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When the fires began forming a pattern, Sheriff Stilinski called in Derek Hale. Their relationship had grown from awkward allies all those years ago to an awkward family now. They’d both lost too many people to count at this point, but they’d also grown together in the messy tapestry of the Stilinski-Hale pack. John had taken Derek in as a second son, before he’d officially found out about the mating process itself. He’d never seen Stiles the way he’d started to be around Derek; the time spent apart when Stiles had his apprenticeship in the FBI, even if it hadn’t lasted, only brought him and Derek closer together.
“You really think it was intentional?” John asked, looking at the now-burned clearing of trees.
“Rowan burns down into mountain ash,” Chris said, stepping aside when Derek joined them.
“Why would someone need mountain ash?” John was weary of the supernatural, and he had a sinking feeling this would qualify as that.
“To kill a wolf, maybe,” Chris suggested.
“Or set a trap,” Derek added. When he was finally close enough, he gave Chris a pat on the back, appreciation for the hunter coming back to town to help solve the arson spree. “Doing alright?” He asked.
“As good as one can be when you start seeing ghosts,” Chris said. When Derek gave him a look, Chris simply shook his head, not quite ready to reveal what was happening.
“I’d say I missed how cryptic you two can be, but I’d be lying,” John said with a grimace.
When Lydia came to, the last place she expected to be was the very same locker room where she’d kissed Stiles, the one where she killed a Ghost Rider to save him. It amused her to remember the way he had idolized her before realizing how much he loved and needed Derek Hale. Projection if she'd ever seen it.
Lydia would have focused more on that thought process if it weren’t for the realization that it was now early evening, when last she’d checked it was mid-morning. How much time had she lost?
“Lydia?” Eli asked, pausing in his tracks just before running into her. “What are you doing here? Neither of my dads told me you were coming to town.”
“That’s uh... that’s a good question,” Lydia said, still getting her bearings. She put a hand on Eli’s shoulder absentmindedly, nodding to herself. It was as if the day was flickering in front of her, the fabric of reality bending to make her see something. She just couldn’t figure out what.
“Lydia?” Derek asked. He’d felt the shift in Eli’s mood, moving away from irritation at being told to stay in the locker room if he couldn't control his shift, to confusion and worry in the span of a few breaths.
When Lydia looked over to the doorway where Derek stood, she felt herself finally focus again. A faint smile ghosted across her face right before an arrow shot into his neck. Her eyes went wide as she and Eli bolted toward him, catching him as he fell. Down the hallway, she could’ve sworn that she saw a familiar face, dark hair sweeping in front of it as the figure turned and ran. When she blinked, the figure was gone, and she cursed herself for even entertaining the impossibility.
She turned back to the task at hand, the urgency of the situation. Blood was seeping out of Derek’s wound, but Lydia didn’t feel the prickle of a scream in her throat, and she felt safe enough in the supernatural to know that Derek would be okay. Her hands pressed firmly against his neck, trying to contain the injury.
“Dad?!” Eli yelled, not knowing where to even put his hands. They were shaking, and when he actually looked at them, he was entranced by the stark redness against his pale skin.
“Eli, Eli , listen to me!” Lydia shouted commands at him, angling her face to force him to look at her. “Find me some sort of clean cloth, quickly. There should be towels around here somewhere, unworn jerseys, something!”
Eli nodded and obeyed, glad to have someone directing him. It didn’t take him long to find something, a towel with the school’s name printed on it. If the circumstances were different, he would’ve laughed at the ridiculousness of a white towel with blood on it mirroring the school colors.
“Is he gonna be okay?” Eli asked once he returned. Derek’s eyes were on him, eyes red as he tried to heal.
“He will be once we get him out of here,” Lydia muttered. “I need you to hold this here while I make a call, okay?” She leaned aside so there would still be pressure against the wound before she removed her hands.
“Why can’t you just scream? You’re a banshee, wouldn’t that bring everyone here?”
“I am, but I don’t want to scare anyone more than they already will be. Banshees usually only scream for death, remember?”
“Right,” Eli said distantly. “Who shot him, anyway?”
“I don’t know,” Lydia said, and she hated how true the statement was. The only possibility she could think of wasn’t possible, even if she had a suspicion it was why she found herself back in her hometown.
“This is going to hurt,” Peter said simply, lighting the blowtorch with a simple flick of the wrist.
“Overdramatic bastard,” Melissa muttered, but she stepped back to allow him space to work. Even after getting through medical school to become a doctor, she knew her limitations with the wolves.
“I didn’t hear you complaining the other night,” Peter muttered to her as he brushed past.
The look she gave him silenced him immediately, and once again Scott and Stiles found themselves confused and amused over the fact that they’d ended up together after all this time. Everyone could tell who was in control, though, even if their third hadn’t joined this particular party yet.
“You almost sound excited,” Stiles said. His arms were crossed, and even for those who couldn’t scent his emotions, how he felt about this was clear. Even after training for years, albeit still clumsy with weaponry, he wasn’t there when it mattered most.
“As you’re more than aware by now, Hales enjoy inflicting pain on one another, at least in certain situations,” Peter drawled out. “Besides, I seem to remember a certain glee my nephew took in burning the tomahawk scar closed on my chest.”
Stiles just narrowed his eyes, only relenting when Derek raised his hand for his mate. Stiles moved quickly, his own hands enveloping Derek’s in a heartbeat.
“It’s gonna hurt,” Stiles muttered, giving Derek a soft smile. “And I can only imagine what you want to say now, but you’re going to be smart and keep your mouth shut, right?”
This time, Derek glared at Stiles, raising his brows for good measure. There was more than one chuckle by the peanut gallery at the fact that he continued to communicate silently sometimes.
Later, when Derek was resting under Melissa’s care, Lydia pulled Scott and Stiles aside. She’d been itching to get them alone to talk, but the opportunity hadn’t come yet; healing Derek was the priority. Now, though, the house was quiet, Eli snoring on a cot they’d set up so he could be near his dad.
“I can’t make any promises, but I need you both to be honest with me,” she started. She kept an eye on Derek’s sleeping form through the crack in the door, knowing he’d probably be able to hear her if he was awake.
“It was Allison, wasn’t it?” Scott asked, knowing where she was going with this conversation.
“All-” Stiles started, before adjusting his volume. He glanced in on Derek and didn’t see him stir, so he turned back to his counterparts and continued in a whisper. “Allison? As in killed-by-Oni-a-decade-ago Allison? Our Allison?”
“One and the same,” Scott said. He hadn’t shared why he was back in Beacon Hills, and Stiles was sentimental enough to not question whether it was truly just a visit home.
“I would argue she isn’t quite the same,” Lydia murmured, tilting her head as she considered the situation, looking up when Stiles scoffed.
“Yeah, I’d say not, considering she and her dad had reached a level of truce with Derek. Hell, she helped us figure out how to save Cora without Derek losing his Alpha status. And now she tries to kill him?”
“I don’t think she was,” Scott said, brow furrowed in thought. He could feel Stiles’ irritation at the thought and continued. “She could’ve made that shot in her sleep, and we know it. It’s like she was holding back.”
“Like when she hadn’t closed her door,” Lydia said, her voice distant as she remembered. “It was almost like after you three sacrificed yourselves, and you needed to close your minds to supernatural influence,” she explained.
“Like when she almost killed you ,” Stiles realized.
Lydia nodded, looking up at him. After everything they’d been through, he was still the one who believed her without a second thought.
“We can figure that part out later,” Scott decided. “We need to find her first, before the nogitsune does.”
“How do we know she isn’t the nogitsune? Even if she’s fighting back, how do we know she isn’t possessed like I was?” Stiles asked. “Allison fucking died . How the hell can she be back?”
“Because she was never fully dead,” a familiar voice chimed in.
They hadn’t noticed the growing storm, thunder crackling outside the house, with everything going on inside.
“Kira?” Lydia asked, not trying to stay quiet anymore. She ran over to their friend and they fell into a hug, as if the last decade hadn’t even happened. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been tracking something through Bardo,” Kira said simply. She couldn’t help but smile broadly at her friends, familiar faces worn by time. After Lydia released her, she walked over to Scott and Stiles, pulling them each into a hug. She lingered in Scott’s arms a moment longer, the familiarity of his warmth briefly sending her back in time.
“When did you get back?” Stiles asked, noting the way she hadn’t seemed to age like the rest of them.
“Just this morning. I had to check on a few things at the Nemeton, but I got a call a little while ago from our friend in there.” Kira nodded toward the room where Eli and Derek were.
“You mean to tell me my husband went behind my back to bring you here?” Stiles asked. “Oh he is so fucking dead.”
“Before you decide to finish the job, maybe consider realizing that he wanted to keep you safe. This isn’t just your villain of the week we’re talking about, this is the creature that possessed you and wreaked havoc on your loved ones before anyone knew what was happening. You have a kid together, of course he wanted to keep you out of it.” Kira was more aggressive than before she'd left, a surprising bluntness in the way she spoke.
“Yes, well, he can shove that right up -”
“ Dad ,” Eli called out, breaking Stiles’ chain of thought.
“What - go back to bed!” Stiles made a shooing motion at Eli as he realized his son had joined them. He was seriously considering putting a bell on the kid to keep track of him.
“How about no?” Eli offered, folding his arms.
“How about yes?” Derek asked, his voice hoarse. He winced slightly at the pain of speaking, avoiding Stiles’ eye.
“How about you remember you were my age when you first faced the nogitsune! Maybe I can help!” Eli’s eyes flickered yellow in his passionate cry, and everyone fell silent.
“You are not helping with this, and that’s final, Eli. I don’t care that your wolf started showing, you’re a kid . The nogitsune won’t hesitate just because of that. However it is that Allison is back, you cannot be a part of this.” Derek was gaining strength as he spoke more, his pride at Eli’s growth clashing with his fear of something happening to him. It had been a relatively peaceful life for Eli so far; he didn’t want to fuck it up now.
“I know what happened to Allison, she was just a couple years older than me,” Eli said quietly. “I know what you went through. Besides, I’ve been training my whole life as a Hale. That’s fifteen years of experience. It’s not like I don’t know how scary things are! My grandma and older sister and a bunch of the rest of the family are gone because that’s the world we live in!” He’d gained traction, and Stiles could see he was nearing a spiral.
“You weren't there ,” Stiles said, and he hoped his son would never have to see or hear the nogitsune using Stiles’ body and voice like the rest of the pack had. He had his own traumas that he had to face, and he was still learning how to manage his own experiences with helping to raise a teenager. It had been almost a decade, and he still felt lost most of the time.
“I know ,” Eli groaned out, pushing his hair back in exasperation.
There was silence as they all stopped to consider how the other might argue further, before Stiles finally let out a dramatic sigh. His friends stayed quiet, for once, while he and Derek held a silent conversation between themselves in the same space.
“You’re going to follow us anyway if I say no, aren’t you?” Derek finally asked.
Eli just nodded, the glimmer of success shining with his smile.
“Fuck. Okay. Just... don’t make me regret giving birth to you, okay?” Stiles threw his hands up in exasperation, turning back to head out the door.
“Dude, we all know that’s not how it works.”
“Oh, really? You want me to detail the mating process your dad and I performed? Go in-depth to how you became my kid too?”
“I’ve read your report on circumcision from when you were my age, it’s not like you could top that,” Eli grumbled.
“Can you both stop talking?” Scott winced as the argument continued.
“How the -” Stiles started. He stopped, turning again to face Eli, then shook his head and continued forward. “My dad,” he grumbled.
“Grandpa Stilinski is pretty awesome. If you’re not the one in trouble, at least. Though it was actually Aunt Malia that gave it to me.” Eli beamed, knowing he’d won.
Stiles felt a surge of pride at that, a warmth over Eli fully accepting the Stilinskis as a part of his life. It was one thing when Eli had started driving the jeep - more like stealing it - but another entirely to immerse himself in the messiness of their lives. Malia would always be the cool aunt, but Stiles was delighted to know his dad was apparently an awesome grandpa.
“You play the game, keeping it distracted, you hear me?” Derek had a hand on Eli’s shoulder, warmth emanating from the touch. “I’d rather you not be here at all, but if you must, I need you to be safe. John will be keeping watch, too.”
“I know, dad. Don’t worry about me, I can make this game go on and on. After all, I got taught by a former basketball player and a flailing lacrosse player. What could go wrong?” Eli smiled and surged forward to hug his dad before running across the field to Coach when the whistle blew. He looked over his shoulder to see Derek smiling at him, only slightly embarrassed about how vocal his parents could be at normal games. He knew this would be extremely far from the norm, though.
“He’ll be okay,” Lydia said gently, nudging Derek’s side with her elbow. “You’ve raised him well.”
“My parents raised me well too, and look where they are.” He hadn’t meant to say the words out loud, and he ducked his head when he realized he had. “Sorry, I know you’re just trying to help.”
“We’ll never be fully prepared,” Stiles joined the conversation. “We all know even the best laid plans don’t always work out. But this might just keep the nogitsune occupied in thinking he’s trapped us for long enough that we can fight back.”
“Lydia, do you mind catching up with Malia? I need to talk to my husband,” Derek said. When she nodded with a knowing glance to Stiles, he walked in the opposite direction, knowing his mate would follow.
“Please do not make a goodbye speech,” Stiles blurted before Derek could say anything else. “I will shoot you with a wolfsbane-laced bullet myself if you try to be heroic and say you’re going off alone.”
Derek simply quirked an eyebrow up in amusement, trying to keep his face neutral. It didn’t work, though - his eyes prickled red without his permission.
“I was going to ask if you’re okay. We don’t do goodbyes for the sake of scaring each other.”
“Who, me? I’m fine. I’m always fine,” Stiles blustered. He started to take a step back before Derek’s arms shot out, holding his waist to keep him still.
“You’ve been silently counting your fingers. You haven’t done that in years, not since before Eli came into your life.” Derek took a step closer, their toes bumping into one another’s.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles said, not quite meeting Derek’s eyes. “I’m just a fidgety guy, you know that.”
Derek gently moved his hands to clasp Stiles’, interlacing their fingers so that Stiles couldn’t play with them for a moment. He brought them up to his mouth and pressed kisses to the backs of his hands, and then to Stiles’ wrists, before pulling them up to hook his arms around Derek’s neck, pulling their faces closer together.
As Stiles finally let his eyes drift up to Derek’s, pulled in by the burning red, he angled his chin up just enough to kiss him. It was soft, familiar, and as Derek continued the kiss, Stiles let his fingers spread into Derek’s hair. He felt Derek’s arms around him, holding him tightly, grounding him. After a few minutes, Stiles pulled back slightly, resting their foreheads together.
“I love you,” Stiles murmured, knowing Derek could feel the ghost of his breath on his lips.
“And I you,” Derek responded. “We’ll be okay. You and me and Eli. We’re family, and we’re going to be okay.”
“Okay,” Stiles agreed.
They both knew speaking the words wasn’t a guarantee, but this time they had each other, more bonded than ever before. They might have been allies, maybe even friends, the last time the nogitsune threatened their loved ones, but now they were mates, stronger together in new ways.
“If the two of you are finished...” Malia called out, the amusement and annoyance in her voice working in tandem.
“I think it’s sweet,” Scott commented, and Stiles could hear the smile spreading across his face. When he turned to look, the assumption was confirmed, that lopsided grin distinctive as ever.
“Boys,” Lydia said, rolling her eyes. She was smiling too, not fooling anyone.
“Now that that eyesore is finished,” Peter added, walking away toward the forest, knowing the others would follow.
“You’re one to talk,” Stiles grumbled, mildly embarrassed about public displays of affection.
“The difference here is that I’m not mated , not like you and dear Derek are. I simply chose to enter a relationship of my own volition.”
“You wanted sex and stability, so you agreed to enter a polyamorous relationship,” Derek said, rolling his eyes. “That doesn’t make you any better or worse than a wolf who has mated with someone.”
Peter didn’t have a response to that, and instead acted as if he hadn’t heard Derek speaking. It hadn’t been surprising when he and Stiles ended up together, to anyone, really. But the fact that they’d danced around it for so long, somehow always drawn back to one another before piecing it together, that was what irritated Peter so much.
The conversation eventually waned, too much anxiety filling the air as the group made their way to the Nemeton. Chris and Melissa were already waiting for them, along with Kira. It was her mother who summoned the nogitsune all those years ago, back before the Nemeton had been cut down, and they’d worked together to understand how and why Allison could have left Bardo - whether she’d been released, or escaped.
“Is everything set?” Chris asked when he saw the pack arrive.
“What he means to say is, hello everyone, welcome,” Melissa said, glaring at Chris for a moment.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just antsy about Allison,” Peter said.
“As if you wouldn’t be the same,” Stiles grumbled, glancing at Malia.
“That’s neither here nor there,” Peter brushed him off. “Speaking of, though. How do we know she isn’t being controlled by our old friend?”
“Because she hesitated,” Kira answered. Even though she didn’t look much older than last the pack had seen her, she’d grown stronger, muscles clearer under her clothing. “And it isn’t the same as when Stiles was fighting for control.” She gave him a small smile of understanding before she continued. “Allison is confused, yes, but she seems to be acting on the fragments of memory and Gerard’s training from before she died - namely, that Derek had killed her mother, that supernatural creatures were to be hunted and extinguished.”
“But all of this happened after she realized she was being brainwashed,” Stiles argued.
“She made new code before the nogitsune came back. Why doesn’t she remember that?” Scott asked.
“We believe the nogitsune is influencing her, but not controlling her. Coming back from an in-between world isn’t exactly normal, so it’s understandable that she only has bits and pieces that the nogitsune is rearranging for its own good. It didn’t die either, it was contained. It could’ve been influencing Allison this whole time.” Melissa’s explanation was sound, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.
“How do we reach her?” Derek asked. “We’re not going to fight her, but how do we bring back the Allison we lost?” He may not have been close with her before her death, but they’d reached a neutral relationship, and he wanted to believe that they’d be friends now, if not allies.
“Me,” Lydia spoke, and she had a sad smile on her face. “It’s me, right? Calling her back?”
Chris nodded, finally looking up at the group. He noted the variety of friends and family gathered, and remembered the array from last time. They’d all grown, and they were all still pack, to some extent.
“You’re the key. Not only because you’re a banshee,” he added, seeing the look on Lydia’s face. “But because you, more than anyone else here, became enmeshed with the supernatural as time went on. If Allison is operating on memories from when her mother died, she won’t remember how involved you’ve become.”
“He’s right,” Peter added. “You were just a pawn back then, your flame ignited by my bite, even if you didn’t become a wolf. But look how you’ve grown.”
“Pump the breaks there,”Stiles bit out. “You don't get to claim responsibility for who Lydia is.
“Anyway,” Melissa cut in, raising her voice, “we’re here with two alphas and a banshee to help bring Allison back and hopefully contain the nogitsune again, this time better.”
“We might be able to kill it this time, or at least permanently banish it,” Kira offered. When everyone paused to look at her, she shrugged and smiled sheepishly, still getting used to being back around her pack. “I have been training this whole time, you know. The Skinwalkers have a unique history with the Oni, and I’ve gained another tail. We might be able to harness their power to take on the nogitsune.”
Nobody spoke for a moment, the air heavy with the weight of racing thoughts.
“God I missed you,” Scott finally said, breaking into a smile.
Kira returned it, looking to each person standing in front of her. She could see the ways their bonds had shifted over the years - Derek was holding Stiles’ hand, just as Lydia held Scott’s and Malia’s - and still they welcomed her back. She was more grateful than she could describe, and extremely glad to be home, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal. She just hoped they could actually save Allison.
“We all did,” Derek added. “We weren’t exactly close when you left, but we’re still pack.”
Kira smiled at him and nodded, feeling a tension she hadn’t realized she was holding drift away. After a moment more of quiet warmth between everyone, Kira nodded and turned on her heel to walk further into the woods, knowing the others would follow. It was nearly dark now, the evening light fading as the tree coverage blocked out even some of the stars.
Just as Kira began to turn and take stock of their group, she heard a faint whistling sound and unsheathed her sword, swinging it in an arc to stop the arrow let loose. Her eyes shone in the night, fox senses kicking into gear as she saw the same in the other shifters. Scott and Derek’s eyes were a fiery red, while Malia and Peter’s brilliant blue were like beacons in the night. Lydia had taken a fighting stance, and Stiles, Chris, and Melissa all had their guns in their hands, years of training honing their reflexes.
“Allison? It’s your father,” Chris called out. His voice was rough, clearly affected by the worry for his daughter.
“My father wouldn’t work with the wolves,” Allison answered.
Nobody could quite tell where she was, but when another arrow started to soar through the night, Kira again slashed it out of its path.
“Allison?” Lydia asked. “Allison!”
No response came as the wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees. A rattling sound echoed through the forest, the clicking of firefly wings disrupting them.
“Who needs a door when I have an entryway?” A familiar voice rasped, and out of the shadows walked the nogitsune, shrouded in Rhys’ bandages and jacket from all those years ago. He no longer could inhabit Stiles’ visage, which the whole pack was thankful of.
“For as smart as you are, veiled in riddles, you really are dumb,” Derek pointed out. His words were lisped slightly from his fangs.
“Ah, the reigning Hale, taking after your mother’s footsteps, I see.”
“Don’t let him get into your head,” Stiles warned, raising his gun toward the nogitsune.
“And your little pet human. Who would’ve seen this coming? Stiles, always appearing so strong, but everyone knows how weak you are. How your silly pack still clings to you.”
Lydia grabbed Stiles’ wrist and twisted them around, which gave her momentum to land a kick on the nogitsune’s abdomen, letting out a soft scream to add power to it.
“You’re another trick,” Allison breathed out, and she finally stepped out of the shadows to notch an arrow aimed directly at Lydia.
“ No !” Stiles yelled, continuing the momentum with Lydia and pulling her aside, their mutual training helping them move fluidly as Derek stepped out from behind and knocked the crossbow from Allison’s hands. He roared at her to make his point. Stiles shot the firing mechanism, rendering it useless before Derek kicked it aside, baring his fangs at Allison.
In response, Allison pulled two ring daggers from her belt, swinging them in familiar motions around her fingers.
“Allison!” Lydia screamed, throwing herself in front of Derek as Allison charged forward. She imbued everything she had into the scream, not only the supernatural emphasis of her banshee abilities, but all the pain and heartache and joy and love of their friendship. It lasted longer than she expected, and she drew in a ragged breath after it was over. She felt weak, but when she started to fall back, she was caught by Derek and handed off to Stiles as Derek caught Allison's wrists. Her momentum had been strong enough that she couldn't stop the motion, but her face told them all they needed to know: she remembered .
“Allison?” Chris asked carefully, stepping forward. His gun hung loosely from his hand, not even instinct keeping him alert.
“Dad?” She asked, her gaze flickering to him.
“Don't listen to them,” the nogitsune hissed, realizing his game was up.
Allison stiffened, but she held her father's eyes before pivoting and throwing both knives at the nogitsune. He moved, and one knife missed him entirely, while the other only grazed his cheek. A sinister smile spread across his face, believing himself unbeaten.
With the focus on Allison now, Kira was able to call upon the Oni, throwing one of her tails - fashioned into a shuriken - directly into the gash on the nogitsune's face. It lodged into him, and as it broke, rotting from the nogitsune's influence, the Oni descenced upon him. The pack collectively took a step back, with Derek passing Allison to Chris, as the Oni collectively pushed their swords into the nogitsune's form. He shifted his gaze to look at the pack, his eyes lingering on Stiles’ before evaporating in a cloud of smoke, taking the Oni with him. While it was still night, the darkness lifted, enough for the pack to realize how much of it had been an illusion.
“Was that... it?” Stiles breathed, looking to Kira.
“It would appear so,” Derek agreed, skeptical of how easy it had been. He glanced to where Chris held Allison, both of them crying quietly. “But I think we gained more than we lost.”
Lydia gently put her hand on Allison's shoulder, giving her a soft smile when she turned, before Allison fully enveloped her in a hug. She pressed a kiss to Lydia's forehead and she looked at the rest of the pack.
“I don't know what the hell any of that was, but thank you. You saved me.”
“As much as all this pleases me, we need to check on our son,” Stiles said, tears in his eyes as well.
“I'm sorry, your what?” Allison asked, eyes going wide as she let out a breathy chuckle.
“We've got a lot to catch you up on,” Derek added, giving her a smile. “I'm glad you're back.”
“Me too,” she said softly. “And um, sorry about shooting you. I might have killed you if I hadn't seen Lydia. I thought she wasn't real, but it was enough to make me hold back.”
“How about we not talk about killing my husband and I won't talk about sending you back to Bardo in response,” Stiles joked, though Derek could scent the way those words made Stiles feel as soon as he'd said them. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, Stiles. It's nice to see you too,” Allison said, giving him a smile.
Back at the field, Stiles and Derek made it on time to see Eli scoring a point. When he raised his arms and jumped a bit, his excitement getting the best of him, Derek nudged Stiles.
“He acts just like you,” he whispered.
“And his sports skills definitely come from you,” Stiles muttered, blushing from the comparison. Eli really was his son.
“I can hear you, y'know. No need to be gross and romantic in public like this.” Eli muttered, knowing Derek would hear him.
“I think we should start listing all the things we love about each other, and all the ways we see each other in our boy,” Derek suggested. When Stiles looked at him in confusion, never knowing Derek to be so forward, he caught the gleam in his eye.
“He can hear us, can't he?” Stiles asked, unable to keep his smile down.
“Every word,” Derek confirmed.
Eli glanced up at them and shook his head before running back into the fray.