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Derek isn't the one who finds it first. Cora comes into the loft one day, hair soaked from the downpour outside, and announces, "There's a cat hiding in the bushes."
As a rule, Derek definitely does not care about cats. Especially stray cats, infected with diseases, and stealing old Chinese takeout from his dumpster.
But it's raining, hard. Really hard. And even if Derek doesn't care about cats, he knows enough about them to know that they hate the rain. And anyway, he knows someone who owns an animal shelter, it's not like it'd be some huge inconvenience to just drive it to Deaton's.
The plan does not go as expected.
He manages to get himself soaked through his jeans and Henley looking for the particular bush that Cora had seen the cat under. There's no sign of any animal, at all, just him rifling through the plants like a crazy person.
Just when Derek's ready to leave, to turn tail and stomp upstairs, he catches sight of two eyes. Big, glowing green orbs hidden behind sticks and leaves, peering at him unblinkingly from the ground.
He reaches for it blindly, and there's a flash of orange and white fur, before a bush farther away rustles in accommodation. The cat does not want to be caught.
Fine.
Derek is wet and annoyed and if the cat would rather drown to death in the parking lot than go spend a nice night at a comfortable animal clinic, that's its own problem. He's not wasting his time trying to save someone that doesn't want to be saved.
He turns to go, rolling his eyes and stomping back through the door and up the steps.
He's opening the door to his loft when he realizes he's not alone in the hallway.
The cat is actually a kitten. Impossibly small, no bigger than the palm of his hand. When Derek turns his head to look at it, it wiggles its butt ridiculously, and scoots backwards, further down the hallway. He raises an eyebrow. "I don't appreciate being followed."
The kitten just blinks at him.
Derek moves forward again to grab the thing, but it's faster than he expects. It runs straight past him, little body speeding through the open door of his apartment and disappearing.
Derek groans. There's a stray kitten in his home. It's probably going to pee on all of his furniture.
The shower's going when he steps inside, meaning Cora's not going to be any help. He shuts the steel door behind himself and shakes some of the water out of his hair.
It isn't hiding under the couch, or the table, or the bookshelf, or any other cat sort of place. He checks upstairs, even though it looked way too small to climb the steps on its own, but it isn't there, either. There is a wet kitten hiding somewhere in his house and he has no idea where.
The thought of finding it days later, dead somewhere, makes Derek feel immobilized. He doesn't need anyone else dying in his house.
That's when his pillow meows at him.
Derek takes a few cautious steps forward, eyebrows raised, and sighs- in annoyance or relief, it's hard to tell- when he finally catches sight of it in his bed. Little body tucked underneath the blanket, just the head and front paws sticking out. Watching him like a damn hawk.
When he goes to take another step forward, to grab it and get it over with, it scoots back farther under the blanket.
Derek sits down.
"I'm not gonna hurt you."
Blink blink.
"This is my house."
Blink.
He huffs and rubs a hand over his face. They barely have any food in the house period, but definitely nothing that a kitten can eat. And offering it food is probably the best bet he has at getting it to come anywhere near him.
There's a pet store down the road, but it's late, and they're probably closed. And anyway, he doesn't wanna leave it alone and have Cora come out of the shower and scare it into a new hiding spot.
The kitten meows again, louder this time, and wiggles.
Derek sighs and drags his phone out of his pocket.
To Scott McCall: Bring me cat food from work.
From Scott McCall: Why?
To Scott McCall: Now.
He shoves the phone back in his pocket and goes back to staring at the cat. Scott will bring the food.
The little animal yawns- Derek didn't know that cats even did that- so wide that he can see all the way down its throat, and all the little rows of tiny baby fangs. It shakes a little, before putting its head down on its paws, and settling in for what appears to be a nap.
Derek doesn't look away.
A few minutes later, when Cora appears, she raises an eyebrow at both of them.
"New friend?"
"Shut up."
Her tone is incredibly judgmental when she mutters, "You're a freak, Derek."
Whatever. Not wanting a cat to die is not a crime.
--
Scott arrives twenty minutes later. Stiles is with him, which doesn't surprise Derek anymore. The two of them are practically conjoined twins.
"Here." Scott shoves a plastic baggie of cat food- orange and brown and shaped like stars- at his chest. "You gonna tell me what this is about now?"
"Derek has a cat." Cora calls from where she's curled up on the couch watching The Voice.
Derek huffs and stomps towards the bed.
"A cat? I always pictured you more of a poisonous frog kind of person." Stiles follows after him, too close, and Derek would hit him, maybe, if he didn't have more important feline-related things to worry about.
"Shut up," is what he does manage, sitting back down in the chair next to his bed. The noise has woken the cat up, and its peering at him again from under the blanket.
"Awwww, look, it's lurking in the shadows, just like daddy."
"Shut up. And don't stand that close, you're gonna freak it out."
With Scott and Stiles standing behind him, Derek shakes the food bag a little. The little thing's ears perk up considerably, and it wiggles forward on its belly, looking considerate. He does it again and it moves closer.
"What's her name?"
Derek glances at Scott over his shoulder and frowns, looking back at the cat. "How do you know it's a girl?"
"Boy cats and girl cats smell different."
Oh. Derek shrugs, and reaches a hand into the bag, taking out a few pieces of food, that he places on the bed, making a little trail, leading up to the edge. "She doesn't have a name."
"What? Everyone needs a name." Stiles protests, leaning forward so that his face is nearly pressed to Derek's cheek. "That's like, animal cruelty."
"You name her then." Is what he mumbles in response, watching as the little thing crawls cautiously forward, nosing at the food and then eating it. She manages to get all the way to the edge of the bed, where she eats the last piece of food- then turns and darts back under the blanket.
Derek sighs, and Stiles snorts. Scott mutters, "I don't think your cat likes you very much."
"Shut up. You can both go home now."
"No way, man. I have to name your cat, remember?"
They both settle down on the floor on either side of the chair, watching Derek with the unnamed kitten, like it's the most interesting thing they've seen all day. He feels like a zoo animal on display or something.
It's not a nice feeling.
Still, he remakes the little trail from her blanket fort to the edge of the bed. This time he leaves a piece of food in his hand, balanced just off the edge. Close enough that she could lean out and get it.
Her eyes dart nervously between Scott and Stiles when she slinks out, and he finds himself muttering, "It's cool, they're dumb, but harmless," to which both boys scoff in protest. Still, she follows the trail again.
When she reaches the end, she sniffs at his hand, at the food in it, entirely unsure, before leaning forward and snatching it up with her teeth. While she's chewing, Derek slowly runs his thumb over the top of her head, behind her ear. The pet seems to startle her, and she glares at him for a second, but doesn't pull away. Just finishes her food, before turning around and going back under the blanket, a little slower this time.
"Ivy."
"What?"
"Ivy. You know, like Poison Ivy. DC Comics? She's got the pretty redhead thing going for her." Stiles turns his head up, towards Derek, and grins.
Derek huffs, and looks away, back at the cat still staring at him from underneath his blanket.
He has a cat now.
And her name is Ivy.