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"So, I need your help."
Those five words are enough to make Derek take a deep calming breath before he lowers his book and slowly turns to face Stiles.
"No."
Stiles mouth drops into something that Derek likens to a fish before he frowns and crosses his arms. "You don't even know what I'm going to ask," he replies, his foot tapping insistently from where he's standing but Derek just rolls his eyes and turns back to The Hobbit, more curious about how Bilbo plans on rescuing the dwarves than Stiles latest ridiculous request.
He gets through one line, a record really, before Stiles is perching on the coffee table in front of him and calling his name in a constant stream of "Derek, Derek, DerekDerek, DerekDerekDerek-"
"What!" he finally snaps and he has to physically put the book on the ground to resist throwing it at the stupid teen in front of him. Stiles gives him a wide grin (and Derek firmly ignores the butterflies that gives him) before reaching out to tap Derek's knees with his fingertips.
Nope. No butterflies.
"Look, it'll only be for a little bit. I promise. And I'll supply you with everything. Food, water, well I mean you don't need me to supply you with water because come on you have a working tap and everything, but I mean bowls and treats and toys and everything! I promise I will, and it'll only be for a little bit-"
"Stiles," Derek interrupts after a minute, reminding himself that violence is not okay, "what the hell are you on about?"
"IneedyoutolookafterSebastianforme!"
Contrary to popular belief, having super hearing didn't mean that Derek could unravel the wonders of Stiles talk, so after a moment of staring at the kid with a face of disbelief he offers a simple "what?"
Stiles jiggles in his seat for a moment before he bites his lip, takes a deep breath and asks, "I need you to look after Sebastian," in a lot slower voice, before adding a "please" like an after thought.
Derek humours him for a couple of seconds before sternly replying "no".
"But-"
"I don't know who 'Sebastian' is, but it is not coming into my house."
"He is a dog, and yes he is," Stiles snaps, glaring at Derek and Derek can't help but think that the kid needs a lesson in how to give glares. It's pathetic. "I'm not giving you a choice, Derek," he continues after a minute, "you're the only person I know who can actually have a dog. Everyone else is a teenager with parents who'll mind and it's just," he sighs and looks down at his hands, making Derek actually feel bad for a moment before looking up with one of the biggest puppy eyed looks he's ever seen.
And he's seen Scott's.
"He's going to be put down," Stiles bites out, "if someone doesn't take him today. And it's only because they don't have room for him anymore and no one wants him. I'll find him a new home, I promise, I just need more time."
Derek's surprised that his heart is actually going out to the kid before he sighs, "Stiles, did you consider the fact that you'll be bringing a dog into a werewolf-"
"Lair?" -and Derek cringes at the word- "Yeah! I mean, it'll make it easier because hierarchy and all that," and Stiles is grinning madly and Derek can't find it in himself to knock the kid back to reality. "Does this mean you'll do it?"
He looks at Stiles. Looks at the young kid who gets excited over a dog and can't help but think that he's screwed. Completely screwed.
"Yeah."
He's determined not to lose.
He refuses to bow under those eyes.
Those giant chocolate eyes that seem to be to big for its head and make him feel like the biggest baddest asshole there is.
"Stiles said only three a day," he reminds the small dog, and Stiles had laughed at his face when he'd brought in the 'tweenie' ("not miniature and not standard!" Stiles had said and Derek had resisted the urge to faceplam right then and there because what was he doing with his life) dachshund that had been hiding behind Stiles foot as it had looked up at Derek completely terrified. It hadn't come out until Stiles had finished giving Derek the run down about its care.
Which included not referring to it as an 'it'.
And no more than three treats a day.
And frankly Derek was getting annoyed by the small dog sitting patiently in front of the cupboard the treats were stored away in, maintaining eye contact with him from where he was on the couch and giving the occasional small whimper.
"I said no," Derek reinforces once more, tearing his eyes away and returning back to Eragon, wanting to at least try to get some reading done before the pack was due to invade in a couple of hours. Silence, thankfully, fell for a long time and Derek found himself being fully immersed in the writing, enjoying the way the story was being told.
Another whimper echoed through the room.
"You've got to be kidding me!" he roars and throws the book down, storming over to the kitchen and not feeling any regret as the dog yelps and scurries away, being small enough to fit under one of the counters. He stands in the kitchen for a long moment, assuring himself that he's just securing his dominance instead of getting pissy over a dog wanting treats, but his angry tirade stumbles to a stop as he sees the small creature.
A surge of anger at himself floods him for a moment as he sees the dog lying flat on its stomach, pressing as far back under the counter as it can get and he gets the sudden image of Isaac.
"H-Hey," he murmurs, dropping to his knees and shuffling towards the dog, his hand outstretched and he winces when the dog lets out a soft whimper and tries to scrunch back even more. He bites his lip, trying to figure out what to do before hesitating and reaching out a little further, "Sebastian?"
Another answering call.
He swears and sits back on his heels, considering calling Stiles for help but he had reassured the kid he'd be fine, that looking after a dog would be just like looking after the pack except simpler because a dog wasn't a hormonal raging teenager. He glances back at the cupboard before giving a resigned sigh and rocking back towards it, opening it up and pulling out a packet of the treats Stiles has given him.
"Sebastian," he tries again, trying to keep his voice firm but soft (because according to Stiles that was a thing) and he held his palm out with the treat sitting in the centre. "Come here… boy."
There's a small answering whine and large eyes pop out from underneath the counter, and Derek counts that as a win as he jiggles his palm with the calm reassurance of "here boy," under his breath.
It takes a minute or so, but the dog slowly crawls out and cautiously wanders up to his hand. Derek tries not to squirm at the feeling of the cold nose brushing over his fingers before little teeth scratch his palm and the dogs gone, treat and all.
He blinks, stunned for a minute.
"Stupid Stiles," he mutters as he returns to the couch.
The dog, and Derek refuses to refer to it as anything else, seems to avoid everyone for the first week. Only coming out when Stiles turns up (which is easy to know, you just have to listen for the sounds of unbelievable clumsiness) and strangely Isaac, both of whom turn up every day.
And no, Derek doesn't hide his smiles behind his books when Isaac spoils the dog with way too many treats than even he's willing to give it, nor when it all but demands Stiles attention as soon as he walks through the door.
(And no he doesn't get jealous that Stiles pays more attention to it than him.)
But in the second week when Erica comes bounding through the door, tugging Isaac and Boyd behind her, the dog decides to peek its nose out of the door of Derek's room, where it'd taken up residence in the corner on a pile of Derek's clothes, and after recognising Isaac it'd raced towards them.
What no one had expected was Erica's excited squeal as she sprinted towards the dog, already cooing madly.
Derek hadn't even thought about it really, but one moment he's reclining on the couch attempting to get sleep (because no one leaves him alone long enough for him to get any) and the next he's crouching over the cowering dog, snarling at Erica with his eyes flashing red.
She instantly falls back, the other two also dropping into similar submissive stances, and Derek lets out a snort at her version of puppy eyes (seriously, he's know Scott, Stiles and this stupid dog, she's got nothing on them) before glancing down at the dog between his legs.
He wants to groan at those large puppy eyes blinking back.
But when the dog nudges the hand splayed on the ground, it's wet nose rubbing from his thumb up his wrist, he finds himself melting a little bit. He resists the urge to nuzzle into the long hair on the dogs neck but it doesn't matter as the dog licks him once before scurrying back off to his room.
As soon as he gives a short growl of dominance, letting the other three know it's okay to move again, Isaac is taking off after the dog, hissing at Erica as he flies past. She rolls her eyes at him before following Derek and Boyd back to the couch, arching an eyebrow at Derek.
"A dog, huh?"
"Stiles," is all he says before deciding to ignore them both by picking up The Hunger Games, more interested in Katniss and Peeta and why on earth his name is spelt like that.
Of course, once the trio have disappeared out the door for the night and he's actually left in peace, the sound of his door creaking open gets his attention and he looks up in time to see the dog trotting towards him, looking for all the world nervous as it pauses in front of the couch.
Derek would say that something passed between them, but he doesn't want to sound crazy so instead he just turns back to his book and doesn't flinch as the dog jumps onto the couch and curls up into a ball at the other end, falling sleep.
The worst part he decides, is going to the store to find dog food. He can't help but think that the dog knows exactly what kind of weird looks he gets given when he ends up buying one of every kind of dog and cat food there is (because frankly Stiles is a lying little shit, and hasn't gotten food for the dog) and carrying them all in three separate bags, along with all the food he himself needs.
Yes, he looks like a crazy dog and cat man.
But the dog gets these smug looks on its stupid face when Derek trips through the door with his bags upon bags of groceries, swearing under his breath, and Derek finds himself glaring at the stupid dog. On the occasion swearing too.
It's when it gets to dinner time that he really hates it though. He ends up sitting on the ground surrounded by different kinds of food, the dog sitting in front of him with its bowl separating them, and they take turns. Derek scoops out a little bit of food from one can, the dog sniffs it and sometimes tries it. If it's a yes, Derek writes it down, if it's a no he throws it out and tries another one.
They change every night.
By the fourth night Derek is convinced that he's spent at least half his inheritance, which isn't exactly small, on animal food, and it's not until he's stuffing his face with some chicken he'd found in his freezer and he accidentally drops some on the ground that he finally witnesses the dog eat something willingly and actually ask for more.
He tries it the next night with some beef, in the form of half a steak.
"Huh," he voices as he watches the dog scoff it down, "human food."
And Derek tries not to think about the fact he's now cooking for two and giving the second helping to a stupid dog he has to look after.
Of course when Stiles finds out and starts going on a "healthy food makes a healthy dog!" tangent, Derek just slams the door in his face and hands the dog a chicken breast with a "knock yourself out" under his breath.
He tries not to think about it too hard when the dog starts to whine when he leaves the apartment, scratching at the door and being all round miserable until Derek's completely out of earshot, but by the time he ends up back at home the whining has turned into pathetic whimpers as the dog waits by the door.
So he decides to take him, and yes he's actually acknowledging the dogs gender now (and yes Stiles is proud), for a run with him.
The trip out to his old house is quiet and still, the only noise being the calm classical music Stiles had insisted he listen to, something about being mysterious, and the occasional scraping of dog claws against the leather seats. Besides that though there's nothing as the dog sits in the backseat, not even looking out the window because Derek can feel his eyes bore into the back of his head.
He tries to not let himself feel uncomfortable at that.
It takes him a moment when he gets out of the car to figure out whether he should put on a lead or not, but he decides not as he opens the door and lets the dog out, trusting him to come back to him. The dog stares up at him, blinking a few times as if waiting to see what he's about to do, and Derek takes a deep breath before turning to the tree line.
"Well come on then," he calls as he starts a gentle jog, hearing the scattering of leaves as the dog takes off beside him, racing to keep up. He lets the noises trail into the familiar sounds of the forest though, not really focusing on the dog besides a heartbeat as he jogs along the trail he's making up as he goes.
He darts over branches and small potholes he comes across, not letting them stop his rhythm as his pace begins to fasten and soon he's running, pumping his muscles as he flies over the ground, the thumping of his feet accompanying the thumping in his ears.
Of course, it's when the small heartbeat he's come to recognise as the dog's disappears he realises he might've been running too fast for it, and that all those small meaningless obstacles for him would've been giant to the dog. He slams to a grinding halt, panic building in his throat as he turns around and begins to jog back, straining his ears to try locate the little heartbeat.
He hears it, the uncontrollable thumping, just as he sees the dog. He can't help but grin as he stumbles to a halt once again and watches him racing over the ground, little legs pumping furiously as he avoids as many obstacles as possible, tongue hanging out of his mouth and coat completely soaked in sweat.
As soon as he reaches Derek's feet he collapses, panting heavily but looking for all the world completely pleased with himself.
Derek smiles as he crouches down, reaching out to trail his fingers over the glistening coat, turning his nose up at the hot wetness sticking to his fingers.
"Sebastian's a stupid name," he says after a moment, and those large brown eyes are looking at him like everything he has to say is worth listening to, "I think Trooper is better."
And with that he scoops Trooper up and holds him close to his chest as he jogs back to the car.
Derek remembers that when he was younger he used to ask his mother if, as they were werewolves, they shed. His mother would always laugh and pat him on the head with a "don't be silly, dear" while Laura called him a moron.
For some stupid reason, Derek thought the same thing towards dogs, that they didn't shed unless they were those great big dogs, and he hadn't expected Trooper to shed at all.
Stiles had laughed his ass off and said that Trooper was a long-haired dachshund, and Derek tried to translate that and ended up just googling it.
Of course he had to get the one out of many kinds of dachshund that shed. He'd sat at the computer swearing under his breath, now understanding the black and brown hairs that were trailed around the place, before he'd glanced down to see Trooper staring up at him with his head cocked to the side, looking curious and (dare he say it) adorable.
So that was how Derek found himself wrestling with a midget dog on the floor of his living room as he tried to brush it.
"Stay the hell still!" he cries as Trooper wriggles madly, squirming out of his grip and making Derek swear as he falls into Derek's lap and takes off, sprinting towards the counter he likes to hide under. Instantly Derek is lunging forward, wrapping a hand around the long body and lifting Trooper up a bit, the short legs of the dog suddenly not touching the ground.
"Gotcha!" he declares, not feeling the slightest bit bad about using the dogs height against him. He smirks at the dog who glares back at him before suddenly a pair of sharp little teeth are digging into his fingers and he's yelping, dropping Trooper who sprints for the counter and squashes flat against the ground to crawl into the gap.
Derek groans and sits back against the other counters, muttering under his breath at the annoyance of this stupid mutt.
He swears he hears the thing laughing.
The first time Trooper hurts himself, Derek finds himself winding up into a full blow panic attack. He's calling up Stiles faster than he can blink and has a whimpering Trooper already piled into the car, wrapped up in Derek's leather jacket. He doubts Stiles can understand him, but he assumes the kid understands "vet" and "Trooper" so he hangs up and guns it to Deaton.
As soon as he barrels in, and Scott sees his pale face, Trooper is taken from him and he's told to sit and wait. Derek keeps fidgeting though, unable to sit still as he keeps glancing towards the door where Deaton and Scott's murmuring can be heard from.
"Whazzhappening!" Stiles demands as soon as he throws open the doors, and Derek is surprised he didn't hear the kid turn up, but he just glances up at Stiles who's instantly by his side and surprisingly lets out a little whimper. "Derek?" he asks softly, and Derek can't help but think it's a bit sad he's being treated like a child, "what happened?"
"He… he fell off the couch and… I mean I didn't mean to leave the knife and there was just so much blood," and Derek feels his chest tightening and his breaths coming out a bit harsher because he didn't realise.
"Oh, Derek," Stiles sighs and Derek doesn't resist as he's pulled into Stiles' chest, and he finds himself bumping his head up into the hand hovering over his hair, asking for some comfort. Stiles shushes him quietly, the hand falling down to stroke his hair as he murmurs it'll be okay.
As soon as Scott opens the door though Derek is up and in his face, demanding to know if Trooper is okay.
"He's fine," Scott replies with a tired smile, "the cut isn't too bad, it's just along his side so its not bad enough to have stitches, but it'll be tender for a couple of weeks. He'll be fine though, just keep him rested." Scott's smile turns into one of reassurance and Derek lets out a deep breath before he pushes past Scott and into where Deaton is hovering over Trooper.
After Deaton confirms what Scott's already said and allows him to take Trooper home, Derek finally begins to settle down.
Even though he spends the next two weeks relieving as much pain as he can from Trooper every chance he gets.
It seems like they've actually bonded in the four weeks they've been lumped together, Trooper and Derek. And Derek can't find it in himself to care that he's growing more attached to a dog than his pack.
Erica isn't too faze on Trooper, not since Derek told her off for treating him like a baby. Boyd can take him or leave him, and Trooper seems to have the same feelings. Derek swear Isaac and Trooper are having some sort of forbidden relationship, with less… bestiality because they're attached at the hip whenever Isaac turns up.
And Derek still maintains that he's not jealous whenever Stiles pays more attention to Trooper than him.
Scott's surprised he's actually willing to look after the dog and offers him free vet care on Deaton's (also surprised) behalf, Jackson doesn't care but Derek sees him feeding Trooper treats from the 'forbidden' cupboard ("Stiles, it's not like anyone is going to listen to you", "Shut up, Derek,") and Lydia and Allison continuously gush over the adorableness that is the little dachshund following Derek's every move.
Derek has to admit that his favourite part of Trooper though, is whenever Peter walks in the room and Trooper just glares.
But no, really, its the quiet moments when he's reading one of his many books and Trooper either splays out on his lap, having gravitated from his end of the couch, or curls up against the backside of his thighs and knees if Derek pulls his legs up onto the couch. The quiet reassuring heat against his legs is calming, and Derek admits that he likes to reach out and rub his fingers over the soft fur on Trooper's neck.
It's Stiles who interrupts him in the middle of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, bustling in the room with what smells like chinese, already talking at a hundred miles an hour, and Derek winces as Trooper's claws dig into a leg before he's launching himself at Stiles, whining happily. Derek rolls his eyes at the excited exclaim from Stiles and he reaches up to dog-end the page before placing it on the coffee table.
"Stiles," he greets, and the kid looks up with a huge grin, his arms full of happy dog (and no Derek doesn't want to lick Stiles face like Trooper).
"Derek!" and Derek can't get over how genuinely happy he actually sounds to see him, "I brought dinner for us. We need to have a chat."
Derek can't even get words out before Stiles is putting Trooper down before reaching over to get the chinese, his shirt riding up a bit as he just extends his torso.
(… maybe he'd prefer to lick elsewhere.)
He promises to reprimand himself later as Stiles comes bounding over, plopping down beside Derek on the couch and leaning forward to pull out containers onto the table, chatting all the time about school or something. He doesn't really pay that much attention, just content to listen to the buzzing of Stiles' voice.
They eat quickly as they curl up on the sofa, and Derek's completely stunned over the fact the kid still manages to keep up with him whilst talking about lacrosse and Scott and how much of an asshole Jackson really is, along with telling Derek off for feeding Trooper small pieces of beef and chicken when he thinks Stiles isn't watching. He just laughs at Stiles 'mothering' face and shovels in another mouthful of fried something while Stiles shakes his head affectionately.
He can't help but think just how domestic it all is.
But it's when they've finished and left nursing their drinks while watching Trooper shuffle about the floor dragging things around until he's created a little nest of both Derek and Stiles' jackets to curl up in, that Stiles finally takes a deep breath.
"I found him a home."
Derek doesn't want to admit that he chokes on his drink, but he does and he glances up to see Stiles looking a bit worried.
"Oh."
"Yeah," Stiles sighs and places his drink on the table, his hands returning to curl around his knees before they just reach forward to lightly settle on top of Derek's. "Cute family, two middle-aged kids. Their own dog just died and they're looking for a replacement, but the parents don't have time to adopt a puppy to raise, so they said they'd take Sebastian."
Derek's silent for a long moment, looking down at the small dog wrapped up in their clothes. "Trooper," he mumbles, "his name is Trooper."
He sees Stiles sad smile at of the corner of his eye before he hears him say, "yeah, Trooper."
He closes his eyes for a brief moment before looking up at Stiles, "when?" he asks and Stiles squeezes his hands.
"I take him to them day after tomorrow," and Derek's just nodding along as he feels his chest tighten.
"Hey Buddy," Derek calls out as Trooper slips into his room, making his way over to the pile of clothes he'd claimed as his bed. He pauses for a moment, glancing up at Derek and he swears the dog actually looks betrayed before shuffling away.
Derek bites his lip and reluctantly returns back to The Great Gatsby, trying not to think that he had betrayed him.
He can't focus though, his eyes gliding over the words but not really absorbing them. He's too busy thinking about today, about how Isaac had all but spent the whole day with him, right up until the last minute where he'd starting sobbing over losing Trooper. Derek hadn't realised just how attached Isaac had gotten. Even Erica and Boyd had stopped into say goodbye to the dog, Boyd scratching him behind the ears and Erica giving him a acknowledging nod. Jackson had been dragged along by Scott, Allison and Lydia, the girls wishing Trooper good luck, Scott 'escorting' them to the vet for Trooper's final check up and Jackson giving Trooper more treats than strictly necessary.
Derek hadn't stopped any of them though. Trooper had sort of become pack, everyone falling in love with him, and he knows that Stiles must've realised as he'd given Derek a small one-armed hug before leaving tonight, reassuring him it'll be okay and he'd see him in the morning.
Derek knew they'd be okay, he just also knew it sucked.
He sighs, realising he's not going to get any more reading done, and reaches out to pick up the wooden wolf bookmark Stiles had given him ("It's a disgrace the way you dog-end them!", "It's not like I have a bookmark," "You do now!") and slips it between the pages before turning off the light and snuggling beneath the covers.
Its silent for a long time, Derek just staring at the wall he can vaguely make out as he taps his fingers rhythmically against the mattress.
The sound of Trooper fossicking around draws his attention briefly before he groans and flops back against the pillows. He knows he's on edge, and he knows it'll drive him insane, but he can't help it.
A sudden weight hitting his bed followed by the thump of something hitting the ground and pained yelp makes him sit up, eyes wide as he scrambles to turn on the light and look over the bedside.
The sight of a dejected Trooper looking up at him pulls his heart strings, and he watches as the little dog gets up before taking a running jump for the bed, only to fail and hit the ground.
Derek swears under his breath before he's reaching forward and scooping up the dog in his arms, smiling as Trooper nuzzles his throat with that creepy wet nose, before he falls back and deposits him on the pillow beside his. Those big brown eyes stare at him for a long moment until he offers Trooper a small smile as he turns off the light and slips back down under the covers.
He will never admit that his eyes sting as Trooper moves over and curls into his chest, a small sigh coming from the dog as Derek raises an arm and curls it around him.
"Goodnight, Trooper," he whispers to his dog, running his fingers through the soft hair against his hand before finally burying his face into that soft hair covering Trooper's neck.
A gentle whine is heard in reply and Derek closes his eyes.
"No," is all he says when he opens the door to look at Stiles, the kid raising an eyebrow until he sees the hair covering Derek that's definitely not his own and sees the half asleep dog growling half-heartedly at the lead in Stiles hand.
"Oh, thank god," and Derek suddenly has an armful of inexperienced but highly enthusiastic Stiles with his lips against his own and he can't help but laugh, the sound mixing with Trooper's cheerful barking.
