Chapter Text
He hadn’t even noticed it happening.
Which, wow, did that say a lot about the crazy that was their lives; that he’d become a pseudo-parent to two-dozen supernatural twenty-somethings and hadn’t even noticed. When he’d left after the Alpha Pack, he really had no idea how bad it’d be. Hadn’t realized he needed to be here as much as he had. All it took was a single text and he found himself back in Beacon Hills.
‘My dad’s dead.’
Derek glanced up at Stiles, who was admonishing Erica for trying to snag a cookie fresh out of the oven. The young man had a hand on one hip and a spatula in the other raised like a weapon. Erica had a small smirk on her face, but was wise enough to sound contrite when she whined out, “Ah, come on Mom!”
“These are for Liam for passing his Chem exam, don’t make me put you in time out, Catwoman.”
Derek smiled fondly at the scene, it’d been so close with Erica and Boyd, with Allison. So very, very close. If Stiles and Deaton hadn’t been able to figure out how to trick the Alpha Pack into thinking he’d killed them…if Lydia hadn’t screamed for Allison and Aidan right when she did, he’d have never forgiven himself. It was bad enough that Stiles had to deal with VOID for so long, but loosing a third of the Pack would have killed them both.
VOID. What a clusterfuck that had been. Derek watched as Stiles’ eyes flickered yellow for a second and then disappeared. Noshiko had tried to get them to kill the nogitsune, but then Deaton had found a single line half faded on the back of the Shugendō Scroll that spoke of the need for the shadow and spark of desire to be one. To integrate. Of course, it was Stiles who figured out that for every Spark there was a matching nogitsune. One that was born early enough that it could become as powerful as its other half. That had been a mind-trip for the Pack - the fact that Stiles’ Spark was as powerful as a 1000-year-old chaos fox spirit. Stiles had just shaken his head and said ‘no way’. It didn’t stop him from plotting though.
He changed tactics after that. Stopped fighting VOID and started rummaging around in the fox’s memories. You can’t be a fox and a wolf, but you can be a fox and a Spark. Scott’s bite didn’t turn Stiles into a wolf, because the bite just helps to manifest what is innately inside a person and Stiles had always been more sneaky craftiness of a fox than the strength of a Pack. The bite turned him into a fox, and as a fox, he could integrate the two halves of his powers. The darkness and the light. The shadow and the flame. The will and the way.
It had taken days of the Pack pacing back and forth in front of the old Bank Vault they’d found Cora in, and Derek had snarled and snapped at anyone getting too close to the door they’d locked Stiles behind. Derek could hear him, smell him, as the change ripped through Stiles. It wasn’t pretty, or easy, and Derek had put more than a few holes in the Bank’s walls when it had gotten really bad, but Stiles had made him promise to let him do it alone. He had to do it alone, or it wouldn’t work.
Derek had pressed their foreheads together, staring into Stiles’ eyes as they flickered between warm honey brown, midnight black, and luminescent yellow.
“I need you to trust me, Der,” the teen had whispered.
“Always, you know that.”
“Then let me do this. I have to do this myself.”
“I can’t lose you, Sti,” he’d whispered back, voice so faint even the other weres couldn’t hear them.
“You won’t.”
“I hate this.”
Stiles had huffed a little chuckle against his lips, “I know.”
“You can’t leave me with those idiots,” he’d grumbled, eyes flashing arctic blue as the sounds of Scott and Jackson arguing became louder. “You have to come back to me.”
Stiles had stared at him for a long moment, then gently brushed their lips together, “I will always come back to you, Derek.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Then he’d walked into the vault and Derek had watched as the door shut and felt like his entire world had been turned upside down. He couldn’t think about the barely-there-kiss. Couldn’t think about what would happen if Stiles failed, because Stiles couldn’t fail. He couldn’t. Derek had refused to believe that the young man who had helped kill Kate and Peter and saved their Pack over and over again would lose to a voice in his head. Stiles was stronger than that.
He had to be or Derek didn’t think he’d survive.
Five-days later Stiles had emerged exhausted, more than a bit bloody, and whole. He’d stumbled out of the Vault and right into Derek’s arms and the wolf had pressed their lips together in a desperate need to feel that Stiles was still alive. That he’d be okay now. That they’d all be okay.
Stiles had sighed softly and buried himself in Derek’s embrace, “Tadaima.”
‘I’m home’, Derek translated in his head, a soft smile on his lips as he’d brushed them across Stiles’ temple, his wolf rumbling lowly in his chest.
“Okaeri,” he’d mumbled back, thankful Japanese was one of the languages he spoke to some extent.
He’d felt Stiles’ lips curl up in a smile at his ‘welcome home’, his breath warm on Derek’s throat before Stiles licked across the pulse point, a faint purring reverberating in the teen’s chest.
“We’ve got some stuff to talk about,” Stiles had muttered softly.
“I know,” Derek replied.
“But first, curly fries?”
Derek had barked out a laugh and held him closer. “Yeah, we can get curly fries.”
“Awesome.”
That had been almost six years ago, now.
With Noah dead, Stiles had moved in with Derek and Isaac at the loft while the new Pack house was being built. There were nightmares of course. They all had them. Too much death and destruction. Too much heartache. When the Dread Doctors and the Wild Hunt showed up, Scott had pulled him aside and asked if there was a way to give Derek his Alpha spark. Derek had been shocked and more than a bit afraid, but Scott had, for once, been completely logical in his arguments.
“I can’t make the hard choices,” he’d said, scuffing the toe of his sneaker in the dirt. “Stiles can. You can. The two of you put this Pack before everything else, even your own safety and happiness. I trusted Theo and Stiles almost died, again. If he hadn’t been training with Deaton and you with his new powers, Donovan would have killed him. I can’t lose him.”
“Stiles doesn’t blame you for Donovan or Theo, Scott.”
Scott scrunched up his nose like he’d bitten into a lemon. “I blame me for Donovan and Theo. Stiles told me there was something wrong with them and I didn’t listen.” He suddenly straightened, head coming up so he could look Derek right in the eyes.
“If he wasn’t a fox, we would have lost him to the Dread Doctors and if the two of you didn’t have a mate bond, we would have lost him to the Wild Hunt. I refuse to lose anyone in this Pack just because I can’t get over killing. I know you kinda sucked in the beginning, but you’ve been great these past few months. You and Stiles run the Pack more than I do anyways and having the Alpha powers just makes controlling my wolf even harder.” He’d taken a shaky breath and gave Derek a crooked smile. “I really need you to do this, Derek, I can’t control my wolf and lead, it’s just too much.”
Derek had clasped his forearms in a brotherly display of affection. “You’re doing fine, Scott. Being an Alpha is hard, but…”
“Derek,” the younger man cut him off, “I don’t want to lead. I only got these abilities because I refused to let my friends die, but that’s not enough to keep them. I don’t want to keep them. Please, man, you’re the only one I trust with them.”
“I wasn’t a good Alpha, Scott.”
“No, you weren’t,” Scott agreed. “But you also had like zero experience and things kept trying to eat us, not to mention it was tainted by Peter’s crazy. It’s different now. You are different now and you’ve got Stiles, who will totally kick your ass if you go batshit-Alpha on us again.”
Scott gave him a small smile. “I trust you, Derek. You’ll be a good Alpha.”
Derek had sucked in a sharp breath. Their relationship had been a hell of a lot better since they’d beaten VOID, but this was the first time Scott had ever verbally expressed his trust. It settled something in Derek that had always been a bit on edge around the younger man.
“Okay.”
Scott gave him a blinding smile, “Okay.”
Things got better after that. Within the year, Stiles, Lydia, and Deaton had figured out how to cleanse the Nemeton and start its regrowth. Within two, the number of supernatural attacks had dropped off to once or twice every few months. Beacon Hills was starting to become stable. The original Pack graduated high school and headed off for college and trade school, leaving just the younger betas, Derek and Stiles behind in the new Hale Pack House.
They’d rebuilt bigger and better than before.
Stiles had elected not to go into law enforcement. He didn’t think putting himself in positions where his PTSD would be triggered would be the smartest decision. Instead, he took courses online in Herbology and Criminology. He didn’t want to be a cop, but he did want the legal experience to help write up Pack contracts and treaties and work towards solving supernatural crimes. He focused on his magic and, with Kira, Malia and Danny’s help, set-up a supernatural consulting firm online. He and Danny worked on the computer and magic side and Kira and Malia handled the on-site issues. Sometimes Cora and Derek went with if things were bad enough. No one really wanted to get involved in something so messy Stiles needed to go, but on occasion, he did and those cases were always the worst.
Isaac went into social work and Erica into nursing, both wanted to give back so that others never lived through what they had. Scott took over for Deaton after veterinary school. Allison and Chris ran Argent Arms and created a Hunter’s Council to police rouge hunters so another Monroe incident didn’t occur, while Peter and Jackson ran the Pack’s Law firm. Ethan and Aidan had elected to go to Satomi’s Pack after everything. Jackson and Ethan had tried to stay together, but by sophomore year of college, they had ended things on good terms. It surprised no one when Danny let it slip at dinner one night that he and Jackson had gotten together.
Lydia, of course, had gone to MIT. She was at Oxford working on her PhD at the moment. She wasn’t sure what she’d do afterwards, but she had offers from several of the National Labs and might do that for a few years. It didn’t matter, she was still Pack. Boyd and Derek had really gotten involved in the building the Pack House. Boyd had decided to go the apprenticeship route as a general contractor while Derek finished off his degree in Architecture online. They had partnered up with some other supernaturals from the surrounding areas and created their own contracting firm. Liam worked part-time with them, as did Kira and Malia when they weren’t on a job for Stiles.
Mason and Corey had gone to the Police Academy after high school and were now Deputies under Sheriff Jordan Parrish. The Hellhound still wasn’t officially Pack, but if the last few times Lydia had visited were anything to go by, it wouldn’t be long until that changed.
They had a few new faces as well.
Alicia, was Erica and Boyd’s three-year old daughter. Niko was Scott and Kira’s seven-month-old son. Tyler was a 14-year-old witch Isaac and Cora had adopted. Sebastian and Cassandra were a pair of mated omegas they’d allowed in almost a year ago. They ran a coffee shop in town that Tyler worked in after school. They were in their late sixties and had lost their Pack to Monroe’s people. When they’d heard about how the Hale Pack had taken the Hunter Army down, they’d made their way West. It’d taken them a while, but they were happy now, settled, and with Melissa, Peter and Chris, had become the Pack Grandparents.
Evenings were spent around the Pack House with laughter cutting through cartoons, the smell of home cooked meals and grumbling over benign issues like taxes and bills, homework help, coloring books, and tripping over Legos in the dark. The shriek of a child’s bright laugh as a naked werebaby ran through the house trailing bubbles while exasperated parents chased after them. The low murmur of voices reviewing this or that from the library or office.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Long, pale hands dotted with moles slid over Derek’s shoulders and chest as Stiles settled against his back; the slightly upturned nose, nuzzling against his jaw. Derek closed his eyes, one hand sliding over to grasp Stiles’ hand while the other placed the half-empty cup of coffee on the table.
He gave a soft, contented sigh, “How did we get this lucky?” he rumbled.
“You mean being the parents of this crazy Pack?”
“Hm,” Derek murmured.
“Probably when we finally put all our differences aside and actually started acting like a Pack.”
Derek turned his head just enough to catch Stiles’ lips with his own. The kiss more about comfort than anything else.
“So, because of you,” the older man said.
“No,” Stiles replied softly, “because of all of us. We wanted this to work and we fought for it and now we have this Pack of nut-jobs and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“I love you,” Derek said.
“I know.”
Derek snorted, nipping at the full bottom lip of his mate. “Always with the Star Wars,” he grumbled fondly.
Stiles giggled as he kissed Derek again. “I love you too,” he breathed across his lips. “Always have, always will. You complete me.”
Derek turned, and in one smooth movement, pulled Stiles against his chest and stood. The fox wrapped his long legs around Derek’s waist and his arms around his broad shoulders.
“Sap,” he smirked into the kiss.
“Still true.”
“I knew that day in the woods,” Derek muttered as he made their way upstairs, “I barely saw Scott. I saw you, with those damn Bambi eyes of yours and smelled your scent, rain and ozone, and my wolf tried to jump out of my damn chest. And then you crawled into the police cruiser and all I wanted to do was kiss you until you shut the hell up. Still do most days.”
“Rude!” Stiles sputtered indignantly.
Derek reached around him and opened the door to their room, kicking it closed behind them. He kissed Stiles once, then tossed the younger man onto their bed, following him down until his larger body was pressing Stiles into the softness of the sheets.
“But accurate.”
“So much has happened,” Stiles said quietly, his fingers playing with the ends of Derek’s hair. “But I think I knew that day as well. I just couldn’t stop staring at you and even when we weren’t friends. When I was terrified of what could happen, I trusted you. There was no reason to, but I did. Every time you threw me up against something all I thought about was how close we were. How easy it would be to lean just a bit further and kiss you.” He chuckled, “you were my bi-awakening for sure.”
Derek snorted, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation. “I thought you hated me most of the time.”
“Yeah, well, we both sucked at communication, and I was trying not to lose my shit at finding out monsters were real.”
“And I hated myself and the rest of the world.”
“We’ve grown up a lot since then,” Stiles said sagely.
“We have,” Derek agreed.
“We’re practically parents.”
Derek narrowed his eyes at the hesitancy in Stiles’ voice. Slowly he nodded his head, “We are.”
“So, what if I were to want to make that official?”
“We’re already mated, Sti.”
“But we weren’t parents. Officially, I mean.”
Derek sucked in a quick breath, his eyes going wide. “What are you saying, Stiles?”
“Lydia found a journal in the Oxford archives. It belonged to a Spark who had integrated. The journal talks about how if the Spark wants something badly enough, if they believe strong enough, that even the impossible is possible.”
“Stiles, I don’t under…”
Stiles took one of Derek’s hands and slid it over his abdomen. “Listen.”
Derek went absolutely still. There, very, very faintly he heard a subtle swish. Then again. How the hell he’d missed it, he had no clue.
“When?”
“The last full moon. I only heard it a few days ago. I didn’t want to say anything in case it didn’t work.”
“But it did.”
Stiles gave him a hesitant smile. “It did. Are you…I mean, we talked about adopting but…”
Derek’s fingers ghosted over the pale expanse of his mate’s stomach, feather light as he listened to the tiny life within. So fragile.
“I don’t know why I’m so surprised,” Derek said breathlessly, humor and awe tinting his words. “You always do the unexpected.” When he glanced up, his eyes were Alpha red and shimmering with unshed tears.
Stiles’ breath exploded from behind his teeth as Derek surged forward, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss, his hand splayed protectively across Stiles’ and their unborn child.
“My beautiful mate,” Derek growled. “My love.”
Stiles sighed as Derek licked into his mouth. Their bond was singing in his chest. So full of love and joy. He felt the faintest jingle against it as another thread slowly joined it. A dainty, feminine touch that made both of their eye’s glow.
“A girl,” Derek breathed out reverently.
“Our daughter,” Stiles corrected.
They shared a look- passion, love, adoration, fear and joy all mixed up together.
“I never imagined,” Derek whispered, his voice thick with emotions he still struggled to express adequately, “when I saw you in the woods that day, that we would be here. That you would give me back the family I thought I’d lost. I never thought I’d get a second chance.”
Derek gently brushed away the tears that slid from Stiles’ eyes. “You gave me one as well. After dad… I never thought I’d have this. Love, happiness. You saved me.”
“We saved each other, like we always do.”
Stiles pressed an emotion laden kiss against his mouth. “I love you.”
Derek’s lips turned up as he held him tight and Stiles just knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“I know.”
It didn’t stop him from laughing out loud or kissing Derek silly. It didn’t stop him from reversing their positions and showing Derek just how much he loved him and it didn’t stop him from crying when they held their daughter in their arms nine months later.
“Okaeri, Claudia Laura Stilinski-Hale,” Derek said, large hand cradling the back of a dark head.
Stiles leaned down to kiss her pale nose and then up to kiss his mate’s. “Tadaima,” he breathed out, his spark and shadow flaring high in his chest.
In the light of the full moon, wolf and fox twined around their baby girl protectively.
Tadaima.