Chapter Text
“Why is Chris holding a baby?” The question left Stiles’ mouth without conscious thought as he stepped into the loft, drawn by Derek’s text from earlier that morning.
Chris was, indeed, holding a baby. A crying, snot-covered baby, whose red face made it clear that it had been crying for some time now. He was speaking to it in low, soothing tones and bouncing slightly, but that didn’t seem to be working.
Derek and Scott stood off to the side by the kitchen, looking uncomfortable, while Peter was seated on the stairs with an unreadable look on his face, his eyes darting around the loft like he was planning an escape at any moment.
“Oh, for the love of god,” Stiles exclaimed, shaking his head at the others in the room and strolling towards Chris and the baby with purpose. He held out his arms and Chris handed him the small bundle gratefully.
“What supplies do we have?” Stiles looked around for a diaper bag and found nothing.
“Supplies?” Chris rasped, taking a step back to put some space between himself and the baby.
Stiles sighed and looked down, only to be met with the biggest green eyes he’d ever seen. He ran his hand over the baby’s head soothingly and found that the white-blonde hair was matted with sweat. “He’s overheated,” Stiles scolded.
“She,” Chris said, correcting him. “It’s a girl.”
Stiles just nodded and gently removed the blanket from around her body, freeing her arms and legs. He laid her down on Derek’s coffee table momentarily to rid her of her yellow and green onesie, until she was left in just her diaper.
He picked her back up and used the blanket to mop up a little sweat that was sticking to certain parts of her body.
“There,” he said softly, tossing the blanket aside and bouncing. “Isn’t that better? Oh, look at you! You are just the cutest thing on two legs, aren’t you?”
The baby started to settle after that, her cries turning into soft whimpers, until she gave into her lethargy and fell asleep in Stiles’ arms. Not wanting to risk waking her by trying to put her down, Stiles just continued to hold her.
“Anyone mind telling me why there’s a baby here?” Stiles asked the room in a low tone.
“Hunters,” Chris replied gruffly. “I led a team to take down a group of rogue hunters who had attacked a peaceful pack in Nevada. We raided their headquarters and found her in one of the rooms, alone. We don’t know what her name is or where she came from, but we do know she’s a werewolf.”
Stiles pulled the girl into his chest tightly, as if trying to retroactively protect her from what she had been through.
“We’re going through their records now to see if we can find out her identity.”
“Why take her here, though?” Scott asked, stepping back into the living room now that the baby had stopped crying.
Chris frowned. “I trust the team I was with to help me take care of rogue hunters, but they’re still not… open minded enough for me to trust them with the care of a baby omega.”
Peter scoffed, the first sound he’d made since Chris had arrived with the kid.
“Well, what are we supposed to do with it?” Scott asked. “It’s not like we can call Family Services, and none of us have any experience taking care of a baby werewolf.”
Stiles made an aborted gesture to get Scott to stop talking. The beta raised his eyebrows in question, but went silent.
Derek and Chris exchanged a look before glancing at Peter, who had gone rigid.
“No,” Peter said. “Absolutely not.”
He stood up and began pacing the loft agitatedly, his posture screaming anger.
“I would volunteer to take care of her myself while we look for her family,” Chris said, “but a lot of my contacts are going to want to meet in person, and I don’t feel comfortable bringing a baby with me to these meetings. I’ll help, of course, but I also don’t know the first thing about werewolf babies.”
“I’ll do it,” Stiles said firmly. “I can watch her.”
“No, you can’t,” Scott refuted. “We’ve got a month left before graduation, and you can’t miss finals.”
Stiles sighed. “What choice do we have, Scott? Derek’s terrified of the thing, look at him.”
They turned their eyes to Derek, who was wearing an expression of horror at the thought of taking care of a baby for any time period at all.
“What about – ,” he gestured to Peter, but was cut off by Stiles.
“No, Scott.”
“But, why n – ,”
“Just, no, Scott, leave it alone,” Stiles implored him with pleading eyes.
Peter stopped pacing and sighed loudly. “Stiles, as much as I appreciate you trying to spare my feelings, I don’t think Scott is quite getting your subtle hints.” He turned towards Scott with a blank face. “I had a son, Scott. Before the fire.”
Scott’s mouth shut with a click.
“So,” he continued, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb. “Give her here.” He approached Stiles with outstretched hands.
“Are you sure?” Stiles asked him delicately, handing the baby over without hesitation.
“Well, I’m not going to leave her in the hands of Christopher’s merry band of hunters, and Scott is right, you need to finish school. I can watch her for a while.” Peter’s face softened when he looked down at the sleeping bundle in his arms.
“I’ll come over after school every day and help,” Stiles vowed. “This is a lot for you to take on yourself.”
Peter just nodded gratefully, his eyes not leaving the baby’s face.
Chris cleared his throat and walked towards the door. “I’ll go pick up some things you’ll need for her.”
Peter nodded again and sat down on the couch, breathing in and out slowly.
Derek disappeared upstairs, and Scott left to study for finals, leaving Stiles and Peter alone in the living room.
Stiles took a seat on the opposite side of the couch from Peter and the baby.
“You don’t have to do this, Peter. I can work out a schedule with Chris. He can watch her in the mornings and early afternoons while I’m at school and he can meet with his contacts after I’ve gotten home.”
Peter just shook his head. “Chris is right. He doesn’t know anything about taking care of a pup.”
Stiles scooted closer, looking down at the sleeping girl with a smile. “Is it much different than taking care of a human baby?”
“Not too different,” Peter said after a moment. “They eat more, and grow faster. Their milestones are accelerated, as well. I would guess this little one is about six months old. She’s a little malnourished, which leads me to believe her captors didn’t give her any solid foods while she was with them.” He growled out the last sentence, his eyes flashing blue.
“What should we call her?” Stiles asked quietly after a few minutes of silence.
Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s not like we’re keeping her, Stiles.”
“Duh,” Stiles retorted. “But we can’t just call her ‘the baby,’ the whole time she’s with us, can we?”
Peter’s eyebrows conceded that point. “How about Olivia?”
“Olivia?”
“It was my mother’s middle name,” Peter confessed at a whisper. “I always thought it was nice.”
Stiles beamed. “Olivia it is.” He ran a hand over the baby’s head softly. “You like that? Little Olivia.”
She smiled in her sleep, which Peter and Stiles took as a confirmation.