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When Stiles had been in high school, there'd been no question in the Sheriff's mind that he was attracted to girls. Pretty exclusively, or at least exclusively enough that he had no good reason to be caught lurking around a gay club. But the minute the skeptical words "You're not gay" had come out of his mouth, he heard how that sounded, realized he might have been nudging his son that way without meaning to, and he started to wonder.
It was just little things. How unashamedly tactile he was with Scott. How much he felt he needed to hide. How he'd focused on Lydia so much for so long as if letting his attention stray would be somehow disastrous.
And even when the Sheriff was let in on the whole werewolf secret, it didn't explain the whole picture. So he continued to keep his eyes open.
But the picture was always compounded by something, usually something supernatural and terrifying. Murders, kidnappings, near death by drowning, the Nogitsune. And for a while after that, there had been Malia, and it hadn't seemed as important.
(He'd still noticed the way Stiles didn't miss an opportunity to touch Derek - a hug, a pat on the back - when the guy had been de-aged, but all in all that had been just a little tiny thing in the scope of the weirdness that had been that day. De-aged, what the hell?)
So when things calmed down, and Stiles was going off to college in Sacramento, single again, the Sheriff kept open eyes and an open mind whenever he had the opportunity to see his son.
That first Christmas break... well, it had been weird.
Whether it was just Stiles weird, or supernatural weird, or possibly Stiles-is-afraid-to-tell-me-he's-dating-a-guy weird, the Sheriff couldn't say.
Here was the evidence: Stiles was nervous being around his dad. Jumpier than usual. Scott spent a lot of time at the house, which was not out of the ordinary, but what was odd was that Derek was over a lot too. And never both at the same time, although from what little the Sheriff knew about these things, that was probably down to the difficulty two Alphas sometimes had in getting along.
The Sheriff knew Stiles was the research guy for the pack, and that Derek had been Alpha-ing the local supernatural kids while Scott and Stiles were at their place in Sacramento. So it could have been down to research for the pack, but that meant trouble, and the kind of trouble the Sheriff should probably be let in the loop about.
More evidence: Stiles wasn't just jumpy the way he normally would have been. He'd be focusing on his laptop or his dinner or the game and his head would suddenly shoot up, maybe tilt, as if he'd heard something. Or maybe smelled something, the way his nostrils flared. Something that the Sheriff couldn't detect.
It could be simple paranoia, could be that he was picking up on the body language of the shifters around him. Or - and the Sheriff didn't really like either of these prospects - Stiles had been bitten badly enough to turn him, or he was seeing, hearing or otherwise sensing things that weren't there.
(His money was on the bite, because he trusted his instincts that this wasn't nothing, but his mind rebelled at the thought of something going wrong again with Stiles's mind. Of course, said another part of his mind, it could be the kind of nothing that Stiles thinks is something. It could be he's reacting to something his brain's been doing which is completely normal, but he thinks it isn't, or he thinks you think it isn't.)
It was worrying the Sheriff, anyway.
The Sheriff knew he should probably talk to the kid, clear the air. But Stiles was dead-set on not ever being alone with his dad over break, it seemed. He skittered away when cornered, conveniently remembering something urgent he had to do.
A couple of times when Scott was there and Stiles was transparently using him as a shield, they'd have brief whispered arguments about it, ending with Scott sighing, giving in, and shaking his head. When it was Derek, once, the older werewolf didn't argue, just looked concerned and vaguely guilty.
He probably should have said something earlier. About the gay thing. About how it was totally okay, he'd just been a little blindsided by it, that first time it had come up. But there'd always been something else to talk about, usually something genuinely life-or-death.
Well, before he knew it, Stiles was back at school, and the only recourse the Sheriff really had now was to snoop.
(That, or ask Derek. But Derek was still pretty reticent about some things, as much as he'd come to be a help to the Sheriff's Department lately. The Sheriff got the feeling that the Alpha would have already told him if he thought he needed to know, and asking would, at most, get him a "You should talk to Stiles about it" or similar.)
So the Sheriff snooped.
Stiles's computer had gone back to school with him, of course, so there wasn't going to be any scouring of the web history (and he didn't actually need to know what flavor of porn his son had been watching lately, thank you very much), but there were some things.
The furniture was... more beat up than the Sheriff remembered. The dresser, the desk, the head- and footboard of the bed, nicked and dented and even cracked, in one place on the headboard.
Well, that could go either way in the became-a-werewolf vs. dating-a-werewolf question.
At least the hearing-things option was mostly off the table.
The Sheriff kept looking.
There were hairs. Well, maybe fur? Short and uniform and slightly coarse. The Sheriff wasn't exactly going to bring them in for analysis. In the nooks of Stiles's desk chair, and on the rug by the bed. If they were dark, they could have belonged to any of the three boys - or the wolf that Derek became - but they were orange.
The Sheriff had never seen an orange wolf.
His immediate thoughts were that Stiles either had a secret significant other who was a redhead of indeterminate gender but with much shorter hair than Lydia, or he was hiding a cat, for some reason.
Why would Stiles hide a cat?
Well, a cat wouldn't explain the furniture - the scratches, maybe, but not the dents and the crack - and if Stiles was dating anyone in Beacon Hills, it had to be one of the two boys that had been over here so often during the break.
The Sheriff tabled the hair/fur evidence for the moment. Maybe Scott had had a run-in with a sheddy tabby cat and scattered the evidence around town. Completely unrelated.
If Stiles was a werewolf, the furniture being damaged would make sense, but it was pretty localized. The walls were okay, there wasn't a lot of other damage, so his control was probably decent. Nightmares could account for the damage to the bed - God only knew how much that kid had to have nightmares about - and he fell asleep at his desk more than the Sheriff would have liked, too, but then what about the dresser, and that new gouge across the top?
And if it was werewolf-strength nightmares, why had it never happened when the Sheriff was in the house to hear it?
So. Dating a werewolf.
Stiles had been even more touchy with Scott recently. But they'd been friends for most of their lives, just friends through hell and high water and multiple girlfriends, and if Stiles was worried about something, he might just get that much more clingy with Scott.
Derek had been over a lot. He hadn't noticed them touching, but then he was used to the way Stiles was with Scott, the way Stiles was in general. He hadn't noticed them not touching, either.
Derek was five years older than Stiles, and troubled, but both of those things were becoming less of a concern every year.
Hell, he had no idea what was going on.
He spent a minute missing Claudia, thinking how she should have been there, she should have been the one poking around in their son's (possible) love life. And then he set his shoulders, and went to talk to Melissa.
"So I'm trying to figure out what's up with Stiles."
Melissa sighed. "It's always something with that kid, isn't it? He was a little jumpy at Christmas."
"Yeah, you thought that too? He was like that the whole break."
"Well, that's not a good sign." She cocked her head at him. "You ask him about it?"
"I tried." The Sheriff frowned. "Couldn't get him alone. It's like he had an Alpha honor guard all month."
"Is that so?" said Melissa thoughtfully. "You think he's gotten himself into something dangerous?"
"I think Derek would've told me if it was serious. No, I'm thinking more like something he thinks I'd judge him for. Which doesn't reflect well on me. We've been through so much, and he doesn't think I'd be okay with...."
"You think you have an idea what it is?" Melissa prompted after a minute.
"I think he's dating one of the Alphas," he got out. "I can't figure out which is more likely."
Melissa made a face, scrunching up in confusion and concern.
"What?" the Sheriff asked.
"About a week ago I caught Derek and Scott kissing," she told him.
The Sheriff's eyebrows flew up.
"Huh," he said. "Thought they were keeping out of each other's way. Well, maybe it's not a dating thing. Maybe it's just a wolf-pack thing. I know there's normally... tension between two Alphas in one pack."
Melissa scoffed. "If that's a wolf thing? Your average pack is probably having orgies." She shrugged. "I gave them some condoms and told them to keep it down. They didn't correct me."
"Huh," said the Sheriff, more confused than ever. Well, if the Alphas weren't avoiding each other, but they were taking turns with Stiles, maybe they were there as a guard? To protect Stiles from something, or someone from Stiles?
"Speaking of which," Melissa continued, "Stiles has been asking me some weird questions. Normally I wouldn't disclose medical stuff, but pregnancy and drug interactions?" She sighed. "Either it's his usual curiosity for everything odd, or...."
"Damn it," the Sheriff said. "So it's not boy trouble, then."
"I actually think Stiles would tell you if he got a girl pregnant," Melissa said hearteningly. "Maybe one of his friends at school got in trouble."
"Maybe," said the Sheriff. "Do you think Stiles is a werewolf?"
"That could be," Melissa mused. "Maybe that's how he knows so much about the medical history of this 'hypothetical' patient he keeps bugging me about. He can smell it on her."
"Stiles's stubbornness and hyperattention, plus now the nose of a bloodhound?" The Sheriff blew out a breath. "That's got to be a force to be reckoned with."
Melissa smirked at him. "Oh, like he wasn't already."
"Yeah," the Sheriff agreed. "So why is he afraid to tell me about this? After everything... he can't think it'll change anything."
"So maybe there is something else," Melissa said. "Whatever it is... you should talk to him."
"I can do that," the Sheriff said. "I just can't make him talk to me."
A couple of weeks into January, the Sheriff convinced Stiles to come home for a weekend. Scott was too busy to come with, and Derek had been out of town for a few days, so the Sheriff thought that he could maybe finally get to have a conversation with his kid that wasn't weirdly reverse-chaperoned by an Alpha werewolf.
But no, when the jeep pulled up, Derek was hopping out of the passenger seat as Stiles did the same on the driver's side.
Well, if it had to be done with a werewolf around, it still had to be done. It wasn't like he could shoo Derek out of the house to stop him from listening in. He'd hear anyway, if he wanted to.
"I think we should talk," the Sheriff told his son over lunch. "And at this point I don't care if you'd feel more comfortable having this conversation in private or with Derek here, but I'd like to talk to my son."
Derek and Stiles shared a glance.
"It's okay," Stiles told Derek. "I'll be okay."
"I'll be outside," Derek said, and kissed him on the cheek before standing and going to the door.
The Sheriff was more confused than ever. He watched Derek go, knowing he'd be keeping an ear out, wondering exactly why it was so important.
"So, what's up, Dad?" Stiles asked. He seemed happy enough, himself enough, if dodgy as ever about what was really going on with him.
"I was going to ask you the same," the Sheriff said. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything. If something's going on with you, or your friends at school, whether it's supernatural or not. I want to know, okay? I'm not gonna judge you for being yourself, or being who and what you are."
"I know," Stiles insisted. "I know, Dad. I just... I haven't completely figured it all out myself, and I didn't want to worry you...."
"Stiles."
"Yeah, Dad?"
"You're worrying me now, kid. You're jumpy, you're on edge, I could've sworn you were afraid to be alone with me all through your Christmas break. Trust me, you're worrying me." He frowned. "Did you pick up Derek on the way here just in case or something, or has he been in Sacramento with you this week?"
Stiles fidgeted, rubbing at his face absently. "Uh, yeah, Sacramento. He was helping me research a thing. I was having trouble focusing, and... yeah, it's about were-stuff, and he had some old books he thought might help."
"You run into something dangerous down at school?" his dad asked, frowning.
Stiles winced. "Well, yeah, we did, but we took care of that before Christmas break. There were some... complications."
"Do these 'complications' have anything to do with the questions you've been asking Melissa about pregnancy?" The Sheriff didn't see how it could, but then things around here didn't always follow logic, and he had a hunch. "You have a friend who needs help? I don't want any kid to have to go through that kind of thing without adults around, parents, someone who knows what they're doing, so if your friend doesn't have that...."
"It's me, okay?" Stiles burst out finally. "There's a chance... okay there's a chance I might get pregnant with a werebaby, and I didn't know how to tell you, because you've accepted so much, but I just thought that might be the thing that's a little too weird, and I didn't want you to freak out, so I was trying to figure out the right way to tell you, but I was going to tell you, okay?"
The Sheriff blinked. The Sheriff sat. "Okay," he said. "And what makes you think this hypothetical pregnancy is possible?"
"Okay, so. Here's the thing. The dangerous thing, before Christmas break? We got pretty far out into the park chasing it, and then I got hurt pretty bad, and Scott wasn't sure if I'd survive being carried back to a hospital, but he was pretty sure if he bit me right then, I'd survive the bite. So he bit me. And it was probably right, because here I am, right?"
The Sheriff's brain rebelled at all this new information. His son had almost died. He'd been bitten by an alpha werewolf. And there was the pregnancy thing. There was one of these things that was more normal, easier for his brain to tackle first, and although he tried to be surprised about which one it was, he wasn't really. "So you're a werewolf?" the Sheriff asked, setting the other two aside for the moment.
"Not exactly?" Stiles's hands scrubbed through his hair. "So there's this really rare thing that happens sometimes when someone's been possessed by a nogitsune and then get bit by a were-creature, which is that they become a werefox. From what we've been able to find, pretty much the only other way to make werefoxes is for those werefoxes to reproduce, like, have babies. So it kinda makes sense that the transformation is wired to make that optimal - a lot of the time, whoever bites the person, the werefox becomes the opposite sex to them. Like, functionally, when they're shifted. And since Scott bit me... I kind of turn into a lady fox?"
The Sheriff made a sort of choking noise.
"I know, right? It freaked me out too. But it kind of makes sense, if you think about it. Or... don't think about it too hard. I haven't decided which is the best tack." His head wove back and forth as he considered the question again. "Anyway, the other thing about werefoxes is that the ones with the babymaking equipment... that's me... we go into heats, late winter, early spring. Makes us kind of... especially attractive to other shifters, among other things."
This was too much at once, and the Sheriff tried to let the whole near-death-thing go, as a thing that was over and done with, and just deal with the rest, but the knowledge of it still left him with a terrified buzz in his nerves. "So wait," the Sheriff said, "Which werewolf are you freaked out about... possibly impregnating you?"
"Either? Both?" Stiles shrugged sheepishly. "What alpha werewolf wouldn't want a piece of this sweet little foxy ass?"
The Sheriff's head sank into his hands. Then he thought of something, and looked up. "Stiles," he ventured, "are you worried about this because you think they won't be able to control themselves around you? Do you not feel safe with them?"
Stiles's eyes snapped wide. "No!" he nearly shouted. "Dad, Dad, no, why would you even think that?"
"Well, because we're talking about two alpha werewolves who sometimes, like maybe around the full moon, have trouble controlling their impulses, and you're worried about this fox-heat thing in terms of whether one of them is gonna get you pregnant?"
"Yeah?"
Stiles honestly didn't seem to see where he was going with this.
"So if you're not worried about their control...." The Sheriff sighed. "Why would you get... I'm still trying to wrap my head around applying this word to you... pregnant...." He trailed off, trying to think. Well, there was one thing he should get straightened out. "Stiles, are you already sleeping with one of them?"
Stiles raised his eyebrows, tilted his head, and moved his hand just slightly, in a small forward arc, but somehow the Sheriff knew exactly what he meant.
"Both of them? Really, Stiles?"
Stiles nodded, a wide-eyed but somehow still smug expression on his face. "Yeah?"
The Sheriff let his head fall into one hand again, rubbing at his temples. "Oh, God, Melissa was right about the pack orgies."
Stiles looked pained. "N - Well. Kinda. A little bit? Not really."
The Sheriff raised his eyebrows pointedly at his son.
"It's definitely not a whole-pack thing. Unless you count cuddle orgies. Are cuddle orgies a thing? Because they should be. They're kind of the best thing ever."
"Stiles...."
"Okay, okay, so it's more like this... you know how Scott and Derek are both alphas?"
"I've been wondering about that. But only Scott really has a pack?"
Stiles's face screwed up like he was trying to untangle a particularly knotted shoelace. "Well, that was kinda how we thought it was, for a while after Derek's eyes went red again, but that shouldn't have been possible. Not without a pack. Now we know he's part of ours."
The Sheriff frowned. "Okay, obviously you've told me about the alpha pack, so I know alphas can be in packs together, but didn't one of you say that that made them too unstable to have betas?"
Stiles sighed. "Well, normally, yeah, but there's a loophole.... Look, I was going to explain everything, but it's complicated, and I was going to organize all this, get it out of my head and into this space," he gestured in the direction of his room and his mystery board, "so I could see it all at once. Maybe get out the chessboard?"
The Sheriff grimaced. "Not the chessboard."
"Okay. Okay. So two alphas spending too much time in one place, that equals tension, right?" His hands flew as he gesticulated.
"Hence the worry over what they might do to their betas?"
Stiles looked at him exasperatedly. "Normally, yes, okay? But I'm telling you this is different!"
The Sheriff crossed his arms. "How?"
Stiles took a deep breath, clearly trying to settle. "So there's one way that two alphas can peacefully lead one pack together, and that's if they're mated."
"And Derek and Scott are... 'mated'?"
Stiles made a face. "No-o-o-ot exactly."
The Sheriff made an impatient 'continue' motion with one hand.
"Okay, so after Derek got his alpha mojo back, he wanted to stick around, but he knew he couldn't, because things weren't, you know, lining up for him and Scott. Not exactly. And besides, Scott had Kira, and the pack, and Derek didn't want to get in the middle of any of that. So he left to see if he could get another pack together. But that didn't so much work, either. And then when Scott and I went to college, he figured he'd come back, and it turned out that he meshed really well with the pack here, even if Scott, not so much."
"I'd kinda figured out most of that," said the Sheriff. "Not the... Kira part, but Derek and the pack and you guys shuffling around. So what changed?"
"So like I said, I got bit pretty much right before I came back for Christmas, and I was a little freaked out about possibly losing control around you or Melissa."
The Sheriff nodded. "Which was why whenever Scott wasn't here, Derek was."
"Yeah, nothing like some good old-fashioned alpha mojo to snap you out of a feral incident," Stiles agreed. "So they hung around, and everything was cool, so I thought I'd break the news of my supernatural species change until after the Christmas thing, so there wouldn't have to be freaking out and worrying, and yeah, I know, dumb idea, but anyway. It was smooth, like, too smooth, and at first they just thought they were getting used to smelling each other's scents on their betas, so it was getting easier to share? But it's actually a lot more complicated than that?" He cringed a little. "And I noticed that I'd start to feel a little weird when I wasn't around one of them, not like really bad-weird, just, you know, slightly off."
His dad snorted. "This is starting to sound like some Twilight nonsense," he said.
"Yeah, well, we were kind of already there, to be honest, huh, Chief Swan?" Stiles pointed out. "Your town... kinda full of werewolves and other creatures of the night. Anyway... it turns out they're not exactly an alpha pair - we're an alpha triad."
The Sheriff's eyes widened, and kept widening.
"Hey, you okay?" Stiles asked eventually.
"You're an alpha?" The Sheriff asked. "All three of you? Red eyes and everything?"
Stiles shrugged. "They're kind of... orange, a little like Parrish, maybe a little redder? Kinda like Kira's too, which I guess stands to reason. Derek was researching, he doesn't think werefoxes do the whole alpha-beta-omega thing because we're all about reproduction with whatever other werecreatures are around, and often that's the alphas that bit us."
"Okay," said the Sheriff, nodding slowly. "Okay. So, you're with them. Both of them. I, uh... I suspected I might be hearing that you were dating one of them, and I was prepared to be supportive either way. They're both great. I guess... I can live with the news being the best of both worlds in that area."
"But?" Stiles asked, examining his expression with concern.
"I'm still not clear on how this adds up to you possibly getting pregnant? I know I've talked to you about the mechanics of that, how to prevent it. Do we have to have that talk again?"
Stiles shook his head vigorously. "Nope! No. I am all clear on that front. All good. Plenty educated about the various methods of contraception." He frowned into the distance for a moment. "Although... I wonder if the pill would work on me? And if not, would it be because I've got balls most of the time, or because my new supernatural mojo would burn through it? Maybe both. So I don't wanna chance that."
"That's not exactly your only option," the Sheriff felt the need to point out. "If those boys aren't wrapping up...."
"God, Dad!" Stiles waved his hands over his head as if he were erecting a shield. "We haven't even done anything like that yet! We've barely messed around, and never while I've been shifted! And yes, we've all got them, just in case. But I'm still... not sure if that's always gonna end up seeming like a priority at the time."
"It had better," the Sheriff growled.
"We're going to make an effort, okay?" Stiles insisted. "But the way the stories talk about it... the heats... okay, it's not like they're gonna do anything I don't want, okay? I am so on board with this. With them. I want... I want a lot, anyway. But I'm not sure how intense it's going to be, and it's already pretty... hard to back off, sometimes, so if it's really as much more intense as they say it is? We might end up forgetting little details like... protection."
The Sheriff sighed internally. This is a conversation he'd really prefer not to be having, but it had to be done. "Right," he said. "Because contraceptives are just a minor detail here."
"Well, it's not like any of us can carry the usual STDs anymore, and...."
There was a long and ominous pause.
"What, Stiles?"
"Okay, is it weird if I kind of actually really want to have their puppies?"
The Sheriff really wished he could be elsewhere.
"Yes, Stiles," he said flatly. "Yes, that is weird."
Stiles sighed, forehead crinkled in a frown. "Why, though?" he asked.
"You're eighteen," the Sheriff answered.
"I'm almost nineteen!"
"Yes," said the Sheriff, in the same even tone. "Yes, Stiles, you are almost nineteen. And that really doesn't make it sound any better. You just started college, for Christ's sake."
"You know I'm only in a two year program, right? I'm done a good chunk of it already."
"And you want to go to class next year with a supernatural baby bump?"
"Hey," said Stiles, shrugging broadly. "It's not gonna be a total giveaway about the werecreature thing, okay? I won't be the only pregnant guy the world has ever seen!"
"Won't be?" The Sheriff frowned. "Stiles, are you seriously considering this?"
Stiles sighed. "Maybe?"
"You're too young."
Stiles flung his arms out. "That's what Derek keeps saying!"
"Well, he's right."
"Dad." Stiles was meeting his eyes now, voice dead serious, almost pleading, so the Sheriff listened. "Dad, I know I'm young, okay? I know there's a lot I don't know about what I want my life to be like. But I'm sure about them. I'm sure about the pack. And I'm sure that if this does happen? It's going to be great. It's going to be the best thing. I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to let it happen this year on purpose. But it might happen. And I guess that's what I've been worrying about telling you. Not that it's possible, but... that it's something I really want." He shrugged. "I mean I didn't even realize how much I did. I knew I still had parts of it to sort out, you know? It's a lot to process."
"You can say that again."
Stiles chuckled softly, and for a moment he sounded so much like Claudia that the Sheriff could hardly breathe.
"Enough people have died here because of freaky shit," Stiles told him, "and I kind of think it's about time the supernatural paid us back."
"Well," said the Sheriff, "you might be right about that."
"You okay?" Stiles asked his dad.
"Yeah," the Sheriff said, although his eyes were damp, now he came to think of it. "Yeah, I think I am. And I think you are, too."
Stiles grinned mischievously. "Yeah, I'm pretty great."
"Yeah, you are, kiddo," the Sheriff said. "Yeah, you are."
Well, Stiles was thinking critically about this decision, at least, wasn't committed to it yet, but the Sheriff still felt far too young to be becoming a grandpa. Some days. Other days, he felt ancient.
All of this was new, Stiles's new abilities, his new relationship (relationships?), hell, his life outside of the Beacon Hills school system was just getting started, and the Sheriff didn't want to see him jump into something as all-consuming as parenthood when his life was just opening up to wider possibilities.
And he wasn't sure how much of Stiles's desire to go through with this was him getting wrapped up in the novelty of it all and wanting to throw himself into his role as a werefox, boyfriend to two alpha werewolves, and mother.
Which was still, quite frankly, a combination a little too strange for the Sheriff to wrap his mind around, let alone fully approve of. He needed time.
Maybe it was the Sheriff who needed time, and not Stiles, at all. Maybe Stiles really was ready for all of this. Well, the Sheriff still had some time to get accustomed to this, and he thought he'd better make the most of it.
A couple of weeks later, he made sure all three of them were around for the weekend. He wanted a chance to see them together, now that he knew.
Right now they were watching a movie, settled in on the living room couch with Stiles sandwiched between the two werewolves, probably as close as they could get and still leave room for the natural movement of Stiles's elbows, which meant they weren't actually all that close.
Things between Scott and Stiles didn't seem that different than they'd been for most of their lives - there'd always been touching, hugging, light affectionate smacks. The addition of kisses didn't really seem that out of place. Just little light ones, like they were a couple, like they always had been and now they were feeling settled with each other.
With Derek, it was a little different - he didn't touch as much, but he was still focused on the two of them more than on the movie, smiling at Stiles when he wasn't looking, making sure the popcorn was right there every time he reached for it. And as the night wore on, they began to lean into each other sleepily, Stiles's head nestled into Derek's neck.
It was going to take some getting used to, but he'd never seen Stiles happier. Never seen him more cared for.
He couldn't get in the way of that.
The Sheriff pulled Scott aside before the two left.
"So," he began. "Babies?"
Scott looked a little wide-eyed and intimidated, but all he said was, "Yeah, maybe."
The Sheriff frowned at him. "This kinda seems like something where, if you're going to do it, you'd better be sure. No 'maybe's."
"Well, we're still thinking about it," Scott said. "It seems like it's too soon to be sure."
"But you think you might be sure in a few months?"
"I'm sure now that I want whatever Stiles and Derek want," Scott said, "and I think Stiles is the only one of us still trying to make up his mind. And it's his body, so. I'm gonna follow Stiles's lead on this one, Sheriff."
The Sheriff sighed. "Should've known. You tend to do that. And It's gotten you into a lot of trouble over the years."
Scott just smiled. "Gotten us out of a lot of trouble, too."
"I suppose I can't argue with that." The Sheriff watched him carefully. "Any idea which way Stiles is gonna jump on this?"
Scott gave a sharp bark of laughter, but his expression was fond. "Do I ever?" he said, but then he went thoughtful and serious, trying to find an answer. "I'm starting to think he really wants this," he said, "but he knows you'd think he's being impulsive." There was just a little bit of accusation in that look.
The Sheriff was pretty sure he deserved it for something in all this, but not about thinking Stiles didn't always look before he leaped.
"Isn't he?" the Sheriff asked. "You three have only been together, what, a month? At most?"
"Yeah," said Scott, "three weeks, officially. But you have to know... Stiles has always been the most important person in my life. It didn't feel like the beginning of something, with him. It just felt like... going forward, taking the next step."
"And with Derek?"
"Like finally letting something start that we'd been avoiding." He laughed a little. "Like all our fights had been building up to something."
The Sheriff shook his head. "I suppose it's no stranger than anything else that goes on in this town," he said. "Just be sure, all right? Don't go through with this unless all of you are sure."
"We won't," Scott agreed.
"You're a good kid," said the Sheriff, and patted him on the shoulder, giving him a dismissive nod.
Derek met him at the kitchen door, and they kissed, slow and meaningful, before Derek came in and Scott went out.
The Sheriff raised his eyebrows in question.
"I figure it's my turn to be interrogated," Derek said with a tiny smile, full of hidden humor, that told the Sheriff how much the werewolf had changed in the past few years. He was no longer the scared and angry young man he'd arrested back when everything was just beginning to spiral out of control.
"Yeah, I guess it is," the Sheriff agreed. "So what's your take on this? You think he's too young for kids?"
"I think he's too young to have pressure put on him to start a family," said Derek, "but I think he knows how much I want this. So I just want to balance things out a little."
The Sheriff blew out a breath. "You want kids now?"
"I've been fighting just to survive for a long time," Derek began. "It never felt safe to hope for more, not until now. But now I have them, I have the pack, and I want to start planning my life. I want to rebuild the Hale family." He took a shaky breath, and the Sheriff could tell how deeply he felt about this. "It doesn't have to be now. I can wait for them to be ready. I don't need it. But I want it so much it makes me ache. I miss my sisters and brothers and cousins all being underfoot. I know it's important that Scott and Stiles get a chance to finish school. I know how smart Stiles is, I know how much Scott cares about becoming a vet. But if we started this now, if we had a family, they'd have me. They'd have my resources, and my knowledge, and everything I have. Everything I am. And maybe that's not enough, but...."
"It's enough," the Sheriff told him gruffly. "And for what it's worth, all three of you would have me, too. I think I get it now."
"Really?" Derek asked, eyes widening slightly.
"It's just been Stiles and me for so many years now," he said. "And that's not how it was meant to be. Stiles's family has been too small for too long. So has Scott's. I guess I can't fault you, any of you, for wanting to get started on changing that."
"Thank you," Derek said, very quietly, and then the Sheriff was being wrapped up in a hug, a big, powerful thing that still managed to make it feel like Derek was clinging to him like a very young child.
"Of course," said the Sheriff, wrapping Derek up in his arms in turn. "You're pack, if I know anything about pack. And I know you've always done your best for all of the kids around here."
"Not good enough," Derek murmured into his shoulder. The Sheriff wasn't sure if he'd meant to speak aloud.
"Derek," he said, slow and clear. "Everything that's happened in this town, everything that's gone wrong, everyone who's been hurt - it's all happened under my watch, just as much as under yours. And my best wasn't good enough to stop it either. So let's not lay blame, huh?"
"All right," said Derek, quiet and a little unsteady. And he stayed in the Sheriff's arms for another quiet minute before he left, fingers tangling with Scott's as they went to the door.
They were all so young, even Derek, in many ways, but they all deserved some happiness, some normalcy, whatever normal ended up being for them.
It was just a few days into the boys' summer break, when a series of suspicious injuries resolved itself into something sinister.
Vampires, as if his life hadn't gone Twilight enough already.
But Stiles had a plan, and he wanted to be there to carry it out in person. He was as fascinated by the reality of vampires as anyone who knew him at all might have expected.
"Come on, guys," Stiles was saying. "I'm a shifter now. I can handle myself."
"You always could," Derek pointed out.
"We're not worried about you," Scott joined in from the other side.
Derek rubbed Stiles's arm as he spoke. "We're worried about the kits."
Scott smiled, raising his eyebrows. "And the kits were your call, just for the record."
Stiles sighed, looking back and forth between them. "Yeah... you're right," he said at last, a hand on his belly. "They're more important." He turned to kiss Scott, long and dirty and intimate, and then Derek, holding him so close and gripping so hard, it looked like it would have been dangerous for a human. "I'll see you both when you get back, okay? You both be smart and careful, too."
As much as the Sheriff could have gone without seeing that display, he figured it was worthwhile. All of this craziness. Stiles, as a boy, had refused to be deterred from going out and doing whatever reckless thing he had gotten into his head. And now....
Well, it took not only both of his mated-alpha-werewolf-boyfriends ganging up on him, but also the thought of his werefox babies, to push him to rethinking his plans, but it did happen. Stiles was growing up.
If it took all of that to get Stiles to be careful of himself, well, then, the Sheriff supposed he was grateful for all of that.
Belatedly, the Sheriff realized he was going to have two miniature versions of Stiles to deal with now, two superpowered, hyperactive orange fuzzballs.
Well, at least this time, they wouldn't be just his problem.