Chapter Text
Cora Hale was not known for her heart. That was Laura, the perfect eldest sibling, perfect child, perfect soon-to-be-Alpha. She was the compassionate one. Cora, on the other hand, was known for her cunning. She and Derek would get into tremendous amounts of trouble together. Gluing shoes to cement, replacing sugar with salt and making sure no one knew until their dad had his first cup of coffee, they did it all. And she never got caught.
If there was one thing Cora could do better than anyone else, it was hiding away until the suspicion had passed—she’d learned to do so at a young age, and she was the best at laying low until whatever danger she might be in had passed by.
So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when Stiles Stilinski, infamous human of the Hale pack and girlfriend to her older brother, Derek, showed up at her doorstep and asked for her help to run away. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was. Last Cora had heard about her friend and her brother, they’d been so in love that it was almost sickening to be in the same room as them both. Why Stiles would want to run away was beyond her. But the stench of fear, emotional pain, and desperation emenating from the girl stopped any protests Cora might have had. Instead, she set to work on teaching the woman she thought of as a sister how to run.
The next morning, Stiles and her precious blue jeep were gone, and Derek showed up at the apartment Cora shared with Peter, demanding to know where his girlfriend, or now ex-girlfriend, as of the night before, was. Cora, being the friend that Stiles had needed after Scott had almost completely abandoned her, told him that she didn’t know. It wasn’t a lie; Stiles hadn’t told her where she was going. But Cora also didn’t tell him about what she had taught Stiles before she’d left Beacon Hills.
She shouldn’t have lied to him, Cora thought now, because what she found when Stiles had called for the help of Peter and Cora both was almost too much to handle at one time.
In Stiles arms, nestled safely and close to her heart, was the tiniest baby Cora and Peter had ever seen. A mop of dark curls rested on top of the baby’s tiny head, falling close to the babies large, light brown eyes and contrasting sharply with its pale skin. Everything about the little baby was tiny; from its nose to the toes on its feet, everything was smaller than it should’ve been. But there was no mistaking the strong jaw and the thin lips as what was given to the baby by her father, or the curls and the large eyes that were so similar to the baby’s mother that it was almost scary. Even Cora, who wasn’t known for her heart or her brains, could see exactly whose daughter this was.
Stiles smiled up at them both, nodding at the incredulous looks she was getting from the two wolves. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, staring down at the bundle in her arms. The baby yawned, blinking up at its mother with tired eyes. Stiles smiled down at the baby, pressing a kiss to its head, before looking back up to the two and saying, “Peter, Cora, meet Rosamund Talia Stilinski.”
Peter was the first to snap out of his daze, stepping closer to his goddaughter and staring down at what he knew was his new grandniece. The baby looked up at him, her eyes flashing bright yellow for a moment, before stretching her arms up and grabbing at her great-uncle. Peter chuckled, looking up to Stiles for permission. She smiled at him and passed Rosamund to him, making sure he had a hold of her before going over to Cora.
Standing before the new aunt, Stiles glanced at her surprised face before looking down, as if afraid to meet her eye. Cora shook herself, trying to regain some sort of coherent thought. This woman, this wonderful, selfless, beautiful woman who had done everything in return for nothing, now had to deal with the child of the man who had driven her out of her home town, out of any life she had made in the mess of everything that had happened over her high school years. Right then, all Cora wanted to do was go back to Beacon Hills and beat her older brother senseless. Instead, she pulled the woman she had almost called her sister into a hug, breathing in her scent, before telling her that if she needed anything, anything at all, to just call her or Peter and they would do what they could.
From the relief in Stiles’ eyes, Cora could tell that it wasn’t what Stiles had been expecting to hear. She’d been expecting a reprimand, a demand to go back to Derek so that he would know he had a daughter. After she’d wiped away the few tears that had slid down her cheeks, Stiles had pulled Peter into a hug as well, ignoring the wolf as he grumbled about not being feared anymore, and left their meeting place, baby daughter strapped into the old jeep Stiles couldn’t bring herself to get rid of.
(Sometimes, Cora would think about why she’d kept it, and always came to the conclusion that it was the only thing Stiles had left that reminded her of the pack.)
Watching her drive away, Cora thought to herself, Derek you better find a way to fix your relationship, because she’s not going to want to raise her daughter by herself. Peter simply pulled Cora into a one-armed hug, leading her back towards his own little car and promising to help his goddaughter and new grandniece in every way possible, while trying his hardest to not tell his nephew until Stiles was ready to come back home. Until that time, she was under their protection, and Hales were extremely protective of their family.
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Stiles sighed, staring at the rearview mirror until she could no longer see Peter and Cora. It felt… good, almost relieving, to have someone who knew her secret. Up until now, her entire pregnancy had been a closely guarded secret, something that none of her family back in Beacon Hills had known about. With her godfather and her child’s aunt knowing, Stiles felt safer and ultimately more in control of her future.
Her daughter would grow up, with or without her father, but would be protected and loved by her great-uncle and aunt. She would grow up hearing stories of her mother’s exploits, but Stiles could only hope that her daughter would never be forced to adapt as Stiles had. It was part of the reason she wasn’t returning to Beacon Hills. She didn’t want her daughter in the middle of the supernatural action, and she didn’t want to risk her baby’s safety. Instead, they would live a life on the road, until Stiles felt like she could stop running.
A soft gurgle came from Rosemund’s car seat. Stiles looked back at her daughter, who looked so much like Derek that it sometimes physically hurt to look at the little girl, and smiled at the toothless grin her daughter was giving her. Yeah, they’d be just fine on their own. It would be good to get away from all the death and destruction anyhow.
But, of course, it wouldn’t be Stiles’ life without danger. As it was, Stiles didn’t notice the five pairs of glowing yellow eyes that were staring after her jeep. Stiles had just given birth to an unclaimed werewolf cub. Of course she wouldn’t be separated from the danger she’d tried so hard to run from. She was Stiles Stilinski, when was anything she did ever safe?