you knocked on his door, and you thought everything was going to be sunshine and rainbows and perfect once he knew about the baby on its way. But he wasn’t happy, was he? Oh no, he treated it like it was some parasite, didn’t he? He turned you away and told you that he couldn’t deal with having a kid because it just wasn’t in the cards-“

“Stop it…”

“He just turned you away like last week’s one-night stand, all used and unimportant, and I bet you felt like it, too-“

“Stop-“

“You were probably so shocked to find out that Derek still didn’t want you, and I’m sure you were embarrassed as his pack took pity on you because what kind of pathetic, pregnant omega can’t-“

Stiles cries it out this time, with tears just streaming down his face as each and every single one of Kate’s words drill a hole into Stiles, only to rip it open further – deeper – whenever she goes on, “Stop! Please stop!”

The worst part isn’t that Kate’s verbal jabs are sort of right – at least in the way in which Stiles felt pathetic and that a small, irrational part of him did think it was going to be okay after Derek found out about their baby carefully weaving its existence together in Stiles abdomen – it’s in the way that Derek doesn’t stand up for him throughout any of this.

If anything, that fact alone makes Stiles cry harder.

The growling from before begins again, and this time, it sounds closer to Stiles as it mixes in with the occasional hitched sob that wretches it way out of his chest. Kate, however, is blissfully silent again, and the only reminder of her presence is the hand gripping onto Stiles roughly and stiffly holding onto him while he cries. Still, Stiles can’t see her, and he can’t see what he supposes is her dog as it sniffs at his face and growls again.

“After all these years, I’d imagine that the taste of tears and snot would be dismal to him, but apparently he loves it all the same.”

Stiles doesn’t bother replying, not with the way his chest is heaving like it is currently, and his knees give out a little as emotions just flood Stiles.

“I also imagined that you’d be stronger than this. With the way that Derek went on about you when I tortured him… He kept screaming your name, though. Kept telling me about how you’d never break and I shouldn’t even bother trying because of how invincible you were. He was right, but in the other sense. If I had known that it would’ve been this easy- this simple- to break you down,” she scoffs quietly as the sound of a metal door opening reaches Stiles ears, and there’s more growls while the rest of her words are softly hissed in disappointment, “I wouldn’t have tried at all…”

Suddenly, Stiles finds himself getting thrown violently away from Kate as she groans in what seems like unsatisfied disgust, and his palms get scraped as he tries to brace his fall with his hands rather than his bump. The fear of hurting his child overwhelms everything else in Stiles’ mind for that split moment, and the jarring pain that is a sprained wrist has nothing on the absolute terror of having his weight get held up by the delicate life only trying to form inside of him.

“I’m done playing for now,” Kate says as the thing she threw Stiles in shudders as she slams the door, “but I’ll be back once the rancid taste of lost opportunities leaves my tongue. Have fun with Fido until then, Stiles. I’m sure you two will get along just fine.”

With a gasp of pain, Stiles twists uncomfortably, and he manages to move himself to where his bump doesn’t take a single brunt of the force of the fall. His back falls against what feels like the metal bars he had barely made out previously, and he can’t help but lean against them fully as his body settles and his quick dose of adrenaline wears off to his aches and pains. He whines softly as he brings his hand up, and he wishes that this stupid concussion wasn’t making things worse by roiling his stomach’s contents around and essentially making him blind to where he can’t gauge the damage that’s been done.

Or so that he can see whatever it is that’s apparently licking him on his arm right now.

A startled cry escapes the omega as he reflexively jolts back from the wet sensation, only to cry again as he pulls wrong on his wrist and a sharp pain zips up his forearm with the threat of making him cry again.

“O-Oh god,” Stiles shakily grits out, and he holds his injured limb closer to his form as a whine from the supposed dog is up against his ear, “Please don’t eat me… I’d probably taste like vomit and BO. That’s not a good combination, o-okay?”

The dog whines again, and Stiles shudders once more as it apparently goes back to licking him again, but rather, this time at his face.

Stiles sighs shakily, and groans softly as his head hurts even worse, “I hate my life…”

As the dog laps at his tear-stained face, Stiles lets his uninjured hand rest on his bump, and in response, his baby fleetingly kicks back numerous times.

“You must be as nervous as I am,” Stiles murmurs softly at it, and he remembers how Erica first talked to the bump only a day or so ago when everything was fine and he and his baby were safer, “Sorry about that, buddy. Circumstances call for a lil’ endorphins...”

Stiles brings his hand up and wipes the side of his face that the dog hasn’t quite reached yet, and grimaces softly when his grimy palm comes back sticky with semi-dried tears. He sniffles a little, and begins to chuckle.

It isn’t until he’s laughing and forcing Kate’s dog to stall on his ‘tongue cleaning’ that Stiles finally lets loose, “I bet this is fucking g-great for you, Derek… You must have a lot of material later for when you talk about what a joke I am…”

The room still remains quiet, sans the soft panting from the animal beside Stiles and the light noises he’s making as his laugh metamorphosizes into a weird, cry-esque laugh that in no way would seem funny to anyone that witnesses it.

“I mean, this is what you wanted to happen, right? For some sense to get knocked into me now that I’m knocked up. I bet that it’s been great for you, except maybe for the fact you had to get kidnapped right alongside me to witness it… I’m surprised you didn’t interrupt Kate with your laughing…”

The dog in the cage makes another noise, this time sounding more wounded than the first, and Stiles grits his teeth together as Derek, “surprisingly”, remains quiet.

“God, this must be the most humiliating time of my life,” Stiles murmurs, “and this must be the most hilarious for you… She basically said everything you did that night… What are the odds?”

Stiles lets his chin fall to his chest, and his exhale is a shaky one as he rubs his bump with his functional hand.

“They don’t deserve this, you know?” Stiles begins quietly, hoping that Derek is still listening to him, “They can’t help who their dad is. They shouldn’t get punished like this for that. If anything, I should be the one getting beaten to a pulp, because I actually chose you, and I shouldn’t have…”

The dog surprises Stiles by curling up against him, as if it were trying to offer its own apology through physical comforts.

“What am I doing?” Stiles laughs a little under his breath, “Am I really feeling pity for myself right now in front of you? Am I really making this situation that much worse by crying and saying, ‘oh woe is me’?”

A soft yip reaches Stiles’ ears, but not a verbal response from Derek, and so, Stiles huffs an irritated breath as he forces himself to stand.

“Whatever. I don’t need your pity, Derek,” Stiles grits out, and he hopes, for the sake of him not making himself look like even more of an idiot, that he’s at least facing the alpha, “ and I don’t need your help. I’ve been making it this far all on my own, and sure, maybe with the help of your pack, too. But in no way does that mean I’ve got to grovel at your feet to make sure that my kid is safe, okay?”

Stiles swallows, and sticks his arms out in front of him, and he dares to open his eyes a little to try and see where he’s going.

Thankfully, the light isn’t too much this time around, and Stiles can see about a foot or so in front of him without feeling the necessary urge to vomit this time around. It’s still a problem, definitely, but it’s at least more tolerable this time around as Stiles is able to shiftily wobble his way over to the – yep, it’s a cage – door. The dog is beside Stiles the whole time, seemingly attached at Stiles’ hip as he struggles to take a step forward.

“You’re sweet, despite all that Kate said,” Stiles murmurs as he looks over to the dog, and his eyes nearly go wide and blind him at the sight of the animal, “Oh my god, and you’re huge, too.”

The dog – or a smaller bear, going by size – huffs indignantly, but nudges Stiles forward with its snout towards the cage door as if he’s trying to get him with the program.

“Y-You’re not a Seeing Eye dog, are you?” the omega asks quietly as his hand fumbles a little with what feels like a latch against his clammy fingertips, “Because I might need some help trying to get out of here…”

Stiles hopes Derek didn’t hear that, but the man apparently is able to keep his composure, so if he did, he’s thankfully not laughing at him … audibly, at least. But he’s sure it must seem pathetic for him to open his eyes for one minute and then rest them for what feels like five or even more before he vomits … again.

Today is not a good day, it seems…

The animal beside him sniffs at the door and adds its paw into the mix, and together, they somehow must’ve jiggled something loose, because the thing opens and swings forward.

“She probably thought I’d be unable to do anything. That, or- … she probably planned on feeding you to me…”

The dog – which Stiles decides to at least name Bear for his sanity’s sake – growls softly at his side, but pads forward until its claws no longer click against metal, leaving Stiles in the cage by himself.

“W-Wait, you’re not leaving me, are you, Bear?”

The shuffling on the dirt stops abruptly, and Stiles, whose eyes are closed again in a futile effort to spare himself another headache, hears a soft whine reach him.

“Can’t speak dog, Bear, so I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

He jolts a little as he feels teeth nip at his shirt, and he walks forward until he’s apparently right up against Bear’s body. Its fur is soft and a little longer than what Stiles expected at his fingertips, but he still runs a hand through Bear’s coat. He can feel muscle underneath the flesh and sinew, and he swallows a little, wondering how he must’ve fared if Bear hadn’t turned tides and done what Kate had initially expected of him.

Bear whines again, and licks at Stiles’ arm, reminding him that they need to get a move on before Kate comes back and Stiles is really done for good – Bear or not.

“Yeah, s-sorry,” Stiles mumbles and he’s about to walk forward when Bear yanks him backwards against him again, “Ow, what the fuck, Bear!?” he hisses quietly.

Bear rumbles unhappily, and using its mouth, it takes Stiles uninjured wrist and guides it to its back again.

“Bear, now is not the time for a petting session-“

Another grumble from the animal has Stiles reevaluating its wordless request.

“Y-You want me to hold onto you?”

A yip is Bear’s response this time around.

“Okay,” Stiles murmurs, and he embeds his fingers into Bear’s coat, “Lead away, then.”

Bear guides Stiles forward then, and Stiles is walking beside him carefully as he tries not to get sick again with the movement. He knows that he’s been walking for a while, completely unable of seeing where he’s at. Bear is quiet beside him, other than the occasional noise of it sniffing the air and click of its claws. Stiles wonders what’s going on, though, and he feels nervous as Bear leads on.

Isn’t Kate going to pop out in any moment and grab him? Isn’t Bear supposed to be eating him right now? And, oh god, does he have to pee now?

“Bear,” Stiles hisses quietly, making the dog perk and halt, “I- I gotta pee.”

Bear huffs, as though it were telling Stiles he has to hold it.

“It’s not something I have a choice in,” Stiles argues softly, “If the kid says I’ve got to go, then I’ve got to.”

Bear growls under its breath, but lets Stiles relieve himself before they continue on their weird journey to what Stiles hopes is at least freedom.

They’re walking again now, and Stiles is chancing a few looks around as he cautiously opens his eyes. They’re in some sort of hallway – a dank looking place that Stiles hopes won’t give him tetanus or scabies – that smells of piss, and not thanks to him, mixed with something saltier.

“I think we’re at some dock or something…” Stiles whispers to Bear, “Nothing can beat that shitty, ship-polluted ocean smell.”

Bear yips quietly, and it’s then that Stiles realizes something.

“How come you can understand me?”

That makes Bear halt, and it nips Stiles’ hand.

“Hey!” the human hisses softly, “I was just wondering! No need to be an ass about it!”

Bear grumbles something like a displeased growl, but continues on with leading Stiles around.

It still gives Stiles some time to think about things, though, like why Derek hadn’t been saying anything – or how the alpha refused to help Stiles get out of this place. Maybe Kate chained him up or something? It’s not unlikely, knowing her so far, but wouldn’t Derek have begged Stiles to take him along even if they were at odds ends with one another?

Huh, Derek must be more masochistic than Stiles thought initially.

He can’t linger on the thought that much longer though, because he can hear Kate yelling somewhere off in the distance.

“Shit, Bear, we’ve got to go-“

In seconds, Stiles finds himself getting pushed out of what he thinks is a door. His ass skids across the ground, and he groans as he feels his jeans collect what feels like mud along the way. However, before he can react, strong arms lift Stiles up and carry him away.

“No, Bear!” Stiles shouts, and he begins hitting whoever as grabbed him, “Put me down, you asshat!”

“Be. Quiet.”

Stiles stops fighting the captor immediately, “D-Derek? Where’s Bear? He’s a dog, do you see him?”

“No, there’s no dog, it’s only me here, and I told you to be quiet,” the alpha grits out, his mouth sounding like it was full of something, “She can hear you.”

“Oh,” Stiles deflates a bit, “I, uh, sorry?”

“Not the time,” Derek growls, and he begins jogging while gripping Stiles tight in his arms.

Despite the relief at being saved, even if by Derek, Stiles’ stomach lolls around with the movement that Derek’s movement causes. He ends up groaning and, in some amount of defeat, leans his pounding head onto Derek’s shoulder to try and appease the roiling of his poor intestines.

“Are you okay?”

Stiles makes a chocked off noise, because speech still isn’t one of his fortes right now.

“Hey,” Derek is slowing then, and Stiles whines as the alpha sets him down, “are you hurt?”

That makes the omega sigh, “Uh, don’t you remember what Kate said in there?”

“Who’s Kate?”

Stiles pales, and if he had his eyes open right then, they would be wide, “Y-You don’t remember anything?”

“Not after I got out past what I think was a mountain ash barrier back there, no… I mean, I remember that my name is Derek and I had just shifted back from my wolf, but… everything else is foggy.”

“Wait, you’re Bear? And does mean that thing you pushed me out against was a line mountain ash?”

Derek pauses, “I pushed you?”

“Oh my god,” if Stiles could afford the miniscule hit, he’d facepalm, but his poor skull has been through enough today, “Just- let’s keep going before Kate- who trust me, you don’t want to get to know her- finds us.”

“Okay, but if you’re about to vomit or die, just say something.”

Stiles huffs as Derek picks him up again, “Will do, Captain.”

Derek jogs for what feels like hours until they’re far from anywhere that smells like saltwater, but it’s still cold and damp out at the moment, and it leaves Stiles’ skin pricking up with goosebumps as he shivers.

“You’re cold,” Derek murmurs as he slows down a little.

“N-Nah, I’m w-warm as can b-be,” Stiles stutters through chattering teeth, “of c-course I’m c-cold!”

Derek huffs, “You’re mouthy…”

“P-Pregnancy hormones will d-do that to you…”

The alpha stops walking completely, “You’re pregnant?”

Stiles groans, “Yes, a-and what’s with t-the two words about me b-being things, m-man?”

The werewolf ignores Stiles’ question in favor for sticking his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck, making the omega squirm against the alpha as he scents him. Stiles squeaks a little when Derek apparently likes what he finds, as his lips begin to move on Stiles’ throat, and-

“Hey!” Stiles pushes against Derek’s face, “Stop that!”

“S-Sorry,” Derek mutters, apparently caught off guard as he pulls away abruptly, “I don’t know what came over me… I guess your scent just made me a little thoughtless.”

Stiles snorts, “Wouldn’t be the first time…”

“First time?”

Stiles swallows a little, and he clears his throat, “It, uh, it might be yours…”

Stiles glances at Derek, opening his eyes just a little, to see the alpha squinting at him in the dark, “Might?”

“Okay, it’s yours,” Stiles grumbles, “the baby is yours…”

Derek stops again, “I’m a father?”

“Are we seriously doing this now?”

Derek doesn’t say anything else, and Stiles wiggles a little in his arms because his ass is starting to go numb.

“I-“ Derek starts after a moment, and Stiles peeks again to see the alpha is really confused, “I didn’t know… I just thought- well, I kind of thought you were a little fat.”

“Rude,” Stiles grimaces harshly, “but no, this whole little paunch right here is your doing, pal, not a few too many burgers’.”

The werewolf swallows audibly, “I know that now…”

Stiles’ words are quiet when he speaks, “What all do you remember?”

“Not much, like I told you,” Derek murmurs, and he begins walking again, his footfalls accompanied by the crunching of decaying leaves, “All I know is my name and that I’m a werewolf. Other than that and some other obvious things, I’m pretty much a blank slate.”

The omega takes a hand and gently feels about the back of Derek’s head, “I don’t think she hit you like me-“

“What?” Derek growls.

“Uh, Kate, she- she knocked me out to get me wherever the hell we just were,” Stiles whispers as Derek moves over to something and sets him down onto it, probably a large rock, going by the uneven, sturdy surface Stiles feels with his fingertips, “I think she gave me a decent concussion.”

Derek growls again, “Is that why you keep shutting your eyes like you are?”

“Yeah… My sight is kind of blurred anyways, and it hurts to keep ‘em open for too long, you know?”

Stiles hisses a little as Derek’s hand comes up to the back of his skull, and there’s a displeased rumble resonating in the air from what the alpha finds, “You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah, being hit with a blunt object tends to do that.”

“And you got onto me for being repetitive,” Derek huffs softly, but his hands are even more so as the feel about Stiles’ head, “Is there anything else that hurts?”

“M-My wrist,” Stiles holds out the arm to Derek to inspect, and he whines a little when Derek makes the limb move to gauge its overall condition, “but that’s it, I think.”

The alpha takes in a deep breath, “It’s thankfully not broken, but I’m sure it’s sprained, at least…” a pause, “This woman, Kate… Why did she do this to you?”

“Because I happen to be the omega that’s carrying your kid,” Stiles whispers.

“So it all boils down to me?”

Stiles sighs, and he pulls his injured arm into his lap to let it rest, “Kate hates you, Derek. Maybe at another time that wasn’t true, but it sure as hell is now. If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Kate Argent is your mortal enemy.”

“A-Argent… Sounds like I should know the name, but I don’t now,” Derek pauses, and Stiles jumps when he feels a hand cup his face, “and I also don’t know yours…”

“It’s- it’s Stiles…”

Derek takes a moment to reply, and Stiles opens his eyes just enough to where he can see Derek squinting at him in thought, “Why can’t I remember you?”

Stiles shrugs, and he feels a thumb from Derek’s hand brush against his cheek slowly, causing a shiver to go through him. Stiles gasps softly as he finds pain leeching away from him, and he’s able to open his eyes without strain as Derek veins blacken as Stiles’ gaze trails up his arm.

“W-What are you doing?”

“Taking some of the edge off,” Derek grits out, his face squinted in what seems like pain.

Stiles narrows his gaze on him, “Derek, are you- are you taking my pain? And are you naked?”

“Yes, I just happen to be, and no, I’m taking on the brunt of your injuries. It’s a thing only born werewolves can do,” Derek informs him, and his arm falls away with a jerk, leaving Derek panting softly as he looks back up at Stiles, “Since I have a healing factor as well, it’s not a big issue.”

“Oh,” and it’s all Stiles has to say other than, “You don’t have to do that for me.”

The comment makes Derek look at Stiles like he just lit himself on fire or something, “Of course I do.”

Stiles wants to elaborate more on it – ask Derek why in the hell that he cares all of a sudden. Sure, it’s probably because he can’t remember hating Stiles or something else that’s complicated and still too much for Stiles to think about right now, but Derek obviously can’t feel anything other than contempt for him and the baby… right?

“Come on,” Derek whispers, and he’s picking Stiles up again as though he’s a fragile piece of china, “We’ve got to get going before Kate finds us again…”

Stiles hums his agreement, and he leans against Derek as the exhaustion from everything settles on him then when the heat off of Derek’s bare chest seeps through his ripped and dirtied tee, “You know, you’ve got some buddies that are willing to help us.”

“Who?”

“They’re part of your pack, or, as everyone else knows of it, a part of your gang.”

Derek stumbles a bit in surprise, “I run a gang?”

Stiles laughs, “Trust me, bud, I reacted the same way when I found out. Now, how about you walk, and I talk?”

“A-Alright…”

By the time that Stiles manages to get to contact the rest of the pack, his body is drooping over, and he’s sure he’s told Derek everything that he needs to know, except for the whole “your entire family is dead and I’m pretty sure they were all brutally murdered but I wouldn’t know for sure” part – it’s just best to make Derek think he’s a loner instead to save him all that pain and frustration.

All Stiles is aware of is the heavy weight his eyelids have managed to accumulate over what might be the past few hours alone. His voice is scratchy – well-used from where he blabbered on to Derek about Kate and how they met, among other things. The sun is beginning to come up, and it’s illuminating the parking lot of the nearly-abandoned gas station they’re currently at.

“My ass hurts,” Stiles murmurs, wincing a little as he shifts his weight, “and I’m pretty sure that’s the fifth person in five minutes who looks like they want to call the cops on us.”

Derek huffs, but he makes sure that Stiles is draping over his lap to where people might consider him to be wearing at least a pair of shorts, “They aren’t going to. It’s not worth the time.”

“Well, I’m sure that the employee over there will think the same thing. Huh, I think he’s grabbing a broom to sweep us away like street trash now.”

“He did tell us to leave.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “That’s because you were standing in his parking lot without a single inch of cloth on you. There’s a thing called public decency, and yes, Derek, you can get arrested for not having it.”

“It’s not my fault we were kidnapped and I ended up escaping with only my skin on my back,” the alpha says as he attempts to defend himself.

That makes Stiles wince, “Maybe that’s a good thing, then…”

Still, right before the employee batters them away with the dirty broom, a familiar SUV comes up and jerks to a stop in front of Stiles and Derek. All three pack members jump out of it, and the bomb rush Derek and Stiles from where they rest on the plastic bench.

“Stiles! Derek!” Erica rushes over, her heels clicking harshly on the tarmac as she comes over with a blanket, “Are you all alright?”

“We’re about as good as we can be, I guess,” Stiles murmurs, and Stiles groans as Derek takes the blanket only to drape it over him, “Derek, you’re indecent. Just use this so the seven-eleven employee doesn’t thwack you upside the head.”

“Stiles, you’re pregnant. Just wear it so you and the pup are comfortable, and I don’t know, alive.”

Stiles pouts as Erica fusses over him while Boyd and Jackson begin to usher them all to the car, “Protective jackass…”

They all clamber inside of the SUV, with Boyd and Jackson taking the front seats while Erica, Stiles, and Derek get the back ones. Stiles is forced into the middle between both Derek and Erica, and he growls under his breath as they both worry over him like bothered mother hens.

“Derek,” Jackson says from the passenger seat, pivoting to show the alpha a touchscreen phone, “We want to know what you want to do.”

“Uh,” Stiles clears his throat a little as Derek just chooses door number three – a look of utter constipated confusion, “Derek can’t remember anything…”

Jackson frowns as Boyd hurries to get them away from the gas station as the employee chases after the car while wielding his cleaning instrument, “What do you mean?”

“He means that I can’t remember anything. There’s nothing else to it.”

Jackson gapes, “So you’re telling me you can’t-“

“Yes,” Derek growls out.

“Well, at least your dickishness is still intact,” Jackson mutters, turning towards the dashboard as he fiddles with the phone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Stiles smirks and leans over to whisper to the alpha, “Well, you see, one thing I forgot to tell you on the way back… You’re kind of an asshole.”

“Not kind of, you are one,” Boyd adds.

Door number three’s prize makes a return, “I what?”

Erica snorts from where she’s wiping what seems like mud or something Stiles’ skin off with baby wipes, “You have a serious attitude problem, Derek. What kind of alpha abandons their pregnant mate?”

This time, both Derek and Stiles choose door number two, “What!?”

“Oh dear,” Erica giggles as Stiles glares at her and Derek remains utterly silent, “It seems like both Derek and Stiles are in the dark now.”

“Well, I’m not surprised Stiles doesn’t know,” Jackson interjects, and Stiles punches his seat for it, “Sorry, dude, it’s true.”

The omega tries not to break any of his teeth as they grind together, “Can anyone care to explain what Erica just told us?”

Boyd sighs as he heads off onto what seems like the interstate, “Stiles, remember how you were able to break a lot of Derek’s bad habits when it came to one-night stands?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Stiles murmurs, “But I don’t understand… What does Derek doing things differently with me have to do with this?”

Jackson facepalms, “Stiles, Derek couldn’t control himself around you because you guys are like, a perfect match.”

“I know that part,” Stiles hisses, “I just don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”

“We’re trying to tell you that you’re Derek’s mate.”

As Stiles begins to hyperventilate, he realizes that he just chose door number one.

“Stiles, breathe,” Derek is suddenly right there, turning Stiles’ face until they’re looking at one another, “Breathe with me-“

“No, I- I can’t-“ Stiles begins to panic – begins to feel too small and too big for his skin all at once, “He didn’t even w-want me at first and he j-just-“

Strong hands encase Stiles, forcing him to come back down to Earth from where he was floating off, only to find Derek holding him against his chest. His nose is buried in the crook of Derek’s neck as his breathing comes back to him with every inhale.

“I can’t be mated to you…” Stiles whimpers, shaking his head, “I can’t be mated to an alpha that doesn’t even want me-“

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice is soft, his hands almost uncertain in their placement, “Breathe.”

Stiles begins to cry, and god – he hates pregnancy hormones for this alone. No one in the car says anything, but the hand rubbing up and down Stiles’ back is more important than all the words in the world.

Stiles passes out soon after his little breakdown. When he wakes about an hour later in the car still, though, no one mentions it to him. In fact, they all act as though it hadn’t happened at all. Derek’s mannerisms have changed a little though. He stands a little farther – keeps his distance – from Stiles. Instead of it being from what Stiles would originally expect as disgust or even hurt, Derek seems to be leaving in a few inches out of respect – out of concern.

It drives Stiles a little mad, with the way he flinches away when they accidentally touch each other in their seats, and he’s only furious when Derek opts to sit in the passenger after a quick pit stop to let Stiles pee while Derek dresses in the stall next to him after losing the blanket, and for Jackson to fill up the tank.

“You’re an ass,” Stiles tells them as they’re out of the car again, but this time, they’re at a rest stop and they’re standing together at a vending machine in what feels like the middle of nowhere.

Erica thinks that she planned on this – for Stiles and Derek to “talk it out” before something else emotionally explosive goes down in the confined, public space of the car. He wants to be mad at her, he really does, but his stomach has been grumbling and snacks are needed for the whole group. He just wished that Derek didn’t have to be here with him since he can’t really bend over that well anymore.

Still, Derek hums an okay to Stiles’ name calling, but doesn’t protest. Instead, he hands Stiles a freshly opened bag of sour cream and onion chips while he tries to complete their assigned snack run by putting more change into the machine.

“Still an ass,” Stiles pouts, his fingers already working their way in to get the biggest chip out, “and I hate you.”

The alpha only nods once to assure Stiles that he heard and knows how the omega feels, and he then hands Stiles a cold bottle of apple juice with its top loosened a few seconds later.

“I wish you didn’t get me pregnant,” he says this time.

Derek only nods again as Stiles takes an angry swig of his juice before he caps it again.

“Are you going to say anything, or are you going to keep handing me food to try and shut me up?”

The alpha doesn’t acknowledge Stiles then, but rather, keeps getting items from the vending machine while he inserts more loose change.

Stiles growls, and he throws the – sadly – empty bag of chips away, “You’re insufferable.”

This time, he gets a thumbs up from Derek. A fucking thumbs up.

In seconds, Stiles is on Derek, thwacking him with his bottle of apple juice as hard as he can in complete fury, “Say something, you ass!”

Derek growls at Stiles, and his eyes even bleed through to their lurid shade, but he doesn’t so much more than bear his teeth and bring his arm up to Stiles’ “fruit juice” assaults.

“God dammit, Derek!” Stiles ends up yelling, and thankfully they’re in the middle of nowhere where it’s fucking cold and rainy, because it means no one is there to see the exchange, “Fucking react or something!”

Derek blinks, and his eyes return to normal, but his glare is still venomous towards the omega, “What the hell!?”

“Oh, finally! The prodigal alpha speaks!” Stiles laughs, but without the humor in it, “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you talk, man! It must’ve been what, eight hours ago since you even acknowledged me!?”

The alpha’s upper lip twitches slightly, “Stiles, now is-“

“What, it’s ‘not the time’!? Fucking hell, Derek! When is it going to be a good time!? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re a little bit on the fucked side-“

“Then what are you expecting me to do!?” Derek growls.

Stiles, for a second, scoffs in disbelief, “I expect you to fucking act like I exist, at least.”

That makes Derek roll his eyes, “Erica warned me that you’d be hormonal-“

“Am I? Am I really, Derek? You may not remember abandoning me, but I do. I remember you telling me that I wasn’t good enough- that our kid wasn’t good enough- and that I should just go home and cry because I wasn’t welcome to your bed sheets anymore,” Stiles chuckles lowly, and he drops his gaze away from where Derek is staring at him in shock, as he worries on his bottom lip for a millisecond, “Just- one second you’re actually acting like I’m there and the next you’re not…”

“Well maybe that’s because one second I have you, and the next I don’t…”

Stiles’ head snaps up, and he sees that Derek is now the one cutting eye contact, because he’s looking out at the expanse of trees surrounding rather than at Stiles, “W-What?”

“Look, I may not remember initially turning you away,” Derek murmurs, his voice barely audible as Stiles watches him bury his fists into his leather jacket’s pockets, “but I remember just suddenly coming back to myself with nothing but my name and ‘run’ ringing in my head, only to stop when I caught your scent, because something told me I couldn’t leave you there. I remember carrying you for five hours straight because a part of me knew I just had to get you away from Kate, even though I didn’t know your name. I remember you telling me that, suddenly, I’m a father, and that, in a way, I got to have you once before. But I can’t remember that. I can’t remember what I did to you and I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that all I know is that you’re carrying my pup and that you’re my mate… And-“ Derek’s throat constricts for a moment, and he kicks an empty soda can by his foot into the mowed grass to the side roughly, “and I’m sorry you don’t want me like I do you…”

Stiles blinks, because he has to process this. There just is no possible way for all of that to just click and sink in immediately – especially so whenever Stiles never imagined Derek ever telling him sorry, or that he even wanted him. After all, it’s one reason that they’re in this mess, right?

“Stiles, please say something…”

The omega inhales deeply, his heart fluttering in his chest, “I- I don’t know what to say…”

“It doesn’t matter either way, I guess,” Derek murmurs bitterly, “You already made it pretty clear earlier about how you feel…”

“Well I’m sorry if I’m not ready to be mated, Derek. Even then, you’re not exactly the best of people. I know that you can’t remember right now, but you were an ass,” Stiles’ voice breaks, and Derek barely turns his head enough to glance at Stiles out of instinct at the noise, “You said and did a lot of horrible things that didn’t necessarily make me like you. Sure, we had one good night, but after that, it was all shit, because it was never meant to last any longer than that, but it did,” Stiles’ hand falls to his bump while he begins to cry, and Derek’s gaze follows the movement as his jaw clenches, “I came to you and youturned me away. You told me that you weren’t into ‘playing house’ and that I just needed to go back to wherever I came from, like I was some rat that managed to slip in between the floorboards to call your place home… You didn’t even ask me what I was going to do, or how I was going to manage being on my own. As long as I wasn’t bothering you, you didn’t care. You didn’t care that I’m just a college student that’s struggling to take care of their medically retired dad. You didn’t care that I had no one to help me. You didn’t even care that Kate would end up coming after me. You just kind of sarcastically wished me luck and threw me out back onto the ‘welcome’ mat. You fucked me over Derek, in far more ways than one…”

Stiles wipes at his eyes with his other hand just as arms envelope him, and he wants to push Derek away – he truly does, and Derek deserves it tenfold – but now is not the time and place. If Derek had his memory back, then sure, some more roasting would be appropriate, but as it sits, Derek is completely unaware as to the man and the alpha he was before Kate messed with him. Even though Stiles can kick and scream all he wants, it isn’t going to change the fact that this Derek – the one that’s gripping him tightly and murmuring a string of sincere apologies for things he technically hasn’t done – isn’t who deserves that.

“I w-want to kick your ass,” Stiles hiccups into Derek’s collar, shivering a little as the alpha’s hand rubs soothing circles in his aching back, “but I think that w-would be counterproductive to everybody right now…”

“You can if you want, but don’t strain yourself.”

Stiles huffs a soft laugh, “I’ll save it for later when I’m no longer b-burdened with pregnancy restrictions, so that way, it’ll be better, Swiffer.”

Derek pulls back and narrows his gaze at Stiles, “Why are you calling me ‘swiffer’?”

“Because I’m about to mop the fucking floor with you.”

Derek chuckles, rolls his eyes, and grabs Stiles apple juice from where it had fallen onto the ground before they both go back to collecting various snacks again.

By the time they get away from New York and into a state that’s hours away, Stiles has grown tired of napping in the backseat. He ends up pulling the “pup comes first” card, and mentions that he feels like he’s pinching on something important when he lies against the window. Of course, that makes Jackson pull over immediately and rent them a motel room – and even for a shit mattress, it sure as hell beats the makeshift bed that was the SUV’s backseat.

Stiles ends up sprawling over the bed and moaning in pure bliss at the relief he feels in his tense muscles, and it leaves Derek coughing and sputtering awkwardly as he tries to plan with Jackson on the other bed.

“We can go to Kansas or something,” he mumbles as he looks about the road atlas, circling things as he goes, “Kate won’t expect us there.”

Derek coughs again as Stiles stretches with a whine, “W-Well, uh, what about … um, Iowa?”

“No, Kate’s got a group there. You wouldn’t think it, but trust me, they’re there. We nearly ran into them when we were driving back to New York with Stiles in tow.”

Stiles turns until he’s facing away from the rest of the pack, and he wiggles a little bit to try and reach the blanket’s edge without sitting up, and oh – another cough, “A-Arkansas, then? …”

Erica groans, “Jeez, Derek. You suck at this.”

“Well I don’t remember how I did things or where Kate’s little groupies are, okay? I’m only a few days into this and I still don’t remember anything…”

Stiles sits up then, and he listens to Boyd now, “We’re going to have to think of something. Kate isn’t going to stop until she finds a trace of us. We’re going to have to be careful so she doesn’t find anything.”

“How about we don’t?”

All heads pivot to Stiles where he’s sitting on the bed, one hand placed over his bump.

“Uh,” Jackson blinks, “Stiles, I don’t think you understand… Having Kate know where we are or have gone is the exact opposite of what we want.”

“Not when you’re leading her in the wrong direction, it’s not.”

The pack collectively frowns, and with a sigh and elbow grease, Stiles manages to stand and waddle over to the atlas Jackson laid out on the other mattress.

“Kate’s looking for breadcrumbs, right? Little things that show we’ve been here or have done that? Instead of sweeping them away and making sure none of left, how about we sweep them under the rug instead?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” Jackson mutters, “but go on.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at the beta, “False breadcrumbs is what I’m saying. If Kate’s got a hint at a lead, you know she’s going to pursue it, so how about we have a little fun a give her a fake chase down the rabbit hole?”

Derek grins, “That’s brilliant.”

Erica giggles to the side while Jackson groans under his breath, and Boyd just stands there, impassive as always, “I do try, thank you.”

“So we make Kate run off with guns blazing in the wrong direction… How do we do that?”

“You said you’ve got people running around everywhere, don’t you?”

Jackson frowns, “Uh, yeah?”

Stiles smirks and hands him the bag of change that he and Derek had used earlier on the snack run, “You may need to make a few calls then after this.”

The game plan is set, and Stiles is ready to begin the match off with Kate. They’ve got people planting trails for Kate to follow all the way up into Nova Scotia, where, unbeknownst to Kate, it’s extremely illegal to have prejudice or violent hate towards werewolves. It means that when Kate finally gets there, with her mouth frothing, Stiles bets, she’s going to end up losing it when she finds out that she’s found herself in the middle of a “were-pride parade”. Stiles thinks it ingenious and gloriously humoristic, while Derek eyes him like he hung the fucking moon. Sure, the pack is happy, and Boyd gives Stiles a stony, celebratory pat on the back that lasts about as long as you’d think it would, but Derek is practically gushing with pride. It’s a little annoying, with the way he just sighs happily when Stiles just happens to do something normal – like breathe - because apparently everything he does now is completely awe astounding if not anything else.

He was getting honestly irritated with it, but Erica pulled him out to get some more towels with her to talk. It was an okay idea, until Derek swarmed Stiles before he went to the door, rubbing himself over Stiles before handing him what seemed like a combined monster of his jacket and several over shirts he got from the bag the pack had for him.

“He’s just overwhelmed by you, you know?”

“Trust me, his little sighs and motions of concern are enough to inform me that he’s smitten. Too bad he has to get a head injury or something to be semi-decent, if not still intolerable.”

Erica sighs, and she rubs her arms to keep some of the frigid chill out of her upper limbs, “He wasn’t always like this, Stiles.”

“Something tells me you’re not talking about the whole memory loss and kinder act…”

The beta shakes her head, “No… Derek used to be laid back and very open with us. He was happier- was calmer- back then… Kate messed a lot of things up for him- messed him up- and we have never been able to get him back to that since. Well, until now, I guess…”

Stiles shoots a glance at her right as they reach the linen room, “What do you mean?”

“He was like this before Kate- before the whole war thing with the Silverbloods. Believe it or not, he was like he is now. Maybe not as obsessive when it comes to his care, but still parental as hell. He once sent Boyd and I out on a supply run when it was raining and made sure we took both umbrellas and ponchos.”

“Sounds great,” Stiles comments as he helps grab a few towels from the clean rack.

“The glory days usually do,” Erica murmurs as she takes a stack of fresh towels herself, “But it’s not supposed to be that way anymore… I think, that since he was so open with things, he felt like he had to shut himself away after what Kate did- keep things short and simple so if he chanced something, she couldn’t get to him while he was vulnerable.”

Stiles snorts, “A good lot that did him.”

The beta beside him hums, “I guess, that to a point, it doesn’t matter if Derek carelessly loves and loves being careless, and I think, once he gets his memories back- if he gets his memories back- he’ll see that, but… He just didn’t want to get hurt again, Stiles. He didn’t want to lose anyone else.”

Stiles huffs bitterly, “So that’s just as good of a reason to turn them out against the fray?”

“Trust me, we all still hold a grudge for him abandoning you like that, and it was wrong of him to turn you away when you were in danger and sure as hell didn’t know what to do, but don’t you understand, Stiles? Don’t you see a damaged man that’s one more thing away from finally getting broken?”

Kate’s own words ring in Stiles’ head, and he looks towards the rain-slickened tarmac as they meander their way back to the room, “I suppose…”

“He couldn’t lose you, Stiles, so I guess the next best thing was to never have you, either.”

“Isn’t it a little counterproductive, though, considering?”

Erica smiles solemnly, “Don’t tell him that. He’d probably explode.”

Stiles hums his agreement as they finally reach their room.

By the time they settle down to get their first official round of sleep, since this time it’s at least in a bed and not in the seat of a car, Stiles is at the end of his rope. After taking a shower and drying off, he had gotten dressed with the few articles of clothing he still had left in his bag, and he grimaced as he noticed that his shirts were beginning to fail at covering his belly. Sure, he’s got a kind in there, but it’s certainly no boost to his confidence when his jeans are now starting to pinch him when he moves a certain way.

He grumbles about getting some sweats or something to Jackson, who doesn’t object, considering that it must look comical for Stiles to come out with his shirt riding up a few centimeters because his baby’s a dick and can’t give him a break already. Although, the worst part is when Derek’s doting worsens as he notices that Stiles is fussing about the hem of his favorite Spider-Man shirt before going to bed.

Stiles wishes that the sleeping arrangement could’ve been different – but with Erica and Boyd apparently being a packaged deal and Jackson opting for the futon near the door, there was just no other options, and Stiles was forced to share a bed with Derek. If the one thing that could describe Derek at the moment, it’s touchy – because he’s like an octopus against Stiles, gripping onto him and feeling any inch of Stiles that he can reach, even though he’s passed out.

It leaves Stiles wide awake and staring towards the wall with Derek bracketed up against him, and it feels like he’s just about to explode all over again on the alpha. Blame hormones – blame an unsettled grudge or even a damaged pride – but Stiles just wants to get up and sleep in the car as Derek snuffles his neck, because this isn’t supposed to be happening.

He’s supposed to be angry at Derek – screaming and kicking like the little shit that he is at heart – because Derek deserves an ass kicking. He’s supposed to be raising hell and dragging Derek over the hot coals for the shit that he pulled and said to him. He’s supposed to be telling Derek to fuck off and to stick to his guns with trigger-happy fingers with bitter smiles and words because he has the fucking right to tell Derek to shove it. He’s supposed to be stronger than this.

He isn’t supposed to be wanting this like the little voice in his head is telling him.

Stiles’ face scrunches up as his throat becomes tight, because he feels pathetic then – pathetic for wanting a man that, when he gains his memory back – will just toss him back onto the curb like last week’s forgotten trash. He shouldn’t be craving this with Derek when he knows it’s only temporary, and even then, a pale contrast to how Derek is supposed be.

In a burst of desperation, Stiles wiggles out from under Derek’s arm, and he rushes to get everything of his together. He needs room to think – room to breathe – and he can’t with how Derek’s warm exhales felt on his neck, or with how his light snoring fills the room like a beautiful siren’s call to something that, in the end, will be nothing but tragic.

He barely manages to get his bag over his shoulder and his hoodie down over his bump before he gets through the door. As he’s pulling his hood up while exiting, he hears Derek’s light snorts abate into silence. Stiles quickly begins to jog as best as he can away from the building, but he doesn’t make it far before familiar hands grab him and pin him to some sedan that he was trying to past.

Stiles’ breath leaves him in an instant, and he’s shaking and crying as Derek shakes him a little, “What are you doing!”

“I can’t do this, Derek,” Stiles whispers, and he hates how stupid he must seem with running off one second and crying during the other, “I- I can’t do this anymore.”

The alpha furrows his brow, “You can’t do what?”

“I can’t do this- just this- this existing in the same space! You’re lucky you can’t remember shit, okay!? Because I’m stuck here knowing every single detail and it fucking sucks-”

Derek angrily scoffs, “So what? One second you don’t care about me in that way, but the next you don’t-“

“God, you may have lost your memory, but you’re still an idiot,” Stiles hisses, and he feels Derek let up enough where he can wipe away his tears a little, “I slept with you. I let you take something that I can never get back. Sure, virginity is basically just a s-sexist term to make alphas feel better about themselves, but it has to mean something, doesn’t it? Giving yourself to someone for the first time?”

Derek opens his mouth, but favors silence, and closes it shortly afterwards.

“I went out that night thinking I was just going to have a good time, okay? I was supposed to dance, maybe get a little drunk, and then I was going to go back to my boring, stressful life, and that would be that. But I didn’t. I slept with you despite the warnings from Scott and maybe the little one in my gut, because something felt right. Something made me say yes and I fucking went with you and I don’t know why.”

The alpha frowns, but doesn’t interrupt.

Stiles sighs, and he plays with the sleeve of his hoodie as he sniffs up some snot in his nose before it gets out and only worsens his already meager image, “But I guess now I do, with what Erica said… I mean, I never gave it much thought, but then again I never had a chance to… You didn’t want me and so there was no reason to think about anything more. There wasn’t a reason to raise my hopes because they’d already been crushed by you telling me to leave the night that I came to you to about the pup… But now- now you’re kinda nice and protective, and more importantly you’re here, so it’s making my instincts go all haywire and I don’t know what I want anymore…”

“Stiles…”

“Go ahead, call me an idiot or a needy omega, both are probably true… But god dammit, I know that I should hate you and that I should just tell you to fuck off if anything else, but we both know that’s impossible.”

Derek scowls as Stiles comes a step closer.

“I’m not forgiving you, but I’m willing to, if you promise me something…”

“Anything.”

Stiles bites his bottom lip for a second, but he doesn’t look up at the alpha, “If- if you get your memories back, and you recall everything that went on between us, both good and bad… You can’t abandon us willingly again.”

The omega waits, and he feels Derek press up against him and put a hand to the bump, “I won’t.”

“But do you understand that I’m not going to make it easy on you?” Stiles murmurs, and he looks up into Derek’s eyes – at the splattered mixture of saturated colors that form his natural iris, “I’m not going to cut corners and I’m not going to treat you like a king no matter what you do. The baby will always come first, and it’ll never be you as my first priority.”

Derek nods, “I know…”

“Good,” the omega whispers, and he feels Derek’s hand move from his bump to grip onto his hipbone, “Now there’s something else you have to promise me as well.”

“Such as?”

“You’re going to be there for the kid, even when I can’t be. If Kate-“ Stiles swallows roughly, “if Kate does anything-“

Derek growls and pulls Stiles flush against him, “I won’t let her do a thing to either of you, Stiles…”

“Derek, you need to promise me this, more than anything else… You need to be there if I’m not.”

The alpha rumbles his displeasure at the thought, but he nods and pulls Stiles into his arms, “I promise…”

“Then it’s settled,” Stiles whispers and he buries his face into Derek’s chest, “No more running for either of us.”

It isn’t until that they’re turned around to go back into the motel room that they notice the pack is by the doorway, all with various expressions of either disgust or elation on their faces.

They decide to go to Beacon Hills the next morning, mostly because Stiles needs to see his dad, and they’re sure that maybe going back home will do Derek some good on regaining his memories back. It’s something Stiles worries about – sure – but he has stock in Derek’s promise now, at least, he hopes he does…

But either way they’re heading back to California while a false trail is heading into Canada to keep Kate on her toes and in the wrong direction. It’s a little bit of a comfort to Stiles as he leans against Derek’s shoulder – as well as the whole physical contact thing they’ve got going on between them currently. Stiles blames it on the fact that his pregnancy makes him crave contact with the alpha, or maybe it’s their “mate” bond they’ve got going on, as Erica informed them with a giddy smile earlier.

Derek doesn’t seem to care either way.

The baby kicks again when they cross the border into California.

Stiles thinks it’s a “welcome home” gesture, but it doesn’t stop Derek from touching Stiles bump obsessively throughout the day. Normally it would drive Stiles mad, but since he’s decided to try and accept the bond, among other things, he tries to remind himself that one in this party of two isn’t informed in the ways of unborn baby communication, so he lets it slide.

It takes them a little longer to get to BH, mostly because Stiles had to pee after some choice kicks to his bladder again, and that Derek felt compelled to try and incent the baby into kicking against his palm with gifts to Stiles, as though it would work. He spent thirty minutes in a gas station trying to hunt down some beef jerky that Stiles requested, and while it left Stiles preening, Jackson was none too happy when his alpha returned.

Still, they managed to make it back, and Stiles tries to waddle as fast as he can when he manages to make it to his house. His dad, with the aid of his cane, manages to reach him at his own pace, and they embrace each other as best as they can while the grandkid carpools against Stiles’ liver. His dad cries a little – telling Stiles that because he left early, Kate’s goons got confused and ended up leaving without any traces of his existence anywhere, leaving him breathing room since they assumed he lived alone.

“They wouldn’t expect me to come back here,” Stiles tells Derek when he’s confused about it, “and since you can’t remember anything, which I’m sure that’s what Kate planned on, it means that you’d have no reason to be back either. And I mean, even then there’s the matter of your fam-”

“Stiles!” Erica cuts in.

Derek is shooting both of them curious glances, and Stiles sighs, “Right… sorry.”

“Is there something you’re all not telling me?”

Stiles swallows audibly as the pack either rub at their necks awkwardly or avoid Derek’s questioning gaze, but it’s Stiles’ dad that speaks up.

“You look familiar… Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

Oh god – this is even worse.

“Dad, now isn’t-“

“I wouldn’t know, I lost my memory while trying to save Stiles.”

His dad whips around to face him, “Stiles, what is he talking about?”

“Uh, to cut it short, I might have gotten kidnapped by Kate Argent,” his dad pales, “but Derek here-“

“Derek!”

Stiles jumps in front of the alpha, “Dad, he can’t remember anything! Don’t shoot him!”

“I wasn’t going to shoot him,” his dad grits out, “I was just going to knock some sense into him for abandoning my pregnant son until it was beneficial for him to swoop back in like a knight in shining armor. Hell, how can’t we know for sure that he can’t remember anything?”

To try and save Derek – yet again – from his father’s wrath, Stiles grows desperate, “Derek, w-what do you drive?”

“A car?”

The pack grimaces while Stiles’ dad slows only a fraction in his impending assault, because he’s still glaring venomously at Derek as his fist tightens at his side. Even with all of his setbacks, Stiles is sure that his father still has a nasty swing if he thinks you deserve the effort.

“Hold on!” Stiles rushes to the back of the SUV and takes his camera out of his bag, and he runs over to Derek to show him the item, “Derek, the night we met, you asked me why I had this. What did I tell you?”

“Uh,” Derek stares at the camera, “do you take photos for like… a personal scrapbook or something? Is that why you told me you know how to develop photos?”

Stiles grimaces as he notices his father’s rage is the same, “Y-You took a couple photos that night, but of what?”

“I don’t know,” Derek grimaces, and he looks constipated, “I can’t remember any of this stuff.”

Stiles frowns, and he turns on his camera, only to blush as he comes face to face with the less than appropriate images that Derek had taken. He quickly shuffles over to the first one Derek took – the one where he’s sitting on the bike with a red helmet in his hands, “You took this.”

Stiles turns it over to Derek and even towards his father who’s eyes widen a little.

“You never like anyone taking your photo, Stiles,” his dad murmurs, and he eyes the picture closely as he adds, “I can see that you ‘drive’ a bike, not a car.”

Derek frowns and says, “I wouldn’t know,” as Stiles quickly turns off the camera, making Derek’s frown grow until it falls way to something more confused, “Stiles, can we talk privately for a moment?”

Stiles swallows and joins Derek to where they walk over to the other side of the SUV in the driveway, and as soon as they’re out of sight, Derek lets his curiosity get the better of him.

“Why haven’t you been telling me everything?”

“Derek, I-“ Stiles licks his bottom lip as he feels anxious, “there’s just some things that you’d rather not know…”

Derek’s gaze hardens in seconds, “Stiles, I thought this whole thing was going to be a two-way street.”

“Trust me, you’re better off-“

“No,” Derek growls, and for the first time since they got free of Kate, Stiles feels like Derek must hate him, “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t know. You don’t get to be biased and keep things from me when I have the right to be aware about it since it’s my past.”

Stiles sighs, and his shoulders fall in defeat, “You’re not going to let this go until you know, are you?”

“Absolutely not, now.”

The omega clears his throat, “O-Okay… but, I can’t be the one to tell you, because I’m a little less in the dark than you are about it, but I’m not completely informed either. I just- I know enough…”

“Then the pack can tell me-“

“We can show you,” Boyd says as he and the other two round the hood of the SUV, “but you won’t like it, Derek.”

The alpha sets his jaw, but sighs, “I need to know, okay? I need to know who I was…”

Erica exhales softly, coming closer to both the alpha and the omega in front of her, “You may not like who that is, or what happened to him.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Derek mutters, “That person is me, and I need to know. Now please, stop asking and just fucking tell me.”

“Derek,” Stiles comes up to his side, “I- I want to know too, if that’s alright…”

The alpha ponders it for a moment, but nods, “You have a right to know too,” he looks at the trio in front of him, “Now tell us.”

The pack nods, and Stiles vaguely wonders what Derek just signed himself up for as they tell both of them to get into the car and buckle up.

When they come upon the burned up shell of the house Stiles has hid in not that long ago, anxiety begins to creep up on Stiles. He holds Derek’s hand, and the alpha grips back tightly – almost as terrified of the upcoming truth as Stiles is, but for obvious, different reasons. The pack is quite as they get out of the car, and it isn’t until Derek and Stiles are inside and looking around that they tell the pair about a past currently only known to them.

As Derek and Stiles smell the ash – see the scorched marks in both the house and on its contents – they are told of who used to live here, a pack, much like Derek’s current one, but larger – more diverse. A pack that was huge and well-known, a pack that was happy and full of life – and as the pair see nail marks in the flooring – ripped sections of the wallpaper – they hear of how it was also full of tragedy.

A fire, they murmur – one that was started on purpose – scorned and killed dozens.

By this time, Derek is pale and is shaking, and Stiles is right beside him, holding onto his hand as it’s explained the fire was no accident. It was set on purpose – with intent – and was meant to kill everyone here because they were both werewolf and a Hale. They tell Stiles and Derek that they were all asleep and unaware that they were getting trapped inside their own home to be burned alive in it.

Now, Derek is trembling, both with rage and horror, as Erica informs them that the Argents set the fire, and that Kate was the main conspirator behind it. When Derek pivots to stare at her with red-rimmed eyes filled with confusion, and he demands for a reason why Kate would do that to him.

And then Erica tells him that Kate was angry because she never wanted the relationship with Derek, and that she ended up taking control soon on into everything. She quickly tore apart the pack from the inside – creating grudges, making enemies among friends – and that she ended up using Derek’s weakness of family against him. She used a pregnancy hormone spray to fool Derek – to make him think they were going to have a kid together – before she ripped away the band-aid and set the fire to make Derek bleed like she’d always wanted. She took everything from Derek that night – everyone he cared about, everyone he thought he was going to get to love forever – gone, within an instant.

Derek turns to Stiles then, with watery eyes, and the pack filters out of the house to let their alpha have his moment.

He falls against Stiles with a heaving sob, and the omega feels his throat tighten at the sight of someone he believed were somehow invincible become vulnerable right there beneath him.

“S-Stiles,” Derek cries, making Stiles join him there on the floor as he begins to cry in sympathy, “Oh, Stiles… I- I remember now… everything- I- I can’t-”

“Shush, it’s okay,” Stiles murmurs, letting his hand cup the side of Derek’s face as he cries, “She won’t get to take this away from you again.”

Derek shakes his head, “I was so horrible to you, and I just- I don’t want to lose someone like that again…”

“You won’t,” Stiles promises, and he pulls Derek close to where his head is underneath Stiles’ chin, “I’ll make sure that you won’t.”

“I’m so sorry for hurting you,” Derek gasps out, his hands clutching onto Stiles tightly, “I’m so sorry for hurting you like she would-“

Stiles pulls Derek back and stares at him in the eyes, “Don’t compare yourself to her. Ever. Do you hear me, Derek? You are nothing like Kate Argent, okay? Now an ass? Sure, but not a monster…”

Derek takes in a shaky breath, “I just didn’t want to get attached… Didn’t want to believe it was real… She stole that- stole everything- away from me last time that I did.”

“I’m not going to let that happen, Derek,” Stiles vows, and he takes Derek’s hand on his bump, “We won’t leave you, okay? We’ll always be here…”

Derek’s sobs abate a little, until silent tears roll down his cheeks as he buries his face into Stiles’ neck and murmurs nothing but a string of sorry’s like he had before. If anything, it makes Stiles pity Derek a little as they sit in the remains of what was once his family home, but is now their second grave.

A few moments later, though, Derek speaks, “Stiles, promise me something…”

“Anything,” he murmurs.

Derek pulls back a little, and he cups the omega’s face, “Promise me that we won’t end things like that… Just- even if things get bad between us… We won’t hurt each other through other people. Especially the baby.”

“Derek, I’d-“

“I know you wouldn’t hurt the kid, but…” Derek swallows, “Kate used the kid against me a lot, made me do things I’m not proud of because she threatened to keep it away from me when it was born… I don’t want us to torture each other like that, especially now that this baby is real and not some illusion in a perfume bottle... We leave the kid out of it if that happens.”

Stiles nods, “I promise.”

Derek thanks him, and goes back to nuzzling Stiles’ neck. He occasionally mouths at the flesh, but it’s only to tell Stiles how sorry he still is for everything – from being a dick to turning him away – and Stiles just lets the alpha vent and apologize over and over until the pack fetch them thirty minutes later.

It’s a start of a beginning, though – one that will require months and maybe years of work and elbow grease to keep Kate away and to keep themselves from each other’s throats – but as Stiles places a hand on his bump and his baby kicks back, he believes that it was something that was already in the cards for all of them anyways.

He’s ready for it.

Chapter Text

They’ve been in Beacon Hills for about a month now.

No one has heard anything about Kate and her endeavors to destroy Derek and everything he knows, and it’s been a relief. There’s still an impending feeling that something is going to happen — that this false little life they’re all leading is going to fall apart at any second — and it leaves Stiles sometimes pacing the length of his room at night with worry.

Since they’ve come back to BH, Derek and Stiles have started and tried to do things differently. Whatever Kate did to Derek — which is a mystery to everyone but the alpha himself, actually — while he was captive apparently scared him into becoming more of a presence in both Stiles’ and the baby’s lives. Hell, just a week into their return back to Beacon Hills, Derek has already gotten them a moderate, three-bedroom, two-bath apartment, and even a car — an adequately-sized, azure hatchback that Stiles loves even though driving with his bump is becoming a hassle for him now. Still, Derek is apt on providing for both of them since they’ve returned home, and it makes it a little easier on Stiles now that it’s becoming apparent the baby is coming soon. Sure, he’s around six, nearly seven, months now, but it’s a huge difference in unborn baby time.

You wouldn’t think that it’d be that big of a deal, but none of Stiles’ old clothes fit, and he’s had to drop the whole “the sweats will stretch to fit me” excuse because even those have become unbearable. His wardrobe is completely different now because of his new size, and if that isn’t a neon sign blatantly stating that Stiles should be starting to think about getting things ready for the baby’s arrival, then he must be fucking blind. Not only that, he can’t really jog anymore without nearly falling or kneeing his protruding stomach, and it means that he’s more anxious than ever if a situation calls for him sprinting to save his and his unborn child’s life. It’s a lot to take in — especially so when Derek comes back with a mountain of various things they’ll need, like diapers and little pajamas that are covered in paw prints and bones and — okay, so Stiles really loved what the alpha surprised him one day when he came home.

It’s been going great, and it’s supposed to be fine.

But it’s not at the same time.

More often than not, Stiles lays awake at night for ten minutes at least, wondering when the other shoe is going to fall. It’s not their luck for them to get away so easily, and it’s definitely not in Kate’s nature to let her targets just slip into the fray without knocking them down a few pegs or something first. Derek is nervous too, but he hides his anxiousness until choice moments when he thinks Stiles isn’t looking or awake, because he’ll sometimes open the door to Stiles’ room and checks up on him, only to shut it and go back to whatever he had been doing before. Stiles likes to count the visits — almost like they were soft sheep — because it helps waste the time that insomnia and paranoia give him to fret about all of the possibilities for all Hell to break loose. Whether Kate causes it or them, it didn’t matter. Surely there would be an argument or something like the good ol’ times, right?

Yet, despite their previous insecurities and disagreements with one another, Derek and Stiles have managed to exist within an enclosed space without exploding or doing something else just as equally catastrophic. Stiles even suggested that they get one of those signs — you know, Derek, the one where it says, “it’s been this many days since an incident”? — to show how good they’re managing to function together so far. If Derek were surprised or humored, he didn’t show that, either. He always just comes to the apartment after meeting with the pack, cooks dinner, and does various things around the house that keep him busy enough to avoid Stiles.

Sure, it seems like old habits die hard, but Derek is obviously nervous about the whole impending father status that’s hanging over his head. Stiles knows this all too well because he discovered Derek in their “baby stuff” room. It’s nothing serious — nothing settled — just a lot of cardboard boxes and baskets full of numerous items of clothing, but it seemed to raise Derek’s hackles like nothing else. One night, when Stiles was going to try and sort and organize their various piles, he found Derek already occupying the space. He was just staring at this little onesie in his hands as if he wasn’t there mentally, but rather thousands of miles away from Beacon Hills and the apartment he shared with Stiles.

The omega had stalled at doorway, thinking that Derek would hear his breathing or his heartbeat, but he didn’t. Rather, the alpha just sat there among all of the things he’d brought to Stiles after he came back from pack meetings or visits with Stiles’ father to go over other things, looking as though he lost himself somewhere among the towers of diaper boxes and the collection of baby powder and diaper wipes. In front of him was the crib — a large wooden thing that Derek had purchased just the other day, at the time — only half assembled while various other parts of it lay strewn about the floor, waiting to be picked up and put into their assigned places.

It was as though Derek broke that night while trying to put it together, and Stiles has no clue as to why behind closed doors, Derek is showing a whole other face than what he lets Stiles see in the driveway when he comes home with yet another load of expensive toys and hypoallergenic baby powder. And that’s what terrifies Stiles just as much as Kate figuring shit out does.

But he doesn’t say anything — doesn’t think there’s a way to appropriately come about it, really — because he doesn’t want to be the one that lights the wick knowing that he won’t be able to put it out in time before shit blows up in his face. Instead, he just ponders about it, eats his Cheerios while Derek washes dishes off to the side, and pretends to be none the wiser when he realizes that Derek does his thousand—yard stare routine about every night when he thinks that Stiles is out cold.

Stiles wants to do something about it — he wants to ask Derek what is scaring him so badly that he has to hide himself away and panic when he thinks no one is looking. After all, he’s the one that supposed to be losing it, but it seems, as he finds Derek in that stiffened, distant trance of his for the sixth night in a row, Stiles isn’t so sure about that anymore.

Yet they go about things like they have been. Cereal in the morning while washing the dishes, waddling around the apartment while Derek visits the pack or gets money from underneath the rock he has it stashed under, and then have dinner only to go separate ways to stare at the baby’s clothing and also to stare at the man that’s apparently not ready to be a father.

And Stiles thought Kate was going to be their biggest challenge…

But, of course, she ends up being the thing that breaks their precarious peace record when Jackson wakes Stiles up at three in the morning with his shouting and pounding at the door.

Derek rushes into the room while Jackson assaults their front door, and he sees that Stiles is seemingly okay and nods at the omega before he turns and runs to see why his beta is freaking out outside. Stiles sits up with some effort, and he starts to go around his mostly spartan room to get his meager amount of things.

Maybe one reason this place never felt like home is for the fact that Stiles lived in it like he was going to leave within the next second — with his clothes resting in a bag instead of resting on hangers in the closet. But still, he’s ready, and he’s got his things ready to go too as he slips on his shoes. It’s kind of a procedure that Derek made him agree to — if something is seemingly going wrong, Stiles is to get ready to run no matter what. If it means that he has to take the car without Derek in it, well, he’s just going to have to. Derek already made it abundantly clear that the baby was the most important thing, and Stiles agreed. After all, they promised each other that no matter what, the baby came first. Stiles wasn’t going to go back on that promise, even if it meant not going to back to save Derek.

But that’s the name of the game now, and as Stiles makes sure his phone charger is in his bag and his backup is as well, he grabs his set of keys off of the nightstand and pockets them as he heads to the living room.

Jackson is there, and he’s well into his explanation of what’s going on as Derek looks like he’s about to commit murder, meaning that something has definitely gone wrong. But upon Stiles’ entrance, Derek visibly relaxes only a little, and Stiles guesses it’s because him being in sight at all times is pertinent now.

“I don’t know how they slipped up, but they did,” Jackson goes on, seemingly unaware of the omega’s presence, “Kate kidnapped five out of the six that were making the false trail for us somewhere near Quebec, and the one that made it called me only thirty minutes ago to tell that she knows we tricked her.”

Derek growls at that, and Stiles comes up to his side to offer some futile sense of comfort, “She’s probably furious now… There’s no doubt that she’ll get information out of them.”

“Are you talking about what she did to you?” Stiles asks.

The alpha sighs, “Y-Yes… Shortly after she broke Jackson and I up that night, she dragged me to one of the warehouses where she does her dirty work. She’s always been one for causing pain, so she made sure that my stay there was worth her while… I don’t know how many strains of wolfsbane she used and what she did with them exactly, I just remember feeling like I was burning out of my own skin and wishing that it’d kill me before anything else. I got so desperate I told her everything she wanted to know, and I— you slipped between the cracks, Stiles… I remember begging her not to hurt you but not how she found out of your and the baby’s existence. Maybe it was discovering the phones or something else, but she knew and now she’ll know where you are again. I’ve failed at protecting you... again.”

Stiles swallows, “D-Derek, I—“

“We can’t stand here and talk,” the alpha is instantly going into autopilot, and he’s grabbing certain things around the apartment as Stiles and Jackson stand there in shock, “Every second we waste standing here talking, Kate will gain on us. We’re ahead of her. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“But where are we supposed to go, Derek?” Stiles begins to follow Derek as he rushes about the space, “Kate’s already in Canada, and she knows we’re in the US.”

“Then we’ll go to Mexico. Jackson, help me get this stuff into the car.”

Stiles scoffs as the beta rushes to comply, but Derek pays him no mind as he takes out his cell to text Stiles’ dad about them leaving, “Derek, we’ll need passports. That means that Kate can track us if we go there.”

“We’ll jump the border if we have to,” the alpha growls, his eyes flashing red as he looks at Stiles, “She’s not going to hurt either of you ever, and I’m certainly not letting her get another chance at it. If you think that I’m being callous or something, then you’re going to have to suck it up. Kate isn’t going to kill you or the pup because of me.”

And there is it — the blaming — the guilt in Derek’s eyes from where Stiles knows he accuses himself for all of Kate’s wrong doings. It’s the kind of weight that his gaze carries when he looked at that onesie one night, because Derek knows that because of him — because of the chips he wears on his shoulder that were chiseled out by Kate — their kid will always have to bear the same scorn by association alone for the world to see, and no amount of fabric can cover that up.

“Derek, please,” Stiles murmurs as Jackson runs around them, and Derek looks so forlorn right then, “Please let’s just— we have to think about this—“

“There’s no time, Stiles,” Derek whispers, “I wish it could be different right now, that maybe we made a backup plan or something, but Kate has her ways. We have to be spontaneous and unpredictable, or else she’ll already have catalogued and prepared herself for whatever we do. I’m not letting her get her way because you want to be tactical when we can’t afford to be.”

Stiles’ eyes begin to tear up, “B-But my dad… The stuff… Derek, we had something here—“

“I know we did, and I’m sorry that we’re going to have to leave it all behind. But we can buy new stuff, Stiles, we can get your dad out of Beacon Hills if you want.”

“He wouldn’t make any trip and you know it,” Stiles hisses harshly, and tears roll down his cheeks, “And is running all we’re ever going to do? How many times we’ll we have to buy a crib set or a mobile before it gets old? How long do you think it’ll be before the kid calls the car home instead of a room?”

Derek grits his teeth together, “I— I don’t know… but we can’t talk about this now, Stiles. We need to go. Kate’s more than likely already tortured those poor bastards and knows where we are, and I know she’s too pissed and impatient to drive her way down here. By plane, she’ll be here in hours rather than days. We need to go ahead and leave before that small window closes.”

“She was supposed to get caught up there,” Stiles cries, god he hates these hormones, and Derek sighs as he has to pull Stiles to his chest, “She was supposed to get locked up like the maniac she is.”

“Well, she didn’t, and now she’s on her way to show us how pissed she is over trying to trick her like that,” Derek’s voice is calmer than Stiles expects, “The pup needs you to be strong so we can make sure it’s safe. Our boy or girl needs you to be strong for them.”

Stiles hiccups as he remembers something else, “D-Derek, I haven’t even been able to get my monthly checkup in yet… It’s supposed to be next week so we can find out the gender finally… What if— what if something’s wrong—“

Derek cups Stiles’ face, forcing the omega to look at him in the eyes as he speaks softly to him, “Stiles, nothing is wrong with the pup. It’s fine. Now please, we need to get going before Kate can change that, okay?”

“O—Okay,” Stiles shakily exhales, “okay…”

“Good. Now go out to the car and try and get your breathing back to normal, alright?”

The omega nods, and he exits the door to their duplex apartment and heads towards the car. He passes Jackson along the way — the beta’s face paled and stricken as he goes back to get more of their things. Stiles’ hands are shaking as he opens the passenger door, and he slides into the driver’s seat and buckles himself in.

“Count to ten, Stiles,” he murmurs as both Derek and Jackson rush to fill the car with things, the omega meanwhile rolling down the window to try and get air, “Count to ten and breathe in again.”

The omega chokes a little on a sob as he sees Jackson taking a diaper bag filled with various items — like baby powder or an extra pair of socks — to set in the quickly filling trunk, because this isn’t how he expected his life to end up.

Heavily pregnant, on-the-run, and terrified.

Even in his worst nightmares, he could just wake up and everything could be okay. But this is his life — this is what he’s going to have to go through — and no amount of counting or pinching his arm will help him with that.

He gasps softly as he feels a flutter under skin, one that’s stronger than when he felt it a month or two ago. His baby — his baby is kicking again.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Stiles coos at it, and he watches the fabric of his shirt move with his bump as his baby shuffles around inside of him, “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

The baby settles a little, and Stiles swallows nervously when he hears a car screech to a halt right outside their duplex, making the air swelter with the heated smell of burnt rubber.

God — if they weren’t leaving now, Stiles is sure the landlord would evict them.

“Stiles!”

“Dad?” Stiles is about to get out of the car, and as soon as his seatbelt is off, his father is already at the window, “Dad, why— why are you here?”

“I know about Kate figuring things out,” his dad murmurs, and he takes a hand and runs it through his cropped hair, “Erica came and picked me up so I could see you before you had to take off.”

Stiles winces at that, “I’m sorry that I’m having to run off like this again, dad…”

“No, don’t start with me on that, okay? That woman is a nut job, and damn her for wanting to hurt both my boy and my unborn grandkid. That’s nothing you need to associate with yourself.”

The omega exhales shakily, “But dad, this isn’t— isn’t this just a big mistake? I mean, this all could’ve been avoided and—“

His father places a hand on the side of his face, “Stiles, sometimes we do stupid things, and whether we want it or not, things can happen because of these stupid choices of ours. You may think that you need a time machine so you can ‘right this wrong’ and get back to how life once was, but kid, there’s just one thing you’ve got to understand.”

“And that is?”

Derek shuts the trunk as Stiles’ father answers, “The mistakes that we make, either good or bad, make us who we are as a person. If you were to fix your past and erase every single bad decision you’ve made, who in the hell would you be then?”

“Dad—“

“Remember that time when you were six,” his dad says fondly with tears in his eyes, and Stiles can hear the pack arguing off to the side, Derek’s voice being the angriest and loudest of the bunch, “you tried to tell your mom and I that the wind knocked over the ceramic pig cookie jar we had?”

Stiles smiles solemnly, “Y—Yeah… Mom was angry because it was a wedding present for you guys.”

A tear rolls down his father’s cheek, “She was… But don’t you remember how you also lied by saying a fairy came in the house and fixed it with tape for her the very next day as an apology?”

Stiles’ soft laugh at the memory is bittersweet, “I was a terrible liar back then, and I’m sure my taping skills weren’t that much better. I think I put its eye back on upside down.”

“You did, but the point was, even though you lied to your mom about breaking it, you tried to tell her sorry by piecing it back together. That’s what I’m talking about, kid. It’s that right there,” Stiles’ dad puts a hand over his son’s heart, “It’s that kind of character that you’d lose. While most would’ve just thrown that damn thing away, you knew that there was still a chance for retribution despite it being shattered into a bunch of seemingly unmendable pieces, and that’s what you need now. Things may seem irrevocably broken, but I know you’re going to make it work. You and the baby. You just have to know that too.”

Stiles bites his lower lip as a tear or two roll off his cheekbones, and he watches them land and splatter on the crest of his bump, “T-Thanks, dad…”

“It’s what I’m here for, kiddo…” his dad pauses for a moment, “You know I love you, right?”

“How could I not know?” Stiles looks up at his dad with a miniscule smile, “You do shit like this all the time and expect me not to get the subliminal message?”

“Well it’s true… Now, before Derek drags you off to god knows where to keep that bitch from hurting either of you, I want a goodbye hug and a promise to make sure you’ll stay safe. Both of you.”

Stiles nods and reaches through the window to hug his father, “I promise, dad…”

“Good,” the ex—sheriff wraps his arms around his boy and sniffles as he hugs him goodbye, “Just make sure you two get back here in one piece…”

“Do you think Kate will do anything to you?”

Before his dad answers, Derek gets in the car and the rest of the pack join the conversation as Boyd speaks, “We’re taking your father somewhere else until Kate is stopped.”

“For good,” Derek hisses under his breath as he gets ready to drive in his seat.

“But I don’t—“ Stiles swallows his anxiety down as he looks at Erica, “Promise me you’ll take care of him like you did me, okay? He may be more adverse towards the whole baby wipe thing, but— . . . just make sure he’s alright since I can’t…”

Erica nods, “You have my word, Stiles.”

Jackson then speaks up, “Alright, I love the whole sad bon voyage party we’re having here, but Kate is on her way, and Derek and Stiles need to have already been past California’s state line by now while we get a head start ourselves.”

Derek looks towards his pack, “You two know what you’re getting into, right?”

Jackson waves a dismissive hand while his other arm drapes over Boyd’s broad shoulders, “Boyd and I got it covered, boss. Just take Stiles wherever you planned on going before you serve yourself up to that homicidal maniac on a, no pun intended, silver platter. Now come on, get going already!”

“Derek, what—“

The squeal of their car’s tires cuts Stiles off as well as the fast jerk backwards does. In seconds, the car goes from being in the driveway to being on the road, and the pack and Stiles’ dad are standing there to watch them disappear in the rearview mirror.

“Derek, you just can’t—“

“Stiles.”

“No, don’t—“ Stiles watches as Erica kisses Boyd like it’s her last chance to, and then the pack and his dad begin to get into the SUV when they finally end up getting out of sight when Derek turns, “don’t leave them… We can’t—”

“We have to, Stiles,” Derek growls, and Stiles looks over to find the alpha gripping onto the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles a ghostly white, “Kate is expecting me to still not have my memory, so she’s expecting me to be dependent on the pack.”

“Yeah well, I don’t even know how you lost your memory or anything like that, because you won’t even tell me what happened,” Stiles grits out, crossing his arms and resting them on the top of his prominent belly.

Derek laughs bitterly, “So what, you’re going to pout now?”

“Oh, there he is! There’s the Derek I’m used to! The asshole that likes to change the subject and avoid answers just like his responsibilities!”

The alpha groans, “We have hundreds of miles to drive, and I think you’re going to yell at me for all of them…”

“Damn straight I am, you dipshit!” Stiles remarks in a way that is nothing but hostile, “Things have gone to Hell in a hand basket, and you just expect me to accept not getting answers right now!? God, Derek! We’ve got a murderous psychopath on our tail, a baby that’s pretty close to being on its way into this world, and we’re mates that don’t even share the same room when we sleep at night! There is so much wrong here and I haven’t even said a god damn thing until now, yet you have the audacity to tell me that I just need to sit here and be quiet longer!?”

Derek doesn’t respond, only scowls and presses more onto the gas as they speed throughout the neighborhood they’d been living in until now.

“Derek, come the fuck on,” Stiles exasperates, “You just— we’ve been dancing around each other since you got your memory back, and it finally takes Kate’s reappearance for you to do more than buy me baby stuff and make mac n’ cheese for dinner.”

“We had a routine,” Derek murmurs, “Everything was fine until— until her.”

Stiles sighs, his anger deflating as his baby kicks what he thinks was his gallbladder, “Was it really though, Derek? In case you haven’t realized, I’m going to pop our child out here in a few short months, and they don’t even have a name. Hell, I haven’t even been able to see their gender yet because I can’t stay in one place long enough to see a doctor—“

“It’s my fault,” Derek hisses, his face set into the most serious, self-loathing scowl Stiles is sure his facial muscles are capable of contorting into, “I should’ve— I should’ve done more to protect the two of you.”

“Derek, when are you going to realize that this is more than just Kate trying to murder us? When are you going to realize that we are just as fucked up as everything else? I mean, you won’t even talk to me, dude. You’re either out of the apartment, with the pack, or in the nursery— even though it wasn’t even remotely ready for a baby. For God’s sake— it was storage space, Derek. Had we been able to stay a few more months there, our son or daughter would’ve had to play in cardboard boxes and bubble wrap.”

Derek’s scowl somehow worsens, “We would’ve had it ready…”

Stiles exhales roughly in disbelief, “Are you just telling me that to make me get off your ass?”

“Would it matter if I honestly was?”

“See, this is our problem, Derek. We’re a mated pair that is anything but, we have a kid due here shortly and we don’t have anything remotely ready for them, and we’re currently running away from a murderous, vindictive psychopath that has a dark agenda against you and your unborn baby growing inside of me. Tell me, what could you say right now that could make this okay?”

The alpha sighs, and some of the tension he’s been harboring in his stiffened shoulders leaves, “I can promise you that I’m going to try… I’m going to try to make this better for you and the baby.”

“But will that be enough?”

“I don’t know.”

And surprisingly, Stiles knows he’s telling the truth with at least that answer.

They end up somewhere near San Francisco before Stiles has to declare a mandatory stop. So far, he’s been giving Derek an easy way out by peeing in a bottle, but there’s only so much time he can save by using an empty Deer Park bottle as his portable toilet.

“Are you sure you can’t hold it?”

“Uh, dude, have you seen me lately?” Stiles gestures to his engorged middle, and he’s scowling as Derek pulls up into a parking space in front of a seedy-looking rest stop, the alpha’s eyes drifting over to Stiles’ large bump as he shifts into park, “I’m huge now, and I’ve got this huge baby resting atop of my bladder when it’s empty, meaning that there is no more space for a full bladder. I only get a span of thirty minutes in between bathroom breaks, and you know what, buddy? It’s growing shorter and shorter since your kid is hogging up the space where my organs used to be.”

Derek licks his lips and forces himself to look away from Stiles’ baby-plumped middle while the omega opens the passenger side door, “Sorry that it’s inconvenient for you…”

Stiles groans as he stretches his stiffened ankles out onto the tarmac below, “Damn straight it’s inconvenient. I can’t wait till they pop out. I’m kinda done being pregnant, I don’t know about you.”

Stiles looks over to the alpha, only to find him eyeing the bump again longingly.

“Oh god, never mind, I do know about you,” Stiles grimaces as his cheeks heat, “You know, I thought that it was just a ‘spur of the moment’ kinda thing when you kept mentioning the whole, uh… breeding thing that night… but I guess that you were actually serious about that one…”

“It’s natural for an alpha to crave that sort of thing,” Derek grits out, and once again, he has to literally rip his gaze away from Stiles’ baby belly, “Just— go to the bathroom. The sooner you’re out of there, the more ground we can cover, and then we can stop for the night earlier, too.”

Stiles sighs in relief, “Oh thank god, I thought I was going to sleep in the car.”

“If you don’t hurry up and pee, that may very well happen.”

The omega rolls his eyes with a snort, “Ugh, you’re such a jackass sometimes…”

Stiles manages to waddle in just enough time before he ends up pissing himself. It’s only as he’s flushing the water down the urinal that he finds himself in an uncomfortable position — because there’s some physically unkept dude eyeing Stiles lustfully from where he’s leaning against a nearby stall door.

“Uh, do you need any help—“

“What’s a pretty little pregnant omega like you doing out here, sweetheart?” the man purrs, and he flashes his eyes — red, fucking great — at Stiles, causing his heartbeat to racket up its tempo, “Don’t you know that you’re supposed to have your alpha with you at all times? Otherwise, someone might take advantage of your vulnerability.”

Stiles is about to defend himself — saying that Derek doesn’t need to come in there to watch him pee — but before he can, there’s a snarl, and Derek himself is pushing the alpha into a wall made of cinderblocks with a completely venomous look on his face.

“Well, his alpha’s here now, so how about you tuck your pathetic, rotten toothpick back into your pants and try fucking your consenting fist instead?”

Before the opposing alpha can wheeze out a hostile retort, Derek slams him down onto the floor roughly, making Stiles flinch out of reflex. Derek doesn’t waste any time though, and he practically drags Stiles out of the bathroom and to their hatchback.

“Derek—“

“We’ll talk later.”

As Stiles begrudgingly gets back into his seat, he realizes that it’s just the story of their lives.

“It’s been three hours, Derek,” Stiles whines haggardly from the back seat where he had to move once the baby gave him some serious heartburn, his body aching in every place imaginable, but mostly in his back and legs, “Can we just stop somewhere and sleep for a few hours?”

“We have to make it past LA,” Derek grits out, seemingly unaffected by exhaustion or anything else— as though he’s invincible up there in the driver’s seat, “I’ll feel more comfortable about stopping for the night then.”

Stiles snorts indignantly, “Yeah, and I’ll be more comfortable when I can lie down on a mattress. This isn’t good for me or the baby, especially safety wise. Think of the child, Derek.”

“Stiles, I’m serious,” the alpha states with irritation and pure stubbornness, “No city before LA. I’m not letting Kate get a jump on us because your neck is sore.”

The omega growls softly at that, “Ugh, when did you get so protective all of the sudden? I’m still used to the Derek that told me I had to leave.”

“Stiles, not now.”

“Then when can we actually talk about it?” Stiles grimaces, but he’s not approaching it angrily like he had done before, “I keep asking you time after time and all I get is a ‘not now, but later.’ Is it going to be when the baby is born that you’ll talk to me? Or wait, will you just run off with it and—“

The tires screech as Derek hits the breaks on the — thankfully — deserted highway, and luckily for Stiles, the seatbelts catch him before he slides off onto the floorboard below. But, that doesn’t mean he’s exactly comfortable or pleased at the moment.

“Don’t you dare accuse me of taking the child away,” Derek growls, his eyes reddened— it’s the maddest Stiles has seen Derek in a while.

“Could you not fucking kill us both in the process of telling me that!?” Stiles shouts, and he has to rearrange himself on the backseat to where the belt isn’t pulled tightly around his precious waist, and he sighs as he notices the feral, broken gaze that rests on him in the rearview mirror, “Look, Derek, I don’t know what Kate did or didn’t do, but— we don’t have to be like her.”

Derek growls under his breath, his hands tightening around the wheel hard enough to where the façade leather creaks with the strain, “I would never be like her…”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Stiles murmurs truthfully, and he manages to sit up without much difficulty, “but god dammit, Derek. I need you to talk to me. I need to know what’s going on inside that head of yours. How are we going to survive Kate chasing us if we do nothing except butt heads all the time?”

The alpha takes a deep breath, “I— I don’t know…”

“Then I guess the first step is you destroying that verbal blockage of yours, because this whole ‘let’s leave Stiles in the dark about everything’ trope is getting old. Look, the pack is risking their lives to protect us and the baby, and I have no idea what they’re out there risking their lives for. Hell, my dad is in danger, and you won’t tell me a single thing about what Kate will do. Do you understand how bad of a dilemma that is when I have anxiety? It means that I’m staying up at night wondering what the hell she’s going to do— what messed up fucking attack and method of torture she’s using next— and let me tell you, a mind filled with intrusive thoughts can lead to some magical, demented shit, rest assured…”

“I don’t know if clearing it up for you would help…”

“It would,” Stiles mutters softly, “It’d help settle this nagging in my head. It’ll help me know what to expect. Besides, you said that the pack was going to face the same stuff Kate put you through. I want to know what they’re putting their lives on the line for, okay?”

Derek exhales, “Sometimes being in the dark is a good thing, Stiles.”

“Is it? Is it really, Derek? ‘Cause let me tell you, I have not had a single ounce of light shed on what’s happened, and I’m getting suffocated with trying to convince myself it’ll be alright. I need to know, Derek. I need to know so I don’t feel like Kate’s going to pop out of a bush the next second and do some Vulcan nerve pinching on me, okay?”

The alpha takes a second to inhale deeply before he closes his eyes and exhales through his mouth, “I’ll tell you what Kate does and what she’s done, but you have to promise me that you won’t jump my case about it. Give me some time…”

“Okay,” Stiles mumbles back, and he looks out of the side window to stare at the orange streetlamps, “but understand that I won’t wait forever. We don’t have the time for that anymore.”

“Did we ever, really?” Derek says delicately, and Stiles mulls the question over as the alpha goes back to driving them down the highway.

By the time that Derek finally settles on a motel to stop at, Stiles has already been drifting off in the back seat. Hell, the only reason he knows that Derek even stopped somewhere is for the fact the omega opened his eyes to find the alpha carrying him into their room for the night. Still, Stiles is exhausted — after all, growing a baby can do that to you — and just lets his head fall onto Derek’s chest before he gets set down on the bed. He can feel the alpha move the blanket over his shoulders until he’s tucked away gently.

Stiles’ instincts — the ones that recognize Derek for being his mate — are going haywire in response to Derek taking care of him. The omega can hear traitorous voices in his head praising Derek for being a good alpha and a good mate, making Stiles feel queasy when he hears Derek sigh and step away from him.

Yet, when the alpha apparently takes the other bed on the side — the sound of him pulling a different set of sheets over himself apparent apart from the hum of the ancient air conditioner — Stiles doesn’t know whether to feel relived or disappointed that Derek’s distancing habit is still holding strong.

They don’t talk much the next day on the road; at least, they don’t speak more than necessary. Stiles guesses that having Derek agree to talk about what happened to him eventually apparently covers all branches of conversation, meaning that the alpha is completely silent as he drives them down to the tail end of California. It leaves Stiles staring out the side windows with a soft grimace on his face, or occasionally changing the radio station whenever the commercials or talk shows come on. Overall, the ride is utterly boring, and it easily beats prolonged detention with Harris when he was still in high school.

Still, Stiles doesn’t push it — or more specifically, doesn’t push Derek. He knows that if he does, his only chance for Derek ever actually talking to him may be wasted. In fact, he’ll get shut out entirely by the angsting werewolf if he’s not careful.

So Stiles lets the silence carry on, even though he feels like exploding in frustration because of it.

“Stiles, wake up.”

Stiles’ eyes drearily blink open a few times, and he sees the building that is the border checkpoint being illuminated by stark sunlight. It must be noon, then. When had he fallen asleep?

“Der?” Stiles rubs at one of his eyes, and he straightens himself from where he had been resting against the car window.

“We’re about to get checked next. I need you to stay quiet and let me do all of the talking, okay? I’ll tell them you don’t speak Spanish, so hopefully they won’t talk to you. Just— if there’s one time for you not to use that big mouth of yours, it’s now.”

The newfound tension in the car is overwhelming, because Stiles already knows that since Kate is tracking their every move, a paper trail — like a used passport — will certainly set off some alarms, meaning that the ones that he and Derek are using are going to be fake, blank ones Derek had lying around just in case he needed to go off radar.

“I filled yours out to the proper specifications while you were in the shower this morning,” the alpha explains as the border patrol officers close the trunk of the car in front of them, “Your name is Dylan and mine is Tyler. You were born in the same year as I was, which is 1989, but you were a February baby born on the sixth. You’ve lived in LA your entire life until now, because I got a job down here and we needed to move before our pup is born. I’m going to tell them I’m surprising you about my employment as an anniversary present, so you’re unaware of a lot of things. That, and you’re too busy with the baby.”

“Dude! How am I supposed to remember all of that!?”

“Hopefully they won’t question you in English, unless you want to go with another language?”

Stiles nods, “Polish. You can say my grandparents were immigrants and that I was born and raised in the US like my mom was. You can argue that my dad’s nationality is the one on the passport, if need be.”

Derek sighs, “I think it’ll be fine, but sure, I’ll— I’ll fall back on that. For right now, you’re mute.”

The officers let the car in front of them go, and they turn to come inspect Derek and Stiles’.

“Oh, and maybe pulling some pregnant hormone stuff would be nice too,” Derek mutters quickly, “Everyone’s a sucker for an omega and their unborn pup.”

“So now’s the perfect time for me to whine about going pee?”

“Unless you know how to complain in Polish, then no. Like I said, you’re mute right now.”

Stiles huffs, “Jackass…”

By the time that the officers reach the car, Stiles is already feeling completely out of his element. Having a sheriff for a father meant that he had gotten sneaky about a few things, but he was wise to stay out of trouble at the same time. It means that while Stiles is a veteran at pulling the wool over someone’s eyes if need be, he’s like a fish out of water as the border patrol officer goes over his illegitimate passport.

The man’s dark gaze switches between Stiles and his passport, and after a few moments, he looks over to Derek, who had been speaking in fluent Spanish to the other officer, to gauge him. Stiles swallows nervously out of habit, especially so when his gaze slips down to Stiles’ bump resting in his lap. After a few moments of seemingly studying Stiles’ baby belly, the officer nods and hands Stiles back his passport, and goes on to inspect the rest of their car.

It must be obvious that they have innocent intentions — after all, there’s a diaper bag in the backseat and a baby resting Stiles’ inside of Stiles’ abdomen — and the officers don’t give them much grief while they look through the items in the back of the car. Derek, though, must be the selling point, because he’s speaking Polish — fucking Polish — right then to Stiles in the sweetest voice, telling him to calm down and that everything’s going to be okay. The omega is looking at him like he’s grown two heads, because jeez, he was not expecting this.

Nor was he expecting the officers to find his camera in his bag of things.

Low whistles come from the back, and both Stiles and Derek pivot immediately to see the two officers smirking and nudging each other as they go through the images saved onto the memory card of Stiles’ camera. They both look up and smirk at Stiles, making him blush and hide his face away as he remembers that he never did delete those photos from that night with Derek.

“Es una de esas parejas,” the one with a mustache says to the other with a smile.

“Por supuesto que son. Los has visto? Ellos las guapas siempre terminan juntos,” the other rolls his eyes lightly and then huffs bitterly, “Es tan injusto, hombre.”

With a sigh, the mustached man sets the camera back down into the contents of Stiles’ bag, “No hay desacuerdo. Los omegas que son las más bonitas son siempre los que ya se alegue y pasando por el vientre de embarazada que uno tiene, yo diría que fue reclamada bastante bien.”

The clean shaven officer snorts, “Él se ve como si estuviera a punto de estallar. La fuerza también enviarlos en su camino antes de que él da a luz en el asiento del pasajero.”

They close the trunk and pat the hood of the car, signaling Derek to drive forward. Stiles turns to Derek then, about to ask what in the hell just happened when he sees how furious Derek looks.

“Derek?”

“If I don’t drive away now, I’m going to end up hurting them,” Derek growls out, his hands making the steering wheel creek under the pressure of his tightened fingers.

Stiles swallows, “Uh, care to elaborate?”

“It’s just the everyday case of nosey, vulgar alphas,” he grits out as the checkpoint in the rearview mirror blurs with distance behind them, though, his voice goes softer a few moments later, “I thought you deleted those, you know.”

“Deleted what?”

“The photos… from that night…” Derek mumbles while he drives, “I thought you deleted them.”

Stiles blushes furiously and doesn’t have the heart to look at the alpha, “O—Oh, those… I— um, I might’ve forgotten about them, but—“

“Stiles,” Derek asserts gently, and it’s surprising to the omega for him to be so at ease with what apparently just occurred, “It’s okay. I’m just— I’m caught off guard is all. I thought that you got rid of them when— when I— … It doesn’t matter now, I guess.”

“Does it?”

“Does it, what?”

“Actually not matter?” Stiles inquires quietly, his fingers fiddling nervously with one another, “I mean, I’m kind of expecting you to skin me for holding onto them, honestly.”

“Now why would I do that?”

Stiles swallows before he answers, “Because, you— you’re always mad or always look like you’re one second from ripping someone’s throat out. With your teeth, no less.”

The words seem to shock Derek, “I do? …”

“Yeah, I mean, you give off this air of infuriation all the time, like you’re just about to explode on someone.”

“Oh,” and it’s all he apparently has to say on the matter.

“Yeah, oh,” the omega hums gingerly, letting his gaze return to the view out of his window, “So you really aren’t mad at me?”

Derek sighs, “No, Stiles, I’m not… I’m sorry if I— if I’ve made you feel unsafe around me… There’s just a lot I’m stressing about, and I guess it wears off more than I thought.”

That makes Stiles snort in agreement, “You know, you could always vent if you need to.”

“You’d let me?”

“Yeah, man. Sure. I get that sometimes there can be too much in your head and you just gotta—“ Stiles waves his hand around in the air to do a vague motion, “let it out.”

The alpha hums for a second before he quiets enough to speak, “Kate Argent messed me up, Stiles.”

Normally, the omega would say something along the lines of, “trust me, I know” or “that was obvious from the start,” but he knows that Derek is finally pouring himself out to him, and now is not the time for some asshole-ish quips. Instead, Stiles listens in fully, his attention focused on the werewolf completely as he sets his face into a scowl while he drives.

“Our families thought that, after years of us fighting, that we could call a truce by having Kate and I marry. It was just so archaic and unfair, but I knew that if I didn’t want any more of my family to die, I had to just straighten my shoulders and do as my alpha told me to,” Derek swallows, his mood downcast and his voice solemn, “Kate didn’t think like that. At the beginning, she feigned innocence and willingness, making it that much easier for her to just slip in and put her nails where it hurt. I had no clue that the whole time she and her grandfather had nefarious plans to take us down from the inside until it was already too late.”

The alpha pulls over then, apparently too emotional and caught up in his past to keep driving, but he keeps the car on, the hum of the engine gently mixing into the sound of his voice.

“For a month before she burned down my family’s main estate, she’d told me she was pregnant. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t ecstatic, because I was. A new pup was always something to be happy about, and I was so ready— so fucking eager— to get to be a dad… But Kate used that against me. It’s like she knew that the pup she was supposedly carrying was my weakness. It took her a day— just a day— to begin blackmailing me with it. It’s like she changed overnight…”

Stiles looks towards the dashboard, and a hand subconsciously makes its way to his bump, “What do you mean?”

“I remember I woke up and she— she—“ Derek’s voice breaks, and he waits a few seconds to speak, his eyes shut tightly when Stiles looks over to him, “she made me start telling her our most important secrets. She told me, ‘an eye for a baby, sweetie,’ like it was nothing. She knew how much wolves care for their unborn pups, she knew how much I cared from the night she told me alone, and she knew how much it terrified me to have her threatening to carve it out of her stomach if I didn’t tell her what she wanted to know.”

Stiles feels bile rise in his throat, “So she extorted a false pregnancy for details…”

“And more,” Derek grits out darkly, “I didn’t know she was faking it at the time. She used false pheromones and anything else to convince me she was expecting our pup. I mean, we— we had sex, and most of it was unprotected, but I should’ve been able to tell it was fake…”

The omega slips his hand around Derek’s tightened one, “Derek, if I know anything about Kate from personal experience, it’s that she likes to make everyone’s life a living Hell… Something tells me she’ll go the extra mile to ensure it.”

Derek laughs bitterly, “And she did. She came over with ultrasound pictures one day, told me, ‘look, here’s the parasite in the flesh’ and they looked so real that I—“ Derek’s hand opens and squeezes Stiles’, and he hangs his head a little, “I had tried to get the upper hand that day… I tried to just stop telling her things like what my cousins were allergic to and what kind of wolfsbane made us sneeze to which one made us throw up and made the pain so unbearable that we’d tell her anything she needed or wanted to know… But she was able to keep hers and keep me under her thumb. I remember after she grabbed a steak knife from the kitchen and held it to her lower abdomen that I broke and gave in. The whole time she was holding that fucking ultrasound picture, and I just— I remember looking between that and the knife, and I knew that I was playing a dangerous game that could get my unborn child killed if I didn’t answer right. I couldn’t do that to them— I couldn’t kill my own child, indirectly or not… So I told her everything she wanted to know and she laughed at me, called me an overly trusting mutt and that I’d be trained for her in no time…”

“Jesus,” Stiles exhales roughly.

“That same night, she asked about our wolf forms. My family was known to be one of the only werewolf groups that could shift so easily into our wolf forms, and she wanted to know if there was any way to break that balance— to push us over the edge to make us the ‘real feral animals we truly are.’ I told her I didn’t know anything or of anything that could cause that, and she didn’t believe me…”

Stiles rubs a thumb along Derek’s hand, “But you were telling the truth, weren’t you?”

Derek nods, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as tears form along his bottom eyelids, “Y—Yes, but it wasn’t enough… She burned the ultrasound picture with a match, told me that ‘Hell hath no fury like her scorn’ and that ‘if you play with fire, you’ll get burned.’ I had no idea she was— she was telling me exactly what she was going to do— that she was going to burn my family alive, be them fake or real, because I was no use to her anymore.”

“You don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to,” Stiles murmurs, his throat working thickly to swallow.

“You need to know, Stiles,” the alpha hisses out in a coarse whisper, “You need to know why I— why I pushed you and our baby away like I did… I know it was wrong, and god— it felt so wrong to do… but I was terrified. I was terrified that you knew Kate and that it was happening all over again. I couldn’t lose anyone else, especially to her…”

“And you’re not going to, not on my watch,” Stiles vows seriously, “Derek, look at me.”

The alpha does, and his eyes are red and bloodshot as he meets Stiles’ stern gaze.

“Kate isn’t going to use our baby to hurt you, not when I have a say.”

Derek shakes his head, “But she won’t let you have one… I— I’ve been running from her for years now, Stiles. I only stayed in New York because that’s where a majority of my pack is— that’s where the better memories of my family are. She took everything else and burned it all away…”

“Look, I’m still mad at you for abandoning me when I needed you most, but—“ Stiles pauses for a second, “I can understand why you did it, considering. I don’t think I could be so willing either after something like that happened.”

The alpha doesn’t speak.

Stiles sighs, and he squeezes Derek’s hand.

He’s about to pull away, but he feels Derek’s tighten around his, but it’s the only physical change that happens other than when Derek mumbles, “Thank you, Stiles… for not being like her… for everything…”

It makes Stiles smile solemnly, “Don’t mention it, big guy. Now come on, I’ve needed to pee for the past five minutes, and your kid thinks it’s funny to sucker punch my bladder for taking up any space that their supposed to have.”

Derek’s lips twitch at the corners, but he doesn’t add anything else to the conversation as he puts the car in drive.

“So… boy or girl?”

Derek snaps out of his reverie, only to glance over to Stiles from where he’s scribbling things onto a notepad he stole from their motel last night, “Uh, what?”

“Well, it just dawned on me that we don’t have any names figured out for this kid, and since we don’t know what gender it is… I was kind wondering what gender you think they might be.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he murmurs.

“So your werewolf mojo doesn’t tell you anything?” Stiles sets the pad of paper down in curiosity, “I thought that maybe I’d have a specific scent, you know? Like maybe it smells like cedar or hamburgers if it’s a boy, or maybe like lilacs or cupcakes if it’s a girl. That all sounds so stereotypical, though…”

Derek smirks softly, the saturated sunset making his features pop out in a stark fashion, “No, there’s no gender-specific smell, Stiles. Your scent is the same. Sure, you have the additional pheromones of pregnancy, but other than that, you’re seemingly normal.”

“Oh,” the omega huffs with some disappointment, “I’m not going to lie, I was kind of excited to smell like a candy bar or something.”

“You do smell sweet, but not like anything too specific.”

“Do I smell edible, at least?” Stiles blurts, only to clear his throat with blush tinting his cheeks, “Of course, I meant in like a— a kind of chocolate or— shit…”

Derek chuckles at him as he pulls up to a nicer looking hotel than the motel they had stopped at while they were still in Cali, “You kind of remind me of the smell of red cherries.”

That makes him perk up a little, “Is that a good thing?”

The alpha grins smugishly as he opens his car door to go to the front desk, “Well, it’s my favorite artificial flavoring, so it’s a start to being edible, I suppose.”

The comment leaves Stiles gaping and left alone in the car for about ten minutes. When Derek gets back into the car, he’s still smirking, and it makes Stiles punch him softly in the arm.

“Who said you could make a joke?”

“Who said I was joking?”

Stiles squeaks, but Derek isn’t even phased. He’s grinning like the bastard he is as he pulls the car up into a free spot.

“Now, stop blushing and go inside,” Derek chuckles a little, “I’m sure you have to pee again.”

“Okay, unfair,” Stiles hisses, and he manages to get himself out of the chair without much issue, “Did you use your werewolfy senses to sniff that one out?”

Derek’s smirk widens, if that’s even possible really, “So you’re saying you smell like pee?”

“You—“ Stiles presses his lips together tightly before groaning in frustration, leaving Derek laughing as he grabs a few bags from the trunk, “Insufferable ass…”

It’s later during the night now, and the two have settled as best as they could into their temporary room. Stiles has already taken a shower and is in his pajamas, browsing about the food service menu while Derek surfs the channels on the TV.

“You know, I’m kind of glad that I took some Spanish in high school and not French,” he tells Derek, “otherwise, I’d be completely fucked right now.”

Derek snorts from off to the side, “You know, I could read that menu to you, if you needed me to.”

“Yeah, I know you could, Mr. Bilingual,” Stiles rolls his eyes lightly as Derek settles on a Spanish-subtitled episode of House Hunters, “Speaking of, literally… I— I didn’t expect you to speak Polish. . . You know, back at the checkpoint…”

“I had to learn it and many others because we do a lot of work with immigrants up in New York,” Derek informs him quietly, making Stiles look over to see the alpha in his own little world as he speaks, “My mom used to sit me down throughout the week after school and teach me. They’re some of my best memories of her…”

Stiles frowns at the reminder of Claudia, “You know, I never really got to know my mom…”

Derek glances over to Stiles as he turns the TV off, his expression mostly blank sans a hint of sympathy and understanding, “How come?”

“She died of frontal temporal dementia when I was seven,” the omega whispers, but he notices that his voice is starkly loud without the television playing in the background, “Most of the time she was in the hospital, so… I don’t really remember her other than being there and being sick and then being dead. My dad has been all I’ve really had throughout the years… He taught me Polish because my mom originally named me after my grandad. I never knew how to pronounce it, though, so I’ve been using Stiles ever since. I’m happy my dad doesn’t have hard feelings about it.”

“Your dad, he— . . .“ Derek pauses for a moment, as though he’s unsure to press on, “he’s not exactly in top condition anymore, is he? . . .”

Stiles shakes his head, “N-No… He used to be the sheriff in Beacon Hills, but he got shot on the job years ago. A burglary gone wrong, I think… My dad doesn’t really remember it happening. He told me that one moment he was in his patrol car heading to the call and the next he was in a hospital bed a few months later…”

“It must’ve been hard…”

“It was,” Stiles mumbles, “I was freshly graduated still, only a few months out of public school when it happened initially. I was already signed up for college then and everything had been finalized a week after I got my diploma. By the time my father woke up, I was already a month or so into my freshman year at BHU. He was so freaked out and he didn’t know what was going on, and he made himself sick with the stress… The gunshots to his chest weakened his heart and made him vulnerable to more than he ever thought possible… He spent an extra month or two in the hospital because he ended up getting an infection. By the time he actually got out, we were chin deep in medical bills and he was forced to medically retire from the force due to his injuries…”

Stiles hadn’t noticed Derek getting up from his bed on the opposite side of Stiles’, and he jumps slightly as he feels the alpha sit down beside him, “How did you make it so far, then?”

“Because I’m a stubborn, determined little shit,” Stiles chuckles softly, but he doesn’t look at Derek beside him, “I did a lot of side jobs while I was taking classes, and I took several actual, legit ones during breaks and in the summers in between. I still owe some money, but we’re definitely better off than we were originally.”

“I could help out with that if you wanted…”

Stiles’ head jolts up to see Derek’s face only inches from his own, “You’re not going to murder someone, are you?”

“Stiles, I may run an international motorcycle gang, but I’m not like a mafia boss taking out hit jobs or anything,” Derek huffs softly, but he locks Stiles’ gaze with his own, his words sincere as he goes on, “But, I’m serious… If you want, I’ll help you take care of the rest of the medical bills that your dad has.”

The omega swallows nervously, his heartbeat quickening a little, “What have you done with the Derek that I’m used to?”

“That Derek was an ass,” the alpha says softly, his gaze lessening a fraction in its intensity, “I care about you, Stiles… Maybe it took Kate kidnapping and making me forget to realize things and become a better alpha for you, but— I want you and the baby to be happy after the hell I put you both through.”

“But—“ Stiles takes a deep breath, and he breaks eye contact with Derek as he looks away completely, “But I can’t just take a handout from you. I shouldn’t even be letting you do what you are now. I should be raising hell and cursing you out for treating the baby and I the way that you did.”

“And you should. You have every right to do that to me, if you wanted.”

Stiles groans with frustration, “But would it really matter in the end? I mean, we’re adults who made an adult mistake. I shouldn’t act like a teenager and whine about a wronging you did. Albeit, it was a super bad wronging, but— I understand that it’s kind of pointless and irrational for me to stomp my feet and pout about it.”

Derek scowls in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“We’ve got a baby on its way, and it’ll be here in two to three months, Derek,” Stiles begins, and he looks Derek in the eye, hoping that his gaze can tell Derek just how serious and terrified he is at the same time, “Kate is on our tail and she wants to kill our kid and torture you in every way possible. Sure, you were an ass ninety—nine percent of the time I’ve known you, but geez, the line’s gotta be drawn somewhere in the sand, doesn’t it? There’s got to be a point where we just stop acting like vindictive kids and realize that we’re going to be parents and we have some serious responsibilities hanging over our heads, right?”

“So you’re saying that it’s gotten beyond the point of holding grudges…”

“Yes,” Stiles grunts, and then he sighs, “The drama’s got to end, Derek. While I want to shut you out and make you feel like I did through those months after you turned me away, I realize that it’s so fucking counterproductive right now. If anything, pushing you away will hurt the baby more than anything else. Fuck, it’ll make it so much easier for Kate to get a hold of me again if I run off into the sunset to go cry over something that happened almost five months ago, despite it being understandable in some ways. Still, things have changed since then— we’ve changed since then.”

Derek nods in understanding, “You’re right…”

“Of course I am,” Stiles snorts, but he quickly reverts back to being serious, “But still, Derek, while what you did was shitty and unforgivable in numerous ways, I understand that it was a different time and a different place for the both of us. Now is more important, though. Our kid needs us to work together and not be at each other’s throats over past demons, because if it doesn’t have that, there’s no chance that it’ll— that it won’t make—“ Stiles pauses, his throat tightening at the thought of their baby getting hurt or worse because of their own selfish actions, and going by the nearly inaudible whine from Derek, it’s not that pleasant for him either, “It won’t have any chance of surviving if we don’t pull both of our heads out of our asses and work together to keep it safe.”

The alpha hums for a split second, but when he speaks, his voice is saturated in sincerity, “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to man up— alpha up— whatever,” Stiles insists quietly, “We can’t afford the luxury of being enemies anymore, because it matters more than ever for us to work together. I guess it’s another promise we’re going to have to make, but… this one is more permanent. This one lasts a lifetime because it’s for our kid.”

“For our kid,” Derek echoes like a stern vow, and he grabs a hold of Stiles’ hand to squeeze it like he had done in the car earlier, “Everything we do from now on is for our kid, anything and everything else be damned.”

The omega nods once to agree, and exhales deeply as some weight leaves his shoulders, “Now that issue is settled…”

“One down, so many others to go,” the werewolf comments under his breath, and then he picks up the menu with one hand while the other holds onto Stiles’ still, “So... how does food sound?”

Stiles’ stomach growling is a response within itself, “Uh, good, apparently… Read away, Mr. Bilingual.”

Derek smiles and does as he’s told.

After they’ve eaten, Derek showers while Stiles brushes his teeth in the same space.

It’s strange, because it feels so oddly domestic and foreign — especially now that he and Derek have settled the nagging issue of their pasts.

There’s something new in the air — this lively buzz that hums in undertones against Stiles’ skin, making the small hair along his forearms and biceps prickle as Derek showers behind Stiles without much issue. It makes Stiles want to curse, because god dammit all — he feels like someone who’s getting to spend the night with their crush.

It’s almost like Stiles’ body knows that things are less hostile between him and the alpha, and it doesn’t help that Stiles steals a few glances to the outline of Derek’s nude form as he bathes either. The omega blames it on the fact that being pregnant makes him horny to an extent in general, and that since he and Derek are apparently mates, that there was some biological attraction there to begin with either way. Being the father of his pup doesn’t help either, because of course that’s also working against Stiles at the moment while his mind wanders off into very dangerous places. Call him pathetic if you want to, but he hasn’t rubbed a good one out since the day that he had to initially leave Beacon Hills with the pack, and it’s left him feeling a little pent up and squirmy as he spits out into the sink.

The shower stops running, and Stiles stiffens slightly as Derek grabs a towel from the rack and pushes the curtain back, leaving Stiles to avert his gaze to the sink basin below with wide eyes.

“I don’t know why you’re embarrassed,” Derek says idly as he dries himself off behind the omega as he rinses his mouth out in a hurry, “It’s obviously not like we haven’t had sex before now.”

Stiles squeaks indignantly and quickly spits out the water in his mouth before he chokes on it completely, “I— Derek, I just—“

“Craving sex is normal, especially with how far along you are,” he goes on, seemingly unaffected by the topic of conversation like Stiles is, “Hell, I’m surprised this hasn’t been an issue before now.”

“It’s not like— like I can help it,” Stiles hisses out as his cheeks burn pathetically.

Derek chuckles, “I know you can’t, and that’s why I’m not holding anything against you. Or, in this case, holding you against anything…”

That makes Stiles stiffen in more ways than one, “You’re so not helping.”

“I can’t help it either, I’m a sucker for seeing you get flustered,” he jokes, and going by the bits of his reflection Stiles can see in the mirror, he’s wrapping his towel around his waist, “but in all seriousness, I’m not going to do anything if you don’t want me to.”

Knowing that it’s safe — or should be, at least — Stiles pivots to look at the werewolf, “That’s— are you serious?”

“Trust me, I’m more than willing to lend a helping hand,” Derek says as he gestures to the half-chub tenting Stiles’ pajama pants, “but at the same time, I know that you’ll more than likely bite my knot off before I can do anything.”

“I am still angry with you over stuff, and I never did agree that the whole ‘working together’ promise applied to sex,” he points out.

Derek rolls his eyes lightly, “I know you didn’t, and I figured this would be the case. I mean, I’m not begging for it or anything, I’m just telling you that I want it just as much as you do, in a sense… I understand if you don’t want to as a form of punishment.”

“So you’re expecting me to hold out on you because I’m still pissed, despite the agreement?”

“No, you’re holding out on me because you have the right to,” he corrects Stiles, and he steps out of the shower onto the bathmat in front of the tub, but even then he’s still a foot or two apart from Stiles, “You don’t have to do anything unless you want to, and if that means that you want to give me blue balls because I was an asshole, then you do that. You take care of things yourself if you have to. I can control myself.”

Stiles gapes at Derek, “So you aren’t going to, I dunno, jump me if I do something in the shower or hump me during my sleep because I’ve got a stiffy?”

The offended twist of Derek’s features in an answer within itself, “God, I may be a werewolf, but I’m not a damn dog, Stiles.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. No sex unless I’m onboard and willing for it. Gotcha,” Stiles gives Derek a, hopefully, encouraging thumbs up.

The alpha only stares at it, scowls, and then gives Stiles an unimpressed glance before he leaves the room.

Shamefully, Stiles shuts the door and quickly takes care of business before he returns to the room, and, just as promised, Derek doesn’t break down the door once Stiles finishes his personal ministrations.

It isn’t until Stiles returns to the room that he sees Derek is lying on the bed opposite of Stiles’, his back turn to the omega as he lies there, completely stilled. For a moment, Stiles thinks he got off — literally in some ways — scot-free, that is, until Derek speaks calmly like the collected bastard he is at heart.

“You could’ve at least washed your hands.”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Stiles hisses in utter mortification, and he quickly buries himself under the covers for protection, as if it’d even make a difference in what just transpired.

The alpha chuckles, but doesn’t make a move for Stiles just like he said he wouldn’t, making it that much easier on Stiles to fall asleep once his adrenaline and hormones settle down enough for a highly-deserved nap.

That morning, Stiles wakes up to Derek shaking him to consciousness, but instead of it being for a quickie or anything remotely sexual, it’s so that the deluxe breakfast he had ordered Stiles would be eaten before it went cold.

So yeah . . . Brownie points for Derek, Stiles supposes.

Asshole. . .

“Gwen,” Derek says suddenly.

They’re in the car now, driving to find somewhere else to sleep for the night, but thus far it had been completely silent as the alpha drove. In fact, Stiles was even slipping off here and there. He doesn’t get where “Gwen” came into this.

Stiles sits up a little, and he groggily wipes at his right eye, “What?”

“Earlier you mentioned something about picking names,” the alpha quietly states, “I was thinking about Gwen, in case it’s a girl.”

Stiles finds himself awake in seconds, and he scrambles for his notepad, “Oh, okay… Gwen is— . . . Gwen is good. I can deal with Gwen.”

“Have you had any of your own ideas?”

Stiles sighs as he looks at the small piece of paper, most of it being covered in inky censor scribbles, “No, not really. I might’ve liked one for a split second, but then I hated it the next…They never tell you how hard picking out a name really is.”

“Certainly not,” Derek chuckles softly, “What about… Tyler, if it’s a boy? I like the name Tyler.”

“Tyler is pretty common. I mean, you did use it for your passport after all,” Stiles muses as he puts the capped bottom of the pen against his lower lip in thought, “I don’t want us getting confused if there’s another one at daycare or something… Like, what if they’re in a play and there’s another kid named Tyler also playing a tree? Who would we be encouraging to be the best maple or oak, then?”

Derek hums in consideration, “I guess that means we’re… stumped.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” Stiles frowns as Derek laughs, “The fate of our child’s first on-stage performance rests on our shoulders, and you have to go off and make puns about it.”

“I guess you could say I’m a sap—“

Stiles groans and goes back to making sure the previous, discarded choices are blotted out completely, “They’re going to get performance anxiety now. Thank you, Derek.”

Derek ends his bought of laughter with a snort, “Stiles, they’re going to be a great maple tree, okay? You don’t have to worry about things like that.”

“But I will, you know. Having anxiety in general tends to do that to someone,” he places a hand on his bump, “I’m going to go gray ‘cause of this little one.”

“You’d be like a silver fox, then,” the werewolf muses.

“Okay, so when in the hell did you grow a sense of humor when I wasn’t looking? Overnight while I was asleep? Back at the gas station when we stopped so I could have another pee break? It must’ve been recently, because you used to be as entertaining as a washed up comedian who can’t get a better gig than poetry night with the local, brain dead hipsters.”

Derek rolls his eyes lightly, “Stiles, I’ve always had a sense of humor.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have known. I couldn’t see it past your sense of assness.”

“The ugliest of traits are usually the most pronounced on a first glance.”

The omega crosses his arms as Derek stops at a red light, “Thanks for the words of wisdom, Yoda. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m trying to stir up names for our kid tonight.”

That seems to sober Derek up a little, “I am really thinking about them, you know.”

“So I’ve noticed…”

“No, I really mean that I’m thinking about it,” Derek says, all hints of humor in his voice fading away as he speaks and gets the car to roll forward when the light transitions to green, “I’m taking this just as seriously as you are, and I’m just as anxious about it.”

“You don’t seem that way— “

“Because I’ve had to train myself not to give my emotions away easily,” the werewolf states, “I had people from Kate’s gang constantly tailing me, so I had to be careful over everything. Even wincing from a stubbed toe could’ve gotten me killed.”

Stiles tilts his head in interest, “Is that why you’re so emotionally constipated all the time?”

Derek smirks at that one, “I suppose it has something to do with it… That, and forgetting for a while…”

“What do you mean?”

The alpha’s face goes slack for a second, only to scrunch up a little as he thinks, “It— it feels different this time around… I mean, I can remember everything, but— it feels like these memories aren’t mine, exactly. It’s almost like they’re from a past life that I lived. Now, I know that it’s not that way in reality in the slightest, but it certainly doesn’t feel that way since I lost my memory for a bit.”

“You know,” Stiles murmurs, “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but you never did tell me how Kate made you forget everything in the first place. Hell, I thought you were a dog until you shifted back.”

The reminder is bittersweet in a sense, “I know. My thoughts were simplified in wolf form, but I was still confused as to why you kept calling me Bear.”

“Shut up,” he gripes without the heat, his arms tightening over his chest defensively, “I wasn’t in the right head space, after all. Concussion, remember?”

“Yes,” and Derek’s back to being serious, his words laced with some anger but at what, Stiles doesn’t know, “I came back to myself more once I was able to shift, and I remember my nose was flooded with the scent of your blood and fear. It was almost too overwhelming.”

Stiles winces in sympathy, “Kind of glad I don’t have super smelling abilities like you do.”

“It has its perks and its downfalls… But still, Kate made sure that I wouldn’t remember anything because she wanted me to trust her again— to be unaware of everything she did so that if there was a chance that I got away, I’d come running right back into her open arms.”

“She told you this?”

Derek nods jerkily before Stiles has to force himself to look towards the dash, “It’s not like I was intended to remember her saying it afterwards, but yes. She told me her entire plan and how she was going to ‘finish what she started,’ especially after she found out about you and the baby…”

“She told me that you kept screaming my name,” Stiles whispers, and Derek’s expression is guilty when Stiles looks over to him, “Is that true?”

“To some degree… I begged her the rest of the time not to hurt you…”

“O-Oh…”

Derek nods once, and the cab of their hatchback fills with an awkward, solemn air, “She found out through the phone records and texts that you were pregnant with my pup. After that, you’re all she wanted to know about…”

Stiles, on instinct, places a hand over his belly, “Did she find out what she wanted to know?”

“I— I’m not sure, but I’m pretty positive she got a lot out of me,” he pauses, “She remembered what I had told her before she attacked my family, specifically about the types of wolfsbane and what effect they had on a werewolf. She had bred this new— new hybrid or something, like it was a class project or an experiment for a science fair, and she was aiming to get an A or first place…”

“What did it do?”

Derek growls then, his irises starting to bleed into their other natural hue, “It’s a nasty strain she concocted using some of the most poisonous and harmful ones found in the wild. It’s like a hellish combination of all the worsts you can find, and it was torture— complete and utter torture. It drove my wolf mad with pain and desperation for it to stop…”

Stiles doesn’t want to know what that was like, “Do you know which ones she used to make it with?”

“More than likely the hallucinogenic and neurotoxic ones,” the werewolf sighs, “I felt like I was going out of my mind in there… Eventually the wolf just took over out of instinct to protect myself, and everything just went— … blank.”

“I think that’s why you couldn’t remember anything,” the omega says softly, “It’s like your wolf didn’t want you to hurt anymore, even if it was a past wound that was still bleeding mentally… Do you think it’d be able to block out memories like that?”

With a sigh, Derek turns into the parking lot of yet another motel, “It could be possible, but I’m sure Kate had her mountain ash specialized for causing those sort of things. Hell, even then, the wolfsbane she created could’ve done it as well. There’s just too much to know what caused it.”

As Derek turns the engine off, Stiles asks, “Is that one reason you were so afraid of sending the pack out, then?”

Derek stills immediately, his eyes widening as if he wasn’t expecting the question, “What?”

“The pack… They went off on their own… I know that Erica is taking care of my dad for the time being, but I have no clue as to what Boyd and Jackson are doing.”

“They’re making another false trail for us, but this time, they’re making sure it’s done right.”

Stiles’ eyes widen, “W—What?”

“I strongly suggested against it, told them what they were getting themselves into, but if they’re anything other than stupid, it’s being stubborn,” with that, Derek sighs, “They care about you and the pup, Stiles. They want Kate to hurt you both just as much as I do.”

The omega grimaces, “But— . . . they don’t— they don’t have to do this— “

“I really did try to get the idea out of their heads. We were arguing about it while you were talking to your dad,” and Stiles remembers the bickering off to the side while he said goodbye to his old man, “but they were adamant that they ‘do it right’ this time.”

With a nervous inhale, Stiles asks, “Do they know what Kate can do?”

“I shouldn’t even have to tell them by now. Kate’s always been an issue for the pack. They were there before her reign of terror, and they’re still here now. If there’s any other people in this fucked up world who know just how bad Kate truly is, it’s them.”

A guilty feeling settles itself at the bottom of Stiles’ stomach at that, “So they’re risking their lives for us… literally…”

“Yes,” Derek whispers solemnly, his eyes darkened by a pain that is familiar to him, “Yes they are…”

“When we run into Kate, because it’s going to happen eventually,” Stiles hisses out, his voice low with rage and scratchy with hurt, “we’re going to make sure that she gets what she deserves… for hurting you and your family, for hurting the pack, for wanting to hurt our baby… We’re going to make her pay, got it?”

Derek hums angrily in agreement, his knuckles popping as he flexes them over the wheel, “You didn’t even have to ask.”

Stiles is stepping out of the shower when he hears it — Derek’s cell ringing.

It’s the one that he and the pack set aside just in case Kate reared her ugly head again, meaning that it could be Erica or Boyd of Jackson—

Stiles rushes to dry off as best as he can before he quickly brandishes his enormous towel like a robe, draping it over himself as he rushes out into the main room where Derek’s conversation is already rumbling through the once quiet air. The omega rushes into the room, nearly bumping into Derek with his baby bump as the alpha rubs at his forehead and sits back in his chair. He looks stressed, and he’s certainly not sounding pleased, either—

“Look, I didn’t want you guys to do this. Just, if need be, stop and rest for a while,” Derek pauses, and there’s something said over the line, making Derek scowl harder, “Jackson, you two need to rest, especially so you can get it out of your system. If Kate gets a hold of you guys while your systems are repressed, then—“ Derek doesn’t finish the sentence, but rather, sighs and goes on, “Sleep and take care of yourselves… I don’t want anyone else dying for me.”

The call ends after a few short quips and exaggerated sighs, but Derek hangs up a few moments later and pivots enough to see Stiles standing there. He knows he must look ridiculous, because his hair is still dripping wet and matted down with the weight of the water, and he’s snuggling into this ginormous towel that probably makes him look like a pregnant cotton ball at best.

“Are they okay?”

Derek exhales softly this time, “They nearly got caught by some of Kate’s goons, but they took care of it and have been ordered to take it easy for a bit. Now, sit down on the bed before you make a puddle and slip on it, Stiles.”

The omega glares as the alpha stands and begins to move past him, “What do you mean, ‘they took care of it?’ Does Kate know—“

“No, it was just a close call, Stiles. Now, sit on the bed, please,” he orders gently, and it’s enough to make Stiles listen.

He shivers at how cold his head feels while Derek disappears into the bathroom, only to reemerge seconds later with a much smaller towel than the one drawing Stiles’ larger, baby-heavy form. They don’t say anything to one another, but Stiles’ breath catches in his throat as the alpha kneels down and begins to dry his hair off carefully.

Derek’s fingers don’t run through his hair as he smoothly rubs the soaked lengths of Stiles’ hair, and it’s obvious that he’s trying to keep skin contact to the bare minimum as he dries the omega’s mop of waterlogged locks. It feels so nice — so careful — that Stiles ends up letting his eyes slip shut a little, leaning into Derek’s hands as they message his scalp with the towel.

“It’s grown a bit since I first saw you,” Derek murmurs, sweeping the cloth against the back of Stiles’ ear gingerly, “It looks better on you.”

“T-Thanks…”

Derek hums once — a short, pleased sound — as he continues his ministrations with Stiles’ hair, “You know, if it weren’t for me, you’d catch pneumonia.”

“I was in a rush to get out here,” Stiles mutters defensively, “I wanted to know if the pack was okay.”

“They’re okay,” the werewolf reassures him, “We’re okay.”

Stiles opens his eyes at that statement, and he finds Derek’s gaze already locked onto his own — as if he’d been waiting for Stiles to look at him, “Derek?”

He shushes Stiles gently, his hands slipping to the omega’s tensed shoulders, “Just relax, Stiles. Stop worrying about Kate and the pack for just five minutes.”

“But—“

“Stiles,” he asserts softly.

Stiles huffs crossly, but he gives in, knowing that this stress and paranoia he’s been carrying surely hasn’t been good for the baby whatsoever. He ends up begrudgingly letting Derek’s hands — still covered in the damp towel — work out the kinks in his shoulders.

“That’s—“ Stiles’ eyes slip closed again, and he groans softly as he feels his shoulders slumping with relief, “I didn’t know how tense I was…”

“Well I did, and I’m taking care of it now.”

Stiles peeks through a slit in his eye to see Derek’s veins blackening.

“Dude, you’re doing the pain sucky thing again, aren’t you?”

“Very observant, you are,” the werewolf commends.

Stiles snorts but keeps stretching into Derek’s relieving fingertips, “Well, keep doing it. Shit feels absolutely amazing.”

That makes Derek chuckle softly, but he doesn’t say anything else.

They spend the next ten minutes like that, with Derek rubbing away Stiles’ tension and worries, leaving the omega feeling like moldable putty underneath his hands. The relief of it all is overwhelming, like Derek cut off these ankle weights dragging Stiles down, and now he can finally feel what it’s like to be twenty pounds and an impending panic attack lighter.

Stiles ends up yawning, and Derek accommodates the change accordingly. He leaves Stiles alone for a second — making the omega whine slightly at the loss of the magical sensation that was Derek’s pain-absorbing massage abilities — only to come back with what feels like a pair of Stiles’ soft maternity pajamas.

“Lift your arms up,” Derek instructs quietly, and Stiles obeys, feeling his loose tee get slipped over his head and over the length of his numb arms, “Now stand up.”

If Stiles hadn’t been out of his mind in hormones and also the calmness that Derek rubbed into his muscles, he would’ve said something about Derek dressing him — especially when nude — but the alpha makes no huge fuss or chance of it. He only slips Stiles’ pajama bottoms on and up onto his hips, and removes the towel from where it had accidentally gotten tucked in along the back of the waistband.

His voice is far away — like Stiles is already losing consciousness while standing there even, and he sighs as he pulls back the sheets and blanket from the omega’s bed, “Lie down and go to sleep, Stiles.”

And Stiles does.

They settle into a routine after that.

A hotel one night, and a new one the next. They talk while they drive — about things like the pack or even more baby names — and sometimes even joke around. Pee breaks are still a common happening, but Derek complains about them less and less, seemingly more at ease now that he and Stiles have found themselves wandering about the vast expanse of Mexico.

Sure, they have a few close run-ins with some very rude locals, but that was to be expected, especially when driving off the beaten path. And there was that one time where the baby didn’t like this cheese quesadilla Stiles had gotten and made him throw it up on the side of the road.

But other than that, the two have been functioning together just fine.

Stiles just doesn’t know what to make of that.

“Derek?”

“Yes, Stiles?”

The omega looks out of his window, and the unknown city passes by innocently enough as he looks about it, “What are we going to do when I’m about to pop this kid out?”

That apparently isn’t something Derek thought about, because he looks completely caught off guard with Stiles question, “Uh…”

“Well, it’s been about three weeks since we had to leave Beacon Hills again,” Stiles places a hand against his bump, noticing that his six month maternity shirts are starting to get a little tight and short on his bump, “and I’m kind of nearing the point where we should seriously start planning this shit out.”

“You’re right,” Derek grits out, “We should’ve talked about this sooner.”

Stiles shrugs, “Things get overlooked when you’re running for your life,” he pauses for a moment, “Do you think we could stop for a check-up somewhere?”

“I don’t think a minute clinic has an ultrasound machine just lying around…”

That makes the omega snort, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it… Maybe we could visit a doctor in one of the bigger cities and see how the little tyke is doing, if that’s okay.”

“That would certainly take some stress off our shoulders,” the alpha comments before nodding, “Alright, we’ll find some place to stop and get an ultrasound. After that, we’ll talk about a game plan for everything else.”

“Okay, good,” Stiles hums for a second, and then looks over to Derek, “You know, we could find the gender out while we’re there too.”

A spark of something lights up Derek’s face, only to simmer out a millisecond later, “Actually… I kind of like not knowing. It’s something that keeps me going, knowing that you could give me a son or daughter…”

“Do you have a preference?”

“Fuck no, they’re my kid. That’s hell of enough for me.”

Stiles laughs, and he pets his belly, “Hear that, baby? Dad says he’ll love you either way! Isn’t that awesome— ow!” Stiles winces as Derek looks over in concern, “Ugh, apparently they like that very much. My ribs don’t, though.”

Derek chuckles, “They’ve got a strong kick, then.”

“Makes me wonder if they’re human like me or a werewolf like you,” Stiles murmurs truthfully, caressing his stomach as he feels his kid thwack all of his other insides, “I never did find out at my last check-ups either.”

After a moment of consideration, Derek speaks, “Do you want to find out now?”

“Nah, I think I’m like you on that note,” Stiles grins and looks over to the alpha who’s fondly eying him, “I kinda want the surprise.”

“Well, we’ll ask the doctor to just tell us what vitamins you need and we’ll settle on that and a few pictures from the ultrasound, alright?”

Stiles’ lips hurt from how large his smile is then, “Alright.”

The doctor they get at the hospital thankfully speaks fluent English, and he’s more than happy with showing Stiles and Derek the gritty ultrasound picture of their child.

While Stiles is a veteran at these things by now and has seen his kind since it was barely a blip on the screen, this is the first time for Derek, meaning that his eyes are impossibly wide and his hand is nearly crushing Stiles’ when the image of his child comes into view. After a few seconds, his eyes turn glassy, and he has to look away before he officially cries, Stiles supposes. But instead of making fun of the alpha, Stiles rubs a thumb over his hand and tells him that it’s pretty overwhelming the first time.

The doctor doesn’t ask any personal questions, besides health-related ones, of course, and the pairing is grateful. He just does what he needs to, prints out three pictures of the ultrasound shot of their child, and tells Stiles the usual about staying hydrated and nourished. It’s a relief for him to be so helpful, and it makes it that much easier for Stiles to slide into the passenger seat and relax.

“Did you hear that, buddy?” Stiles coos towards his belly, “You’re all fine and dandy! Oh, and so gorgeous! Look at that face!” the omega is grinning at the screenshot of his child proudly, “You’re gonna be a heartthrob when you’re out in the world, I just know it!”

Stiles laughs and turns to look at Derek to have him join in, but when he sees the alpha’s face, his laughter dies down.

“D-Derek?”

His face is screwed up in a sad but happy expression, and a tear or two work their way down his cheeks as he grins like a broken man given glue — a purpose to put himself back together again — as he smiles at Stiles.

“Thank you,” he manages to get out, and he wipes at his face with one hand while the other grabs onto Stiles’ like in the examination room back in the office, “Thank you so much, Stiles…”

Stiles’s throat is tight when he swallows, “For what? …”

“For giving me this, for giving me a second chance at having a family again…” and Derek grins and leans over to the bump, his eyes still wet and bloodshot while his white teeth poke past his lips in a brilliant smile, “Hey there, little one… I finally got to see you for the first time today. Your daddy’s done a good job at keeping you healthy, and I’m so happy you’re growing to be big and strong just like he is.”

In response to Derek’s voice, their child kicks enthusiastically, nearly knocking Stiles breath away while Derek laughs and looks like he’s about to fall apart to be remade again right there in the driver’s seat.

“I know, I’m excited to meet you too,” the alpha murmurs, and he pulls back, taking a sharp inhale of air as he tightens his hand over Stiles’.

“Derek?”

The werewolf is crying now, and he’s got his bottom lip in between his teeth as he tries to keep himself from sobbing, and it all has Stiles feeling out of place and shocked.

“Kate said I’d never get to have this,” he whispers out shakily, and his grip on Stiles’ hand is tight, “She said she’d make sure that I’d never get to have a family again and I just— I’m so happy that she’s wrong.”

Stiles offers him a weak but genuine smile as he places both of their hands over their unborn child, “Me too.”

And for once, Derek doesn’t seem like he’s lost anymore.

They end up making a plan for when they baby will be officially on its way, and they consult with Jackson and Boyd about it, just in case.

Stiles, naturally, is nervous, but Derek is reassuring and calm, keeping Stiles from having a panic attack as he thinks about labor pains or all of the blood and—

“Six,” Derek says while he tosses away the remains of the hotdog Stiles just devoured into the trash.

Well, if there’s one thing they’ve learned about Stiles, it’s that he’s an anxious eater when it comes to discussing the inevitable process of childbirth he’s going to end up experiencing.

“Five,” Stiles echoes in response as he exhales deeply, wincing slightly in disgust as it smells of the hotdog and its condiments, “Four.”

Derek hums encouragements as he cryptically messages Jackson and Boyd about the arrangements, “Three.”

Stiles inhales slowly, “Two.”

“One second,” Derek murmurs, and he presses the accept button as his phone vibrates with a call, “Yes?”

Stiles can vaguely hear Erica yelling at her alpha through the phone, but he tries to focus more on leveling out his breathing than what she’s scolding Derek for. Still, if Derek’s exasperated sigh is anything to go by, it’s definitely something Erica is quite… passionate, about.

“Erica, please calm down,” Derek rubs at the bridge of his nose, “Everything is fine—“

“It’s not fine!” Stiles overhears her shouting on the line, “You get ultrasound pictures and don’t send me any!? What the hell is up with that!?”

Stiles snorts from off to the side, and Derek sends him a watered down glare for it, “It’s not like we can mail it to you.”

Erica groans through the phone, “Derek Hale, you can use your cell to at least send me a picture of it. I want to know what the pack baby looks like,” and then, Stiles hears his dad join in, “I’d like to see my grandkid, if that’s fine…”

“Dad?”

Derek wipes a hand down his face and seemingly gives up, “I believe Stiles would like to talk to his father now, Erica.”

The beta grumbles a bitter ‘whatever’ before Stiles’ dad comes through loud and clear, “Stiles?”

Derek hands the phone over to the omega, and Stiles lights up immediately, his panic having been forgotten, “Dad!”

“Hey kid,” his words are fond, “how are you and my grandbaby doin’?”

“Just fine, dad, but oh my god, I miss you so much.”

His father sighs in agreement, “Me too. It’s weird to be babied by someone else other than you,” and in the background he hears Erica squawk in offense.

“Well, for now, you’re going to have to work with it,” Stiles worries his bottom lip for a second, “Hey, dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“How— how did you know you were ready to be a parent?”

Derek’s head swivels to face Stiles from off to the side, but Stiles doesn’t have the heart to look at the alpha during this. He’s terrified, after all, and if anyone’s going to help settle these fears of becoming responsible for a tiny human being for the rest of its life, it’s going to be Stiles’ veteran of a parent.

“I—“ his father pauses for a moment, “Truth be told, Stiles, I don’t think I was ever really ready per say, but rather eager to try…”

That makes Stiles grimace, “What do you mean?”

“Kid, they never tell you this, but there’s never a sure fire way to be ready to be a parent. Yeah, you can read the parenting books or take classes in child nourishment or something, but you’re never truly going to know what to or what’s going to be needed from you until you actually have that little one crying for your help in your arms…” his dad takes a deep breath, “Your mother and I were so stressed that we were going to mess up with you. We thought that, surely, we’d make a mistake and you’d come out wrong and you’d be affected by our negligence, accidental or not, for the rest of your life, but that’s not how it worked out… Sure, your mom was sick and now she’s gone, and I’m not that much better off myself, but hell, Stiles, I look at you now and I think, ‘despite all that worryin’, we did a pretty good job’.”

A tear slips down Stiles’ cheek, “Dad…”

“You’re not necessarily going to be a pro at being a parent, but I know you’re not going to be a bad one, either. I also understand that some circumstances are exceedingly different with you, and there’s going to be a hell of a lot more bulk on your shoulders to make sure your kid grows up like you need ‘em to, but I have no doubts that you’ll find your know-how one way or another.”

For a moment, Stiles inhales to gather himself, “T-Thanks, dad…”

His father chuckles softly, “Don’t mention it, kid… So… how are things?”

“As best as they can be, considering… Derek and I went to a clinic yesterday and did an ultrasound.”

“So I’ve heard. Everything okay?”

Stiles smiles, despite knowing his dad won’t see it, “Yeah, everything’s fine. The doctor said that they were healthy.”

There’s a pause, “They? You mean you still haven’t found out the gender yet?”

“Derek and I want it to be a surprise,” Stiles snickers for a short millisecond, almost like a snorted laugh, “In fact, we saved its species to be a surprise, too. We’re gonna get double whammied when they’re finally born.”

“Hm, I guess that means it’s best to wait on getting things ahead of time, then, just in case,” his father murmurs.

“Any gift will be used and appreciated. Honestly, I think our baby will look absolutely adorable in any color. No gender-color stereotypes will stop them from being the cutest.”

His dad laughs, “Your mother felt the same way with you, even though we knew you were a boy before you were born. And you know what? She was right.”

“Well, if I know anything, it’s that I must’ve gotten that gene from her, because I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” Stiles grins and looks over to Derek, finding that he’s staring at Stiles with this odd twinkle in his eye, “Uh, well, I guess there’s not much else I can say now… I mean, I don’t want to divulge what we’re planning on entirely, just in case, but— . . . I love you, dad.”

“Love you too, kid. Make sure Hale stays in line, or else I’m gonna put him back in his place.”

“Wouldn’t imagine you doing anything else, dad,” and he says goodbye, and the call ends.

He looks over to Derek who’s still ogling at him intensely, his brow only slightly scrunched as he watches the omega set the phone beside him. Stiles takes a deep breath and meets his unwavering gaze.

“I don’t have mustard from that hotdog on my mouth, do I?” Stiles jokes.

“No,” Derek states easily, but he doesn’t say anything else or blink, even.

The omega’s gaze wanders for a few seconds, and he shimmies a little, feeling uncomfortable, “Uh, care to tell me why you’ve got some crazy eyes going, then?”

“Because I’m currently trying to understand you.”

“That’s helpful,” Stiles grimaces.

The reply makes Derek rolls his eyes lightly, thankfully breaking his staring contest with Stiles’ face, “I’m serious, though… You’re— you’re confusing.”

“Oh, and how so?”

“Nothing, just,” Derek takes in a deep breath, “I’m trying to figure out why we’re here right now.”

Now that one’s a no-brainer, “Uh, dude? Kate’s after us?”

“No, it’s not that, Stiles,” Derek grits out, but he isn’t looking at the omega anymore, but instead, his hands to where they’re bunching his jeans over his knees in tight fistfuls, “I’m talking about here— as in asking your dad about being ready to become a parent when you never had to commit like that…”

With a scowl, Stiles asks, “What do you mean?”

“You could’ve gotten out of this, Stiles. You could’ve gotten an abortion or something else, but you wouldn’t have to be here. You knew the dangers of keeping the baby, but despite all that, you kept it anyways— and now, you’re ready to be its parent? Even when it might get you killed indirectly?”

“Uh, when did this start bothering you?” the omega laughs without the humor, “I mean, you were the one who recommended getting an—“

“I know what I said,” Derek hisses, his hands leaving his knees to gesture angrily, “I know that I told you to get rid of it and get on with your life. I told you that because it made sense— it made everything easier— “

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Stiles growls out, “You’re getting mad about this now? Dude, it’s a little late, man, especially when I thought we were supposed to honor that agreement we made.”

Derek deflates instantly — as though he were a puppet and his strings had been cut — and he puts his face into his hands, making Stiles lose a little of his own spark in sympathy, “Stiles, you have to understand… You— you never had to do any of this. You never had to go through with carrying my baby and putting your entire livelihood and existence in danger of getting lost. But you did. You decided against anything seemingly rational, and now the baby is due here in only a matter of a month or two, at the very least. I— I was an ass, I know, but I was an ass for the right reasons, just— the execution is what sucked… I should’ve gone about it differently, I should’ve asked you to do something else or— … but it’s too late for that now… You just have to understand that I feel like shit for forcing this onto you…”

“You didn’t force me into anything.”

Derek looks up at Stiles then, the rims of his eyes red and watery, “Didn’t I, though? I mean, I lost control and knotted you while you were in heat and—“ Derek growls and his eyes flash red, and he grips roughly at his hair, as though he wasn’t trying to lose his mind from the regret he felt, “I fucked up everything, Stiles… and you paid the price for it, in more ways than just this…”

Stiles swallows and moves over to Derek, and he leans onto the alpha while he stares at the wall in front of them both, “Derek, while I understand that you didn’t come about it in the best way, I still made the decision to sleep with you. This baby was a fifty-fifty effort, and we both are accountable for it. Sure, I guess it would’ve made sense with everything that I was told that calling it quits would’ve been easier, but—“ Stiles’ right hand comes up and rubs his middle, “I’ve always wanted a family, I guess… Even as a child I wanted a family, and maybe that’s because I never really had one in the first place, but it didn’t change the fact that I desired having the white picket fences and the two-point-five kid thing.”

Derek perks up, but only a little.

“There could’ve be a lot of different ways to do this— more traditional and surely safer and less murderous ways— but in the end it still happened in this manner either way. I don’t regret the child, Derek, I just kind of regret how it became a thing.”

“Kind of?” Derek echoes in curiosity.

A soft blush warms Stiles’ cheeks, “Well, it’s not like I was complaining at the time…”

“Hm, I don’t think you were now that I remember,” Derek teases playfully, “I think it was more along the lines of begging—“

“Shut up,” Stiles takes the throw pillow off of the bed and thwacks the alpha with it lightly.

Derek laughs as he wipes at his eyes, and it’s a nice sound — a good sound — that leaves Stiles fuming in mortification and in a swarm of confliction while his cheeks burn hotly.

“You know I’m not trying to degrade you or anything,” Derek murmurs after his giggling has died off, and Stiles jumps when he feels Derek brushes a few misplaced strands of his hair back into place, “I respect you too much to ever do that.”

Stiles blinks and glances over to the werewolf, “You respect me?”

Derek nods, like this isn’t a big deal or a big thing to say, “It takes a lot of effort and perseverance to deal with an asshole like me and circumstances like this.”

“So you like my ability to cope, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, I’m saying that I like your ability to be the bigger person,” Derek commends softly, and he lets his fingers sweep themselves behind the shell of Stiles’, more than likely, flushed ear, “You really didn’t have to do any of this, but you did. You kept on going like nothing was going to change your mind, even when I was an asshole and everything seemed like it was going to end in tears. You still dealt with me, you still kept the baby… I don’t need any more proof to show me just how much of a bigger person you are than me.”

Stiles frowns a little at that, but doesn’t say anything in response.

The alpha sighs quietly and lets his hand fall away from Stiles’ face, “You should honestly never talk to me after the shit I pulled— after the shit I said. If you were to leave right now and never see me again, I can’t say as I blame you… But I want to do better, Stiles. I want to show you how sorry I am that I wasn’t able to step up to the plate like you did before now.”

“Wait— you’re willing to— to help me with this baby? Like, more than just keeping Kate from shanking me or something? Like actually watching them and changing dirty diapers at three in the morning while running on an hour of fitful sleep? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Absolutely,” Derek vows seriously.

A deep breath is needed to ground himself, but Stiles goes on after he’s able to make some sense of things, “Derek, I— I appreciate the thought and the sentiment, but… are you ready to be a parent?”

That catches the werewolf off guard, “Of course I am… What made you think otherwise?”

“Back in Beacon Hills, you used to, I dunno—“ Stiles waves his hands around in a vague gesture, “do this staring thing in the baby’s room… I’d find you in there when I couldn’t sleep or if I woke up, and you’d be sitting there on the floor holding something meant for the baby, and you’d just— just stare/i> at, like it was something foreign that you’ve never seen before…”

Derek’s eyes are wide, because Stiles is ninety-nine percent sure that he wasn’t supposed to and or wasn’t expected to know about this.

“Look, I get it. Parenthood is a scary thing, even when you do the deed intending to go into it, but we didn’t,” the omega laughs, but it’s weak and a little sad, “Fuck, we just threw ourselves into it. I understand if you’re scared or—“

“I’m terrified, honestly…”

Stiles closes his mouth and sees that Derek is looking at the floor again, his face set into a grimace.

The alpha exhales roughly and moves his gaze towards the ceiling, as though he was mentally questioning everything so far, “I’m terrified of being a father. I’m terrified of messing up, I’m terrified of Kate swooping in and destroying the little I have left,” Derek looks to Stiles, “I’m terrified of having a family only to lose it again.”

“I would be too, if I were in your shoes,” Stiles murmurs, and he grabs a hold of Derek’s hand — something he’s been doing a lot recently as he’s noticed, but the physical reassurance is comforting for both parties, so sue him if you think otherwise, “I wouldn’t want to get stuck in another situation like you were when you with Kate. Just the thought of someone using the baby as leverage against me, it—“ Stiles hand falters over his stomach, “it doesn’t matter if this time around, the baby’s real. In fact, if anything, it just makes it that much worse, because bad things can actually happen to it. I’m terrified about that myself…”

Derek squeezes Stiles’ fingers for a moment, “But we won’t let anything happen to them though, right?”

“Not if we can help it,” Stiles mutters determinedly, and he meets Derek’s gaze, “We might be terrified at heart, but I suppose any to-be-parent would.”

The alpha nods in agreement, and it feels like something else just settled between them.

Things are easier now since Derek and Stiles have somehow ended up on the same page. They don’t fight all that much anymore, and most of the time, their arguments are nothing but playful banter with a hint of flirtation — but, that last bit is more on Derek’s part than Stiles’.

After all, Derek did say that he’d respect Stiles’ wish to hold out on sex, and yeah, Stiles is still a little bitter about things even though he’s more hornier than he’s ever been in his entire life. Seriously — pregnancy hormones knock puberty and heats out of the water, and Stiles has to take care of himself in the bathroom most nights as he nears the seventh and a half month mark in his pregnancy.

So yeah, he’ll either die of sexual exhaustion, or Derek will from sexual frustration and a serious case of blue balls. But it’s so worth it, Stiles decides, because it’s the one thing he’s allowed to hold over Derek’s head now, and if anything, he’s hornier and hormonal than ever.

“You take breaks to masturbate more than you do to pee now,” Derek scolds in disappointment as Stiles shimmies awkwardly in his seat, his cock at half-mast as its tip teases at the hem of his tighter pair of sweats.

“I can’t help it, okay? I’m surprised it wasn’t more of a problem before,” Stiles snaps, but the tension is defused into another type when he whines as some slick seeps out of him and Derek growls under his breath in response, “I— I mean I’m around you more than I ever have been before this, and you’re my mate and the father of my unborn pup, so of course my body is going to get acclimated and amp up things.”

Derek takes shallow breaths as Stiles unintentionally fills up the cab of their hatchback with needy pheromones and the scent of slick, “Just— hold on until I can pull onto the shoulder of the road, okay?”

Stiles nods, but doesn’t trust opening his mouth as a strong wave of arousal hits him. God — he hasn’t even been thinking of anything remotely sexual in the past twenty-four hours, but his body apparently does not care for that factoid. It’s almost like Stiles has been thinking about getting knotted and fucked ruthlessly all day and—

Derek growls again as some more slick dampens Stiles’ maternity boxers, and okay, he should stop going down that line of thought until Derek gets the hatchback parked, at least.

“S-Sorry, I can’t—“ he squirms in his seat, feeling too hot and too constricted by his seatbelt and by the hug of his almost-too-small tee to be still, “I can’t control it right now…”

The alpha doesn’t respond, just rumbles with irritation as he pulls the car over and hastily shifts it into park before unbuckling and getting out.

This routine is very common for them as well, since Stiles has these episodes where the need to get off is immense and beyond his control numerous times throughout the day. It’s partly, like Stiles told Derek earlier, to do with the fact Derek is present and Stiles’ body recognizes that, coupling the need for Stiles to have sex with his mate with the need to have sex in general from his pregnancy. The omega hates it — hates that he’s torturing Derek, even if somewhat on purpose sometimes, by being in the same enclosed space when his hormones and scent go nuts.

But Derek’s been good — which is the problem. Well, not really, it’s just that Stiles feels like an ass for unintentionally teasing Derek with the scent of his slick and needy noises that slip out when they go over a pothole or something, because not once has Derek made an issue about it. Sure, he’s made a comment or two about it, but considering that he’s part wolf and instincts run high in alpha werewolves, he’s pretty damn good about keeping his knot in between his legs and giving Stiles the space he needs. So while Stiles does feel bad — he does, regrettably so — the omega is just too desperate and out of his mind with need to hold off from getting off to save Derek more trouble. Besides, the alpha is aware that Stiles doesn’t really do this on purpose, that it’s his baby and the way it’s changed Stiles’ body and its chemistry at fault.

It’s why Derek gives Stiles breathing and, in this case specifically, “beating” room. He stands outside the car, checking the wheels or fucking around with something out there to occupy his time, Stiles wouldn’t know. He’s too busy rubbing his dick to notice anything, really.

He lets out a long, lewd moan — the sound surely loud enough that it’s the reason Derek accidentally bumps into the car and curses something outside — when his fingers slip over the tip of his now fully erect and flushed cock. His bump weighs down on his middle, and it’s big enough now that Stiles has to avidly work around his own girth to be able to grip his own dick that he can’t even see anymore. But it doesn’t matter — no, not when his hands, callouses from messing with camera buttons and all, feel so amazing against the sensitive, engorged flesh below. His other hand, the one not busy palming his cock, slips down to his hole where it’s slick and wet and loose and—

A shrill cry escapes Stiles as his fingers breach through easy, as if his body is so ready for a knotting at the moment that it’s made him loose enough to skip prepping entirely. Outside, there’s a responding curse yet again, and also frantic speaking as Derek’s muffled voice fades slightly with added distance.

He must be on the phone with the pack, Stiles supposes, but his fingers and his hand feel far too good at the moment for him to care about that right now. Instead, he angles himself as best as he can. He’s just so big now — so weighed down by the baby — that he can’t actually ride his fingers like he wants. Trust him, he’s definitely tried more than once, but it just leaves him sore, sweatier, and hornier than we he started. So he braces himself against the passenger door instead, maneuvering his back to where it’s easier for him to lean and use it for leverage to take away part of the strain.

Of course, it’s better when he’s got access to a detachable showerhead, but he’s horny now, and beggars can’t be choosers.

Derek’s voice is still perceptible enough to settle any doubts of him running off, but it’s obvious that there’s a discomfited tone to his words as he rambles on unintelligibly. Whatever — it’s not like Stiles is embarrassed about this. It’s not like this is the first time Derek’s had to pull over and let Stiles take care of his needs in the passenger seat. It’s not like he really cares by then, anyways.

Either way, it doesn’t matter in general currently, because Stiles’ body is apparently super amped up about this today, and it only takes a few combined thrusts of his fingers and slides of his roughened palm before Stiles is coming all over his bump. Despite being short-lived and seemingly effortless, it’s one of the best orgasms that Stiles has ever had. Fuck — it’s a contender for when Derek knotted him that night, that’s how good it is.

Humming contently, Stiles hazily takes a few baby wipes and sponges up what he can, considering that most of the bodily fluids in this session are on his shirt or in his boxers. He scrimmages around in the backseat for a moment, his clean clothes still folded inside of the bag they’d bought at the laundry mat a day ago while he fishes a shirt and other items out of it.

There’s not much space in the cab of the hatchback, even less so with Stiles’ belly getting in the way, but he makes it work. If anything this whole hormonal jack off craze has taught him, it’s to be creative where it counts. So he manages to redress without much issue, but frowns when he notices that his six month shirts are starting to ride up a few centimeters to maybe an inch or so now. He knows it’s because he’s a month-and-a-half ahead of what they were designed to cover, but damn, it still makes him feel like a blimp.

He grimaces and throws the shirt into the backseat with an irritated huff, and he goes angrily digging through for one of his more “time appropriate” shirts. And, of course, that’s what Derek comes back to — Stiles completely shirtless and cursing when he can’t find the one Spiderman tee that Wal—Mart had when he went shopping for this stuff initially.

He knocks on the glass once, but Stiles is too infuriated to care about the alpha while his hands snake past the shirts he doesn’t want to wear. Hell, they probably wouldn’t fit, anyway.

“Stiles?”

Fuck — he hadn’t even realized Derek had opened the door, and he jumps slightly before gritting his teeth together, “What, Derek?” he snaps.

The werewolf is taken aback by the combative attitude for only a second before he realizes that Stiles is having one of his post-orgasmic fits. While they aren’t always hand in hand with Stiles’ other episodes, it’s common enough for Derek to just write it off as Stiles being horny-and-pissed yet again.

“The pack wanted to check in,” he says casually, like the stink of sex and rage isn’t permeating the air in a heady mixture, “They said hi.”

“Oh, are they sending us a fucking postcard, too?” Stiles growls — and it only makes him angrier that it’s not as vicious as Derek’s is, fucking werewolf asshole.

The alpha sighs but settles himself against the car, and it says something when he’s so acclimated to Stiles’ pregnancy hormone tantrums, “No, they aren’t. That would require us having an address to send it to which—”

“Which we can’t have because we’ll get murdered otherwise!” the omega finishes with a forced tone of happiness, “It’s just fucking great, Derek! I love living inside of a car, especially when I’m close to being eight months pregnant! It’s astoundingly great!”

“I know you want to have a place to settle, but—“

Stiles makes a noise that’s a cross between frustrated and enraged as he gives up on finding his Spiderman shirt, and he turns to Derek to where he’s leaning down by the car door to talk to Stiles, “Oh, fucking save it, will you? I’m fucking tired of our ‘house’ being on four wheels. Hell, a trailer home would be better than this, because at least then, there’s an exceptional amount of space compared to this damn thing!”

“Stiles—“

“I don’t want to hear it! I have to wait an entire month-and-a-half and maybe even more before I can look forward to having to suffer the Hell that is the vagrant life with my child in the fucking backseat!” he hisses, “I’m so happy that the car hood will double for a changing table, Derek! So fucking happy!”

Derek presses his lips together tightly, there only being a hint of anger on his features to let Stiles know he’s done it — he’s hit some personal string of Derek’s or something and—

“Dear god, if you tell me some bullshit reason as to why we can make it in this car, especially after the baby is born, I’m going to fucking throttle you, pregnant or not.”

“I was going to say you were right, but you always like to jump to conclusions when you’re pissy,” Derek bites back, but he lets out a tense breath before continuing placidly, “Look, I hate living out of this car just as much as you do, but we need to bounce around a little more until things are a little bit more settled.”

Stiles snorts in disbelief, “And when will that be? When I’m popping out the baby?”

“No, but— maybe around that time,” Derek murmurs, and Stiles is about to snap yet again when the alpha quickly adds, “But we’re going to be back in the US again by then. I just don’t want to put ourselves on the radar for Kate too early.”

Stiles loses his own fire, knowing what Derek means.

They had agreed that they’d use their actual identities for when they went to the hospital to have the baby get delivered. It meant that Stiles’ name especially would be pegged — as though he were lighting a torch in the middle of the black void of a cavern — for Kate to find. Derek’s too, but only once the birth certificate is made with their names listed as the birth parents. They knew that it’s risky as hell to do, but this is one official document that they don’t want to fake whatsoever, Kate getting a solid paper trail be damned.

“I promise that we won’t keep going like this forever, Stiles, but we have to keep going, just for a little bit longer until we drop that bomb, okay?”

Stiles nods, his anger given way to an unhappy understanding, “Yeah yeah, okay, I get it… I can deal with this for a little longer… Now, help me find my stupid shirt before I explode again.”

The alpha snorts, but goes to help the omega scour the backseat and its contents.

Stiles doesn’t know how they manage it — with the constant driving around and stops for both of Stiles’ types of breaks — only to stay in a hotel one night and another within the next. Again, Stiles begins blaming his pregnancy hormones, but he ends up asking Derek if he can go look at baby items and other things they’ll need in the close future when they come across a strip mall or something. Of course, the alpha seems almost prideful as Stiles meanders about the aisles in the occasional store they find, and he’s even smugger by the time they leave with a new set of socks or another toy for teething in case their child can sprout out fangs if it’s a werewolf. Not only that, the asshole is content whenever Stiles begins to sort of nest — meaning that he’ll go out of the way to make a space for himself in their hotel room by swarming himself with things that smell of himself and Derek.

It’s a step at a time thing. At least with Stiles it is, because he knows that a nesting omega is a sign that he’s about done baking his little bun in the oven.

He just doesn’t know if he’s okay with that or not yet.

“I’m fucking ready to pop this baby out, oh my god,” Stiles moans in agony, and he’s fanning himself in his passenger seat as Derek tries to cool him off, “Seriously, like— pregnancy hot flashes are a thing? What the fuck?”

“It’s not that,” Derek hisses in criticism, “You overworked yourself by trying to walk around in a hundred-degree weather with a black t-shirt on.”

Stiles huffs crossly, “Well I need to get some walking, and maybe in this case waddling in,” Stiles pokes a finger at his baby bulge, “Don’t you see, Derek? M’huge now! I have trouble bending over and sitting up, and it’s fucking ridiculous! My shirts that I’m supposed to wear for eight months are snug and I’ve only just reached that milestone a week ago, dude! I’m a month bigger than what I’m supposed to be!”

Derek grits his teeth together, “Maybe that’s because you insist on buying larger-sized graphic tees instead of actual maternity clothes—“

“I will get to express myself, huge baby gut or not,” Stiles points a finger at the alpha while he growls in defense, only to thunk his head against the headrest as he sweats profusely, “It’s not my fault that they only make the cool designs for the smaller omegas,” he whines pitifully, “They don’t like to make anything awesome for blimps because it’ll take up my advertisement space…”

That actually makes Derek snort, but when Stiles pins him with a hostile glare, the alpha quickly loses his smirk and clears his throat to correct himself accordingly, “Uh, you’re— you’re not a blimp, Stiles.”

“Yes I am!” the omega caterwauls in utter despair, making the werewolf beside him sigh in defeat, “I’m so big now that I can’t even see my toes! I can’t even reach them anymore, okay!? How am I supposed to get the little piggies home if I can’t wiggle them where they’re supposed to go!?”

“Stiles, you need to—“ Derek pauses to take a deep breath as he notices the crocodile tears rolling down Stiles’ cheeks, “Stop crying, Stiles. Please…”

Stiles shakes his head like a two-year-old having an uncooperative fit, “I can’t, Derek. These— these fucking hormones, man! I feel like I’m losing my mind because of them! I mean, one second I’m laughing at a semi-truck for no reason, and then the next, I’m bawling my eyes out because I think of how many bugs it’s hit while crisscrossing the country! What even is that, Derek!?”

“Well, I think one question about our baby is answered. There’s really only one reason your hormones are so strong and juxtaposing like this.”

Stiles sniffles as the alpha wipes away some of his tears with his thumb, “W-What’s that?”

“I was the eldest child in my family, which meant I have a lot of memories of my mom being pregnant throughout my childhood. She used to flip like a switch just like you do now.”

“I don’t understand,” Stiles whimpers.

“Stiles, my whole family was made of werewolves,” Derek waits a moment, and after Stiles gives no sign of any understanding, he adds, “My mom was always pregnant with a werewolf, Stiles.”

Stiles nods, “O-Oh…”

“Yeah,” the alpha murmurs quietly, “She was calm when she wasn’t expecting, but when she was? …” Derek’s eyes widen at his memory, and he shakes his head, “She’d give you a run for your money.”

Stiles takes a deep breath and looks down to his large bump, “Hear that? Dad says you’re a werewolf just like him.”

There’s a harsh kick, and Derek gets a vulnerable look on his face, “C-Can I?”

“Sure.”

Derek slips his palm over Stiles’ belly, and he swallows nervously before speaking, “H-Hey, it’s your dad… I, uh, I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, but I have a good feeling about this one. I’ll love you either way, though, so if you come out like your daddy, I won’t have any hard feelings.”

Another kick pushes against Derek’s palm, and his eyes are so wide that Stiles can’t help but chuckle at him, “You okay?” he asks softly.

“Y-Yeah, it’s just—“ Derek takes a deep inhale and zeroes his gaze in on his hand, “it’s been a while since I’ve done this…”

Stiles hums, “Huh, it has… I think I was only around four or five months, then.”

“Their kick’s gotten stronger,” a soft smile stretches Derek’s lips, “I’m pretty sure they’re a werewolf.”

“Figures,” Stiles snorts, “An alpha werewolf father equals a werewolf baby, usually.”

“That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

Stiles shakes his head, “Nah, man. I’m not prejudice against my baby. I’ve loved them since I found out I was pregnant with ‘em. Nothing’s going to change that now.”

Derek nods as he presses his lips together until he unfurls them a second later, “Thank you, Stiles…”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because I mean it,” his words are sincere while his gaze locks onto Stiles’, “I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you were willing to do any of this— willing to even deal with me again… I can’t thank you enough for it.”

“Then don’t,” Stiles murmurs back, “I know that you’re grateful. No need to beat around the bush forever about it.”

With a gentle exhale, Derek lets his hand drop away from Stiles’ middle, “But I feel like I’m taking this for granted, otherwise. That I haven’t changed or that I’m trying to change if I don’t start acknowledging this first.”

Before he speaks, Stiles grabs Derek’s hand back, and he puts it over the bump again, “I know you’ve been trying to change— that you’ve been trying to do things differently. A few months ago I wouldn’t put it past you to ditch me if Kate caught on then, but now— . . . Now you’re going out of your way to protect me and the baby. That right there is enough for me to realize that you might be using the same game piece, but you’re trying to play and entirely different game.”

“And that is?” the alpha inquires carefully, his gaze holding something that seems hesitant when it comes to Stiles’ answer.

“I don’t know. You’ve— maybe before I could’ve told you what that would be, but things have become different since then. I used to know how you thought and how you acted because I had some good examples of the kind of person you were,” that makes Derek wince lightly, “but you’re not that kind of person anymore.”

Hope fills Derek’s eyes, “Really?”

“Yes, really. You’re kinder now, more considerate. If it had been like this earlier, I’m sure you would’ve tucked tail and run.”

“More than likely, yeah,” Derek agrees before becoming serious, “But I’m not going to do that now,” he squeezes Stiles’ hand as it rests over their unborn child, “I’m not going to abandon either of you again.”

Stiles smiles tenderly and tightens his fingers around Derek’s overlapping palm, “I know. We’re in this together till the end.”

“Till the end,” Derek echoes in earnest.

The last few weeks and month of Stiles’ pregnancy fly by in a blur of various motel rooms and an innumerable amount of side trips for both Stiles’ “business” and shopping time. In the end though, Stiles feels and looks like he’s about to go into labor at any second, meaning that Derek is constantly alert or sleeping with one eye open when he isn’t driving in circles. You see, they’ve been near the border back into the US for some time now, lingering in the safety Mexico offers before they return to take Stiles to the hospital to have the baby.

“Let’s aim for Florida,” Stiles hums as Derek finally feels like it’s time to finally start heading back, “Hopefully my water won’t break until then.”

“We can only hope,” Derek murmurs in agreement, because of course he’s nervous — which he should be, “but sure… Florida sounds like a good option. It may mean that Kate will take a while to get there from North Dakota.”

The omega stretches a little in his seat as he remembers how the pack updated them last night on the mad woman’s location, but currently, he can’t help but feel extremely bloated and done with being pregnant, “I’m ready for it to be over, you know? Like, I wanna get this baby out now, Kate or not be damned.”

Derek growls at the reminder of the nightmarish woman, “You should be more worried about this and especially about her.”

“For someone who’s reiterated the need for me to be relaxed for the past few months, you sure wanna give me a stress-induced aneurysm right at the tail end of my pregnancy,” Stiles jokes only to add, “Look, Derek, I’ve been expecting for nine months plus a few extra days, and I’m chill as hell with the fact that time is up. Blame it on my instincts or whatever, but if this kid comes now, I’d be okay with it.”

The werewolf huffs, “Don’t say that, you might just jinx yourself. At least wait until we’re back in the States to lay on the bad karma.”

“It’s all about the good vibes,” Stiles laughs for a moment, “but will do, Captain. Just try to remember though, this baby is on its own schedule. Anything I do or say cannot be held against me in the time of labor.”

If Derek weren’t driving, Stiles is sure he’d face palm.

The border checkpoint is uneventful.

Derek is tense during the whole thing, explaining that his job offer didn’t work out and he and Stiles are coming back to fall back at where they started. Sure, there’s more comments made about the pictures in Stiles’ camera, but the omega could care less.

He just wants to deliver their baby — fuck everything and everyone else.

They make it into Florida without much issue, thankfully. Stiles is still cranky, despite the fact that the whole “driving everywhere and hopping from place to place” thing is over. Derek blames his foul mood on the fact he’s close to his own “D-Day” and stuck in hot, muggy Hell weather.

Still, getting to finally sit on the beach for a little bit makes up for some of it — just some of it.

“There’s a big storm brewing up,” Derek comments as he sits down beside Stiles on their fold out chairs, and they look over to where there’s a mass of dark, gray clouds miles off shore, “Considering distance and other things, I’d say it’s several hours or even more out.”

“Figures that it’d storm badly on our second day here,” Stiles bites out grumpily, “I only just started working on my tan.”

The alpha huffs and knocks some sand off his feet, “More like a sunburn, honestly.”

“Do not invoke my wrath, young one,” the omega points a finger at the werewolf as he lays out on his chair, “I may be heavily pregnant at the moment, but I will whoop your ass.”

Derek snorts as though it were a nonverbal “oh yeah?” — a taunting that, if Stiles weren’t so comfortable and sluggish in the heat of the seaside sun, he’d definitely take him up on. Now though, he’s much more obliged to stretch and laze for the first time in months. Apparently Derek is on the same page — or pretty close to it — because he makes a content noise as he stretches out beside Stiles, storm brewing in the distance be damned.

“You know, you look pretty weightless right now,” Stiles murmurs, the salty breeze picking up a little and making the umbrellas around them flap wildly, “I’m glad that there’s less stuff to carry on your shoulders.”

“I’m still worried, but I decided that I’ll enjoy this as much as I can… I’m sure that soon enough we’ll have to leave paradise and go back to Hell.”

Stiles pouts at the reminder, “Thanks for damning us, asshole…”

“We’re past the border and where we need to be now, so it’s fine to be a pessimist. I mean, it’s not like the baby is going to decide to pop out in the next second or anything…”

“Well, yeah, I mean that’d be awk— . . .” Stiles pauses as he feels his shorts dampen dramatically, meaning only one thing, “Oh my god, Derek—“

Derek hums as he closes his eyes, his arms crossed behind his head casually, “What, Stiles? Is it something about keeping ‘good vibes’ again?”

“I— I think you jinxed me,” he shakily states as he stiffens, the wet feeling of his shorts the most frightening sensation he’s ever experienced, “because my water legit just broke…”

Derek is upright in milliseconds, and he looks to see Stiles petrified and trembling, “Are— are you serious?”

“Yes I’m fucking serious!” Stiles hisses lowly, and he’s grateful that he brought his towel from their room here, “I— We need to get to the hospital, Derek—“

“Shit,” the alpha curses, and he rushes around Stiles to gather the few things that they brought in his arms, “Uh, can you stand or—“

“I may be in labor now, but I’m not totally invalid . . . yet.”

Derek is a nervous wreck as they quickly head back to the room, and Stiles isn’t that much better off himself — still, they’re prepared for this somewhat, just not in the mental sense, apparently. That’s why, forgoing the fact that they’re panicking, everything is already in place for them to check out and go.

Of course, before they leave, Stiles tells Derek that — labor or not — he’s changing into something dry and clean. Derek doesn’t put up much a protest, and he runs to the front office to handle the affairs up there. Still, it means that Stiles is alone when the first contraction hits, and holy mother of—

“Jesus,” Stiles grips the counter of the sink in the bathroom, having to breathe deeply as the first wave of sharp pain roils through his abdomen, “and this is supposed to g-get worse?”

He hangs his head, panting as he hears Derek enter the room again.

“Stiles?” Derek is by his side in an instant, “Stiles, are you okay?”

“F—Fine,” the omega gasps for a second, his fingers popping with strain as they strongly contract from their tightened grip on the edge of the counter, “M’just in a little pain currently…”

Derek whines in sympathy, and he places a hand at the small of Stiles’ back, “Do you need me to take some of it for you?”

“No,” Stiles asserts gently, “It may be complete agony, but it’s something I’m supposed to be feeling. Let’s— let’s not mess with it, okay?”

“Okay…” Derek murmurs, and he finishes pulling Stiles’ shirt down from where he was forced to stop working it over his head somewhere around his shoulders, “Think you’re good enough to walk?”

Stiles nods, and he straightens up as best as he can, “Y-Yeah, just— help me a little, but don’t carry me… I’m not at the point of no return.”

“You kinda are—”

“Save it,” the omega growls as he loops one arm around Derek’s lowered shoulders.

They manage to do a weird cross between a waddle and shuffle to the hatchback without issue, but it isn’t until they get to the car when another contraction makes Stiles halt completely. Instead of it being the countertop, Stiles’ hand now grips on the handle of the car door and just of the dashboard to steady himself through the sharp pain.

“It’s not too bad, is it?”

Stiles shakes his head, “No, it’s— it’s enough to make you stop and think for a moment and not much else, but it’s obviously going to get worse in the future… For right now it kind of feels like I’m super sore and I’ve moved wrong.”

“Having you started timing them?”

“B—Been too busy feeling them,” the words are gritted out past the human’s clenched teeth, “Just get in the fucking driver’s seat and stop looming over me… I don’t want to be in the parking lot when the baby’s supposed to come…”

That knocks Derek back into reality, and he jogs over to the opposite side of the car and gets into his seat. He has to wait a moment though, because Stiles is still breathing through the sore remnants of his last contraction rather than being in the car.

After a few minutes, Stiles is able to buckle himself up and shut the door, and no sooner than he does so, Derek is peeling out of the parking lot and towards the hospital they picked the night they’d arrived in Florida. They’re in Destin right now, but the hospital is in Orlando, meaning that they’ve got a bit of a drive ahead.

Fuck— remind Stiles why they picked this one again? Was it the high obstetrics ratings? The view? Either way it doesn’t matter because holy shit how can he manage a six hour drive while in labor? Oh god, they never even chose a name—

“Names,” Stiles blurts loudly, his breathing picking up, “We— we never picked out names, Derek…”

“Shit!” the alpha scowls harshly as he hits the gas and passes a slower car like he’s starring in a Fast and Furious movie right then, “Uh— do you have the list?”

Stiles nods, jerkily reaching for the pad of paper and pen that’s been sitting there for what feels like eons ago, “Yeah, it’s right here.”

With another abrupt lane change, Derek’s eyebrows pinch themselves together tightly, “What do we have so far for each gender?”

“Um, for a boy we have Dean, Sam, Kevin— but I feel like those are all too generic and common… I’m leaning more towards the lesser of the evils, like Evan or something.”

Derek nods in approval, “That’s good enough. What about the girl list?”

Stiles licks his lips in anticipation, but he notices what’s wrong and he frowns, “All we have is Gwen.”

“Are you serious?” the alpha asks in disbelief.

“I know, our kid isn’t even born yet, and we’ve already failed as parents—“

Derek growls lowly, “Don’t say stuff like that…”

The reaction makes Stiles curious, despite everything going on, “Wait, you think you’re going to be a bad father?”

“I haven’t been a good mate or alpha, have I?” Derek seethes loathingly, “Wouldn’t be a surprised if I fucked this one up, too…”

“Hey! Don’t say shit like that! You’re going to be a good dad, I know it.”

His words seem to have the desired effect on the werewolf, “You— you do? . . . “

“Yes, I do. I really do. Already you’ve done so much for me and the baby— you’ve changed for us, sacrificed for us… Sure, you weren’t sunshine and rainbows in the beginning, but I think you’ve done a pretty good job at getting rid of that overcast.”

“Nice weather metaphor, but— . . . thanks, Stiles. Really…”

Stiles shrugs and takes a deep breath, “It’s what I’m here for man… Anyways, about the names, I was thinking we do an on-the-spot kind of thing… Like we look at them and name them the first thing that comes to mind.”

“That doesn’t sound hopeful, but okay.”

“Screw you, I’m full of—“ another contraction hits and steals Stiles’ ability to say anything for a moment, “Ugh, I’m full of pain, never mind…”

Derek swallows uneasily as he drives, “Still good?”

Stiles nods haggardly, “Yeah, it hasn’t changed so far. Feels about the same as when it started… Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Well, either way, tell me when it gets to be too much. I’ll pull into the closest hospital necessary if you need me to.”

“Thanks,” Stiles grits out, and he goes back to pushing through the pain and going through yet another round of breathing exercises.

By the time they get to the hospital, Stiles’ contractions aren’t as far apart as they were, and they’ve definitely grown in their potency. It’s so bad that Stiles willingly lets the nurses put him in a wheelchair to bring him into the building. Derek, of course, is by his side as much as he can be, other than for the fact he moves the car and gets paperwork situated. Stiles almost feels like he’s got the shorter end of the stick for a moment — having to message the pack about everything, dealing with them and the nurses and doctors coming in and out like clockwork — until Stiles realizes that he’s about to deliver the fucking baby.

“Give me the good drugs,” he mumbles at the nurse as she hooks the IV’s up into his arm, the acute pinch of the needles nothing compared to the searing ache in his lower abdomen, “I don’t— I don’t wanna hurt through this…”

She gives Stiles a soft smile as she adjusts his drip, “No one does, sweetheart, but we’ll make sure that you and the baby are both comfortable. If you need anything, press the button with the head of the person with the red plus on it, okay? One of us will be here shortly to assist you in anything you need, within reasoning, of course.”

“Thank you nurse lady,” Stiles waves weakly as she departs, and he looks over to see Derek glaring at the screen of his phone, “Hey, Der… What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Kate already left North Dakota, despite all of Jackson and Boyd’s efforts. They’re on their way too, but— . . .”

“You’re worried,” Stiles finishes quietly.

Derek nods, “Hell yeah I am… I mean, I knew signing you into the hospital with your legal identity would be the straw that broke the camel’s back, but I had to and—“

“Hey man, it’s all okay,” Stiles stretches out an arm to the alpha as he smiles brightly, “I’m feelin’ purty good now that I got the good drugs in me.”

“As I can tell,” Derek says with a soft, amused snort.

Stiles nods and pulls his arm back to trace the tube of his IV absently, “How long do you think it’ll take Kate to get here?”

“Knowing her, she’d have one of her goons or buddies give her a ride in a private jet,” Derek snorts, “I understand that my group is a little more animalistic, but at least we’re not pretentious.”

“Yeah, f—fuck civilization!” Stiles slurs as he raises his hand a little to make a fist.

“You’re strange when you’re on high-grade painkillers.”

“Derek, shush,” Stiles laughs and looks towards the ceiling, “This is the best I’ve felt in hours. Nothin’ can go wrong now.”

Of course, that’s when a loud crackle of thunder rumbles and shakes the window to their room enough to vibrate from its volume. A few nurses look concerned, but they quickly go back to answering their pagers or rushing to other patients’ rooms.

“Great. You jinxed us.”

“You said it was fine now that we’re in Florida,” Stiles points out giddily, and then he scrunches his eyebrows together, “Hey, Der. Is this the storm we saw out over the ocean earlier?”

Derek stands and peeks behind the curtain, “Must’ve followed us from Destin…”

“A stalking storm,” Stiles whispers ominously, his fingers dancing over one another to mimic lightening as another boom of thunder resonates around them.

The alpha scowls and steps away from the window, the curtain alight with flickering flashes as the lighting sparks into illumination outside, “It looks pretty bad out there… Maybe I should check the weather, just to be sure.”

“I would say t—t—that you’re a grumpy Gus, but— but you’re more worried than anythin’ else,” Stiles pauses for a moment, his lips pursed dramatically as he thinks for a moment, his brain sluggish, “Maybe— maybe that makes you a worry Gus.”

“Yes, thank you for that, Stiles,” Derek says, but he’s not really paying attention to the omega as he brushes his finger over the screen of his phone, only to grimace as he sees the severe weather statement highlighting the weather widget, “Looks like we’re in for a rough one…”

Derek hears a light snore, and when he looks up, he sees Stiles sleeping in his bed. Derek doesn’t have the heart to wake the omega up, so instead, he tugs the blanket pooled around Stiles’ lap over his bump and up to his chest. He kisses Stiles’ forehead, letting his lips linger on the human’s sweat—salty skin to savor this moment of peace — the calm before the inevitable storm.

Another crackle of thunder reminds Derek that time is of the essence, and he presses the “call nurse” button as he lets himself get one last look at his mate — and, with a hand to Stiles’ bump, one last moment with his unborn child.

After all, with Kate on her way, this may very well be the last time for any of them to be together, and the thought makes letting go that much harder.

The moment is broken when the woman from earlier comes in, making Derek step back before she comes in enough to look over to Stiles, “He out?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure the sedatives did their job…”

“We’ll go ahead and get him prepped for his cesarean, okay?”

Derek nods, knowing how this is supposed to go, “Be careful with him… That’s my mate you’re going to be cutting up on that table, and my only child that you’re going to be delivering… They’re all I’ve got left in the world…”

The nurse must sense that something is amiss, but she doesn’t have the heart to apparently call Derek out on it, so instead, she nods and whispers, “We’ll take care of both of them, Mr. Hale… I promise.”

Derek nods and sniffs, knowing that he’s close to tearing up as he readies himself, “I, uh— I’ve got to go pick up a few things we left in our rush to get here… Do you mind?”

“Of course not,” the woman begins unhooking Stiles from the nearby machines, “You take care of things, and we’ll take care of your mate here. Be cautious though, I understand that the storm outside is not a nice one.”

“I’ve handled worse,” Derek grits out under his breath, and he leaves the shocked nurse to take care of his vulnerable mate and unborn child, because the worst is already on its way.

“Hale, tell me my boy and my grandkid are okay.”

“Mr. Stilinski, normally I’d love to indulge you about the condition of those two, but I’m currently busy with keeping them alive,” the wind whips harshly at Derek, pulling him one way only to tug him in another at the same time while rain drenches his clothes and runs into his eyes.

There’s a snarl over the line, and it complements another garish grumble of thunder, “Hale, if you end up hurting them again—“

“I’m not going to, Mr. Stilisnki,” the alpha gets one of the bags he’d hidden underneath all of the baby items out, the fabric muffling the clunk of metal as it lands on the ground, “In fact, I’m aiming for quite the opposite.”

“You better be… Those two have so much as a hair on their heads— or arms— I don’t know where my grandkid is going to have hair, but if it’s harmed, it’s on you, Hale.”

“Trust me, Mr. Stilinski,” the alpha says darkly, his eyes narrowing as he shuts the trunk, lightening flashing behind him starkly, “I know that better than anyone right know.”

He abruptly hangs up and grabs the bag, texting the pack to meet him at the address to the hospital Stiles is in, knowing all too well that the end is coming soon.

Smuggling a gun into a hospital is a lot easier than most would think.

Sure, there’s a few things that Derek needs to avoid — careful navigation and placement are everything — but he still manages well enough, considering. Stiles’ hospital room is still vacant since he’s still off in surgery, and if anything, the stale scent of his mate mixed with the sweetness of his pup makes him more nervous than he was before. He ends up pacing the room, only to jolt when the pack enters about an hour or so after Derek had arrived for a second time.

Boyd is the first to speak, “Is Stiles still in the operating room?”

Derek nods, not even caring enough to look at Jackson and Boyd despite the fact they’ve been apart for several months, “Yes. I haven’t heard anything, but that’s both bad and good, I guess. They would’ve definitely told me anything if something had gone wrong.”

“Yeah,” Jackson is fidgety, “Yeah, everything’s still good… We’re still good.”

“Kate’s probably about to land or already has,” Derek pulls back the curtain enough to overlook the view, it blurred out by the heavy downpour, “I wouldn’t know, factoring the weather in.”

Boyd hums, “She might’ve had to land somewhere else in the state or nearby its border. She’s probably taking a car the rest of the way here because of the storm. That’s what we had to do, and we had a heads up marginally larger than hers. Who knows how far out she is…”

The alpha yanks the curtain back over the window as he begins to walk out of the room, his betas already following him out without being ordered to do so, “It doesn’t matter either way, because that buys us some extra time, and that’s good enough for me… Jackson, you have everything we’re going to need?”

“We’re runnin’ a little low on a few things since we’ve been making the false trail, but yeah, we should have enough.”

“Do you think Kate’s brought anyone to help her?”

Derek shakes his head, “Probably not, because this is a personal thing for her. She likes to hunt by herself, told me it was greater that way.”

Jackson whistles lowly as the trio makes it to the elevator, “I’ll never understand why anyone thought a martial truce with that woman was what was going to fix things.”

“Jackson,” Derek growls.

The beta puts his hands up in surrender, but he doesn’t look too phased, “Just callin’ it like I see it, boss. Bitch is crazy.”

“No doubt about that,” and the elevator doors shut, “but little does she know that we are too once you piss us off enough.”

Boyd snorts from behind Derek, “Well, then, I guess that means you’re insane.”

“Maybe, but I’m not going to let her hurt my family,” Derek grits his teeth together, his hands tightening into fists that make his knuckles pop with strain, “I’m not going to let her take that away from me again. Not when it’s Stiles and my kid.”

The two betas nod in understanding, and it’s all Derek needs to know that they’re officially in on it just like he is.

Derek and his two betas stand outside the main entrance to the hospital, grimacing at the angled downpour that manages to get down under the large awning as if it wants to make things more difficult and unbearable. Thankfully though, the benches right outside by the automatic doors are dry, and the trio sits on one as they brainstorm together.

“Do you really think she’s going to be able to steal your kid or even sneak in there to be able to do it?” Jackson asks as he fiddles with the flaps of his jacket, “I mean, aren’t there serious precautions taken by the hospital to prevent something like that?”

“There are, and it’s one reason we chose this place,” Derek pauses briefly, his anxiety bubbling up wildly like it’s a pot of water heated on a hot eye of paranoia and worry, “But Kate could probably get past them. She’s— she’s prepared like that…”

Jackson hums while Boyd remains as quiet and on looking as ever, “Do you think she’s planned for a baby heist specifically?”

“Knowing her, she more than likely made a plan for every type of situation that could happen. That was her greatest strength, I suppose— being ready for whatever she thought she needed to do… Especially if it’s out to ruin my life, she’s invested and determined like that.”

“So we’ve noticed,” Boyd comments, his hands in his pockets and his words nonchalant like they always are.

Derek rubs his temple in an attempt to rid some of his pending migraine, “I just want her to stop… Wasn’t taking my first family enough? Wasn’t wrecking my life and destroying my childhood home in the process plenty? What other dark agenda is there to satisfy?”

“More than likely finishing what she started,” Jackson murmurs, and Derek looks out to where the torrent of rain is down pouring into the parking lot, “She’s been after us— specifically you— since the beginning, we just didn’t know until it was too late. She’s hated us before her mom suggested the arranged marriage to stop the bullshit, and I guess that only made things worse, especially when your parents accepted the deal… All we wanted was peace, and instead she gave us another war.”

Boyd hums in agreement, leaving Derek to glare at the bushes swaying violently in the wind in front of him.

“Boss, there was no way you could’ve known what she and her grandfather were planning behind everyone’s backs,” Jackson sets a cautious hand on Derek’s shoulder, the most the beta will do to offer comfort, but it’s enough, “But it’s different now. We’re going to be ready, aren’t we?”

Derek nods, “And this time—“ the alpha’s eyes narrow, and his hands clench on themselves, “— this time she won’t get what she wants… Not again… I’ll do anything I’m capable of if it means Stiles and our baby will be safe.”

“So how far are you willing to go for them, then?” Boyd asks, his voice only having a few hints of curiosity in it.

“To the ends of the Earth if I have to.”

Jackson smiles, “You did quite a one-eighty on this one, boss.”

“I was scared that things were going to repeat with Stiles… Either he was going to end up like Kate, or it was going to end because of Kate killing him and the baby. I thought I was going to lose all over again.”

“But this time we aren’t?”

“Hell no we aren’t.”

Kate arrives when the storm is at its worst.

Derek believes it’s because of Kate’s presence— that it’s a natural omen for the woman who’s more like a devil in human’s clothing. Still, he ends up seeing her smirking at him as she walks up to the hospital, pedestrians passing by both her and Derek’s pack as they try to escape the wrath of the storm. Kate, however, looks like she’s at home in it. She’s not even flinching or blinking away the torrential rain as it pelts her, and Derek is sure that she doesn’t mind being utterly soaked as she approaches them with that same smirk Derek knows all too well.

“Well, look who’s here. Seems like Air Bud gathered his team,” Kate’s lips widen as her sinister smirk grows, her words bracketed by a loud crack of thunder, “Too bad it isn’t going to make a damn difference.”

“Kate,” Derek grits out, his hands clenching in on themselves as he glares at the venomous snake before him.

She waves with a tiny flick of her fingers, her hip popping out a little as she curtsies to make it seem cute and friendly, “Why hello there, Derek. Nice to see you after all this time. I’m surprised you even recall my name after everything.”

“I got my memories back right after I got away,” Derek growls out, and he knows that Boyd and Jackson tense beside him, “Whatever you did, it didn’t work, and whatever you plan on doing now won’t either.”

Kate laughs, and lightning flashes blindingly off to the side, the zing of it mixing in with the shrill rings of the mad woman’s cackling, “Oh, you were always one for trying to undermine me, Derek. You should’ve learned after last time. After all, your family died then, too—“

Derek nearly wolf’s out right there, had it not been for both Boyd and Jackson’s hands on his shoulders, temporary anchoring him from trying to rip Kate’s throat out right then and there and making things so much worse. Sure, he wants to kill Kate— but like this? He’d be locked up forever on first degree murder, despite all that Kate’s done to him if he attacks her right here without provocation.

He needs to go about this carefully — especially with Kate nagging him on like this — because Stiles and the baby both need him to do this right and not worsen the fire Kate had started all that time ago.

“What are you expecting me to do? Snap and attack you? I’m not stupid, Kate. I know what you’re trying to do.”

That makes her snort in disbelief, “Sure you do, handsome. I mean, it would be nice to make you damn yourself. After all, my grandfather took all the fault for the fire— told me to take care of things and finish what we started for him. A jury would never believe you if we went to court over an assault,” Derek grits his teeth together as Kate goes on, and she takes a couple of steps forward, taunting him with proximity, “You know, I could say that you attacked me because of what happened between our families, that it was completely unelicited. I could keep you away from your mate and pup then, huh? Have you locked up like the animal you are—“

“How would you be able to explain why you’re here then?” Jackson grits out, and Kate grins at him for the question, “They’d be suspicious for the fact that you just happened to be at the same hospital, especially when you have no real reason to be here.”

“Oh, I don’t? I’m pretty sure my friend Brady cut himself when he was trying to get his boat tied to the dock during this horrible storm. He had to come get stitches in the ER for it. Why do you think I’m here?”

Jackson growls, “To try and commit murder again, obviously. Besides, I don’t see—“

Then, two guys come up from behind Kate, and they smile at Derek and his pack as they come up behind Kate. One of them is holding out his hand, which is actually split open and bleeding for Derek and the pack to see.

“Now you do,” Kate purrs, and she waves the two henchmen of hers away to the inside of the hospital as she adds, “My men are dedicated, if not loyal.”

Derek growls, “So what, you expect us to just let you waltz in there?”

“No, but I’m sure that you’ll have to let me in either way.”

Before Derek can ask what that even means, he can pick up the distant blaring of the hurricane siren a mile or so away. He frowns, especially as a nurse rushes out to them while Kate is grinning knowingly.

“I’m sorry, but the weather’s taken a turn for the worst. I need you to come inside, please.”

Kate is on the verge of laughing, and Derek wants to throttle her when he knows that he just can’t right now with how Kate will play him if he does.

They get shuffled inside, and Derek hates it — hates the fact that he has to let Kate come into the building when his mate is more than likely getting out of surgery and his baby is finally here. There’s nothing he can do but keep an eye on her, but even then, Derek knows that won’t be enough with the sly smirk that she has on her face.

Nurses and various people run around them, making the lobby of the hospital crowded as people congregate there as the siren wails outside, muffled a little by the pelt of rain against the building. Derek wants to say something — tell someone what Kate is planning to do — but who would believe him? They’d probably think he’s just an overprotective first—time dad who is worried about someone stealing his baby or hurting his mate. He would get written off as an alpha stressing over the weather and the delicateness of the situation rather than it being a warning about what is to happen.

Kate played her cards well, and she knows this, going by the way she winks at Derek when she slips off into the ER section of the hospital.

“Boyd, Jackson, keep an eye on her,” Derek growls, his betas silent beside him, “If she or her goons try anything, stop them immediately. I don’t want there being a single chance of her or them getting to Stiles and the baby.”

“Will do, boss,” and both Jackson and Boyd head in the direction in which the woman left.

Derek, however, needs to get Stiles and the baby in his sights. He’ll feel more at ease then, knowing that they’re physically there and that they’re okay at the same time. It’ll lessen the nervous swirling in his stomach that matches the way the air rolls around on itself outside— tumbling; roiling about in a vicious looping swarm of mist and chaos.

He doesn’t chance using the elevator, because despite all of the safety precautions, he has a bad, ominous feeling about it, so he chooses the stairs instead. He may cheat by using his abnormal speed, but he gets up to the floor Stiles is on in what must be record time. Nurses and doctors are rushing too, so Derek’s jog isn’t out of place as he goes back to the room his mate was given earlier. Outside, the storm bellows with low moans of thunder and blinding shrieks of lightning, its wails harmonized with the roar of the falling rain and fierce wind.

Derek’s shoes screech a little on the floor as he stops abruptly outside of the room — its lights dimmed and its space quiet — as he enters.

Stiles lay in the bed, his bump now a shadow of its former self, as he breathes lightly in his sleep. Derek swallows roughly as he nears his unconscious mate, and he gazes around the room for any sign of his newborn child. He supposes that they must still be cleaning him up, or that they wanted to wait till Stiles was awake or Derek came back to introduce them to their kid, because there’s no cradle anywhere for them to be.

He sighs, settling himself down into one of the plastic chairs beside Stiles as he does so, and he clasps a hand around the omega’s to anchor himself. He puts their hands up against his forehead as his eyes shut, his breathing deepening as he tries not to panic with Kate being nearby his new family when it’s at its most vulnerable.

Derek keeps a sob from escaping, but when he pulls up — pressing their hands to his quivering lips — his eyes are glistening and his throat is tight.

He promised Stiles that he’d keep him and the baby safe, and with Kate already being here, it feels as though he already failed them somehow. There’s just nothing he can do right now, because Kate will make it that much worse — will manipulate the situation to where Derek will be the monster and Derek will lose Stiles and the baby either way.

“Why does she have to ruin everything?” Derek murmurs brokenly, kissing Stiles’ hand lightly before continuing, “Why can’t she just leave us alone, Stiles? Hasn’t she already bothered us enough?”

The omega shifts in his sleep a little, slightly stirring at Derek’s words until settling a few seconds later, his head turned towards the alpha subconsciously. Derek takes the time to absorb the placement of Stiles’ various freckles and moles dotting and marking up his face like unconnected constellations— how Stiles’ upturned nose and eyelids seem to twitch in unison as he dreams. He looks a little different now without his glasses, but still— it’s Stiles. Derek takes a deep breath so he can memorize Stiles’ sweet scent, only to scowl a little as it’s lessened by the smell of medicine and sedatives.

Still, for what could quite possibly be a last moment for them, it’s good enough for Derek.

Of course, that’s when Stiles begins to stir. His eyes blink open sluggishly for a few seconds, but they close as he winces from them trying to adjust. Derek feels Stiles’ hand squeeze his for a moment out of reflex — like Stiles was remembering the fact that he had limbs and could use them — before his mate finally is able to not shut his eyes again. It’s a faint reminder to that night when he had a concussion, and it makes Derek’s heart pang at the thought of how Stiles is pretty much just as helpless then as he is now.

“Hey,” the alpha murmurs, his words soft as he brushes a few strands of sweat-soaked hair off of Stiles’ forehead, “You with me, Stiles?”

He groans a little, his words slightly slurred while his vocal cords grit together, “D—Der?”

“Yeah, I’m here… You’re out of surgery now.”

Stiles tries to sit up, but it’s stopped abruptly as he whines, making Derek rush to fix him in his bed, “The baby?”

“Haven’t heard anything yet,” Derek scowls at how pale Stiles looks— sure, he wasn’t too tan or anything before, but now, his skin is ghostly in its complexion and saturation, and Derek hates it, “but that is a good sign too. They would’ve been raising a lot of flags if something were wrong.”

“I’m still worried though,” Stiles weakly admits, his words shaky with anxiety and the promise of tears, “What if— what if something happened—“

“Stiles,” Derek cups his mate’s face gently and turns his head towards himself, “Nothing is going to happen, okay?”

Stiles shakes his head, and a tear slips down his cheek, “But— but Kate—“

“Stiles, she isn’t going to hurt you—“

“I don’t care about me,” the omega growls, his eyes fiery despite his lack of energy and awareness from the leftover drugs in his system, “As long as our kid is safe, I could care less about what happens to me—“

“Don’t say that,” Derek growls, and he knows that his eyes are bleeding through, “Don’t say that kind of shit and think it’s okay, because it’s not. It’s so fucking far from okay.”

Stiles laughs without the humor, but is cut off by a wince when Derek believes it pulls at his stitches, “So is the current situation if you haven’t noticed…” there’s a lapse of silence between them, and the storm rages on outside when Stiles speaks up again, “Shit— it sounds like a fucking hurricane out there…”

“They used the siren, believe it or not,” Derek murmurs, “It’s how Kate got in—“

“You mean she’s here!?” Stiles jolts up, only to gasp as he tugs at the incisions from his c-section roughly in the process, “W—Why didn’t you tell me, god dammit!?”

“Because I wanted to avoid this,” the alpha gestures to how Stiles is panicking and hurting himself with how he’s struggling to sit up on his own, and he sighs and forces Stiles to lay back in his bed, “I understand that you’re mad—“

“I’m livid, Derek! You just want me to lay here in bed while Kate is here!? Do you want her to do something to our—“

Derek’s low snarl stops Stiles from finishing the sentence, “You know I’d never fucking want that… I know better than anyone here what she’s capable of…”

Stiles takes a second to realize what his words brought up back to the surface, “I— I didn’t mean it that way…”

“And I didn’t mean it that way, either. I didn’t want to tell you that Kate was here because you don’t need that stress, and for right now we’re— I think we’re in a stalemate…”

That makes Stiles quirk his head a little, “What do you mean?”

“She hasn’t done anything yet, but— . . . I think she’s waiting to strike.”

Stiles hums in thought, “It’d make more sense for her to wait for a good opening… Also, speaking of strike, why aren’t you doing anything yourself?”

“She’s got me deadlocked, so to speak,” Derek explains, noticing that Stiles is watching him carefully, “If I try and do anything, she’ll make it look like I attacked her out of a vindictive rage. I’d be jailed for it.”

“But you’re trying to protect me—“

“Gerard Argent, her grandfather, took all of the blame for the fire along with several other family and gang members. They all cooperated and made it seem like Kate was unaware of their plans, and that she was just as devastated was I was over my family. She was even given a fake alibi by several different people for the night of the fire and it checked out, so she was no longer a suspect. A jury wouldn’t believe me if I said it was to protect you because they don’t see her as a threat.”

Stiles’ head hits the back of his pillow in frustration, his hands balling up into fists at his sides, “This is so fucked up…”

“I know… I asked for so many repeals of the case— to try and get the justice that needed to be served for my family and my friends that were murdered that night… No one ever believed me. They just thought I was trying to get back at Kate for what her family did and for the fact she broke off our engagement soon after the fire.”

“What about the baby? Surely someone would’ve asked about it, right?”

“No one officially knew other than me, and even then, there never really was a baby,” Derek puts his face in his hands, his inhale sharp as though the air were cutting his lungs as he breathed it in, “She played everyone— especially me— like it was nothing…”

“You aren’t a game or a marionette, Derek,” Stiles murmurs, and the alpha looks up to see the omega looking at him sincerely, his words just as genuine as his expression, “Stop blaming yourself for what Kate has done. None of that was your fault, okay?”

“But— I should’ve— I should’ve known,” Derek sobs out, and his eyes water harshly, “Had I caught on sooner, none of this would have happened…”

“None of it?” Stiles echoes, his voice grim, making Derek look up at the omega to see him watching Derek with a small amount of hurt in his haze, “You mean none of this right here? Me? The baby? . . . None of it?”

Derek frowns, “I wasn’t saying—“

“Derek, you do realize that if Kate never did what she did— if you caught onto her early on like you just said— you wouldn’t have met me, or at least, wouldn’t have acted the way you had if we somehow managed another serendipity then. Even so, this right here wouldn’t have happened… There wouldn’t be an us, and there sure as Hell wouldn’t be a baby, either…”

“I wasn’t saying that I was regretting you or our kid,” Derek asserts, but his voice is quiet and not too fiery, “I just wish that Kate wasn’t a part of this. I only want the best for us, and a homicidal maniac isn’t helping things.”

Stiles deflates a little, “I can understand that... I guess we have enough on our plate already, even without her trying to mosey her way onto it…”

Their conversation falls through for a few seconds until Stiles speaks up again.

“So, now that the baby has escaped my stomach,” the omega begins, glancing at his noticeably flatter middle, “and Kate is right around the corner like some crime—eager creeper, what’s the game plan, bid guy?”

“I don’t know… She’s got me put in a corner right now, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to get out of it…”

“We should make the first move, then.”

Derek shakes his head, “No. Kate would make sure there would be Hell to pay legally. I’m sure that she has some trick or nasty card hidden up her sleeve if we try to do anything first. If we were to go after her, she’d take us all down. Do you really want to chance losing custody or something? She’d make sure that you’d never see our baby again, Stiles, and maybe then some. She always loves adding insult to injury…”

The human sags a little against the mattress, “I guess you have a point… But still, I just— I don’t like the idea of having to knowingly wait for her to attack us.”

“Neither do I, but there’s not much else we can do at the moment. She has our hands tied.”

Stiles pouts softly, and Derek almost wants to smirk at how childish it is, “I feel like that woman in Australia, you know? Except this time, it won’t be a dingo that steals my baby.”

“Probably not… Speaking of which, do you want to know if we can see them now?”

Stiles instantly brightens, “I’ve been carrying that bugger for a little over nine months. Of course I want to see them!”

Derek grins softly, and presses the nurse button on Stiles’ bed. A different woman comes in this time, but she’s wearing a smile just like the first when she enters the room.

“You called?”

“Is it possible we could see our baby now?” Stiles’ asks quietly, “I mean, we realize that there’s a possibility there’s still some post OP cleaning and check—ups being done, but. . . we kinda wanna see our bugger.”

She nods in understanding, “I think they just got done cleaning the little one up. I’ll be sure to contact them and let them know you’re ready to see them now.”

Stiles looks both anxious and excited when she leaves the room, and he still staring at the doorway when Derek glances over to his mate as he speaks softly, “I’m so ready but not at the same time…”

“I know the feeling,” the werewolf murmurs, but Stiles doesn’t look towards him.

“It’s like— am I going to mess this up? Am I going to do well? Am I going to be a good parent that raises a good kid, or am I going to suck balls at it and fuck them up forever?” Stiles shivers for a millisecond, but not from the cold, “Like— like— what if I drop them? What if I don’t support their head right and they become lopsided for the rest of their lives—“

“Stiles—“

“— I mean, that’d really suck, and I would never forgive myself for making my child’s perception of life askew—“

“Stiles, you’re not—“

The omega is nearly panicking now, “— God, I should’ve read more parenting books and studied more about this because I’m so fucking out of my league—“

“Stiles,” Derek stands and grips onto his mate to anchor him back to reality, and the windows shutter a little with a deafening rumble of thunder, “We need to keep level heads right now. Our baby needs us to be calm. Remember, the—“

“Baby comes first,” Stiles finishes with Derek, his form sagging a little under Derek’s hands, and his grip loosens like Stiles’ previously tense muscles, “I get it. I remember our promise… Sorry I kinda lost my mind right then…”

“It’s fine. I just don’t need that right now, and neither does the baby… With Kate as close as she is, I don’t want anything to happen because we’re stressing out, even if it’s rationalized… I should be the sorry one for that alone.”

Stiles shakes his head weakly, “No, you have no reason to apologize to me. I’d be beside myself if Kate got the jump on me because I lost myself for a few seconds. You have every right to tell me to keep my shit together right now… I have to, after all. With this crazy ass storm and our baby— . . . I already shouldn’t be checking out of reality until things get back to normal, whenever that’ll be...”

Derek nods, and backs off to his usual seat. He settles down in it for a few moments before looking towards the window. Even though it’s later in the afternoon, the dark sky offers no clue to what time it truly is. Derek can see a little of the view past the vertical blinds, and it’s an ugly sight. It doesn’t help with matters, because being stuck in a severe storm while Kate is only a few floors down in the same building? Yeah— that guarantees some serious stress right there.

However, before a headache can really set in, Derek picks up on movement outside the room, and he looks at the doorway in just enough time to see several nurses wheel in one of the carts that carry newborns. A creak from the springs in the mattress off to his side tells Derek that Stiles’ attention has been caught by the new arrival too.

“Mr. Stilinski, Mr. Hale,” the doctor greets them, “I’m happy to say that Mr. Stilinski’s cesarean was a success, and that your baby was delivered without any issues.”

Stiles shuffles a little in his bed, and Derek can see the human wince out of the corner of his eye, “A—Are they okay?”

“Oh, they’re as healthy as can be, Mr. Stilisnki. There’s no birth defects, no life-threatening diseases… I think it’s because your little one here is a werewolf just like Mr. Hale.”

Stiles laugh is a little bittersweet, “We figured they were… With all the Hell they gave me, it was the only explanation.”

Derek wants to smirk — wants to tell Stiles “I told you so” — but he can’t. Not when he can hear the small heartbeat so close by calling to him like a siren’s song.

“I was told that you two weren’t aware of your child’s gender?”

“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Stiles whispers, “just like the whole werewolf thing… Can— can I see them?”

“Of course, Mr. Stilinski.”

Derek shuffles closer to Stiles and stands next to his mate, but his eyes are apt on being focused on the cart the nurses brought in. The little heartbeat gets louder and louder until it’s the only thing Derek can he can hear — a distinct pounding that flutters like a hummingbird’s wings — as one of the nurses lifts a swaddle of blue cloth.

“Congrats! It’s a boy,” she announces.

There’s a chocked off sob right after that from Stiles, and his arms are already outstretched to hold the baby. The nurse walks forward with a gentle smile, and that’s when Derek first sees their child’s face.

Unblinking blue eyes meet Derek’s — shit, are they supposed to be able to do that now already? — in an unwavering stare. Their son’s face is expressionless but open like a blank book that hadn’t been written in yet. His gaze takes in Derek in the few seconds, ones that seem to have slowed down into hours, that the nurse is switching him over to Stiles. Derek’s heart thunders in time with the small pulse he still has deafening everything else out, and his eyes widen in wonder the longer he stares at his son.

And of course, that’s when he smiles.

Derek remembers how his mom used to tell the story of that day she delivered him in the hospital millions of times before she passed. She always went on about how she was so excited to meet him after carrying him around for nine months, and that when the doctors brought him in it was the single greatest experience of her life.

Derek guesses that this is what she meant, because as his baby boy’s eye crinkle with delight — his tiny fist getting gnawed on by his gums — when he grins cheekily, he understands exactly how his mom must’ve felt when he finally got to see her for the first time.

Despite seeming suspended, time is still somehow passing, meaning that Stiles breaks the moment of Derek’s as he takes their son into his arms. But, instead of just staring at his kid, he stares at the person who brought them here.

Stiles’ lips are stretched so far over his teeth in an honest-to-God, genuine smile that it makes Derek’s cheeks ache. He sees how watery Stiles’ eyes are, and how they’re locked onto their baby’s face as he takes in the life that he spent so much time and energy on to make sure that they got here to this exact moment. A tear falls down the omega’s cheek, and his lips pull together to tremble as Stiles pulls back some of the blanket encasing their son. Even though it’s tiny and slightly uncoordinated, his son’s hand quickly grips onto one of Stiles’ fingers. Instantly, Stiles reacts. He’s laughing through a heartfelt sob as he holds their son’s hand back lightly — as though he’s worried about breaking something if he’s not careful. He mouths a silent “hi” to their son, like his vocal cords can’t power through the emotion that currently has his throat caught up in a vice.

Derek can tell already that Stiles is completely in love, and with how their son looked at him earlier — his pudgy cheeks brought up in the brightest smile he’d ever had the grace of seeing — Derek can also tell that he isn’t that far off himself.

Derek creeps closer, but he’s hesitant as he approaches. Either Stiles doesn’t notice him or he doesn’t care, because he’s too busy rubbing his thumb over the tiny pointer finger that’s wrapped around his own faithfully. The alpha’s breath catches yet again, because their son is smiling at Stiles like he had been at Derek, but it’s wider this time somehow. Derek guesses that maybe he didn’t get the full effect because of the fist gnawing, but if anything, it just made it cuter than anything else.

Still, their son is a gushy-eyed miracle— one that could probably be a decent runner up for the eighth wonder of the world. He’s got brown hair like Stiles, alongside some of his moles and freckles, but mostly, he reminds Derek of himself, with his narrow cheekbones and hawk—like eyes. Still, any stare of his would only be taken as adorable as intimidating, because out of all the things that could’ve happened, he also got Stiles’ button nose. Any glare this kid will throw will never be considered threatening, and Derek is already in love with the concept.

Stiles must notice it too, because he takes a finger and gently boops their son’s nose, making him giggle.

“H—Hey there, little guy,” Stiles chokes out, “You thought that was funny, didn’t ya?”

Their son laughs loudly, and he lets go of Stiles’ hand to clap his own together excitedly like he can’t contain himself.

Stiles chuckles softly and does it again, only to get an even louder, happier laugh out of their son while his arms attempt to manically windmill themselves as best as they can with the dexterity of a newborn.

“It’s official,” Stiles actually turns to look at Derek, catching the alpha off guard, “We’re keeping him forever.”

“Like we were going to give him up in the first place,” Derek murmurs with a small amount of humor.

Stiles rolls his eyes lightly with a smirk, “Okay, you got me there… But I think that if we’re going to gush over this lil’ guy properly, he needs a name that we can coo at him with.”

“Oh, shi— I mean crap,” Derek corrects himself, making Stiles giggle at him while their son makes slow grabby hands towards them both like he can’t decide who to touch, “I didn’t think about that…”

“Well, we agreed with an on-the-spot naming ceremony,” Stiles brings their song up a little to where he’s in front of them both, and his piercing, blue eyes dart from one to the other as he grins and chews absently on a finger, “So, what are you thinking?”

Derek presses his lips together in a fine line, “We had a few names ready in case we had a boy…”

“Yeah, kinda glad you weren’t a girl, buddy, otherwise we’d be scrambling right now,” Stiles pokes their son’s tummy, making him giggle just like when Stiles had booped his nose, “Any that you liked, Derek?”

“We said something about Evan…” the alpha comments.

Stiles grins, “Evan… Yeah, I dig it. Is that okay, lil’ guy? You like Evan?”

Their son squeals in delight.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Stiles laughs, “Okay, but we’re not done yet, buddy. We still have one more name to bestow upon you. What do you think? Have any suggestions of your own, pipsqueak?”

With a slight kick out with his leg, their son makes a shrill cry as if he wants to hear what noises he can make already.

“Huh, talkative,” Stiles murmurs, “Does that inspire you, Derek?”

“My neighbor once had a rescued puppy that wouldn’t ever stop barking,” Derek murmurs, “He came from an abusive home, and he was really nervous being in the apartment complex. He howled during thunderstorms…”

Outside, the thunder rumbles on, and Stiles quirks his head as their son chortles loudly, “Well, that’s fitting, now isn’t it? What was the dog’s name?”

“Isaac.”

Stiles hums thoughtfully, and after a few seconds of consideration, he smiles, “I think we got our second name… Isaac Evan Stilinski-Hale…”

Derek gapes for a moment, “You— you want him to take my last name too?”

Stiles looks towards Derek as he rearranges their snuffling son against his chest, “Of course I do. He’s your son too, after all—“

“No, I meant—“ Derek takes a deep breath as he stares at Stiles in utter confusion, “Why would you include me in his namesake? I thought— I thought you wouldn’t want me associated with him any more than I already am…”

Stiles shrugs, “Sure, it’ll probably cause some drama for us here and there when people realize one of his daddies is a notorious motorcycle gang leader, but if anything else, we’ll just work through that too.”

Derek closes his mouth, but isn’t able to say anything else.

The nurse comes forward then, “Have you both picked a name out for the birth certificate?”

“Yes,” Stiles answers for them both, and even relays it to the nurse.

“Okay, I’ll have that filled out for you in a few seconds. Again, congrats.”

Stiles smiles, “Yeah, we got really lucky with this little guy.”

The nurse exits the room, leaving just the tiny family unit behind. Derek is still silent, but he has so many unanswered questions he wants to ask Stiles right now.

Why his name? Why include Derek and his charred lineage with their son?

He’s still fretting over it when Stiles looks over to him.

“You’re awfully quiet, even for you,” he tilts his head while their son chews at Stiles finger absently, “Everything alright, Derek?”

“Yes, just— overwhelmed is all,” Derek rubs at his neck, “Can— I want to touch him… I haven’t yet.”

“Go ahead. You can even hold him if you want.”

Derek shakes his head on the offer, “I think I’d drop him my arms are shaking so bad…”

That makes Stiles snort, “For a werewolf with super powers and amazing control, you sure lack limb coordination.”

“Well it’s not every day that my son is born,” the alpha defends weakly as he slips a hand forward towards their baby.

“Touché, but still, dude. I was worried before and I’m not going to lie, I still kinda am, but I’m sure that I overreacted a bit… Do you really want to wait on holding him?”

Derek nods gently, “Yes… Just for now… I— If I hold him now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let him go…”

The admission makes Stiles smile warmly, “Yeah, I can feel you on that one… You want to hold his hand instead? He’s got quite the grabby fingers…”

“Sure, that’s— that’s fine…”

Derek leans forward, and he finds his son staring at him again. His blue eyes are zoned in on Derek’s face as he still gums at Stiles’ pointer finger. He makes small little noises when he breathes, like he doesn’t know how to exhale without using his vocal cords yet, and it has Derek’s heart thundering like the storm outside.

Their son squeals again, but in surprise when Derek brings his right hand forward. Instantly, Stiles’ is forgotten in favor of the newest set of fingers before him. A chubby hand staggers forward enough to reach Derek’s outstretched palm. As soon as their skin brushes against one another, Derek jolts. He understood that newborns were pretty much “untainted” in the eyes of the world. No scars. No aged wrinkles. But still, he wasn’t— wasn’t expecting this.

His son’s skin is satin soft against his own, warm and welcoming in a way that Derek hasn’t felt since before the fire when his family was thriving and growing. A few tears spring up at the thought of his lost loved ones — all the wasted life and memories and affection — but he powers through it, wrapping his finger around his son’s tiny fist. He coos in response, his mouth forming a faint o-shape as he shakily traces Derek’s finger with his other hand in complete curiosity.

“He likes you,” Stiles chuckles.

“I would hope so,” Derek murmurs back, but he can’t look away from their son.

Stiles sighs happily, “You know, despite all the bullshit that’s happened… I wouldn’t change anything if it meant I didn’t get to have this.”

“Me either,” the alpha whispers in agreement, still in awe of the boy he helped bring into existence.

“Look at us,” Stiles chirps, making their boy look at him as he speaks, “we’re a happy family now!”

Derek grins, and he squeezes his son’s hand gently, “Yeah… Yeah we are. Just us and little Isaac.”

For a moment, it feels like nothing is wrong. There’s no storm raging on outside. There’s no Kate Argent a few floors below. There’s no bad blood between both Derek and Stiles.

It’s as though for a split second, the universe decided to give Stiles and Derek this one moment — this one chance to feel like a normal family with a newborn son that already is their world and center of the universe.

Of course, though, in the moment where they feel as though they’re invincible is when the cruel humor of life decides to give them a blatant reminder of their vulnerability.

With a loud crack of thunder and a flash of lightening that is so bright that Derek considers it having struck the building, the power goes off. In an instant, everything goes from calm into panic. Shrill noises of the machines scream at the loss of power, and people shout and yell all throughout the floor. Isaac immediately begins to wail in response, his cheerful disposition being completely shattered as he more than likely senses all of the panic but doesn’t understand any of it.

“Stiles—“ Derek is able to see easily, thankfully, but he knows that his human mate and his newborn son aren’t as lucky, “I need you to make sure that you and Isaac are hidden, okay?”

“Derek, what—“

“Isaac is freaking out because he can’t see what’s going on right now, he can only hear and smell your panic,” Derek explains, “He needs you to calm down and keep him safe, okay?”

Derek can see Stiles’ throat flex in the dark, but his eyes are unfocused and searching through what is a black void of the space around him, “O-Okay… I will… Do you— do you think Kate is behind this?”

“Even if she isn’t, she’ll take advantage of this. I know that hospital have back-up generators, but Kate probably knew this too. Don’t take that kind of thing for granted, okay? I need you to get away from the room and hide as best as you can.”

Stiles looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack, but he somehow still holds it together, “I know… Just— where are you going, Derek?”

“I’m going to try and keep Kate and her goons from getting up here—“

“There’s an issue downstairs!” a nurse shouts, making both Stiles and Derek jerk their attention to the sound of chaos outside the room, “Two werewolves are trying to attack people on the ground floor in the ER! Wolfsbane poisoning is expected!”

“The pack,” Stiles says in horror, “Kate must’ve dosed Boyd and Jackson—“

“Shit!” Derek hisses, and he begins to head out towards the door, “Stiles, I— I don’t know if I can keep Kate or her goons from getting up here with Boyd and Jackson—“

“Help your pack. You’re the only one that can keep them and the people around them safe,” Stiles murmurs, but somehow, he manages to grab onto Derek’s hand, “but before you go… I want a goodbye.”

“Stiles… Don’t— don’t make it seem like this might be the last time I see either of you,” Derek brokenly whispers.

Stiles’ expression is grim while his hand is tight around Derek’s, “It might be, Derek, for either of us. I— I just want to make sure that we both get a last word in edgewise. I don’t want any what-if’s for this moment right here if it ever gets to that point.”

Derek nods, “Okay… I understand…”

Derek quickly come back over, and he glances between his son and his mate, and the saliva in his mouth becomes hard to swallow. He brushes a few fingers over Isaac’s head, making his wails die down into unhappy and frightened whimpers. He hates the small quiver in his bottom lip, but he knows that there’s nothing he can do. Instead, he rips his attention to Stiles in an effort to keep himself sane, and he takes a second to memorize the features of his mate’s face. It’s almost like when Stiles was heading off to surgery, but this time, the chance of death is much more prominent for either of them.

Derek just wishes it wasn’t.

With a deep, shaky breath, Derek leans forward and kisses Stiles’ on the cheek. He can taste the saltiness of tears and sweat on his mate’s skin, and he savors it for a moment while Stiles sobs quickly and grips onto the lapel of the alpha’s leather jacket.

“I know this sounds out of place, and that maybe it’s a little early, but—“ Stiles sniffles, “I was excited for this you know… For us to be dads together… I— despite all of the stuff we put ourselves through, I thought we had a decent shot of making it.”

“We will,” Derek vows seriously, “We will make it, Stiles.”

Stiles smiles, and his laugh is bittersweet, “One can hope.”

“One can know,” Derek murmurs, and he leans away from Stiles altogether, “Keep our son safe, Stiles.”

“Keep our pack safe,” the omega replies with all seriousness, and it makes Derek’s heart pang in a multitude of ways.

“I will…”

“As will I,” Stiles echoes, and Derek takes one last look at his new family before running out the door.

Despite being unable to see all that well and for the occasional, blinding flash of lightening, Stiles manages to scope out his room. Derek’s been gone for only a few seconds, but his absence is already strongly felt. Stiles has a nagging feeling that there was still a lot left unsaid — a lot left unfinished — but he has to stamp down the anxiousness because his boy needs him to be strong.

The baby comes first, Stiles chants in his mind as he begins to try and get out of his bed with their son still whimpering quietly in his arms, Isaac comes first, everything else comes last. Even me, if necessary.

The pain he gets from pulling on his fresh stitches is almost enough to knock the wind out of him, but he knows that he doesn’t have the time to catch his breath. Every second he wastes wallowing in the pain is one he loses for escaping Kate.

With a solid resolve, Stiles manages to begin walking forward. It’s agonizing, and his steps are still sluggish from hours of disuse and remnants of the sedatives in his system. Yet, despite all of his setbacks, Stiles somehow ends up in the length of the hallway with his son in his arms.

The nurses are all rushing by with small, dim flashlights that are about as useful as nightlights are for illumination, but they don’t seem to notice Stiles and his baby leaving the room as they try to figure out how to combat the major power outage.

“Shouldn’t the generators kick in or something?” one nurse asks the other as Stiles begins to head towards the stairs he saw at the end of the hallway, “Lives could be in serious danger.”

“I know, I know! For some reason they aren’t coming on. Maintenance has been down there for five minutes now trying to fix them. They have a lot on their plate at the moment. It’s one thing right after the other, apparently.”

The first nurse makes a panicked noise, “God, I nearly forgot that there are the two werewolves going on a wolfsbane-poisoned rampage downstairs… It’s almost like Armageddon here…”

God— that’s definitely Kate’s doing. But Stiles can’t do anything about it— not now— not with Isaac depending on him.

“Maybe it is the end of the world,” the second one murmurs as the storm rumbles angrily from above.

Stiles nearly stumbles at that, but keeps going. He pulls the handle on the door leading to the staircase and starts to ascend to an upper floor. He knows that the elevators are currently out of commission, meaning that Kate and her fuck buddies are going to use the stairs just like Stiles is. The only direction he can go is up now, and he clutches onto Isaac as he takes agonizing after agonizing step upwards.

He can hear doors opening from all floors, and people occasionally rush by him. The hospital must be in too much of a panic to notice Stiles’ presence, because they don’t even acknowledge the omega as they pass him. Isaac chirps occasionally — just curious little noises as Stiles somehow manages to go up the stairs without tripping or passing out from the pain.

“We’re almost there, little buddy,” Stiles soothes his son by brushing his head again, something that Stiles has noticed calms him down immensely, “Daddy just sucks at steps right now…”

It isn’t until he’s near the door to the floor above him that he hears a familiar voice, “You two idiots go and search the floor, I’ll be above you to make sure the little shit hasn’t tried to play smart. If I don’t find you both back here in five minutes, go back downstairs and handle Derek’s pets.”

“Oh god,” Stiles hisses into Isaac’s blanket, and he manages to open the door without much noise, “She’s here Isaac… If you could do daddy a favor, please— please stay quiet.”

He can already hear Kate’s footsteps coming up the staircase, and he quickly shuts the door and looks around the hall to find anything to lock it with.

“Sir?” a nurse comes up to him then, and concern contorts her face, “Sir, are you alright.”

“There’s a woman, she’s— she’s trying to take my baby.”

The nurse looks caught off guard on that one, “Are you sure—“

“We don’t have time to argue about it. She’s already on the stairs to get here. Please. I don’t want her to hurt my son… I only just got to name him— it’s too early for me to lose my baby, please…”

The nurse takes one look at Stiles and Isaac, who’s currently gnawing at his fist again like a little champ. Her eyes soften as she notices the fear and the vulnerability written all over Stiles. She nods and takes her set of keys to lock the door right when Kate opens it.

“Ah,” she smiles as the nurse freezes into place and Stiles heart nearly stops as well, “I was looking for you.”

“Ma’am, I need you to leave.”

Kate smiles at the woman, but it’s hostile rather than friendly, “I can’t. The hospital is on lockdown due to weather. Besides, I only wanted to see the little one—“

“Ma’am,” the nurse reasserts, and Stiles wishes that she knew what she was dealing with, “you need to—“

Kate’s lips thin out as she smirks sinisterly, “I fucking got it, okay? I just don’t care.”

The nurse is about to call out for help or something like security, but Kate beats her to it by brandishing what looks like a knife in the split second it’s not in the nurse’s torso. Stiles watches in horror as the nurse’s face crumples as Kate stabs her in the stomach with such ease. Kate’s face is expressionless as she does it — a blank slate sans the small quirk to her lips as she makes sure the life drains from the other woman’s eyes.

“Oh my god,” Stiles gags for a second, the air smelling heavily of salty rust and sickness, “you— you killed her—“

“Name of the game, honeybun. Speaking of which, how is the little pumpkin?”

“Good until you showed up.”

Kate pouts at that, and she wipes her knife on the nurse’s ruined scrubs before letting her lifeless body crumple to the tiles below, “Aw, don’t make it out like that. I’m sure the storm is just scaring him. After all, it is a nasty one out there.”

Thunder booms above as if to assure Stiles that it’s still hell outside, its roar shaking the building as Isaac wails in response to the loud noise.

“Leave us alone, Kate… He’s not even an hour old—”

“No, I don’t think I will leave you both alone,” Kate saunters forward darkly, “Both you and your little bundle of joy are of interest to me. I don’t think I could stop if I tried or wanted to— which I don’t, obviously. I want to gut you and then turn your mutt into a nice, little bloody present to give to his dad. Do you think Derek would love that?” Kate’s mouth quirks, her gaze filled with sickened interest at the mental image, “He thinks he’ll be coming to save you, only to find that his mate is a crumpled, mutilated corpse littering the floor like garbage— an afterthought. . . but the baby— oh the baby— . . .That would be the crème da la crème, wouldn’t it?”

Stiles swallows nervously as the length of the blade glints dangerously in his direction, “Kate—“

“I could kill it slowly. . . make it hurt,” Kate licks her lips hungrily, her sinister gaze landing on the bundle in Stiles’ arms and against his chest, “I could erase the mistake that was made… Because after all, that’s all your precious babe is, isn’t it? A mistake? The result of an unprotected one-night-stand? It’s that just shameful enough already?”

Stiles feels his back get pressed up against a wall, and his feeling of panic rises in the form of horror-induced bile in his throat, “Stop—“

“How can you ever look your child in the eye and tell it that it wasn’t conceived out of love? That your suppressants failed and Derek just got careless with his knot? Do you think other kids will bully him for it because they can just know? That they can just tell when another child is different—“

Stiles doesn’t know how it happens, considering he’s still got the incisions from where they cut Isaac out of him, as well as the fact he’s still holding the newborn like he’s the last thing that Stiles has in the world with Derek fighting who knows what downstairs— but Stiles still finds himself knocking the knife out of Kate’s hands. It’s like all of the sedatives that he had in his system have worn off, and that the sharp, searing pain in his abdomen has been dampened down to nothing but a dull twinge that Stiles ignores.

The other nurses on the floor must not be aware of what’s happening — be it that they’re trying not to let their patients die, or that they can’t hear the struggle going on past the immense noise that is the storm outside — because no one comes to help Stiles as he tries to hurt the woman who’s trying to kill his newborn son.

“You’ll regret that,” Kate sneers roughly, her eyes wild with vindictive fire — hot, scornful — as she pulls back from Stiles— there’s hairs strewn all about her face, getting tugged forwards by the heated, rushed exhales escaping the woman as she glares at Stiles like he’s nothing but fresh dog shit on her Prada, “You’ll regret everything… I’ll make sure you will.”

“The only thing I regret is not hurting or killing you that night at the bar,” Stiles hisses back, pulling Isaac to his chest to comfort him as best he can without breaking eye contact with Kate, and it manages to at least quiet his son for now, “Had I known who you were, I would’ve made sure that you were dead before I left.”

“Such a big statement for someone who knows and has done so little,” the lunatic grits out, her fingers twitching like she’s imagining choking the life out of Stiles, and can’t help but to try and crossover the idea into the real world, “This isn’t your fight— it never has been. How about you just go home to your dying daddy and leave the adult things to us?”

Stiles can feel Isaac anxiously mouthing at his collar, as if to remind Stiles why he’s doing everything that he is, “No.”

Kate’s abhorrent gaze narrows on the omega before her.

“I may not really be involved like you said, but my son is. I don’t care if it’s me against the entire world— if I’m going into something knowing that I may not make it out unscathed— because I have already gone through Hell and back for my son, even when I was only pregnant with him. What makes you think I won’t do it again?”

Kate’s brows lift only a little — just enough to where Stiles can see that the mad woman wasn’t exactly expecting such devotion. She’s dumber than Stiles initially thought, then.

“I must say, you must’ve grown balls alongside your little runt there,” Kate snickers before she looks at Isaac in Stiles’ arms, “It’s going to be such a shame to let that fire die in your for nothing.”

“It won’t be for nothing.”

Kate sighs, “You really are naïve. And here I was, hoping that maybe the time you spent with Derek would harden you, but I guess he and your mutt made you softer than anticipated.”

Stiles wants to run, but with how his stitches are burning, he knows it isn’t likely. It’s probably why Kate gets the upper hand only seconds after she’s done speaking, because Stiles watches as her hand slips behind her back to pull a gun from her waist. Stiles stares at it — its barrel pointed directly between his eyes.

He doesn’t even have to be a were to be able to smell the gunpowder emanating from it.

“What do you want?” he grits out, his voice stronger than he feels at the current moment, especially as Isaac stirs in his arms with a whimper.

Kate quirks her lips, licking them for a second like her thoughts are horrendously appetizing in ways Stiles doesn’t want to know, “I want to have fun, obviously. Now, if you’d start walking, that’d be great.”

Stile stakes a deep breath, his arms slightly tightening around Isaac, “Walking’s a little excruciating right now—“

In milliseconds, Kate has her gun pointed towards Isaac, the more than likely cold metal pressed against his son’s temple. Isaac must not like the feeling of it against his skin or can sense what’s going on, because he starts wailing moments after the gun is put on him.

“Walk or your son finds out what it’s like to chew on a bullet.”

Stiles glares at the woman, his words venomous, “Where to? . . .”

“Oh now, Stiles, while I enjoy your cooperation,” Kate laughs, her eyes alight with something vile, “telling you would just ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?”

She shoves Stiles forward, the force of it pulling at his fresh stitches roughly enough to make a whine die in his throat as his teeth grit together. Still, he powers on, forgetting the gun placed right between his shoulder blades as his son cries against him.

Thunder rumbles above, and the howling of wind reminds Stiles of Derek’s words when they were out on the beach earlier. From paradise to Hell— surely this must be it.

Stiles tries to calm his son, patting his back as Kate guides him back to the stairwell. Each step is agonizing, but Kate doesn’t let Stiles do as much as lean on the handrails as he feels his side scream in agony. Isaac is not quiet, especially when they reach the top floor, stopping in front of a flimsy metal door that’s shaking from the weather outside.

“Open it. We’re going to have a bit of an experience with nature.”

“We can’t go out there—“

“Stiles, at this point, do you really think a little torrential rain and strong wind is going to stop me? That’s right— no. So go ahead and open the fucking door before I see if your son would bounce if I dropped him right over this stairwell.”

Stiles tightens his hold on Isaac just a little more, frightened. He opens the door as instructed, hand shaking and heart racing as the outside world comes starkly into his view. Already, the rain is pouring inside, flooding over the tiles and around Stiles bare feet as thunder rumbles above.

“Move,” the barrel of the gun presses against his spinal cord, egging him forwards.

Stiles moves, steps unsure and unsteady as the wind pushes and pulls at him. In his arms, Isaac is crying wildly, his little nails sharp despite the fabric covering Stiles’ chest. The omega takes a deep breath, shivering in the cold as he turns to face Argent.

“Why bring me up here?”

“It would so tragic, wouldn’t it?” Kate speaks above the wind, smiling as her gun aims towards Stiles’ heart, and in turn, his sons head, “The Hale name is always so caught up in the papers. Accident after accident. Death after death. It would be even sadder if the name reappeared over the apparent suicide of the bitch Hale knocked up— baby included.”

“You— you want me to jump!?”

“I’d push you if you didn’t,” Kate shrugs, “but in a sense, yes. I mean, who wants to be tied to a mafia lord like that? To be linked to a monster and its spawn that you let grow inside of you? Some could argue it was post—partum depression, others could say it was pressure from finding out about Derek’s career of choice. A tragic accident nonetheless, one with Derek right in the middle of it all.”

Stiles stares at Kate, the rain matting down her hair and the lightening illuminating the madness in her eyes.

“He was right. You are fucking crazy. In fact, you’re fucking insane.”

“Yeah, and I’m fucking pissed too. Hale was supposed to be an easy score— but here he is, reappearing like a god damn roach in my life. Do you know how many times I’ve tried to kill him and haven’t succeeded?”

“Then why keep trying?”

Kate laughs, “Because it’s not that easy. You stupid, foolish omega. He knots you once and knocks you up and suddenly you think you get it. Well, newsflash, you don’t. This goes beyond what he did to my family— of all the blood and the fighting our family has had. Don’t you understand? Hale— his pack— they’re all animals. They’re rabid. They’d kill everyone if they wouldn’t get taken out first.”

Stiles shakes his head, “But they haven’t tried taking anyone out—“

“That’s because my family keeps them in line— or in cages. Whatever suits our fancy. Werewolves can’t be trusted, Stiles. You could’ve been so much more if you’d never let that creature take advantage of you— if you hadn’t begged to be his bitch.”

“Says the one who begged first,” Stiles hisses.

Kate’s eyes narrow dangerously, and for a moment, Stiles can see fire dancing in her irises, “Just for that, I’ll make sure your little mongrel goes over the edge with you.”

Stiles is about to retort, to do something, but before he can even process what’s happening, Kate is charging and ramming into him. Thankfully, Stiles manages to get Isaac out of the way, his newborn son screaming in upset as the rain drenches the blanket swaddling him.

Stiles shouts as the fall pulls his stitches, and he knows by the fresh scent of copper and salt that they’ve opened. Kate seems to notice too, laughing as the front of Stiles’ gown turns black and red, water making the blood spread in inky tendrils along the strands of fabric.

“Even by human standards you’re fucking weak,” she laughs.

Stiles guttural sounds make him want to wince, pain sharp and the scent of his blood sharper. Nails dig into his forearms, breaking skin and adding to the mess.

“How does that one nursey rhyme go?” Kate grins, eyes and aura manic as she actually sings, “Rock a bye baby, from the rooftop.”

Stiles pushes against Kate, pale fingers trying to grab onto the slick leather donning her torso.

“When the wind blows, the building will rock.”

Above them, the sky is swirling and dark, matching the turmoil swarming Stiles’ gut. His nails scratch at Kate’s neck, his moves ineffective against her and he struggles to gain purchase on her. Kate’s arms are steady and strong, and she works their forms closer and closer to the edge of the rooftop.

“When the ledge breaks, the mommy will fall—“

Stiles gasps, finding Kate’s hand sinking around his neck, cutting air off long enough to shock Stiles, allowing her to shove him the last couple of inches. His head now dangerously hangs off the edge of the building. Kate takes the new position and uses it to her advantage, tilting Stiles head to get a clear view of the asphalt below.

His heart nearly stops in his chest.

“And down will go baby, Hale and all.”

He doesn’t know when it happened, but Jackson and Boyd suddenly were attacking everyone— even him. He’s bloody and wounded, trying to fend off Boyd as he surges forward, fangs bared in a snarl and claws at the ready. At the same time, Jackson swivels around, using Boyd’s advance to his advantage. He manages to get a couple of his claws dug into Derek’s side, the sensation not enough to stop Derek from side-stepping away from Boyd.

“They’re rabid!” Derek hears off from the side, and when he throws Jackson off of him in that direction, he sees Kate’s men from before suspiciously looking shocked, “They need to be put down before they kill someone!”

Derek growls, his attention spent on them long enough to allow Boyd the window he needed to tackle Derek.

“Boyd!” Derek roars, flashing his eyes at the beta and forcing his nails to dig into the other werewolf’s forearms, “Boyd, get a hold of yourself!”

Jackson rumbles from off to the side, readying himself for another leap onto Derek.

Boyd is still trying to rip Derek’s throat out when he’s suddenly going limp.

Derek throws Boyd’s heavy form off of himself, confused as to what happened when he sees Erica in the doorway, her hands currently wrapped around a tranquilizer gun.

“Look, don’t ask questions right now, I got this! Just go! I’ll catch up whenever I can!”

Derek nods her way, leaving her to face Jackson as he roars at her appearance.

After all, it’s the henchmen that were accounted for, not Kate.

The alpha runs, skipping steps as he heads towards the floor Stiles was on, only to nearly hat in his tracks. He can scent Stiles — fresh, full of fear and hurt — along with Isaac. However, it’s the other scent that is accompanying there’s that makes him want to spring out of his skin right then and there.

Kate.

Kate has Stiles and Isaac.

“Shit!” Derek growls, rushing up the steps from where Stiles’ scent tendrils down, heady with with fear and tinged with gunpowder.

This is Derek’s fault— he shouldn’t have left Stiles alone—

Water drips onto Derek’s head, and he looks up to see rainwater dripping down, a door at the top of the staircase ajar and swinging violently as they wind plays with it.

They’re— they’re on the roof.

Derek rushes forward then, ears now beginning to pick up the sounds of struggle as he nears the door.

“— and down will go baby, Hale and all—“

Derek shifts into his wolf form instantly, fangs as white the lightening overhead.

Stiles isn’t sure how it happens. All he knows is that his head is spinning from lack of oxygen and from the acknowledgement he is very likely to fall from the ledge, and now, that Derek is rushing forward to save him.

Kate dodges Derek, leaving Stiles free to look over to his son. He reaches for him, completely uncaring for the roars and shouts from beside him.

Isaac is still crying, voice strained and face a stark shade of red when Stiles cocoons him into his arms, tears rolling down his cheeks to mix with the rain drops on his pale skin.

“Oh Isaac, I’m here, don’t worry,” he coos, fingertips gentle on Isaac’s cheeks to soothe him.

Their son is cold, that much Stiles can tell. The wind isn’t helping anything, and Stiles feels helpless as he shivers alongside his son.

“You mutt!” Kate shouts, shooting her gun and making Stiles’ head shoot up to see her unloading bullets into Derek’s form, “It’s about time I put you down!”

“Derek!” Stiles shouts, voice breaking in desperation as he jolts forward.

Derek is wheezing now, lungs barely moving with all of the bullet wounds they currently have. He coughs up blood onto cement of the roof, his fur dripping with pink rainwater.

“I bet this is how your family felt, being unable to breathe with all that smoke in the air. I’ve learned my lesson though. You can’t use the same tricks twice, because an old dog will learn it.”

Without so much as a warning, Kate levels her gun at Derek’s chest one more time, firing.

It hits, the sick sound of flesh ripping and bones breaking apparent over the torrential rain and the wind. Stiles is also able to hear his heart, the cries of his son, the sick whine Derek releases as the bullet lodges itself somewhere vital in his chest.

“You’re pathetic,” Kate murmurs, “All of this— all of this bloodshed— just to put you down like the rabid family dog. But then again, you weren’t ever family to me, so I guess it makes it a little easier to shoot you in the heart. Good riddance.”

She kicks Derek’s form for good measure.

He doesn’t move.

Stiles can’t breathe. He— he just witnessed—

Derek—

“Now, what to do with you and the last Hale,” Kate smirks, turning towards Stiles.

Stiles isn’t quite looking at her. He feels like he’s a thousand miles away— that he’s watching this as a dream— a nightmare. Nothing in front of him is real and none of this is actually happening.

It can’t be.

Isaac still cries in his arms.

“It almost feels unsatisfying, this ending. It almost feels too easy,” Kate pouts, coming forward, her boots causing water to displace around her feet, “but I’ll take what I can get. Especially if I’m finally ridding the world of its monsters.”

Stiles breathes. Or tries to.

He can’t tell what his lungs are doing anymore.

She laughs at him, “Look at you, trembling and holding your boy like he’s the last thing you got left in the world. Actually, he is, isn’t he?”

“Not quite.”

Kate isn’t expecting the shot.

Erica — holy fuck — Erica is at the doorway, her own gun’s barrel smoking. Stiles stares at her— wonders how in the world she managed to get here.

“You bitch!” Kate hisses, clutching her arm from where the bullet hit it— blood wells between her fingers, “I’ll kill you!”

“Like hell you will,” Erica growls, and she fires again.

Kate drops instantly.

Stiles doesn’t look— doesn’t think he can. There’s just so much blood and death he can’t— he can’t—

“Stiles, let me see the baby.”

Stiles does as told, but silently. Weakly.

His arms open up, letting Erica take his son as he stares at the red staining his son’s blanket, his hands. Erica’s are red too as she removes the soaked fabric from Isaac’s form.

It’s too much.

“D-Derek… Kate, she— she—“

“Stiles, I need to get your baby inside,” she sounds like it pains her to prioritize.

Stiles understands. There’s no point to worry about getting Derek taken care of first.

“The baby will always come first, and it’ll never be you as my first priority.”

What an ironic thing to have said.

Hands are grabbing at him now; bodies float in and out of his line of vision. But what he’s currently fixated on is Derek’s form, on the blood sloppily running along the paths of grout in the bricks.

“Mr. Stilinski,” he hears, and he turns his head, the motion almost foreign now as he comes face to face with an older man in a white lab coat and blue scrubs, “we need to fix your stitches immediately. You need to come inside, or we’re going to have to sedate you to bring you in.”

“Save him first.”

The doctor blinks, “Mr. Stilinski, we can’t put this operation off—“

“Save him first, if you can,” Stiles whispers, “because I can’t.”

The last thing he feels is a needle going into his arm.

When Stiles wakes, the blankets surrounding him feel scratchy and heavy. The sun filtering in through the window is just a tad too bright, making him squint as he opens his eyes.

He’s blissfully unaware and confused for a few milliseconds, that is, until the reality of what happened crashes down.

“Stiles—“

Suddenly there are hands on him — Erica’s hands, Stiles realizes — rubbing up and down his arms.

“Derek— I have to—“

“Stiles, you’re in no condition to leave this room right now,” Erica hisses.

Stiles stares at her, at her blonde hair and her unwavering eyes. He stares until tears prickle his vision and his voice breaks when he finally talks.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Stiles, what—“ Erica seems genuinely confused for a few moments, but realization soon dawns on her face, making her look like she pities the omega in the bed below her, “Stiles, Derek isn’t dead.”

What?

“What?” Stiles’ voice is barely above a whisper.

“Derek’s hurt, but he’s not dead, Stiles.”

Stiles shakes his head, wincing at the soreness of his stomach but too worked up to care, “But I saw him—“

“He’s alive, Stiles. Hurt, but alive,” Erica’s hands are firm but not rough as she settles him back down against the pillows lining his back.

“Explain.”

She sighs, taking a quick second to assess something. When she confirms whatever it is she was looking for, she takes a deep breath and sits down in one of the buttermilk colored recliners beside his hospital bed.

“It’s a long story.”

“And I have time,” Stiles growls, “Erica, what happened?”

Her red acrylic nails — or what’s left of them, anyway — dig into the façade leather of the chair arms, “Derek was shot multiple times by Kate, all of which were with wolfsbane bullets. It was that nasty strain she’d been perfecting in her spare time, meaning that doctors were working with a lot of variables. Still, they managed to get all of the bullets out during emergency surgery.”

“H—How many were there?”

“Eight in total,” Erica mutters, “The last one she shot was lodged in his heart.”

Stiles brings a hand up to his mouth, tears now rolling down his cheeks.

“They saved him, Stiles,” Erica reassures, “Derek’s okay—“

“But he nearly wasn’t,” Stiles hisses, voice wavering, “He nearly died.”

“But he didn’t die.”

Stiles shakes his head, wiping at his cheeks, “I don’t expect you to get it.”

“No. No, I do,” Erica growls quietly, the sound underlying her words, “You weren’t the only one up there on that roof, Stiles. You weren’t the only one who saw what happened,” Erica reigns herself in after that, swallowing, “The point of this is that Derek’s okay. He’s unconscious still, but the doctors say he should make a full recovery. We got really lucky.”

Stiles takes a deep breath. It doesn’t really bring too much relief.

“What about— about Isaac?”

Erica smiles then, the expression somberly fond, “Is that what you guys named him?”

“Yes, but is he okay? He’s not hurt is he?”

“Oh no, he’s fine just like his dad,” Erica grins, “He was lucky in that he didn’t get sick from exposure or anything. He’s a huge sweetheart, Stiles. Even if he’d gotten sick, I’m sure more than half off the nurses here would personally try to ensure his recovery.”

Stiles smiles tightly, “Making friends from complete strangers, I see?”

“No need to get all protective. There’s— a lot went on while you and Derek were in surgery. Trust me, it’s been a press and legal nightmare that we had to take care of, but Isaac has been an amazing little tyke through it all.”

“I— I want to see him. I want to see my son.”

Erica nods, standing then, “I’ll call for him.”

She’s about to leave when something hits Stiles, and without thinking, he blurts, “Wait— Erica.”

She stops, turning towards him with her brows slightly furrowed, “Yes?”

“How did you know?” Stiles murmurs, “How did you know we needed you? That you needed to be here?”

The questions make a small smile grow on her face, “Oh, it wasn’t me who knew, Stiles.”

“Then who?”

“Me.”

Stiles nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees him— his— his dad.

“Dad, how did—“

“Derek had called. He’s been keeping up with me, you know. He told me about the situation when you went into labor. Now, it’s been a while since I’ve been on the force, but I’ve learned to trust a gut feeling, and my gut told me you and your friends would need some extra help. I’m glad I listened.”

“Me too,” Stiles whispers, voice tight, “Dad, you aren’t hurt or anything, are you?”

His father limps over, expression soft and fond, “Even when I should be asking that question, you always manage to put me first.”

“Very funny, dad,” Stiles snorts, and he watches as he takes over Erica’s old seat, “but seriously. You weren’t caught up in any of the fight?”

“No. Erica was adamant that I stay put in our hotel room. I’ll probably have to pay damage fees to replace the carpet I paced so much, but when she finally called everything was over and you and Derek were both in emergency surgery.”

Stiles shudders, “That sounds like a call I’d never want to hear.”

“It was better than a couple other variants my mind came up with, Stiles.”

The omega quiets at that for a moment, understanding, “Have— have you seen him yet?”

“Who? My grandson?”

Stiles nods.

His dad shakes his head, “No, not yet. I— I wanted to see him once you recovered. It— it didn’t feel right. Like I was jinxing something, you know?”

“Oh, I know all about jinxing.”

That makes the corner of his dad’s lips quirk, but before anything else can be said, Erica is returning with a familiar bundle in her arms.

“Guess who wants to say hello!” she coos, eyes alight as stops beside Stiles, “Say hi to daddy!”

Stiles watches, at first leaning over, and then having to look down to stare at his son. His eyes are open, still a pristine blue, but they’re unfocused and squinted. Still, that doesn’t stop a little smile from growing on his face, exposing the tip of a single little canine as he squeals.

“He nearly fanged he was so nervous. The nurses gathered a couple of your things to put in the nursery with him, so he knows your scent and Derek’s too. It was the only way he’d sleep,” Erica explains, “You don’t understand how happy he is to see you again.”

“No, I think I do,” Stiles shakes out, holding out a finger and watching as his son clasps onto it, giggling and bringing it to his mouth to mostly gum at it, “Ten fingers, ten toes?”

“Everything is accounted for.”

Stiles grins, a tear rolling down his cheek, “That’s— that’s g-good.”

Isaac chirps below him, looking so content and happy. It’s a pale comparison to how he was that day— red-faced and screeching.

“I’m never going to let anything ever hurt you again,” Stiles whispers to where only Isaac can hear.

His son smiles around his finger, and it’s then that Stiles realizes just how much of his father he’s inherited.

“God, he looks so much like Derek.”

“Well he should!” Erica laughs, “Then again, you should see his dirty diaper face. He gets this little pout going on and it was totally how you look whenever Derek makes you mad.”

From off to the side, his dad laughs knowingly.

“Hey—“

“Please, what goes around comes around, son,” his dad pats his shoulder with a grin.

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he goes back to his baby, snorting when he notices that Isaac is now using his little fingers to pull at the skin. It’s like a little massage, almost. Well, other than the fact he’s obviously a werewolf and wow—

“My son’s got a grip.”

“Yeah, it can backfire sometimes when he’s crying and doesn’t want to let go of something,” she admits, “But still, that’s few and far between. Now, if you’d excuse me, Boyd and Jackson are about to get discharged, and it’s going to be a fun experience explaining why I had to tranq them.”

Stiles waves her off, “Tell them we said hi.”

“Will do!” and she’s gone.

From off to the side, his dad whispers, “You remind me so much of your mother right now.”

It catches Stiles off guard, and he looks over to his dad who’s all teary eyed and smiling. Stiles doesn’t know what to say to that, just gets all emotional like his father while his son feels about his cuticle carefully.

It’s a fragile moment, and Stiles takes the time to appropriately appreciate that he’s allowed to experience it.

After some moments, Stiles quietly asks, “You— you want to hold him?”

His father’s eyes light up, “Oh, definitely.”

It’s a little hard, passing his son over. A small part of him panics — reminds him that last time he let go of Isaac he thought Derek was dead and he’d probably go soon after — and it’s a type of feeling he doesn’t want to plague him any further.

He’s okay now. Everything’s okay. No one is going to hurt them again.

“He’s got your nose,” his father laughs softly, and it thankfully gets Stiles back on track.

“Which means he will always be eternally cute,” he defends, “After all, this nose is a premium feature.”

His dad snorts, “Sure it is.”

“Hey— insulting your son’s looks is also insulting your grandson and yourself. Genetics, dad.”

His father rolls his eyes for good measure this time.

Stiles harrumphs for a few seconds, “Anyways, he’s precious, isn’t he?”

“Truly,” his dad brushes some of the few strands of hair Isaac has out of the way, “Has Derek seen him?”

“Yes, but— . . . That was— was before Kate came… I’d just gotten out of surgery.”

The air sours a bit, “Well, I’m sure Derek would love to see him once he wakes up.”

“W—Wakes up?”

“The strain of wolfsbane Kate used was, to say at the very least, a very potent and aggressive form. Doctors have never seen it before. Thankfully though, she had a couple of bullets on her, and when they caught her goons downstairs, they had some on them from where they had poisoned Boyd and Jackson with it. They managed to get just enough to combat the effects of it.”

“Wait— so you— you need the same wolfsbane a werewolf is poisoned with to cure them?”

“Like snakebites and anti-venom,” his dad pauses, “Why?”

“Nothing,” Stiles shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

But it’s something. It’s something— because how in the world did Derek manage to fight off Kate’s hybrid wolfsbane the first time if they didn’t use the fire versus fire method?

He’ll have to ask Erica or someone similar later.

Derek’s still recovering a few days afterwards. Stiles has spent the time interacting and taking care of their son, all the while entertaining the pack as they anxiously wait for their alpha to become conscious again. His father has been a big help though, because whenever Stiles is lost or worked up over anything, he’s quick to intervene and help Stiles ground himself.

And it’s happening a lot, actually.

Stiles doesn’t know why— he— he doesn’t mean to do it.

One moment they’ll be talking normally, and the next, Stiles will think he’ll see Kate out of the corner of his eye, or that he can hear he laugh or be walking right outside the door. He freaks out every time, panicking and fearing that she’s back to take his son and his mate away from him.

Even though she’s dead. Even though she can’t hurt them anymore.

“Mr. Stilinski,” the nurse is talking to him gently as Erica holds Isaac who had started crying, making Stiles instantly believe that Kate was close or that he was hurt— that blood was soaking his blankets and Derek’s limp form was bleeding out onto the roof again, “Mr. Stilinski, you are okay now.”

But he doesn’t feel okay. He knows he is — knows that he’s no longer got a gun at his back or a woman hissing sadistic threats into his ear about his son — but he can’t convince himself to feel differently.

“It’s called PTSD,” a doctor tells him one day, “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It develops after extremely stressful events where you felt endangered or maybe even that someone else was, that it was life or death.”

“Yeah, I’d call it that,” Stiles hisses, pacing the floor of his hospital room, uncaring for the slight soreness of his stitches, “But I don’t get it. I’m— I’m safe now. Everyone I know is safe. Why don’t I feel that way? Why is it every time my son cries or someone mentions Kate I instantly just— just panic. I should know better than that. I should feel different.”

“Mr. Stilinski, the brain is a complex and fragile thing. When we go through dangerous experiences and we know our life is threatened, sometimes that fear and distress stays long after we leave that situation. I understand that you also have prominent anxiety?”

“Yes…”

The doctor nods, “That more than likely doesn’t help… Is there anything else you’ve been experiencing? Mood swings, feelings of hopelessness and or sadness? Fatigue, a sort of numbness?”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“We would need to explore that a little further to be sure, but I believe you may also be suffering from post-partum depression.”

Stiles isn’t all too surprised, “And that is?”

“Hormones leftover from pregnancy can cause an emotional imbalance that can lead to the development of depression. It’s fairly common, and people with anxiety are prone to have depression come hand in hand with it. Either way, I’m sure with all that happened you’ve gone through quite an emotional roller coaster.”

“It has been one,” Stiles murmurs, thinking about Derek and how he wishes he’d just fucking wake up already, and how he just wants to cry about how out of depth he feels— that sometimes he himself just needs to wake up, “I’m always a little all over the place now.”

“And it can be corrected through medications and or therapy, if you wish. The PTSD will need more work, however, and I’m afraid it’s much more complicated than post-partum depression.”

“Just my luck,” Stiles grimaces.

The doctor is as courteous as ever, “Mr. Stilinski, you and your family have endured unimaginable things, and we want to insure that you all are treated with the upmost care during your stay here.”

“Good to know,” Stiles mutters, but now, he’s already looking out of the window and contemplating if there’s even a point to any of this now that Kate’s dead and Isaac is born, “Now please, if you’d excuse me.”

The doctor leaves without argument.

Derek wakes up a week and a half after the fight with Kate.

Stiles was with Isaac at the time, bathing him from where he’d spit up on himself. He’s noticing he’s not as playful with his son as he probably should be, but then again, Isaac seems to make himself content by reaching for his toes while he’s in the sink.

“Stiles—“

Stiles jumps, eyes wide as Erica rounds the corner and somewhat realizes her mistake. Erica looks extremely guilty in that moment, especially when Isaac coos in concern at the change in Stiles’ heartbeat.

Erica clears her throat, “Shit, sorry, I— I didn’t mean to… It’s just— Derek’s awake.”

“Derek’s awake?”

“Yes,” she’s already heading back into the hallway, her footwork antsy, “Look, just— finish up with Isaac and come along. He’s in room 310. I’ll tell Derek you’ll both be coming shortly.”

Stiles nods, and looks down at his son who’s still innocently playing with his toes. He tries, for Isaac. Knows he should be doing better. His son doesn’t ever seem to truly catch on to Stiles struggling not to panic or snap all the time, and now, with Derek back in action, he’s sure that coping might be a little easier.

Stiles quickly gathers himself, smiling as Isaac laughs at how sudsy his toes are, “Come on, buddy. Dad’s awake!”

Isaac makes an “ooo” sound, lips parting in a smile as the bubbles surrounding him slide down his skin.

Stiles drains the water, rinsing his son off as quickly and gently as he can. Each second feels like too much, but Stiles doesn’t want to risk hurting Isaac in a rush to see Derek. Isaac is pretty good though, and he doesn’t fuss like he usually does after Stiles dresses him once he’s dried.

He finds it ironic, in a sense— the wolf onesie Isaac is wearing.

“Your dad’s a strong wolf,” Stiles tries to put a smile on for his son, “He did a lot for us, didn’t he?”

Isaac chirps in agreement, stuffing his hand in his mouth as Stiles puts socks on his little feet.

“He’ll be absolutely ecstatic to see you,” Stiles grins softly as Isaac giggles and makes grabby hands at him, “Now, let’s go say hi to dad.”

The walk to the room they have Derek in is a sobering experience. After all, Stiles hasn’t seen Derek since that time on the roof, and he’s got some residual fear that he’s going to walk in and it’s going to be the same scene he had initially left. Isaac, however, is chipper as can be, holding onto Stiles’ shirt and smiling when anyone waves and says hi to him.

It feels so out of place considering Stiles’ nerves.

Eventually though, as Stiles stands outside of Derek’s room, Isaac notices the way Stiles is acting. He sounds concerned, making a slight noise of light distress as Stiles shakily reaches for the door handle.

“It’s okay… Daddy’s just a little worried right now.”

Isaac calms only a little, but when the door opens, he sees Erica and everyone else and is just completely unaware of Stiles’ distraught panicking. After all, when everyone says hi to Isaac, smiling and laughing, Stiles makes eye contact with Derek.

“Stiles…”

Stiles doesn’t really pay attention, but soon he’s standing in the room with just himself and Derek and their son. Isaac is looking at Derek, eyes wide and nose twitching from where he’s scenting the alpha.

“Derek… You— You’re okay.”

“Somehow, yeah,” Derek hums, and he looks at their son, “I was worried that you guys weren’t when I woke up.”

Stiles swallows, his knees feeling a little unsteady as he stands at the end of the bed, “I saw— I saw Kate shoot you… The bullet— it was the bullet that went—“

“Stiles,” Derek murmurs, “it’s over now.”

“I know it is, but— Derek, I can’t…”

The werewolf’s brows furrow, “Can’t what?”

“I can’t accept it,” Stiles comes over, and he sits down in a similar recliner to the one in his own room, wincing ever slightly at the tenderness of his abdomen, “After everything that went down… Kate, her goons and the pack, Isaac— . . . you. . . I’m having trouble dealing with it.”

“Erica mentioned you’ve been struggling to cope…”

Stiles nods, wiping at his eye with one hand as Isaac messes with his fingers again, “The doctor told me there’s a good chance that I have post-partum depression and PTSD. So yeah, I’ve definitely been struggling…”

“Stiles, I—“

“This isn’t your fault. None of it’s your fault. Stop blaming yourself for what she did,” Stiles hisses, reigning himself in when Isaac startles at his venomous tone, “What’s happening with me is a product of leftover pregnancy hormones and my brain trying to catch up with the trauma I went through. None of that is your fault.”

Derek sits up a little, and he winces at the movement. It doesn’t make Stiles feel any better.

“What— what are you going to do about it?”

“Live. Cope. Do what I can, I guess… The doctor mentioned medications and therapy… I’m thinking the latter, maybe, but I’m finding it’s harder to trust new faces nowadays.”

That makes Derek frown even further, “Would you need to talk to someone you already know, then?”

“What is there to say that they already don’t know?”

Derek sighs, “Stiles—“

“I should’ve done more, Derek… That time on the roof with Kate… I should’ve— you nearly died because of me.”

Derek shakes his head, “No. I would’ve died because of Kate.”

“Fine, but you would’ve died for me,” Stiles grimaces, and he looks down to Isaac as he spreads Stiles’ fingers apart and puts them back together again, “You would’ve died for us. That doesn’t sit well with me, considering I could’ve stopped that from happening.”

The alpha shakes his head, words sincere, “But it didn’t happen in the end.”

“Yes, it didn’t, because Erica saved you. She killed Kate, not me. I was just holding onto Isaac and staring at you because I thought you’d— you’d—“

A hand covers Stiles’, the skin below catching the few tears that fall from Stiles’ eyes. A thumb rubs along the back of his hand, trying to offer comfort in what little ways it can.

“You two are worth dying over, Stiles. I can’t look you in the eye and tell you that I would’ve done anything differently, even if it hurt you in that sense, because I would always put you two first,” Derek’s words are soft, and they make Stiles cry a little harder, “For once, it’s time you stop blaming yourself too.”

They leave the hospital shortly after Derek’s conscious. He heals much faster than Stiles, and he’s practically in full use of his faculties while Stiles still has tenderness and some pains from where his second set of stitches are healing over. Derek is adamant that Stiles not push himself because of this, so when it comes time to be discharged, Derek is naturally running around and taking care of everything while Stiles tries to entertain Isaac.

He’s a little fussy, because of course, he’s pretty aware that he’s expected to leave the hospital, and he’s not too happy with how many friends he’s apparently made. He whines at Stiles, hands grabbing at other people the entire time and his legs kicking against his arms and chest whenever they can.

Stiles’ patience wears a little thin, and it even gets to the point where Stiles has to hand off Isaac to his father to cool off in the bathroom.

Derek notices — of course he does — but he doesn’t give Stiles any grief for it. He’s apparently understanding that Stiles’ fuses are a whole lot shorter than they used to be, and that he’s still trying to figure out how to deal with what’s gone on.

Thankfully though, Derek gets everything packed up and ready to go pretty quickly, and when Stiles takes Isaac from his father, his son has calmed is okay with Stiles holding him again.

They leave easily. It’s almost humorous. All this drama and scarring and near-death experiences, and they just sign their names in the end and leave. Really, Stiles nearly tips his head back and laughs at it all.

But he doesn’t. No, he just fingers at Isaac’s blanket as he sleeps in his arms. Stays quiet. Low key anxious.

When he and Derek get in their hatchback, it feels foreign to Stiles. For all of the weeks he spent in this damned car, it seems like an entirely different part of his life. Well, he guesses, it pretty much is an entirely different part.

“What are we going to do now?” Stiles asks, glancing in the rear view mirror and the one they set up in the back to see Isaac sleeping in his car seat.

“I was guessing we’d head back to California,” Derek answers.

Stiles frowns, now looking at the werewolf, “But what about New York? About— about your gang?”

Derek sighs, hands now tightening on the steering wheel, “I think I’ve left that part of my life behind.”

“Derek, even though I know my father doesn’t approve and it’s not ideal for Isaac, you can’t just walk away outright.”

With some stubbornness, Derek mutters, “Well maybe I can. Maybe I will.”

“Derek,” Stiles exhales and rubs lightly at his face, “If you walk away right now, I’m sure the repercussions will be headache inducing. Besides, the Argent’s gang is in shambles right now. If you just upped and left this second, who knows who will take advantage.”

Derek frowns, “I didn’t even think about that…”

“Exactly, which is why I’m utterly amazing and you’d never be successful without me,” Stiles prides himself in saying, “Now, I guess that means we’re going to New York.”

“New York it is, then…”

For some reason, Scott is waiting for them at the hotel when they get to the Big Apple, finally. He’s tapping his foot against the asphalt of the parking lot, looking completely displeased and heated.

“You said an hour ago, Derek.”

“Isaac had a couple of accidents I didn’t foresee,” he rumbles.

Stiles looks between them in confusion, “Wait— you guys are talking?”

“Your father gave me his number just in case. Thought I’d give him a heads up.”

Stiles can’t help but smile, “Thanks.”

Derek smiles back, the expression soft, “You’re welcome. Now, if you’d excuse me, I have to go change Isaac. Again.”

“I told you, he pees a lot!”

Derek waves a dismissive hand as he takes Isaac to the car, all the while their son laughs at the prospect of having his dad run circles around him again. He’s definitely inherited that from Stiles.

He isn’t sorry in the slightest.

“So, it all worked out in the end.”

“Somehow,” Stiles breathes, and he looks at Scott, “Sorry I haven’t tried talking, dude. I’ve— I’ve had some hectic months recently.”

Scott quirks a brow, “So I’m hearing, man. But it’s no biggie. I get it.”

“Yeah… It’s been— interesting, to say at the very least.”

“As I can see… You’re kid, he’s uh— he’s got your nose.”

Stiles laughs, “So everyone’s been telling me.”

Scott smirks, “He’s going to be a dork his whole life.”

“Oh fight me, Scott.”

“Nah, I’m a pacifist and you know it.”

“Which is why we’re dating,” comes a voice from off to the side.

Stiles is surprised, and he looks over to see that girl from the night at the club. She regards Stiles with a soft smile, and he’s taken aback for a second by some other familiarity he sees.

“Stiles, getting onto you about Derek was hypocritical in a sense… Meet— meet Allison. Allison. . . Argent.”

Immediately Stiles is on the defensive, stepping back and glaring at the girl in front of him. From the car, Derek curses and comes forward, their son in nothing but his diaper and his t-rex shirt.

“What’s going on?”

“She’s an Argent—“

Derek growls.

“Let me explain—“

Isaac is no long humored by the situation, and starts to tear up, his little nails lengthening and gripping onto Derek instinctively.

“Guys! Guys! Calm down! I can clear this all up in seconds!” Scott in stepping in front of Allison, but she doesn’t look scared nor angry at the pairing in front of her, “Look, Allison isn’t like the other Argents, okay? She— she doesn’t agree with them. Never has.”

“I’ve always been independent from them, but I officially broke ties after the fire,” she looks between Derek and Stiles, her gaze heavy, “I’m sorry for all that my family has done to you.”

“Sorry don’t pay the bills, chicka,” Stiles grits out, “I’ve learned not to trust anything Argent.”

Derek doesn’t disagree from off to the side.

“This isn’t a rouse to bait you or do anything harmful,” she assures, and Scott actually looks somewhat fearful of them attacking, “I didn’t know about anything that went on until Scott told me. To be honest, I’m glad Kate is dead.”

Derek settles from off to the side, and he looks at Stiles, “She— she isn’t lying…”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” Stiles bares his teeth a little, a bad habit he’s picked up, he guesses, but he moves closer to Derek and Isaac, “I don’t trust her.”

“I’m not asking you to trust me. I just asking you not to kill me in the parking lot of hotel.”

Stiles grabs Isaac from Derek, their son crying and now latching onto Stiles like a lifeline, “Then I ask that you stay away. You stay away from my family and you remember that I’ll definitely kill you before you can even think of trying something.”

Scott looks helpless, “Stiles—“

“No! You weren’t the one who nearly lost their life, their mate, and their newborn all in one night to some manic bitch with a species complex!” Stiles yells, and he starts to head towards the room, “If you’ve got a problem with me trying to protect and keep my family safe, then you’re just as bad as she was.”

Stiles heads into the hotel room, frowning as he realizes he doesn’t even have the portable crib to lie Isaac down into, nor any toys to distract him with. He resolves himself to rocking his son, and trying to calm himself so that Isaac doesn’t sense anymore distress from him. It works a little, and Isaac quiets after a few moments of careful swaying.

“I wish I could sing you a lullaby, but she ruined those for me,” Stiles whispers, brushing Isaac’s hairs back gently, “She ruined a lot of things.”

Isaac makes a couple of noises before he turns towards Stiles’ chest, sniffing at the skin there and snuggling into the omega, hand balled into a fist over Stiles’ heart. The sight pulls at Stiles — makes him want to cry — because he’s done and gone through so much to just be here. Here in a somewhat ratty motel that takes vacancy and doesn’t need reservations, that Stiles is pretty sure hasn’t seen any renovations since the early nineties, and with threadbare towels that are an off-set white. It’s not much at all, but after what happened, it’s everything. It’s too much.

The door opens, and Derek comes in. He looks concerned, eying Stiles and in turn their son in his arms. He’s still rocking Isaac slowly, fighting off the tears that threaten to fall any second now.

“They left.”

“Good.”

Derek is quiet for a little bit, and he moves towards the bed Stiles is sitting on, “I’m not saying you shouldn’t be angry—“

“I love Scott, but he can be so obtuse,” Stiles hisses quietly, “I don’t care if Allison is a— a free agent— the fact she’s an Argent alone, even former, is enough to freak me out. Does he not understand that?”

“If he didn’t, he does now. I— I told him a few things… About the PTSD and the post-partum depression. He said he was sorry.”

“I guess he didn’t hear me when I said sorry doesn’t pay the bills…”

Derek sighs and sits down beside Stiles, allowing the human to lean on him and snuggle into his heat, taking it in and enjoying the fact he’s even able to do so. He takes a hand and rubs it up and down Stiles’ side, his chin resting on the omega’s head as they both watch their son drift off in Stiles’ arms.

“How in the world did we end up where we are?”

“Luck. Fate. Who knows? . . .”

Stiles hums, and he exhales softly, “I— I never would’ve thought this is how all of this would turn out… With you, with Isaac… This all feels so surreal.”

“I never thought I meet my mate or be a father,” Derek whispers, “I never thought Kate would leave me alone and that I’d have a reason to fight again.”

“I guess we all have reasons to be sort of grateful for this,” Stiles takes a fingertip and runs it along the smooth, satin-like skin of his son’s open hand, smiling as he grips onto it lightly, “Despite all of the blood and the tears, this feels— this feels like it was worth it all.”

“Yeah…” Derek says quietly, and Stiles turns to look at him.

Their eyes meet, and for a moment, Stiles feels that same kindling heat he had with Derek when they first met. It’s almost like a phantom now, though— light, just enough to register. Just enough to make Stiles’ eyes drift down to Derek’s lips before he realizes that Derek’s doing the same and that it’s— it’s too early.

“Y-You probably need to get the portable crib from the car,” Stiles ducks his head, turning away from Derek.

“Y-Yeah,” Derek stutters, taking a second to collect himself and scurry away.

The subtle heat that had been building between Stiles’ hips dissipates, leaving Stiles feeling colder than before.

But he knows this — knows that Derek knows this. Allowing that heat to grow means that you might get burned, and Stiles is in no position to deal with anymore fire and vulnerability.

No. Not when he has a choice to refrain from being scorned this time around.

“Are you going to try and talk to someone?” Derek asks honestly one morning, the question full of concern, after finding Stiles vomiting into a toilet from the nightmare that had plagued him, “You’re— you’re not getting better.”

Despite getting no answer, Derek rubbed Stiles’ back as Kate sang her nasty lullaby in his head.

Jackson and Boyd offer a lot of information about the situation going on with the Argent’s gang, information that Stiles consults Derek on and gives pointers to.

Months ago he never would’ve expected this— never would’ve expected to become Derek’s second-in-command with Isaac attached to his hip. Months ago he was just a naïve, kid-less omega who worried about his father and if he had film in his camera. Now, he worries about another Kate, about if his son is drinking his milk too fast, or if he’s ever going to be able to find a middle ground in his own mind.

He’s been broken, remade— hardened. He’s been face to face with death on multiple occasions and has lived through each time to talk about it.

But he doesn’t talk. That’s the biggest issue now. It’s killing him slowly from the inside out and he knows that Derek hates seeing him this way.

It’s the way Kate haunts his sub-conscious, waiting till he isn’t expecting her or he’s dreaming. It’s the way that he hates the smell of guns and the sounds of them firing. It’s the way thunderstorms make him and Isaac panic together and jolt at every clap of thunder.

But it’s also the way Derek supports him. It’s the way that Derek gives him space— lets him gather himself. It’s the way Derek will take Isaac just when he gets to be too much. Or it’s the way that Derek will always tell Stiles that everything’s okay and that Kate is dead and he didn’t die up there on the hospital roof.

It’s those ways that finally give Stiles the courage to finally see someone and talk.

“I’m proud of you,” Derek says after his first session, and Isaac grins and pops a bubble of spit he’d been blowing, “We’re both so proud of you.”

And that definitely makes it worth it all.

He starts to get better. He and his therapist — Deaton — work through a lot of Stiles’ issues.

Eventually he allows Allison to prove herself, and after she makes it glaringly obvious she’s not like the other Argents, she’s accepted rather easily. She’s the first addition, because after her, there’s the twins Ethan and Aiden, their computer tech Danny, and a reclusive werecoyote named Malia.

A few months after they’ve made their stay in New York more permanent, there’s a few more developments. Erica and Boyd announce they’re engaged, which— no surprise there, Scott and Allison also get engaged, which— again no surprise, and Jackson manages to bring home a strawberry blonde accountant named Lydia. Lydia becomes more and more of a member until she officially joins the pack, saying that stocks were boring anyways.

The pack grows little by little alongside Isaac, and before Stiles knows it, Isaac’s first birthday arrives. He’s giddy, already having practiced his little growls to be just like dad.

Stiles is proud of his boys, and he watches on happily as Derek and his father teach Isaac how to blow out his candles.

Afterwards, once everyone’s had cake and people have migrated towards their respective groups, Derek is helping Stiles picks up leftover plates and trash as Grandpa Stilinski shows Isaac how to apply his candle-blowing skills to bubbles.

For a few moments, Derek is silent, cleaning up alongside Stiles, that is, until he moves further down the table and bumps into the omega’s side.

“You know, you could just say hello like a normal person,” Stiles jokingly chastises.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Derek is genuinely grinning, a good look honestly, as he picks up an empty coke bottle, “Besides, have you never watched anything National Geographic does over wolves? It’s how they greet their mates in the wild.”

Stiles snorts, “Well, you may need to check yourself. Who knows, later on down the road you may just pop my hip out of place.”

“I’d rather do some much more productive with your hips.”

Stiles gapes at Derek, eyes wide as he snickers, “Derek Hale, did you just seriously flirt with me?”

“It’s not flirting. It’s being honest.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles rolls his eyes, laughing at the insanity that is now his life, “You know, first it was getting back into the business and now it’s this. You need to take it easy on me, Derek. Who knows how much more I can take.”

“Oh, I know exactly how much you can take,” the alpha purrs, slinking up to Stiles’ side.

Stiles laughs then— laughs like he hasn’t in months, “Wow, Derek. Class act right there.”

“What can I say, I’m a classy man,” he wiggles his eyebrows dramatically.

Stiles chuckles and brushes him off, “Well, a gentlemen such as yourself wouldn’t mind waiting if I asked, would you?”

In all seriousness, Derek replies with, “Of course not.”

Stiles smiles, and he goes back to cleaning up.

Allison announces she pregnant before Erica does. The blonde is a little upset, saying her reveal isn’t as dramatic now since everyone’s already been surprised with the same news a little earlier, but it’s quickly replaced with excitement once it’s all settled in.

Derek and Stiles watch as the pack flourishes, and Isaac begins to poke at Allison stomach as he tries to say baby.

“He must be excited for someone around his age,” Stiles supposes, leaning on Derek.

Derek’s hand snakes around his waist, hand resting on Stiles’ stomach, “You know, we could help with that, if you wanted.”

Stiles considers it for a moment, which is still a big step forward.

“I’d— I’d have to think about it,” he mutters, “But not right now.”

Derek doesn’t push.

A few months pass, and Stiles brings up the possibility of having more children while seeing Deaton.

“My position here is to not tell you what you need to directly do with yourself, especially in cases like this. While I can give advice, you are not required to heed anything I tell you nor will there be any repercussions for your decision from me.”

“I know that, but aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, tell me if something is ideal or not for me, considering?”

Deaton smiles, ever professional, “Stiles, you haven’t had a major flare up with your PTSD in a bit, and your reactions to your triggers have dampened. You no longer suffer from post-partum depression, and you’ve been getting a better hold of yourself in the past few months. If you decide that now is okay, that you are better, I would not be adverse with you having another child with your mate.”

Stiles bites his bottom lip in consideration, his leg bouncing up and down for a few moments, “I haven’t even gone into heat yet, Deaton. Are you sure there isn’t anything wrong?”

“An omega’s mind needs to be as healthy as their body for a heat to occur, Mr. Stilinski,” and his smile grows, “Take that as your confirmation, then. If you go into heat, then you won’t need to fear having another child with Derek.”

“Yes, but— my relationship with Derek, it’s—“ Stiles sighs, “it’s complicated at best.”

Deaton nods in understanding, “After all that you went through, I would imagine so. However, you are mates, and you already have one child. There is much more going on now than there was in the past.”

“And that’s what I’m apprehensive of,” Stiles admits, wringing his hands, “I— I don’t want anything repeating itself. I couldn’t go through any of it a second time.”

“Then it sounds like you need to be asking yourself if another pregnancy is what’s best for you, Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles gathers his things, nodding towards the man, “Thank you, Deaton.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Stilinski. I’ll see you the same time next week, like always,” as Stiles begins to leave, he calls out, “I wish you luck with your decision!”

Stiles nods in thanks and heads out the door, a lot on his mind.

“Erica, I have a question.”

Erica looks up from where she was trying to crochet herself a bonnet, “Yes, Stiles?”

“I’ve— I’ve been meaning to ask this for months, but I never got the chance to. I either forgot or the timing just wasn’t right, and— . . .” Stiles breathes in heavily, “Erica, I’m reconsidering having another kid with Derek—“

“Stiles, that’s great!” Erica is smiling brightly.

“Yes, but— I’m worried. I’m scared the past will repeat itself. If it’s not Kate Argent, it will be someone else. Someone similar. I mean, it’s not like Derek or I have walked away from the business since Kate died… Surely there’s someone else out there just as fucked up who has a score to settle.”

Erica tilts her head, her sympathy obvious, “Stiles, no one’s going to fault you for being scared. It might be a bit into the past now, but none of us have forgotten what’s happened. If that’s what you’re worried about—“

“Erica, have you ever heard of a wolf fighting off wolfsbane poisoning even if they didn’t any to counteract it with?”

Erica seems caught off guard with the subject change, but she answers nonetheless, “Uh, no. Not that I’ve known or heard of… Why?”

“When Kate captured Derek initially, that time while I was still pregnant with Isaac,” Stiles swallows, “Kate had been poisoning Derek with these different variations of wolfsbane she made herself. She thought she could make Derek go feral or something with it, but in the end, Derek came out of it with just amnesia. How— how was he able to do that if he wasn’t treated for wolfsbane poisoning?”

Erica’s lip purse in thought, “That’s— shit, that’s a very good question… You may want to ask Allison, Stiles. She’s a werewolf and wolfsbane expert, knows us and it better than we do.”

“Are you sure—“

“Yes, Stiles. Just ask her, please.”

And so Stiles does.

Allison is a little surprised, and she runs a hand along her growing bump as she thinks.

“Well, I’m not sure what Kate managed to create, but I’m certain that it wasn’t any kind deviation.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

Allison hums, “There’s one possibility. A werewolf is rigged up pretty strictly in some areas, like instincts and whatnot. You said that Kate had captured and caged you in the same room and you were hurt?”

“Yes.”

Allison nods, “Then yes, it makes more sense… A werewolf— specifically an alpha wolf— is highly protective over their mate, especially if their mate is pregnant. It could be possible that, despite the poisoning and the mental disconnect, Derek’s wolf realized you were there and you were in danger. It’s been known in certain cases that some alphas can even be on the brink of death, and if their wolf senses that their mate and or pups are in danger, it’ll kick that response into overdrive and the effects of the wolfsbane are null. It’s like a failsafe— a last-ditch fight or flight response.”

“If that’s the case, why isn’t there anymore documented occurrences?”

“Because it doesn’t happen too often. Only in cases were the alpha is truly fearful for their mate and believe they’ll die otherwise. It’s also very taxing, and if done too often, it can actually ensure death for a wolf instead of saving them last second.”

Stiles considers this for a moment, going over what Allison said. Then it hits him. His eyes go wide, and he looks at Allison.

“Derek, he— that night on the roof. He had died. I swearhe did,” Stiles breathes in heavily, “He must’ve— oh my god…”

“He beat death for you and Isaac,” Allison murmurs, “Sure, the doctors probably helped some, but a bullet full of wolfsbane to the heart isn’t exactly a light wound to heal from...”

“I’ve got to talk to him,” Stiles rushes out, and proceeds to leave Allison abruptly.

He looks all over the pack house, trying to find Derek and ask him if what Allison said was true. If he had actually died for him and Isaac like he said he would.

“Derek!?”

Stiles rushes into his room, finding the alpha jumping up from his desk, reading glasses now askew on the bridge of his nose.

“What’s going on? Did something go wrong? Is Isaac okay?”

Stiles rushes forward then, breathing harshly as he sees the alpha truly for the first time in months. A year, even.

“I— that night on the roof,” Stiles gets out, hands shaking, “You— you should’ve died. You weren’t supposed to make it.”

“What?”

“The wolfsbane. I— it’s all a long story, too long for right now, but you weren’t meant to die on that roof,” Stiles begins to cry, pulling at Derek’s shirt, “I— I need to see, Derek—“

Derek looks utterly confused, but he removes the shirt as requested. On his chest is a multitude of scars— scars that Stiles doesn’t remember from before.

Stiles runs his fingertips down the tissue, shivering, “Derek— Derek, oh my god—“

“Stiles, I don’t—“

“Kate meant to kill you, and she nearly did. You almost died up there on the roof. I— I felt it, and I thought I knew— . . . Derek, I think the reason I was so off kilter was for the fact you were supposed to die, but you didn’t.”

Derek furrows his brow, “I get that, but what do you mean, Stiles?”

“It’s like a bad car crash, okay? There’s nothing but twisted metal, and you just look at the carnage and say, ‘there’s no possible way no one made it out of that,’ but then a miracle occurs and suddenly you find out no one died… You— I saw you. I saw the bullets and the blood and I thought, ‘there’s no possible way he can make it,’ because there wasn’t supposed to be… She— she shot you in the heart, Derek, that alone should’ve killed you.”

“But it didn’t…”

“Because your wolf wouldn’t let it happen, because you didn’t want it to. You told me you’d die if you have to— that we’re worth dying over— but you didn’t want to leave…”

“Never,” Derek whispers, pulling Stiles close, “I never wanted to leave.”

“And you didn’t,” Stiles whispers back, happy tears going down his face, “Oh my god, you didn’t and I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to realize just how much you went through to come back to us.”

“I told you I’d never leave again,” Derek rumbles, and that’s when Stiles notices Derek’s nosing along the length of his jawline, “Not if I had a say in it.”

Stiles tries not to whine, but fails a little when he feels Derek’s hands close in on his hips. It’s been so long since he’s had the alpha touch him like this— not since— not since—

No. Stiles is going to let himself enjoy this. He’s not going to reminisce and freak out.

He rolls his hips lightly against Derek’s, feeling a familiar stirring against the cheeks of his ass as Derek growls and thrusts lightly up against him.

“I found your camera the other day,” he smiles knowingly when Stiles blushes, “I must say, I’ve got a good eye.”

“I’ve always meant to delete those,” Stiles mumbles.

“Now that’s a lie,” Derek smirks, and he kisses Stiles on the lips, “Red is absolutely your color.”

Stiles lets Derek’s tongue in, and his fingers move through the locks of Derek’s hair hungrily. After a few moments of Derek sucking at Stiles’ bottom lip, Stiles pulls back to breathe.

“I’ve been thinking about what you’ve said— about giving Isaac a sibling,” Stiles murmurs, and Derek eyes him widely, “Deaton told me I’d know for sure if I went into heat, but— I don’t think I’ll need it to make my decision now.”

Derek rumbles, the sound a mixture of hunger and contentment, “Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Stiles exhales, “I— I think I’m better. I don’t feel like I used to…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to feel like that one time in the park a year ago?” Derek asks boldly, thrusting up against Stiles’ ass.

Stiles shudders, forehead resting in the crook of Derek’s neck, “In all seriousness, Derek.”

“I know in all seriousness, and I’m so happy— I really am,” Derek assures, kissing the side of Stiles’ neck, making the omega expose more and more of it to him, “but Christ, Stiles, do you know how long since it’s been since you and I have gotten to remotely do this one another?”

“I do…”

Derek growls lightly, fangs jokily pressing against Stiles’ throat, “It’s like missing a part of myself, when I didn’t get to do this. I— I felt like I fucked up so badly that I’d always feel incomplete.”

“I needed time, Derek.”

“I know, and I gave it to you… This is— this is just a lot for my wolf, Stiles. I wasn’t expecting you to be okay with anything like this by today.”

Stiles pulls back, “And how long were you willing to wait?”

“For as long as it took for you to realize that I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Stiles exhales and closes his eyes. He leans his forehead against Derek’s and tries to breathe for a moment.

“For such a big, bad wolf, I surely have you by the balls, don’t I?”

“You’ve caught me in a moment of vulnerability,” Derek smiles, and he kisses Stiles one more time, “Now… about Isaac’s sibling.”

“You sly dog,” Stiles jokes, and they fall back into the sheets together.

“Baby,” Isaac chirps happily, pointing towards Stiles’ small but noticeable bump.

“Yes, Isaac. Baby,” Stiles repeats, and Derek is beaming beside him, “They’re your sibling.”

“And they’re your cousin too. By law. Or dictation,” Scott explains, holding his daughter, Belle, by Stiles, “Whatever, y’all are cousins.”

Stiles laughs at Scott while Erica groans in the background. Her son, Colin, is currently climbing into the Christmas tree.

“You know, I’m kinda glad that we never made anything that hyperactive,” Stiles jokes at Derek, and the alpha snorts.

“Heard that!” Erica grouches.

They both laugh.

Isaac hums and puts his ear to Stiles’ bump, “Hear. I h-hear.”

Derek grins, “Yes, Isaac, that’s their heartbeat.”

Isaac makes an “ooo” noise again, and it reminds Stiles of when he was just an unaware, little infant encroaching on the world. Now he’s a little over a year and a half old, with a little mop of curls and Derek’s bunny teeth.

“Now I’m glad we made that,” Stiles grins, looking at Derek as he rubs his bump, “and this one too.”

“We’re professional baby makers,” Derek jokes lightly, kissing Stiles on the cheek as Isaac squeals and tells Stiles’ belly that he loves it, “See? Isaac’s appreciating our hard work.”

Stiles laughs, and laughs even harder when Belle spits up on Scott’s face.

Yeah, Stiles thinks, feeling whole in a way that he never has before, definitely worth it.