Archive of Our Own ^beta

As Stiles stared around his new, very small and barren New York City apartment, he still couldn’t believe that this was happening.   He couldn’t believe that things had gotten so fucked up, so fast.

No.  He could believe that.  It was their lives after all.  And Stiles and Scott had a knack for getting into trouble even before some rogue werewolf in high school had bitten Scott.

What he couldn’t believe was that the fucking government had stepped in.

Or, hell, that the fucking government even knew about supernatural beings.  Where were they during high school when all hell broke lose like clockwork four times a year?

And by stepped in, what he really meant was uprooted their entire lives and the pack apart.

In some ways, Stiles thought they could’ve dealed.  The pack; Scott, Lydia, Allison, Kira, Liam, and Isaac; had gone up against some scary shit – but there had been some close calls.  Allison had been shot with one of her own arrows.  Scott had been poisoned with mistletoe, and Liam had been shot with a wolfsbane bullet.   Stiles had been abducted and tortured more times that he cared to remember.

If things had gone any further, who knows what would have happened.  Stiles shuddered at the remote possibility of losing anyone in the pack.  It was the only reason he had let them talk him into this situation.

Stiles nudged the nearest cardboard box with his foot.  He didn’t really want to unpack, but living in cardboard boxes probably wasn’t very convincing.  And, it’s not like he has a ton.  Most of his belongings were still back in his childhood home, and he had let Scott take most of the stuff from the apartment.

He would have to go shopping soon.   He was going to need microwavable safe bowls.  And probably some microwavable safe plates.

The worst part wasn’t that he had to leave his job at San Francisco’s police department to work customer service for AT&T or that he was now living alone, or that his pack was now scattered throughout the country.  No, it was that Stiles had no fucking idea where any of them were.  If they were safe or not, and he wasn’t allowed to figure it out either.

As part of the weird supernatural version of the witness protection program that his pack had been inducted into, Stiles wasn’t allowed any contact with the supernatural or use his spark.  The werewolves on their end were not allowed to shift, either.  Stiles had been totally planning on disregarding the so-called safety precautions, until a puppy-eyed Scott and his petrified father had begged him not to.  Stiles had promised to do everything by the book.

So, he’s one hundred and ten percent completely alone in a strange city with not enough belongings and a stupid job until the government, or someone, manages to take down the Alpha pack that’s been decimating packs all over the country.  What could possibly go wrong?

Day three in New York, and Stiles had half of his things unpacked.  He considered it good progress.  He was trying to find his Star Wars poster in one his boxes when a loud pitched wailing hit his eardrums.  He winced at looked suspiciously at his front door – it sounded like it was right outside.  He walked over and forced himself not to swing open the door.  He checked the peephole first.  See, Dad.  Living by the book, he thought.

There was nothing there.

Cautiously, Stiles grabbed his baseball bat, the first thing he had unpacked, and opened the door.

There was a small child, probably about two years old, holding a teddy bear that was as big as she was.  Tears were pouring down her face.

Stiles knelt down to her level.  “Hey, where did you come from?”

She turned to look at him, and hiccupped through her sobs.  “No!”

Stiles tried not to laugh.  She must be going through the terrible twos.

“Moira!”

Stiles and the child glanced up where the panicked shout had come from.  A wide-eyed and terrified man slid out of the next-door apartment.  He had a towel slung low and precariously around his hips.  Falling water droplets made his muscles gleam.  Stiles licked his lips as he narrowed in on the man’s six-pack and happy trail.

The man saw the child and immediately lost the “oh shit” look.  He squatted down next to her, putting his strong shoulders right in Stiles’ line of view.

“Moira, what did I tell you!”

The little girl, Moira, Stiles supposed, clutched her bear even tighter and then threw herself to the behind Stiles, so she was hiding from view from who must be her father.

The man turned to Stiles and raised one perfectly impeccable dark and bushy eyebrow.  “Who are you?”

Stiles shot his hand out.  “Sti-eve.  I’m Steve!  Your new next door neighbor.”

The man’s eyes trailed down his body, and Stiles tried not to fidget or blush under the attention.  “I’m Derek.  And that little monster hiding behind you is Moira.”

Stiles looked behind him.

“Mine!” She said, determinedly.

“Moira,” Derek said softly.  “I wasn’t taking Fozzie away from you.  I just didn’t want him to get wet.  You don’t want him to get ruined, do you?”

Her face wrinkled, obviously conflicted.

“Wet teddies are no fun,” Stiles added, nodding seriously.

Her eyes flickered back and forth between Stiles and Derek.  Then, she slowly handed Fozzie to Stiles.

“Uh, wow,” Stiles chuckled and accepted the bear.  “I promise to keep him water free.”  He looked over to Derek.  Both of his eyebrows were now hidden in his hairline.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Derek said.  “I’m not even sure how she got out of the apartment.”

He looked down at his daughter who smiled back sweetly.

Stiles had heard horror stories of the trouble he had gotten into as a child, but he had a feeling this little monster was ten times craftier than he ever had been.  Stiles looked at the pure mass of muscle in front of him and wondered if he was a single father, because that must have be a lot of work.  Then, he wondered if he swung both ways.

“Come here, Love,” the man directed to his daughter.

Moira walked into her father’s arms.

Derek swept her up as he stood.  He laid a kiss on her cheek causing her fling her arms around his frame.

“I told you to stay in the bathroom, remember?” Derek said sternly.

Moira started to pout, pushing her lip out.  “Sorry, Papa.”

Derek looked unimpressed. “I don’t know how you got out of the apartment, but no doing it again, okay?  You’re not allowed to leave without me.  You scared me to death.  You don’t want me to die, do you, Love?”

Moira gasped.  “No, Papa!  No!  Don’t die!”

Stiles rose slowly, concerned for the little girl.  She looked like she was going to start crying again.

“It’s okay.  It’s okay,” Derek whispered as he ran his hand along her back.  “But you have to listen to me, okay?”

Moira nodded and rested her head on his shoulder.  “Love you, Papa.”

“Love you, too.”

Stiles tried not to melt.  Hot Almost Naked Dad almost punishing his child but loving her instead was a sight to behold.  For the first time, Stiles wished his sexual preferences didn’t make it so difficult to have his own child.  Moira looked so much like Derek.  They had the same perfect nose, and dark beautiful hair.  Moira even had the complicated galaxy of colors in her eyes as her father, even though Stiles would’ve thought they would be impossible to reproduce.

Stiles coughed awkwardly and held out the bear.  “It was nice to meet you guys.  Enjoy shower time.”  He winced thinking about his own shower time that usually included a quick jerk off session.  “Or not.  I mean.  Innocent shower time.”

Moira laughed at his babbling, but Derek smirked like he knew what Stiles was thinking.  Derek went to take Fozzie, when Moira freaked out

“No!  No wet!” She cried as she pulled Derek’s hand arm back.

Stiles looked down at the bear.  “How about you come get it back after you guys shower?”

Derek adjusted his grip on his toddler.  “You don’t mind?”

“Nah, I’ll keep Fozzie safe.  And dry,” he promised Moira.

Derek smiled. “Thank you.  Tell Steve thank you, Moira.”

“Thank you.”

Stiles watched as they went back to their apartment, and yes, his ass was just as fine as the rest of him. 

Stiles stared at his partially unpacked and very messy apartment with Fozzie dangling by his hand.  If they were coming over to get the bear, he wanted to make a good impression, and he didn’t want Moira to try to swallow anything dangerous.  He quickly started moving things around and cleaning up.  Most of the boxes ended up in his bedroom, because, sadly, it wasn’t going to be seeing any action.

In the next ten minutes he made more progress than he had the past three days.  It was still a little messy considering Stiles still hadn’t found a spot for everything yet, but it was better than before.

He and Fozzie sat on the couch, and Stiles turned on the PS4.  After a moment of consideration, he decided to play Angry Birds: Star Wars.  It was hilarious as fuck and maybe even Moira would enjoy it.

Stiles had gotten lost in the game, swearing angrily at the TV screen when there was a knock on the door.

Stiles froze and looked at Fozzie guiltily.  He paused the game and got up to answer the door.

Moira’s long dark hair was separated into pigtails.  She beamed up at him.  “Hi Steve!”

Stiles couldn’t help but smile back.  “Hey, kid.”

He looked at Derek who was standing right behind her.  “Derek.  Wanna come in?”

Moira raced inside and jumped on couch next to Fozzie.

“Sorry, about that,” Derek said sheepishly as he stepped into Stiles’ apartment.

“Don’t worry about it.  I invited you guys in.”

Stiles went and sat back on the couch and watched Derek look around his apartment.  It wasn’t invasive, or poking around at things like Stiles would have done, but his eyes swept over every inch of the apartment.

Moira tugged on Stiles’ sleeve and pointed to the TV screen.  “Leia!”

Derek looked at them sharply.  “You watching Star Wars?”

Stiles shook his head.  “Not tonight.  Was playing Angry Birds.  Star Wars style.”

“Papa!  Leia!”

“I know, Love,” Derek said, walking over to them.

“Do you want to play?” Stiles asked.

Moira blinked at him.  “Play?”

“She’s two,” Derek said, his voice gruff.

“Oh,” Stiles said, feeling like a disappointed child.  “If you don’t want her-“

“I don’t mind, but she’s two,” Derek stressed.  “I don’t want her to break anything.”

Stiles looked down at his wireless remote.  “Do you think she’ll throw it?”

Derek looked at his daughter and narrowed his eyes.  “No. No throwing, Moira.  If you get mad, you hand it back to Steve.  Or you go in Time Out.”

Moira nodded.  Stiles un-paused the game and handed her the control.  “Push the buttons,” he told her.

Moira started pounding on them in glee, especially when something would blow up on the screen.

“See, two year olds can play video games.”

“That’s what every father wants to hear,” Derek replied dryly.

After Derek stood awkwardly for a few minutes, Stiles patted the only empty cushion next to him.  Stiles tried not to preen as Derek went and sat down next to Stiles.  It’s not like Derek had a lot of options.

“How long have you been in town?”  Derek asked him.

“A grand total of three days.”

“Why the move?”

Stiles chewed on his lip, trying to decide on the best wording.  “Things changed.  I needed to get away, and what better place to do that than New York City?”

“You ran?”  Derek asked slowly.

Stiles sighed.  “It wasn’t my first choice.  It wasn’t my choice at all really, but sometimes running is the smartest one.”

“For who?  You or your partner?”

Stiles looked at Derek in disbelief.  “Partner?  No offense, dude, I don’t know if you’re projecting or not, but there was no romantic partner or relationship.  It was the smartest for me, my family, and my friends.  And, I’m not going to tell you any more, so you better just accept that.”

“Sorry,” Derek grunted out.

“Oh, really?” Stiles snarked at him.  “It almost sounded like you meant it.”

“I’m. Sorry.”  Derek looked at Moira.  “You may have been right about the projecting.”

“Mom didn’t feel up to the challenge?”  Stiles asked, softly.

Derek let out a humorless laugh.  “No.  Me and my ex-partner used a surrogate.  He didn’t feel up to the challenge.”

Stiles felt like the breath was knocked out of him.  “Oh,” he said, weakly.  He fidgeted for a minute and listened to Moira burst into high-pitched giggles.  “He doesn’t deserve what he’s missing.”

Derek’s ears started to turn red, and Stiles tried not to grin, but it was adorable.

“Have you explored the city, yet?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head.  Being a tourist in the Big Apple hadn’t even been on his radar.

“I was going to take Moira over to Washington Square Park in Greenwich.  She loves the music over there, and then get an early dinner.  Do you want to join us?”

Stiles heart quickened.  If it wasn’t with his daughter, it would almost sound like a date.  “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”

Derek smiled in response.

When Derek said park, Stiles was expecting a compact little playground and maybe a patch of grass if they were lucky.

Washington Square Park had an arch.  Like one of those classical architectural pieces that looked like it belonged in France or Rome or something.  And there was a fountain with people actually playing in it.  And musicians.  So, so many musicians.

Stiles tried not to gape as they came closer.  “Don’t they know that’s not sanitary?  Most fountains recycle water from the nearest river.  I thought that people cringe away from swimming in the Hudson River.”

Derek tilted his head.  “The river?  It’s not sanitary?”

“Oh my god,” Stiles cried and grabbed Moira who was walking in front of them.  “Don’t let your child near it!”

Derek burst out laughing.  “I know about the Hudson River, Steve.  For this particular fountain, they clean the water for public use.”

Stiles huffed and looked down at Moira who was completely unphased that Stiles had grabbed her.  She was still chewing on the end of one of her pigtails.  “Your papa thinks he’s funny.”

“Funny!”  Moira crowed, throwing her hands up.  She looked at Stiles expectantly.

“Uhhhh,” Stiles stammered.

“Ever heard of the tickle monster, Steve?” Derek asked.

Stiles smirked.  “You’re looking at the kid that invented the tickle monster.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Derek muttered, but Stiles was pleased to note that he didn’t look annoyed by it.

Stiles gave Moira his best predatory smile, which was probably creepier than anything else and she shrieked.  “The tickle monster’s going to get you,” Stiles taunted as he started to chase her.  “I’m going to tickle you!  To death!”

Stiles chased her for a couple of yards, making sure she was on grass before descending on her with wriggling phalanges as Moira shrieked and giggled.

“Papa!  Papa,” she started to gasp out, “save me!”

Derek strolled up and did a superhero pose with his hands on his hips.  Stiles tried not to choke.  Derek would make one fine Superman.

“I am here to help you!” Derek stated grandly.  Stiles snorted at the grand gestures.  Derek’s eyebrows started to narrow down on his face.  Stiles had a feeling that it wasn’t a good sign.

“Papa Wolf, to the rescue!” Moira yelled.

Stiles froze, surprised by the wolf comment, which was his downfall.  Moira tumbled out of his gasp and attached herself to Derek’s leg.

Derek looked down at her – and oh, Stiles thought, that’s what a predatory smile looks like.  “Get him,” Derek ordered.

Daughter and father alike rushed at him, toppling Stiles on the ground and tickling him until he couldn’t breathe.  When Stiles thought his bladder couldn’t handle it anymore, he yelled out.  “Surrender!  I –“ laugh “surrender!”

Derek paused and loomed over Stiles’ head menacingly while Moira continued to tickle him.  “What was that?”

“I give up!  You win!”  Stiles forced out.

Derek swept Moira up into the air.  “You defeated the evil tickle monster!”

Stiles gasped as he sat up.  “Who said I was evil?”

Derek just smirked while Moira shrieked in glee.

That smirk was just too sexy for a man with a child. 

Stiles fell into a pattern.  He was stuck at his god-awful job from 9-6, and would meet Derek and Moira for dinner in a different neighborhood afterwards.  Sure, it probably wasn’t the wisest way to be spending his money, but he couldn’t cook anyways.  Plus, seeing Derek’s smile was worth it every time.

In another life, Stiles might have thrilled with these almost dates or thought he and Derek were developing something, but Stiles knew better and was still too stressed about his MIA pack-mates to be worried about it.  Sure, Derek was gay, but he never made any advances, and Moira was around all the time.  Stiles was aware of how painfully attractive Derek was, but he was used to beautiful people.  His entire pack was supernaturally gorgeous.  Even Scott, if he thought about it (he doesn’t).

Stiles was just happy to make friends, even if one of them was a two year old.  After a month or so, Stiles had met Derek’s sisters, Laura and Cora, and his best friends, Erica and Boyd.  Stiles got along with Laura and Erica almost immediately.  They thought he was funny and laughed at his rambling.  Boyd and Cora, however, were not as easily impressed.  Stiles was still trying to charm his way to their good side.

Stiles started falling in love with New York.  He had lived in California all his life, but Stiles found New York to be more his scene.  Stiles never cared about any of that health conscious crap that California was big on.  In theory, it was nice to be able to buy kiwi and avocados all the time, but he never did.  He felt like his pale, geeky frame fit in much better with the hectic, never sleeps Big Apple.

Sixth months in, Stiles and Derek had watched a Mets away game on Derek’s TV paired with pizza, beer, and lots of shouting.  Moira had fallen asleep between the two of them just after the third inning, and Stiles had unconsciously rubbed her back when the Mets won.  As he had fist-bumped for the win, he had grinned happily.

“This is the best!”

Derek had beamed at him in response, and as usual, Stiles had ignored the butterflies that were too prominent when Derek was around.

Stiles had gone back to his own bed, had jerked off to the smile on Derek’s face, and had promptly fallen asleep.  

It was the next day, and Stiles couldn’t help but replay that moment over and over again.  He was happy, so of course he started to freak out.  As if in a trance, he grabbed a beer, started at his gaming system and wondered when the last time he and Scott and done a raid.  When the next time he would be able to do a raid.  He felt incredibly guilty.  He hadn’t forgotten his pack, but he hasn’t been worrying about them either.  It was like all sixth months of anxiety hit him all at once.  Everything had gone according to protocol, and there was nothing to signify something might have happened to them, but it didn’t mean anything.

Stiles sat, gnawing on his lip, when there was a knock on the door.  He contemplated not opening it, knowing the Hales would just make him feel better.  Moira would cuddle up against him and offer Fozzie for comfort.  Derek would squeeze his shoulder and offer him another beer before trying to talk about it.  Talking with Derek was always an effort, because once Derek started talking about real things, Stiles either had to ignore the guilt of lying to him about who he was or he was going to get lost in the depth of his eyes and succumb to all the sexual attraction.

The problem was, he didn’t want to feel better.  He deserved to feel crappy for being a shitty friend.  The knocking on the door continued.  Knowing it wouldn’t stop, he got up and answered the door.

Cora pushed her way into his apartment and Boyd followed.

“Hi?”  Stiles said, looking at them oddly.  These were not the Hales he was expecting.

They both turned around, feet apart and arms folded.  Stiles wondered if he was about to die.

Cora turned her head and nodded to Boyd.  “Do it.”

“Oh my god, don’t kill me!” Stiles said, flinching.

Boyd pulled out a white envelope from his jacket pocket and gave Stiles his best bitch face.

Stiles’ eyes darted from the envelope to Boyd’s face over and over again.  “Oh.  Am I allowed to take that?”

Boyd’s eyebrows went up.  Stiles looked to Cora.  She looked pointedly at the envelope.  Figuring his arm wouldn’t be chopped off; Stiles reached out and grabbed it.

“If you breathe a word of this, I’ll kill you,” Cora stated as Stiles opened the envelope.  Stiles looked up in surprise.

“You’re inviting me to Derek’s –“

Boyd moved forward and clapped his hand over Stiles’ mouth.

“What point of don’t breath a word of this do you not understand?”

Stiles tried to sputter, but Boyd’s hand was still firmly in place.

“There are phone numbers if you have any questions.  Text if you do.”

Boyd frowned at Stiles before slowly removing his hand.

Stiles looked at them and then back down to the invitation to Derek’s surprise birthday party.  “You actually want me to come?”

“It doesn’t matter what we want,” Boyd said.  “And if Derek wants you around, we should get used to that.”

Stiles couldn’t help but grin.  “Thanks, man.  That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“You’re good with Moira,” Boyd added.

Stiles smile turned a lot more genuine.  Boyd loved that little girl almost as much as Derek did.  “Thanks,” Stiles said softly.

Boyd nodded and headed to the door, and Cora followed.

“Oh, and Steve,” Cora said as she opened the door. “Don’t disappoint him.”

Before Stiles could ask what she was talking about – they were gone. 

Through text, Cora told Stiles he was in charge of getting Derek to the party.  It was going to be at some hole in the wall diner-bar combo that Stiles had never even heard of, but it was a frequently visited joint for the Hales and their friends.

It was pretty easy ruse.  Stiles bought three tickets for the afternoon Mets game, and a Mets T-shirt for Moira.  He gave them to Derek ahead of time, and Derek had been excited to go.  He had blushed and told Stiles he was glad that he thought of Moira, and that he was glad that he could be there for her first baseball game.  Stiles was honored and touched, and even more determined to make sure it was the best baseball game ever.

He carefully rationed out his money, ready to spend it on every piece of merchandise and shitty baseball food that Derek and Moira wanted.

Sadly, it rained and most of the money got spent on umbrellas and rain ponchos, but they still had a good time.  Moira had nap before the game, so she didn’t get too cranky, and she loved reaching her small hands out into the rain.  Moira being happy and behaved allowed Derek and Stiles to relax and enjoy the game.  Stiles even managed to convince Derek to have a beer while on father duty and made him relax on his birthday.

Stiles led the way after the game, pretending that he was sure there was a subway station around there somewhere.

Derek followed behind him, holding a sleeping Moira in his arms, shaking his head the entire way.  “I know this area, Steve.  There isn’t a single one.”

But he didn’t fight Stiles on it at all, and let him lead them through the streets of New York.

When Stiles was starting to panic that he actually had gotten them lost, Derek stopped them.

“Steve, you’re lost,” Derek stated firmly.

“What?  No!  Lost would imply that I have no idea where I am, and I do!  I’m in New York City.  On,” Stiles squinted at the nearest sign, “Chapler Street.  See?  Not lost.”

Derek huffed and adjusted his grip on Moira.  “Fine, but this subway station is nowhere to be found, and I’m hungry and a little tired.  There’s a great restaurant I know just around the corner.  Do you mind stopping for dinner?”

“Uh, yeah.  That’s fine,” Stiles said, kicking at the ground and trying to feign casual.

Derek led them straight to Paper Moon Diner.  As soon as Derek opened the door, a burst of light went off and a huge chorus of “SURPRISE!” echoed in Stiles’ eardrums.

Derek – Derek grew fangs and lost his eyebrows.  His eyes were blue.

“Well, shit,” Stiles said staring wide-eyed at Derek.

Derek quickly shifted back and handed Moira, who was just waking up, to his mother.  “Steve, I can explain.  This –this isn’t what it looks like.  It was the light.  It did things.”

Stiles tried to take large calming breaths.  Of course he would just attract another wolf pack in the city.  He wasn’t sure what the protocol for this was – he was told to stay out of his normal circles, not to use magic, avoid the shops, but he hadn’t planned for this.  He didn’t want to put them in danger.

Stiles looked up and into Derek’s eyes.  They were huge with worry, and his arms were reached out as if they were going to comfort Stiles, but had stopped.   Stiles realized that Derek wasn’t sure if it Stiles was okay for Derek to approach him.

Stiles faked a smile and tried to calm down.  “Don’t worry about it, Derek.”  He tried reassured Derek by clasping him on the shoulder.  “I trust you.  Let’s go inside and celebrate.”

Derek looked torn, unsure if he should go for the easy out or not.

Stiles Derek’s shoulder a little tighter.  “We’ll talk about it later.”

Derek nodded and walked into the diner to join the rest of his family.  His pack, Stiles’ mind corrected him. 

After an hour of casual mingling and sticking close to Derek, and Derek’s pack-mates tease him, Stiles settled onto a booth by himself.  Not much longer, Mrs. Hale joined him.

“You know about werewolves.”

It wasn’t a question.  Stiles nodded anyways.

“You have magic.”  She analyzed him quietly.  “A spark.  It’s faint.  You haven’t done any in awhile.”

“No.”

Mrs. Hale stared at him, and Stiles stared back.  Normally, he could kill at a staring contest, but this was Derek’s mom, and he wanted to respect her, not one up her.

He didn’t submit, but he provided some answers.  Or he tried to.

“I can’t talk about it.”

“Why?”

Stiles started to tear at the label wrapped around the beer bottle.   “Because I need to keep the ones I care about safe.”

“What about my son and my granddaughter?  Don’t they deserve to be safe?”

Stiles couldn’t help but look at Derek, who was obviously drunk off some wolfsbane infused beer.   He was red faced and couldn’t stop laughing.  Moira was asleep on Boyd’s shoulder, looking tired out, but happy.

He dragged his eyes back to Mrs. Hale.  “They do, which is why I can’t say anything.  I don’t want anything to happen to them.  To anyone in their pack and that they care about.  I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Talia nodded and got up to join her husband.  Stiles didn’t know if she left him with approval or disapproval.

Derek took her place, almost immediately.  “Is my furry problem a problem for you?”  Derek asked, wide eyed.

Stiles would be tempted to laugh, if he wasn’t in such a shitty mood.  “I don’t have a problems with werewolves, Derek."

Derek’s smile was blinding, and Stiles felt like everything was falling apart underneath him.  He wanted Derek to always smile at him like that, but what if it was safest for him to leave?  

“And it's fine that I’m a dad.  A very single, gay dad.  With a child.”

Stiles frowned.  “Of course it’s fine.  I love Moira, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Stiles didn’t think it was possible for Derek’s smile to get any bigger.  Derek reached over, and took Stiles’ hands in his.  “Good,” Derek said, nodding.  “That’s very good.”

Stiles stared down at his hands in Derek’s.  Everything that Stiles had been trying to ignore the past sixth months started to bubble up inside him.  The looks, the amount of time they spent together, the trust Derek slowly put into Stiles for his daughter, and him wanting Stiles to get along with his friends.  Then there were the moments that made Stiles’ heart lurch.  Moments that he ignored.  Every time Derek looked at him or they made any sort of physical contact.  He was content just to watch Derek with Moira, and Stiles was never content to watch anything in his life.  Sometimes he was too good at ignoring the problems, especially when they wouldn’t go away.  The reason he was happy in New York City was Derek.  He was in love with Derek.

“Derek,” Stiles said slowly as he looked up, and when did Derek’s face get so close to his?  

“Steve,” Derek breathed out and leaned forward to kiss him.

Stiles jerked away.  The name was just a painful reminder of how this couldn’t happen.  “I- I can’t.  I’m sorry Derek.  I have to go.”  Stiles grabbed his stuff.  “Happy Birthday!” he called out as he ran through the door.  

Stiles tried not to panic as he made his way home.  He wasn’t supposed to fall for anyone.  This wasn’t permanent.  He was supposed to go home at some point and return to his pack.  He had spent the sixth months lying to Derek.  And he’s a werewolf!  What if Stiles was found out by the Alpha pack?  Would they go after the Hales next?

When he got home, Stiles opted for chugging two whole beers to calm his nerves and pass out drunk.  

It was three days later and the longest Stiles had gone without seeing Derek or Moira since he had met them.  He felt like crap.  He and Derek had never even held hands, and yet, Stiles felt like he was in just-had-my-heartbroken-into-a-million-pieces-break-up mode.  He managed to drag himself to work, but moped around all the time.  Even his co-workers who didn’t even know his first name commented on his morose behavior.  Stiles could barely resist flicking them off.  Home was littered with beer bottles, and the closest to real substantial food he had eaten was delivered pizza that was still laying out half eaten out on the coffee table.

Stiles was huddled up on the couch and finishing up his fourth beer for the night.  The alcohol was supposed to help him forget his troubles, but it only made him more depressed.  It reminded Stiles of his dad after Stiles’ mom had died, and just like his dad, Stiles couldn’t convince himself not to drink, even though it was making him miserable.

Stiles was replaying every heart-zinging moment between him and Derek, there were a lot of them, and hating himself for everyone.  It gutted him to think of leaving them behind if the Alpha pack was ever captured.  And then werewolves.  Derek just had to be a werewolf.  In all honestly, he should have put the clues together faster.  Moira was more developed than most children her age, per usual for were-cubs.  How they both seemed to pick up every word he said, no matter how loud.  How Derek always answered the door before Stiles even knocked.  Cora and Boyd making sure Stiles never spoke a word about the surprise party.  There was a chance Derek would’ve heard it through the walls.

That train of thought led to what else Derek could’ve heard.  Especially when Stiles was alone in his bedroom.  Stiles groaned and chugged the rest of his beer.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t even go to his best friends for help.  He ached to see Scotty’s crooked grin, feel the warmth of his dad’s hugs, or even hear Lydia tell him to get his shit together.  He knew his pack well enough to know exactly what each of them would say and how they would react, but it wasn’t the same.  It just made him miss them more. 

Stiles was on the verge of throwing all caution to the wind.  He was done being patient and following the rules.  He wanted to make sure his friends were safe.  He wanted to talk to them.  He wanted to use his magic and feel it awake in his bones again.  He wanted to decimate the Alpha pack.

The only reason he hadn’t pulled out all the stops of the picture of sweet, innocent Moira in his head.  He couldn’t risk putting her in danger, and he couldn’t do that to Derek either.

So, he stayed locked up in his apartment, away from Derek, away from temptation, and moped.  It was safest for everyone.

This was what he quietly chanted to himself when Derek started knocking on the door.  And wouldn’t stop.

“Steve!  I know you’re in there!”  Derek’s loud voice carried in from the hall.

More knocks.

“Open the damn door, Steve!”

Silence.

“I have a two year old that thinks you hate her,” Derek growled.

Stiles felt sick at the mention of Moira.  Why did protecting people, also mean hurting them?

“If you don’t open the door, I will.  And you know I can.”

Stiles heard the truth in those words.  Derek would do anything for his daughter.  Stiles slowly unraveled his body from the couch.

He opened the door and was punched in the face.  “Fuck!”  He stumbled backwards and clutched his face.  He would already feel his cheek swelling.

Derek frowned at him.  “You’re drunk.”

Stiles scowled.

“I didn’t mean to punch you.  I was just trying to knock.”  Derek stepped through the threshold.  “Not that you didn’t deserve it.”

Stiles didn’t disagree, but he glowered at Derek all the same.  It hurt.

Derek rolled his eyes.  “I’ll get you some ice.”

Stiles should probably be trying to get Derek out of his apartment instead of letting him help himself to Stiles’ freezer, but Stiles just realized how drunk he was as he stumbled back to the couch.  This was the much easier solution.

Derek sat down next to him with a bag of ice and a paper towel.  He carefully removed Stiles’ hand and strategically placed the ice on Stiles’ cheek.  Stiles couldn’t help but let out a sigh a relief as the ice immediately started to numb the pain away.  He brought his hand up to hold the ice up and ended up overlaying his hand on Derek’s.  Derek’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at where their hands were joined.  Stiles strived not to take too much pleasure and comfort for the contact, but it was hard and he sank deeper into the cushions.

Derek tore his eyes away from their hands to Stiles’ face.  “I don’t understand.”

His voice was flat and void of emotion.  Stiles was glad of it.  It made this easier.

“There’s nothing to understand, Derek.”  He pulled away, leaving Derek’s hand hanging in midair.

Derek crossed his arms. “Don’t pretend with me, Steve.  Don’t say there’s nothing between us.  That’s bullshit.”

Stiles shook his head and looked out the window.  “I didn’t know you were werewolves.”

“You said you didn’t care.”

Stiles looked up at him in surprise.

Derek’s eyebrows rose in exasperation.  “I wasn’t that drunk.  I remember my birthday very clearly.”

“I’m surprised you’re here at all,” Stiles muttered.

“I wouldn’t be, but I have a two year old that misses you and – and this doesn’t make any damn sense.”

When Stiles didn’t respond, Derek persisted.  “I like you.  I made that perfectly clear on my birthday.  And I know you like me.  The things I smell and hear –“ Derek broke off mid-sentence.  Stiles resolutely kept his face blank and tried not to blush at what Derek could’ve been hearing during the late nights where Stiles found pleasure in fantasies of Derek.

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles said before an awkward silence could settle upon the room

“What-“

“Derek,” Stiles said sharply, wanting the conversation to be done, “If you care about your daughter and your pack at all, you will leave me alone. “

Through pure determination Stiles found the ability to sit up straight, set his teeth and raise his jaw to Derek’s judgmental stare.

“What am I supposed to tell Moira?” Derek finally asked, his entire body sagging in defeat.  Stiles couldn’t even detect any anger in him anymore.

“Whatever you need to.”  Stiles gestured to a box over by the TV.  “Any toys she left are in there.  And a few of your books and DVDs.”

Derek grabbed the box before he made his way to the door.  Stiles stood absolutely still, not trusting himself to move.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Derek pause and turn back to Stiles.  Stiles closed his eyes and prayed that Derek would just leave.  He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up this façade.  To his relief, he could hear the sound of the door opening and clicking shut.  Stiles immediately collapsed into the couch, and didn’t even try to prevent the tears from sliding down his cheeks.  Derek was one thing, but it broke his heart to cause his sweet little girl any pain. 

The next day, Stiles forced himself to stop sulking around.  He started looking for new apartments in the city, and made contact with his handler, Ms. Jones, to approve the move.  All he had to do was mention that his involvement with Hale pack next door and a plan was formed.  Seven o’clock that night situated him in a new apartment halfway across town.

Once again, Stiles stood in an unfamiliar apartment in New York surrounded by boxes.  The first time had seemed like the worst thing ever, but Stiles was secretly glad for the past six months.  As long as they stayed safe, Stiles wouldn’t trade his moments with the Hale duo for anything.  After his mom died, his dad used to say that it was better love and lost than never to have loved at all.  And for the first time, that meaning really hit home.  

He was ten times more miserable now that he had lost the Hales and broken their hearts, but it was worth it, he told himself.  It was worth it, he had repeated in his head as he tried to get his shit together and move onto a Scott and Dad approved lifestyle.  No magic, no contacting anyone in the supernatural community.  He went to work and kept his head down.  To fill up his spare time and excess energy, he joined a gym.

It was a little soul-less, but it was all about keeping the ones he loved safe, and Stiles powered on through pure determination. 

Officials had asked everyone in Manhattan to stay home and lock their doors due to some weirdness happening in Upper Manhattan.  Weird as in there was no mention of bombs, shootings, or terrorists.  There were no deaths reported, but there were tweets of strange and scary noises coming from that area.  Oh, and the power had gone out in that entire district.  That was 48 hours ago, and Stiles had dutifully stayed holed up in own apartment and not looking into it, even though everything screamed supernatural to him.  He had turned off the wifi in his apartment and focused all his attention on video games, Assassin’s Creed to be exact.  He had just completed the story when the phone rang.

“Hello?” Stiles rasped in the phone.

“Good evening, Mr. Stilinksi,” Ms. Jones answered him

A few minutes later, Stiles dropped the remote in shock.  He was going home. 

Being home was fucking fantastic.  For about a month.  After eight months apart and uncertainty, the pack pretty much holed up together in the Stilinski-McCall house in Beacon Hills and didn’t let anyone out of their sight for the first week.  It was a much-needed pack bonding session that even the parents were 100% on board with it.

They slowly started to get back to their normal routines, and spread out along Northern California.  Scott and Stiles found a new apartment to move into.   Stiles was easily welcomed back into the Police Department.  Everyone managed to either get their old jobs and homes back or extremely close substitutes.  It was good, great even.    

Except, that it wasn’t.  They had all been gone for eight months and had made new lives for themselves during that time.  As time went on, Stiles started to miss New York.  He was tired of sunshine and the fake happiness on everyone’s face or the judgment when he ordered a whole pizza pie without veggies for himself.  

The worst part was that Stiles started down the scary path of What Ifs.  What if he apologized to Derek?  What if Derek forgave him?  What if they could work something out?  They were stupid, hopeful thoughts that Stiles couldn’t push out of his mind.  He was back home, with his pack.

But, his pack was also having trouble adjusting.  It didn’t take long to reveal that Allison and Lydia who had been undercover as cousins had started dating, which freaked Isaac and Scott out. Scott spent most of his nights on the phone talking to friends he made, while giving guilty looks to Stiles the entire time.  The pack started to withdraw from one another, and their conversations became stilted and awkward as they all danced around the things that they were missing.

 It took Melissa to call them all out on their bullshit and force them to talk.  The past eight months had changed them in ways that they thought college would have (but hadn’t).  They had a lot to discuss, and even more to decide. 

One Month Later

Stiles tried not to fidget with his new jacket as he walked up to Room 324.  Instead, he took a deep breath and knocked.  It seemed liked hours past instead of seconds as he waited for the door to open, but it finally did.  Stiles got to see Derek’s face for a split second before the door slammed close.  Stiles bit his lip in concern.  This reaction wasn’t unexpected, but Stiles hoped he could get around it.  He raised his hand and knocked again.  And again.  And again.

“Go away or I’ll call the police,” Derek growled through the door.

Stiles couldn’t help but grin at that.  “I am the police.”

Silence.

Stiles sighed.  “Derek, please open the door.”

“Go away, Steve.”

Stiles winced at the fake name.  He had to start sooner or later, right?  “My name isn’t Steve.”

Stiles could feel Derek looking at him through the eyehole.  He smiled weakly and waved.

Still nothing.

Stiles tried again.  “If you don’t open this door, I will.  Even if you don’t know I can.”

“Prove it,” Derek growled.

Stiles rolled his eyes, but Derek asked for it.  Even now, months after being allowed to excess his spark again, it still felt new and rejuvenating as he let it uncoil from his stomach and let it flood his body.  It only took minor concentration and mere touch of the handle to unlock and open the door.  As the door swung open, Stiles lifted his eyes from the handle to Derek’s face.

His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and his scowl was set deep in his mouth.  As he met Stiles’ eyes he slowly shifted.  His claws and teeth came out, and he adjusted to a defensive pose.  “Did you come here to hurt me?”

Stiles put his hands up and reigned the spark back in.  “I came here to explain.”

Derek stared at him for a moment before he shifted back to his human face.  “Fine.  You have five minutes.”  He gestured for Stiles to come in.

Stiles relaxed minutely as he walked in.  The place looked exactly the same as the last time he had been here.  “Where’s Moira?”  Stiles asked when he realized the apartment was way too quiet.

Derek narrowed his eyes.  “With my family.”

Stiles nodded before sitting down in his usual seat on the sofa.

“I didn’t ask you to sit.”

Stiles shrugged.  “Yeah, I know, but it felt right.”

Derek’s scowl just deepened.  “You said you were here to explain.  So start explaining.”

Stiles nodded nervously.  “Right.  Right.  So, um.  First things first?

Derek raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Stiles muttered to himself.  “First things first.  I should introduce myself.”  He looked up to Derek.  “My name’s Stiles.  Stiles Stilinski.”

“I’m supposed to believe that’s a name?”

“Do you want to see my I.D.?”  Stiles had it legally changed after he turned 18.

“What happened to Steve?”

“That,” Stiles said, licking his lips in anticipation, “is an excellent question.”

When Derek didn’t say anything, Stiles continued.  “Did you know there was an Alpha pack hunting down packs across the country?  They arrived in Northern California, about a year ago.  Things got really dicey, really fast.”

Derek still didn’t say anything.

“Did you also know that the Federal Government has a department for the supernatural?  Kinda like X-Files put more legit.  Not that Scully and Mulder weren’t legit but-“

“Steve,” Derek ground out.

Stiles gave a weak smile.  “Sorry, kinda nervous.   And it’s Stiles.  But yeah, they had been tracking the Alpha Pack and caught up with them in San- no we in Beacon Hills at that point.  But as all good plans fall apart, the Alpha pack seemed to have scattered.  Which is bullshit.  All that really means that they were sneakily hiding out in shadows and waiting to make their deathly move.  They put us into Witness Protection.  Or something exactly like it.  They uprooted my entire life into that apartment next door, and I became Steve who worked at AT&T, which was boring as fuck.”

Derek blinked at him.  “You’re not lying.”

“Nope.”

Derek just kept staring at him, and Stiles felt his resolve slipping.  He forced his weak smile to stay on his face.

“Keep explaining,” Derek ordered.

“Uh, well, there’s not much else to explain.  We became. . .friends.  I didn’t know you guys were werewolves or I would have never have put you all in danger.  Then I did know you were, and I couldn’t do that to you.  Especially not Moira, so I got the hell of dodge.  Then about two months ago, I got a call saying I could go home and the Alpha Pack was taken care of.  And I did.  I reunited with my pack.  And now I’m here.”

“Why are you here?”

Stiles entire body snapped into focus.  “Are you kidding me?  You’re the one that said it was stupid to pretend like there was nothing between us.  I – I was hoping you’d understand.  Maybe give me a second chance.”

Derek started to shake his head, and Stiles felt like he was going to be sick.  “Oh,” Stiles breathed out.  “I guess I should go.”

“Ste-Stiles,” Derek grabbed onto his shoulder.  “It’s not that I don’t – I can’t do the long distance thing.  Especially not with Moira.  It was so hard on her when you left the first time.  I don’t think –“

“Derek,” Stiles interrupted, trying to remain calm and not get his hopes too high up.  “I didn’t just come back to your apartment.  I came back to New York.  I transferred jobs and everything.”

Derek’s hand on his shoulder became almost painfully tight.  “You’re staying?” Derek breathed out.

Stiles nodded.  “Yeah.  If you’ll have me.”

“I know I should really take time to figure things out, but,” Derek broke off with a smile over coming his face.  Stiles had forgotten how beautiful he was when he smiled, and felt his stomach flip over in his stomach.

Before he had anytime to react, Derek’s lips were pressed against his.  Stiles let out a laugh in relief before he flung his arms around Derek’s shoulders and pulled him tight against him.  It wasn’t much of a kiss, more like smiling up against one another, but it was the happiest Stiles had felt in a long time.

Derek had insisted that Stiles accompany him to his mother’s to pickup Moira.  Stiles really didn’t have any desire to see the Alpha so soon, but as Derek had said, he had to do it at some point.

Stiles followed Derek through the doors of a posh looking home that was filled with hardwood floors. 

“It’s me,” Derek called into the house.

“DADDY!”  Stiles heard Moira shriek before he saw her tiny body hurl itself at Derek.  Derek swooped to pick her up before she hit his legs.  She giggled in his arms until she saw Stiles behind him.

Stiles gnawed at his lip, suddenly very nervous.  What if she didn’t want to see him again?  He watched as her eyes grew three times their size.  “STEVE!” She screamed and tried to climb over her dad’s shoulder to catapult herself at Stiles.

Derek chuckled and turned to hand Moira off to Stiles.  “Hey, sweetheart,” Stiles whispered as she threw her arms around his neck.

Stiles caught Derek’s eye and couldn’t help but smile beatifically.  Derek returned the look and for a few seconds they stood there just smiling at each other.  It was the perfect moment.

Only to be shattered by Talia Hale entering the foyer.  “What is this?”

“Mom,” Derek said, stepping aside.  “You remember Stiles don’t you?”

Talia raised her eyebrows.  It must be a Hale trait.  “I believe it was Steve, then, wasn’t it.”

Stiles nodded and tightened his hold on Moira.  He wasn’t going to leave without a fight.

“I suppose you should come in.” Talia gestured them to follow her.  Stiles threw a panicked look Derek’s way.  

“It’s going to be fine,” Derek murmured as he took hold of Stiles’ elbow as they followed his mom.

Stiles gulped but nodded.  He was only partly aware of the ancient décor and art that decorated the hallways and the sitting room they were lead.  Normally he would be fascinated, but right now he had other things on his mind.

Talia Hale was seated on a lone armchair facing the couch where Derek, Stiles and Moira sat.  Moira was too busy cuddling Stiles’ body to notice any stiffness that was happening.

As Stiles opened his mouth, Talia put her hand up.  “How about, I start?”

Stiles clapped his mouth shut and nodded.

Talia smirked.  “You were Steve Slonzki when we met at Derek’s birthday party.  You were a custumer service representative for AT&T, and Derek and Moira’s next door neighbor.

Stiles nodded his head, but Talia didn’t even wait for recognition as she continued on.

“You were under federal protection due to the security threat that the Alpha Pack presented to you and your pack.  While under protection you were ordered not only assume a new identity, but separate from your pack and tamp down on all magic uses.”

Stiles’ mouth opened in shock.  He glanced over to Derek.  He was frowning at his mother, as shocked as he was.

“Your name is Stiles Stilinski.  A credited spark and detective for the San Francisco Police Department.  At least you were.  And an asset to the McCall pack. “

Stiles opened and closed his mouth few times trying to find the right words.  “How did you know all this?”

“You knew?” Derek accused his mother, obviously outraged.

Talia looked amused.  “Of course I knew.  On your birthday, I met the young man you had been doting on for half a year.”

“Mom,” Derek murmured, ears turning red.

“Derek,” Talia reprimanded.  “As I was saying, imagine my surprise that he not only took the werewolf information in spade, but also smelled of a spark.  I appreciated that he did not try to lie to me, but I was rightly concerned for the pack’s safety –“

“Rightly?”  Stiles croaked out.

“Of course.  You were a target of the Alpha pack.  You could have lead them directly to my pack, which is why you cut off all contact with Derek, correct?”

Stiles nodded.  “But were they –“

“There was no immediate danger.”  Talia’s eyes flickered to her son.  “Not immediately, at least.  It took a few days of digging to find out the truth about you, Stiles.  And at that point Derek and Moira were both distraught from losing you.  I only did what any other mother would have done.”

“What did you do?” Stiles asked, completely lost.

“I contacted some friends.  Other Alphas.  We tracked down the Alpha Pack.  They were already in the state.  We had planned to lure them outside of the city to a spot where myself and the other Alpha’s were familiar with, but complications occurred.”

Puzzle pieces finally slotted them together in Stiles mind.  “Upper Manhattan.  The attacks,” he stammered.  He had been so ecstatic that he could go home, he had forgotten all about the lockdown.

“Indeed.  It was unfortunate that we had underestimated them.  I had no desire to for anyone in the city to get hurt.  Or to bring any attention to ourselves, but it has blown over.  A few good things did come out of it, though.”

“Like what?”  Derek demanded.

“We now have new, improved relations with the federal government, which is oddly reassuring.  They are less hostile than they were all those years ago.  And of course,” Talia gestured to Stiles, and her eyes settled on Moira who had fallen asleep on his lap.

“I understand that you two will want to work things out between yourselves, but I have already had contact with Scott McCall, and Stiles is cleared to be here and more for the pack, if it is ever desired.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if he was going to call Scott up to yell at him or tell him he loved him.  Probably both, as usual.  “Thank you.  For everything.”

“Like I said, it was nothing a mother wouldn’t do.  I just want my son to be happy is all.”  Talia stood up.  “You two will be joining us for dinner,” she said pointedly before walking away.

“Your mother’s amazing,” Stiles told Derek as he tried to shift Moira around on his lap.  His left leg was falling asleep.

Derek snorted.  “She’s something.”  He paused.  “Love you mom!”

Stiles laughed into Derek’s shoulder.  “She heard you, didn’t she.”

“Mmm,” Derek hummed as he pulled Stiles and his daughter close.  “What she said about approving for the pack –“

Stiles looked up from his comfortable spot against Derek’s chest.  “Yeah?”

“It’s not that I don’t want, but we haven’t even gone on a date yet, and –“

Stiles leaned up and kissed him.  It lasted a few seconds longer than he had planned, still thrilled that he could actually do that.   “We’ll take it at our own pace.  It’ll be fine.”

“The thought of joining this pack doesn’t freak you out?”

Stiles shook his head.  “No.  Not now.”  He trailed off, his gut still pulling a little tightly of what he left behind.  “The separation changed our pack.  We’re not what we used to be.  Or who we used to be.  They’ll always be my family, but this is my home now.  I’m staying here.”

“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else,” Derek said softly.

Moira stirred in Stiles’ arms.  “Hungry, Steve,” she yawned as she sat up.

Stiles looked to Derek.  “How long do you think it’ll take her to call me Stiles?”

Derek shrugged and took his daughter in his arms as he stood up.  “I don’t think it matters.  You’re not going anywhere.”

“No,” Stiles promised.  “I’m not."