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Late August
Even before Stiles opened the door to the Beacon Hills Veterinary Clinic, Teo’s face wrinkled round his nose. The exaggerated expression would’ve made a great photo, Stiles thought, but he knew his little guy’s olfactory powers were already sensitive as Derek’s, often to smells Stiles couldn’t detect at all.
But full of cats and dogs, the place had a strong odor to Stiles too.
“Aww, baby boy, is it too stinky for you?—Papa’s sorry!” he said.
Scott had texted him, finding Stiles out running errands with Teo, and so had requested he come to the clinic for what Scott declared was “big news” he’d like to deliver in person.
As usual, it tickled Stiles to no end, asking the receptionist for “Dr. McCall.”
“Let him know Stiles is here, please.”
While they waited Teo got a good look at a little dog panting in the lap of the only other person in the room. Teo didn’t get to see real animals often. Stiles wondered if the wolf in his lycanthrope child was apparent to other creatures, the way cats and dogs sometimes avoided Derek for such a reason. Teo’s inner wolf was still just a pup and the lap dog a few feet away seemed oblivious of any possible threat. Obviously Scott’s wolf wasn’t a problem, considering his success at the clinic—but then Scott was pretty much a puppy himself.
As Stiles was trying to get Teo to say “doggie,” Dr. McPuppy appeared, in a white coat too, and led them to an exam room in the back.
“What’s the news?” Stiles queried right off. He hadn’t planned on being out long and the price of this visit could quickly become a hungry, cranky baby werewolf.
“Let me finish with a patient first,” Scott said, disappearing then immediately returning with a towel-lined crate, in it a yellow-eyed tuxedo kitten.
The clinic worked with a few shelters, providing check-ups, shots, spaying, neutering.
“He’s got a clean bill of health,” Scott pronounced, before disappearing again.
Teo, never this close to a kitten before, made a shrill sound, reaching for it.
“You know what that is?” Stiles asked him.
“Eeeeeee!” Teo squealed.
“It’s a kitty!”
“Deee! Deee!” Teo twisted in Stiles’s arms to get nearer the fluff ball.
Stiles gently scratched the kitten’s head, pleased that it just pressed into the contact. Then he lifted it in one hand and carefully brought it closer to Teo.
“You have to be gentle, Tay.—It’s just a baby.”
The kitten mewed plaintively and Teo stilled, looking at his papa, as if for some explanation.
“He said ‘hello,’ Tay.”
Teo’s response was to match his irises to the kitten’s golden yellow ones.
The kitten grumbled then.
“Oh boy,” Stiles sighed. “Back in the box with you, fella.”
Teo whined as the kitten was returned.
Then Stiles sat on a chair in the exam room and softly tapped Teo’s nose.
“No wolfie now, baby boy.”
Teo first started flashing golden irises at around three months old. He most often flashed them in reaction to Derek’s flashing his and almost never while alone with Stiles.
Derek thought it wise to discourage Teo’s wolfing out in public, if for no reason other than encouraging the boy’s self-control (or wolf-control.)
“Hey, hurry up, Scotty boy,” Stiles said aloud, knowing Scott could hear him.
Teo squirmed and held out an arm in the direction of the box. His eyes had returned to human, a color somewhere between amber and hazel. But just then Scott’s voice came from outside the room.
Soon as Scott re-entered he went right for Teodor, for he was a very fond uncle.
“Hey, little dude! Did you like the kitty?” He took Teo from Stiles’s arms.
Teo always scented his Uncle Scott, but when he just looked confused and didn’t scent mark him Stiles figured it was due to all the other animal scents covering his veterinarian uncle.
“The smells in here are getting to him,” Stiles explained, when the look on Scott’s face revealed his concern. “And, uhhm, he got one look at the cat’s eyes and flashed his.”
“He did? Wow.”
Scott scooped up the kitten securely and held it close enough for Teo to touch at last.
“It’s a kitty cat, Teo.”
“Deee!” Teo gurgled, delighted to have the strange thing in reach again. He gingerly touched it with all his fingers.
The kitten, now indifferent to Teo, seemed more concerned about being so far above solid ground and began wriggling.
Scott kept its head level with Teo’s, as if trying to get the boy’s wolf to come forth again.
“Your news?” Stiles asked again. Derek had already texted, asking where was his family.
Scott paused dramatically—dramatically for Scott. He broke out a huge grin and stared at Stiles.
“I’m gonna be a dad,” he said. “A co-dad.”
Varieties of surprise lit up Stiles’s face. “Scott! What? ’Co-dad’? Hunh?”
“We have a surrogate.—And it’s Isaac’s—stuff.”
Standing up and nearly lunging to hug his bff, “’Stuff’ as in—sperm?” Stiles ventured.
Stiles had accepted that when it came to Scott they might always remain the boys they’d been when they bonded in grammar school.
“Yeah,” Scott answered.
After an eye-roll, “That’s great, Scotty!” Stiles cried. “Fatherhood’s—it’s—well, you’re gonna find out.—But why’re you saying ‘co-dad?’”
“Co-dad is a thing, Stiles!” Scott asserted, then retreated. “I don’t know, because it’s Isaac’s—“
“Yeah, Isaac’s ‘stuff.’ But you’re gonna raise the kid too, right? So you’ll be its dad.—“Are you gonna call it your ‘co-kid’?”
“No.”
Suddenly the beaming smile dimmed a little.
“I’ve been holdin’ out on ya, buddy,” Scott confessed.
That information surprised Stiles since Scott was always a terrible secret-keeper.
“I’ve known since last month. But it’s still so new, Stiles.—It’s like—I heard the heart beat so strong and clear this morning. The mom—do I call her ‘the mom’?—The surrogate’s—hell, her name’s Anya.—She’s great.—Anya’s about twelve weeks pregnant. She’s in the Morgan pack, one of the Hale pack allies.—Talia Hale really helped us out finding her.”
They’d celebrated Teo’s first birthday the past weekend, on the Hale grounds, and nobody had said a word about any baby other than Teo.
“Scotty, OK, slow down.—Surrogate, Isaac’s ‘stuff’?”
“Surrogate, donor egg, Isaac’s stuff. The donor’s a were, Anya’s a were.—We’d like a little were.”
Scott had returned the kitten to its box, and the bored, squirmy Teo to Stiles.
“You’re gonna have a cousin, Tay!” Stiles whispered excitedly.
Teo had no immediate comment.
Then Stiles looked back at Scott. “So, twelve weeks now, that means—”
“The baby’s due in February.”
“OK, then Teo’ll be... a year and a half.—That’s enough to be a big brother, isn’t it?—I can’t wait to tell Derek!”
“We’re not telling everyone yet. Just my mom knows, and now you.”
“And Derek,” Stiles insisted, politely.
“OK, Derek. But keep it to yourselves for now.”
“Fine.—But why—Isaac’s—?”
“Next time, next kid, we’ll use mine.”
“You’re planning a second kid, already?”
“Who knows? Maybe more.”
“Scott—OK. But, this one little guy here,” Stiles head-gestured to Teo, then put his free hand by his mouth and stage whispered, “He’s a lot of work!”
“I know,” Scott sighed—though he really didn’t know. “It’s just a long range plan.” He paused, looked Stiles in the face, then blurted out: “You know, bro… I thought you’d totally flake… when you became a father.”
Stiles gasped—it could’ve been fake, could’ve been genuine. He held up Teo in front of Scott. “Teodor, tell your uncle I’m a great father!”
“Yes, you are. Now.” Scott admitted. “But at first, come on, dude.”
Conceding, “Yeah,” Stiles said.
There was another pause.
“We never even had pets to practice our care-taking skills on,” Scott said.
“You had that hamster—for a week!” Stiles laughed, not with humor.
The memory of Henry the disappearing hamster made Scott frown.
Stiles intervened. “OK. Forget that.—You’ve got Isaac—just like I’ve got Derek. Our husbands more than make up for any deficiency in our parenting skill set.” Stiles wasn’t actually going to admit that he had any such deficiency—any more than he was actually going to admit he had such faith in Isaac.
“Speaking of husband… we gotta get goin’. Sorry.”
Teo griped at the same moment, enabling Stiles’s exit, and at the same moment Scott’s pager beeped, so the impromptu meeting was officially concluded.
Stiles realized he hadn’t said anything like formal congratulations yet so he did that, with a one-armed bro hug.
“You need anything—like,” Stiles groped after what he was actually offering, settling on “—advice….”
There were awkward moments between the two long-time friends exactly never, but one had arisen.
“Dude, of course,” Scott resolved it, reprising their former selves.
“Really, Scotty, congratulations,” Stiles repeated, hugging once more.
“OK. Get goin’.—Bye, little dude!” Scott held Teo’s hand and shook it while Teo just looked at the action with no comprehension of what his uncle was doing.
“Say ‘bye-bye’ to Uncle Scott, Teo.”
When Teo responded with “Bah!” because Papa and Daddy always told him to say that, “That works,” Stiles declared, then found his way out, through the waiting room where now different people and pets sat. Then he was back in the fresh air.
He’d never know that with his news to share Scott had completely forgotten he’d meant to try persuading Stiles to adopt that kitten.
“You both smell like a hundred kinds of pee,” Derek announced soon as Stiles entered the kitchen, Teo in his arms. Derek’s wrinkled nose looked exactly like Teo’s had at the clinic.
“We were at Scott’s.—He told me—”
Derek lifted Teo from Stiles and the two ‘wolves eagerly scent marked each other.
“I’m listening,” Derek assured his mate, though that was likely only half true as he headed to the stairs and up, calling to Stiles, “Follow me.”
Derek’s goal was Teo’s changing table where he began removing the offending clothing and cleansing Teo’s body with werewolf-approved wipes.
He was focused on his task until Stiles proclaimed, “Scott and Isaac are having a baby,” which made Derek whip his head around.
Then with his husband’s full attention Stiles filled in the details, at the end asking, “Your mom never said anything to you about helping them find a surrogate?”
“No. But if they wanted privacy…” He resumed changing Teo and left the sentence unfinished.
“Well, it’s a new pup in the pack.” Stiles paused. “Good, right?” though that wasn’t the question he really wanted an answer to.
“Of course it’s good.”
With his baby boy stink-free and freshly dressed Derek began enthusiastically kissing his cheeks and neck, while Teo wiggled and squeed.
“And maybe a playmate for Tay,” Stiles added.
“Mm-hmm,” Derek agreed though he kept up the kissing and nuzzling.
Stiles looked on quietly until he asked, “Any chance your husband can get in on some of that?”
Derek halted, gave Stiles a look, leaned forward, lips in an exaggerated pucker and let only their lips make contact.
“Not until you shower and put on clean clothes,” he answered.
Stiles tsked. “Gonna let a little cat pee keep you off all this?” He gestured at himself like a glamorous model presenting top prize on a game show.
Derek had already stepped past him toward the stairs. “Yup!” he popped, impersonating one of Stiles’s own signature responses.
Stiles stopped him in his tracks. “Derek, do we want one too—another kid?”
The question was a serious one, very serious, but since Teo’s arrival it hadn’t come up often if at all. It had hung in a kind of limbo anyway, always. Derek came from a big family; Stiles was an only child. Each could understand the other preferring for his own child what he’d known growing up but neither would insist on it. So they’d decided not to decide for the time being. Teodor was more than enough for them to handle and they were more than happy with him alone, for now.
The only reason Stiles was asking was Scott, not yet the father of even one, talking about having the next one.
Derek, stalled at the top of the stairs, just kept his eyes on Stiles as he drew near, till they stood face to face.
Derek shrugged, slowly. His eyebrows rose and fell.
Stiles hadn’t intended any tension, so he broke it.
“Teo, would you like a baby sister or baby brother?”
Teo kept his fingers in his mouth until Stiles’s steady gaze drew a response from him, an emphatic, happy “Bahba!” which both fathers knew meant “papa,” not an answer to the question.
“Guess that means we wait till you can talk,” Stiles said.
Derek kissed him, this time, despite his malodorous aura, with much more feeling. It lasted till Stiles felt Teo’s slobber-wet hand splat on his face.
“OK, now shower time,” he decreed, backing away from his husband and child. “Is dinner happening?”
“I’m already on it,” Derek answered and proceeded down the steps.
The question of another baby for the Stilinski-Hales floated back into limbo.
Mid September
“Stiles—!”
Scott’s voice hadn’t attained that particular pitch since the night before his wedding, when he was convinced Isaac had run away with the wedding planner.
(Isaac was at the grocery store and had forgotten his phone in the car.)
“—He wants to pay off her house!” Scott railed. “He thinks we should start a trust fund for her kids!”
Stiles knew Scott had to be in his office still, to be complaining that loudly about Isaac, the husband on whom he doted.
Pre-parental nervous crises were already a thing, though the baby wasn’t due for at least five more months. Isaac, after sessions with the doctor, the surrogate herself and even Talia Hale, was aware of surrogacy protocols but still felt compelled to do more in gratitude to the woman carrying his firstborn.
Scott, on the other hand, simply freaked out, so far on a weekly basis.
This was not Stiles’s first call to bro-duty, but it was the first since Teo’s reaching the milestone of crawling. Fortunately Derek was on the floor somewhere in the house with the self-locomoting newbie when Scott called.
“I remind him, we got our own house to pay off, our unborn child is gonna need our mon—”
“Scotty,” Stiles interrupted calmly. “Just breathe—remember how many times you said that to me?”
What he heard through the phone sounded like air jetting through Scott’s nostrils.
“Yeah. Thanks, man.” Scott exhaled.
Stiles was liking his role as experienced elder in this parent game.
“Even if Isaac makes the offer, Anya and her husband will gracefully decline, I’m sure.”
“I know. But why’s he—?”
“Hey! No. Breathe.” But Stiles knew some venting was necessary.
“Tell me something you’re enjoying about this,” he suggested, wondering if the actual elder in Scott’s life, Dr. Deaton, had been of any help. “Thought of any names yet?”
From the way Scott repeated “’Thought of any names yet’?” Stiles feared the subject wasn’t the safe one he’d wanted.
“He’s got at least a dozen, and I mean a dozen for a girl and a dozen for a boy.”
Stiles heard and seized on a single word: “’He’? What about—you?”
“Aw, Stiles, Isaac’s so happy about this baby.” Scott’s tone shifted so completely if Stiles weren’t already getting used to it he might have felt dizzy. “He’s on all these baby name sites. He says all the different names aloud to hear how they sound with our last name… It’s so… cute.”
Oh my god, Stiles thought. “So you’re not contributing at all to name choice.”
At that moment the sound of laugh-shrieks struck Stiles’s ear, but Scott was talking again.
“He asks what I think of every one. And we agreed we both have to like a name to give it to the baby.”
“OK.” Stiles wasn’t convinced but the nearing baby-laughs were becoming very distracting.
“Good thing, too,” Scott continued. “Some of the boy names Isaac’s picked… I don’t know.”
“Like what?”
“Noel.”
“Noel?”
“Noel.”
“Yeah—already sounds like we’re singin’ a Christmas carol,” Stiles quipped.
“How about Lionel. Or Landis.—Isaac says he likes unusual names.—You can’t argue against that, bro.”
“I’m not—but I am noticing a fixation with L’s and N’s.”
“Yeah,” Scott sighed. He’d definitely recovered his calm. “But that’s what makes it easy for me to remember ‘em.—I like the girl names more.”
“What are they,” Stiles asked, preparing for he didn’t know what.
He heard Derek laugh, high and giddy, in the next room. Stiles was feeling gravitationally drawn to it.
“Anaïs,” Scott began.
“Well, that’s classy.”
“Margo.”
“Also cool.”
“I really like the sound of this one—Madeleine.”
“Madeleine Lahey-McCall,” Stiles recited. “Does have a nice ring to it.”
At that moment Teo, on hands and knees, appeared at the kitchen entrance.
After some babble, “Bapah! Et doh!” he cried from the floor. Then turned about, back toward where he’d been, only to be blocked by his daddy immediately behind him and also on his hands and knees.
“Did he just say ‘Let’s go’?” Stiles asked Derek.
“He did,” Derek answered. “We’re racing.”
Scott had heard everything. “I’ll let ya get back to your family,” he laughed. “I really gotta thank you, brother, for listening to me.”
“What’s a brother for?” Stiles assured him.
When the call ended Stiles joined the racers, down on his hands and knees, Teo in between.
“OK! Let’s go!” he called out.
Giggling euphorically Teo scooted forward, champion crawler within only days of doing it the first time. His dads moved slowly, to let Teo “win,” but when Teo got ahead of them he stopped and waited, encouraging the slow-pokes to catch up with an “Et doh!”
Stiles drooped his head, laughing and a little overcome. Otherwise he’d start crying out of pure joy.
Mid November
As the Sheriff parked the cruiser in front of the house he had to smile again, remembering Stiles’s words.
Originally Melissa McCall had invited everyone to her place for a “big announcement” from Scott and Isaac. But Stiles had requested a relocation: “Why don’t you come here. It lowers the potential for destruction.”
Outside the front door of his son’s and son-in-law’s home John Stilinski’s smile grew wider. He could hear the door knob being jiggled from the other side, Teo babbling, then Stiles’s voice, “Let Papa open it. You can’t reach.”
John braced for impact.
He decided instead to bend and pick up his grandson from where Stiles held him back by a shoulder, soon as the door was out of his way.
“Hey, kiddo!”
“Hiya!” Teo greeted, unloosing a stream of half-intelligible words and sounds.
“You don’t say!” John retorted, adding a “Wow!” Then through nearly closed lips he asked Stiles, “What’d he say?”
“Who knows,” Stiles answered. “But you responded, so, good enough.”
While Teo was distracted picking at a button on the Sheriff’s collar, the two men stood in the living room. John appeared to be taking in the aftermath of mayhem all around him.
“He’s been at peak energy,” Stiles said, by way of explanation.
“I can see that.—Did he move the furniture?”
“No.—Thank god he can’t move furniture—yet.” Stiles semi-rejoiced. “Derek made a maze—or an obstacle course. Or an obstacle course maze.”
John had gently taken hold of Teo’s hand, to prevent needing a button sewn back on.
“Where is Derek?”
“Upstairs meeting a deadline. Which was less important than maze-building till an hour ago.”
“I’m nearly finished and I’ll be down soon!” Derek shouted from his office upstairs. “Hello, John.”
“Hello, Derek,” the Sheriff called back.
“Dahddy! Dahddy!” Teo called too.
“Hello, Teo,” Derek answered, more quietly because ‘wolves didn’t need to shout to hear each other.
Teo bounced in his grandfather’s arms. “Bibah, dow’ now!” He reached for the floor and John let him down
Stiles intervened. “Tay, Daddy’s busy. Big Poppa’s here to play with you now.”
Teo looked up at his papa, silent a few seconds, as if considering his options.
“’Kay,” he decided. Then he grabbed Big Poppa’s hand, leading him to the kitchen.
John surveyed the floor strewn with playthings, blocks of various dimensions, cushions from the couch in a pile with a blanket, upside down against a baseboard a dolly of Raggedy Ann ancestry, a big box with a blow-up ball in it. Before he’d noted everything he heard Stiles’s weary sigh.
“Everything’s such fun. For about a minute and a half.”
John did not bother to hide his smirk.
“What, old man.” It wasn’t a question.
“Oh, nothing, son.” John grinned, quite self-satisfied. “Just something about karma—and es una perra.”
“So funny—you’re not.”
In the kitchen Teo continued leading the Sheriff towards the cabinets under the sinks.
“Hey, mister,” Stiles chided. “Where d’you think you’re goin’?”
“I got ‘im,” John said, diverting Stiles with, “He’s walking really well.”
Stiles huffed, wanting to sound sarcastic, but not really. “Yeah. Independent mobility really agrees with him.” He flopped into a chair at the table.
Teo reached a cabinet and smacked its door a few times, then looked up at his grandfather. “No,” he pronounced solemnly, shaking his head. He repeated the same action at the next cabinet, including the “No.”
“That’s right,” John agreed. “You can’t go in there. Not till you’re a big boy and can cook dinner for your daddies and me.”
“Everything’s child-proofed in this house now.” Stiles bemoaned. “I can’t even open some doors.”
“Son, that’s good.—The child-proofing, I mean.” John paused, then added, “Werewolf child-proof, yes?”
“Of course. Werewolf daddy was in charge.”
While Teo would’ve been happy to give his Big Poppa the complete tour of every cabinet he couldn’t open Stiles had a better idea.
“Tay?” he called. “Why don’t you show Big Poppa your cabinet?”
He left his seat to retrieve a finished wooden container with covered corners, a handle on top and a door that secured with a large hook-and-eye latch. He set it down near his chair.
Teo got one look at it, let go John’s hand and ran for the thing.
“Yace!” he squealed.
“You got him a cabinet?” John asked.
“Derek built him a cabinet, his own cabinet. We were going to empty one in the kitchen for him, but then decided keep him outta there altogether.—He loves his cabinet—don’t ya, Tay?”
Teo, bent at a right angle only toddlers and gymnasts can manage, excitedly pawed at the latch, Stiles watching to make sure he remembered how it worked, which the boy did. The door opened easily and Teo began pulling out the contents: plastic mixing bowls and serving spoons, a foil pan, a little aluminum pot, a plastic colander.
The Sheriff looked on, amazed. Stiles noticed and explained: “It’s safe stuff, Dad. It had to be real. You can’t fool Teodor Stilinski-Hale.—Who knew taking things out of cabinets and putting them back in would be endlessly entertaining.—Well, not endlessly.”
The last word had hardly left Stiles’s mouth when Teo alerted, looked up, dropped his spoons and bolted toward the kitchen doorway.
“Hey, hey! Hey!” Stiles beckoned but to no effect. He knew Derek was coming down the steps.
“Well,” he sighed to his father, “I was hoping to keep the kitchen suitable for human occupation…”
“There’s time,” the Sheriff assured. “Melissa texted me. They were still at the surrogate mom’s place but planning to leave soon.”
In the other room Teo reached the foot of the stairs but there was a thing in his way, which he shook with both hands. It remained in his way.
“Hey, pup,” his daddy said to him as he was raised high and held in one arm. Scent marking distracted him well enough that Derek could step-hop over the gate without giving Teo any ideas about how to get over it.
Walking through what was now a playroom Derek said aloud, “We have to clean up in here.” When he got to the kitchen he repeated, “In here too!”
The Sheriff had taken a seat, with a mug of coffee. Stiles had one and a third mug steamed at an empty chair. Teo pointed to it and declared, “Wan’ sum dat.”
“Put your things back in your cabinet and Daddy will get you some smoothie.”
Teo squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head slowly.
“He’s getting sleepy,” Stiles said, looking sleepy himself. When Derek put his pup on the floor Stiles prompted the boy. “Show Big Poppa how your bowls fit together. Remember how?” He was close enough to the clutter of utensils to point out the biggest bowl, a red one.
Teo just stood there with a sullen expression.
“Put the orange bowl inside the red one.”
Teo was not too stubborn usually, but he was now officially up past his bedtime and nothing was fun. But after Stiles pointed out which was the orange bowl Teo picked it up and dropped it into place in the red one. The action was good enough for Stiles, who left his seat and hastily put everything else away.
Derek was back at the table with a sippy cup. He sat again, Teo in his lap, and handed the slightly perked up little boy his cup.
“Whatcha drinkin’ there, kiddo?” The Sheriff asked, though Teo kept sipping and gave no sign he was going to reply.
“Scott said it would be nice if even Teo were here for their announcement—who knows why—and they’re late. Teo’s crashing,” Stiles groused.
Derek answered his father-in-law. “It’s banana, vanilla yogurt and some milk, so he can sip it through his cup. Lately it’s his favorite.” After a few gulps of his coffee he looked at Stiles. “I’m going to clean up in there.”
“No need. Everyone can sit in here.”
“It’ll only take me a minute.” He handed off Teo to Stiles and left the kitchen.
Teo whined at his daddy’s disappearance again.
“That’s it. I’m puttin’ this baby boy to bed.” He stood and so did the Sheriff.
Teo relinquished his cup with no complaint. Stiles carried him into the next room but had to stop when he saw how Derek had nearly everything back in order.
“I swear, you use secret super-speed when I’m not looking. Admit it,” he demanded.
Derek came close, smiling tenderly.
“I don’t have super speed.” He laid a kiss on Stiles’s nose and Teo’s forehead, which roused the boy so that he saw the cloth doll his daddy held, which he reached for, hugging it to his neck. Then he put his head back upon Stiles’s shoulder.
“OK, he’s got his baby. That’s it. We are outta here,” Stiles whispered.
And the doorbell rang.
“Damn,” Stiles quietly groaned as Derek let in Melissa, Isaac and Scott. The Sheriff joined the crowd and there were hugs and kisses—and apologies.
“We’re sorry,” Scott said. “We lost track of time talking to Anya and Patrick. We know Little Dude needs to get to bed—”
“He’s already asleep,” Stiles informed.
“We’ll be quick.”
“You may as well have a seat now.”
Derek took back their pliant, sleeping child and sat beside Stiles on the couch. When everyone else had sat, and declined coffee too, Scott told Isaac he should make the announcement.
Isaac nodded, appeared to gather himself together.”OK, everyone knows what’s going on, right?”
Stiles was the only one to reply audibly, with an exaggerated, “Yyyeeesss.”
“So, our surrogate mother, Anya, had an ultrasound—just a routine procedure. She’s OK.” Isaac paused, maybe for suspenseful effect, Stiles wasn’t sure—though he was definitely feeling impatient.
“The baby’s OK, too. Perfectly healthy.” Isaac paused again, this time with a pointed look at Scott, perched at his side on the chair’s arm.
“I can tell you’re about to explode. Do you want to tell the rest?”
“Yes, please, thank you,” Scott nearly crowed. Beaming his usual smile he picked up the narrative. “Everything was lined up just right today and the technician was able to see the baby’s—”
Scott stuck out his pinky finger, bobbing it up and down.
“The baby’s finger?” Stiles supplied, meriting a “Stiles…” from Derek and an abrupt laugh from Melissa, who’d been on the brink of bursting, in her case with happiness, since arriving.
“Penis,” Isaac clarified, looking at Scott once more, this time with one of those why-did-I-marry-you looks. “You had your chance. Now I’m going to finish.”
Isaac resumed speaking. Stiles had thrown his head back at the news of the baby’s gender and all he could think about were the names for boys on Isaac’s list.
“We’re having a boy and after many long discussions because Scott didn’t like any of the names I picked,” Isaac continued just the littlest bit peevishly, “we’ve agreed to name our son—”
Stiles held his breath.
“—Maddox. Maddox Lahey-McCall.”
“I love it!” Stiles trumpeted before cringing at the volume of what he’d just exclaimed. But he really meant what he’d said, and Teo, snug in his dad’s arms, remained asleep with his own little baby clutched in his.
Late February
Scott’s and Isaac’s house was fronted with well-trimmed hedges and a glossy bay laurel tree on the lawn, still green in the north California winter. They paid landscapers for its upkeep; Derek preferred maintaining his and Stiles’s property himself.
Stiles was always proud there were no discernible differences in quality of appearance—except for his and Derek’s looking better.
On that day, attached to the porch banisters was a cluster of mylar balloons, and on the door a little banner, all proclaiming to the quiet neighborhood, “It’s a boy!”
The shiny, silvery balloons jostling in the air fixated Teo’s attention as he got closer to them, then he began to look all around, excited or maybe even agitated, Stiles couldn’t tell.
“He hears the baby’s heartbeat,” Derek let Stiles know when he saw how Teo straightened up in Stiles’s arms and his eyes grew wide, even before Scott opened the door.
Inside sat Isaac on the couch. There were blankets and pillows stacked to one side of him and an array of supplies for an infant here and there in the room. Isaac’s shirt was unbuttoned and hung open. Against his bare chest he held the newborn so that its head, which he cradled, lay over his heart.
“Meet Maddox,” Scott announced quietly yet still a little triumphantly. He looked kind of dazed, tired too.
Since Stiles, as always, had photo duty Derek had taken Teo then sat down in the clear space beside Isaac, so that Teo could see the baby’s face, though its eyes were closed.
Teo’s were riveted on the tiny thing until Scott, much too hyper to keep still, asked, “What do you think, Teo?”
Teo glanced up at his uncle for a split second, hearing his name, but looked right back at the baby. He’d seen babies before, but never one like this one.
“That’s your cousin, Tay,” Stiles said softly, phone out, recording.
“Mine?” Teo asked uncertainly, and at the sound of the question Stiles and Derek shot meaningful looks at each other.
“He’s Uncle Isaac’s and Uncle Scott’s baby, like you’re Papa’s and Daddy’s baby,” Derek explained. “But he’s your cousin and he’s your pack.”
Stiles added, “And when he grows up a little more he’ll be your friend.”
Teo was starting to understand what the words “pack” and even “friend” meant but the sound of “your” had much more significance to him.
“Mine,” Teo stated, with finality.
“Oh boy,” Stiles giggled, deciding to change the subject. “His name is Maddox. Can you say ‘Maddox’?”
“Madts,” was Teo’s rendition of the name.
The wolf in Scott made him ask, “You want to touch him, Teo?”
Stiles had been focused on his son and not noticed Isaac already watching Teo. Only then did he see the almost dopey look of elation on the new daddy’s face as, to Stiles’s surprise, Isaac oh so gently held up the infant’s arm so that Teo, with Derek’s guidance, could reach out his own.
The baby only flinched a bit at being moved, opening its eyes enough to reveal dark blue irises.
When Teo’s pointer finger delicately pressed into Maddox’s hand, the baby reflexively gripped it.
Teo’s gasp, open-mouthed in surprise, drew smiles and soft laughs from all the on-looking adults. He turned to his daddy, whose wide grin he mirrored, shrugging up his shoulders.
“Bebe ho’ me,” he declared.
“Yes,” Derek agreed, “The baby’s holding you.”
“Bebe ho’ me,” Teo repeated, satisfied.
“This isn’t really gonna help with the ‘mine’ thing, you realize,” Stiles addressed everyone.
“Aw, maybe he’s just feeling the pack bond already,” was Scott’s idea. “Right, Derek?”
Pack-bond was an article of faith to Derek. He’d never not felt it, as far back as he could remember.
Teo smelled sweet, as he often did, but there were sharper notes of something new, a new and different excitation.
While Isaac’s and Scott’s scents on their baby were strong, they were as of yet only over-laying the scent of the birth mother Derek could still detect.
Pack-bond went deeper than scent.
“Probably,” was Derek’s non-committal answer.
As if on cue Teo leaned forward more, signaling his intention when he tipped back his head, a signal Derek understood.
“Teo, wait.” He gently restrained the boy with a hand on his chest and announced, “He wants to scent him.”
“Babe, let him,” Scott spoke up suddenly, coming forward to take Maddox from Isaac’s hold—which Stiles was secretly very glad to see since he’d bet a mortgage payment Isaac was going to be a possessive parent and his immediate impression was that Scott was going to enable it. “Maddox needs to know everyone’s scent too.”
What Scott did first was lovingly kiss his tiny son’s face, inhale deeply, then crouch in front of Teo and bring the baby close to him.
His mouth at Teo’s ear, “Be very, very careful, pup.—Just smell him,” Derek murmured.
Scott helped, closing the distance between to two little ones so that Teo had only to lean a little. His nose touched Maddox’s cheek; he sniffed, then applied a kiss, an action he was still refining into more than just bumping his mouth against a person.
Stiles had shifted around for an unobstructed view, saw the baby’s eyes open again, blinking. He’d gotten a photo of the kiss, something to make all the grandparents happy and/or tearful for years.
After the kiss Teo turned in Derek’s lap and wrapped his arms around his daddy’s neck, holding on. Derek hugged him close.
“What’s happening?” Stiles wanted to know.
“He’s… excited.”
Derek stroked Teo’s back soothingly. “You did fine, pup.—You like Maddox?”
Teo nodded against Derek’s neck then twisted back around and held out both his arms.
“Ho’d bebe now.”
“Not now, baby boy,” Stiles gently vetoed. “Maddox is too tiny.”
“You both have to grow up some,” Derek assured quietly, his face still close to Teo’s.
Whether or not Teo grasped the meaning of any of that became moot when Scott said, “My mom’s here.”
He suddenly handed off the newborn to Stiles, who nearly gaped in shock, while Scott opened the front door and hurried outside.
Of course Stiles had held his own newborn Teodor and was no fool when it came to the proper way to support a tiny head. He’d just been caught off guard. Standing there with his hands full of a few days old infant felt like handling a miniature sculpture of spun glass.
Isaac sensed Stiles’s unease, already on his feet to retrieve the little bundle—though not before Stiles had the chance to look the baby in the face and say, “Hello there, Maddox. I’m your Uncle Stiles,” then “See ya later!” as Isaac took him back.
Bustling in first was Melissa, Scott right behind. They carried three large bags, more groceries and other provisions. Melissa hurried to the kitchen, leaving her bag there, then she bee-lined to Isaac—or to her grandchild, more accurately.
Not even Isaac’s possessive wolf could refuse the brand new grandmother, who still asked, “May I?” before receiving the baby.
Coos and gentle kisses ensued as Melissa swayed and rocked Maddox in her arms.
But the result was the opposite of what was intended. After a few preliminary cranks squalling began, which Derek and Stiles hadn’t heard in over a year and Teo had never heard.
From his daddy’s lap Teo had watched everything with minimal interest except for where Madts was. When the crying started though, his body tensed and he covered his ears. The scent of his alarm struck Derek’s nose instantly.
Stiles scooted around the knot of the other adults in the room’s midst, to sit beside his husband and distressed child, as Scott, Isaac and Melissa all went to the kitchen, Scott speculating, “Maybe he already realizes Grandma means food!”
From the kitchen Derek could discern hurried movement, the refrigerator’s door opening and closing, various clinking and clanging, all under the near rhythmical wails of the baby.
The Stilinski-Hales stayed put. Teo kept his hands over his ears while both his dads petted and tried to settle him.
As long as the baby cried, Stiles knew, Teo would not uncover his ears, so he leaned in close to explain, “Baby Maddox is probably just hungry, Tay. He’s not sad.”
Teo turned his head to see his papa better, so Stiles knew he was being heard. Also he could see the imminent tears.
“Tiny babies can’t talk, so they can’t say ‘I’m hungry, I’d like my lunch now.’” Stiles had switched into one of his story-telling voices, which got him the barest hint of a smile.
“They can only cry if they want something. Maddox is OK, Tay. He’ll stop crying soon,” Stiles hoped.
Teo lowered his hands at a pause in the wailing but clapped them right back into place when it resumed, this time more urgent. His budding smile vanished.
The cries abruptly ceased after a pitiable little whimper. Melissa returned to the living room, Maddox in her arms, a moment later.
Stiles felt relieved he’d gotten it right. “See Tay? He’s drinking his bottle. That’s what he wanted.”
Derek stood so Teo could see for himself. Teo didn’t drink from a bottle anymore, but he remembered it and the sight seemed to convince him that everything was OK again.
“Maddox is happy now. He only cried because he was hungry.” Derek spoke softly.
“Madts ‘appy now,” Teo echoed.
When Scott and Isaac entered they looked like they’d had a moment in the kitchen. Isaac’s arm was around Scott’s waist, Scott’s head tipped against Isaac, though their expressions were those of very weary, stressed out daddies.
“Why don’t you boys take a nap?” Melissa suggested.
Scott protested, in a hushed voice, “Mom, you worked since this morning! What about y—”
“Go take a nap!—In case you’re awake all night again,” Melissa ordered, quietly and with no obvious signs of fatigue.
After exchanging looks with his husband, “Thanks, Melissa,” Isaac said. It still took a few more minutes before he succeeded in getting Scott to vanish away to their bedroom with him.
Melissa, appearing content beyond words, sat in the rocking chair that Stiles felt sure was a new addition to the living room. She fed her grandchild his bottle with an expertise Stiles could only assume came from years as a nurse, not just from her experience of having a child of her own more than two decades past.
Teo, seeing his papa sat closer to the baby, reached for him. Only his proximity managed to divert Melissa’s eyes from the babe in her arms.
“So what does Teo think of Maddox?” she asked.
Stiles retorted, “I’d say it’s definitely the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” which made Melissa smile.
“We should get going,” Derek prodded, aware there could be a crowd of visitors or nobody present at all; as far as Melissa was concerned the only other person in the room was the tiny one she cradled.
Stiles already anticipated some reluctance to depart from the less tiny person currently situated in his lap. Teo’s attention was fastened onto Maddox no less intently than Melissa’s.
“Teo,” Stiles ventured, “say bye-bye to baby Maddox and Auntie Melissa. We have to go home now.”
“No,” Teo replied, as if that was that, shaking his head.
Derek joined in, leaning close, keeping his voice low. “Yes, pup. Maddox is going to drink his bottle and then he has to take a nap, so we have to go.”
“Doan wan’ to,” Teo protested. But Stiles was on his feet.
“You’ll see Maddox again soon,” he assured his son in the face of an incoming major pout. “He’s here to stay. He’ll always be here with Uncle Scott and Uncle Isaac now.—Blow him a kiss bye-bye.”
Teo still required assistance in blowing kisses but after the first one he continued doing it, by himself, which gave Stiles and Derek a chance for their goodbyes and repeated offers to help however they could.
“Bye, Madts!” were Teo’s parting words as the door closed.
(“Doesn’t it sound like he’s saying ‘Mets’?”
“He’s not saying ‘Mets.’”)
Stiles, staying in the back seat, chose the ride home to ask Teo the big question.
“So, you liked Maddox, Tay?”
Teo nodded, with deliberate, exaggerated nods.
“O—K. That’s a yes.—So, would you like to have a baby sister or brother too?”
That was the big question.
To Teo some of those words sounded like something would be his, and that sounded good, so he nodded again. Derek could see it in the rear view mirror.
“He probably thinks you mean Maddox,” he said, then he raised his voice a little. “Teo, remember, Maddox is your uncles’ baby. If Papa and Daddy have a new baby, it won’t be Maddox. Do you want a baby brother if it’s not Maddox?”
“You really think at eighteen months he’s gonna grasp the fine point of a conditional clause?”
“I think the only baby on his mind right now is Maddox.”
His papa and daddy were talking loud and Teo didn’t like that, though they didn’t smell bad, so that was OK. He decided to look out the window to see the houses and the trees going by. He kept hearing baby and it made him think of baby Maddox again, drinking his bottle and crying because he was hungry and not sad. Teo was hungry too now and happy he didn’t have to cry to ask for his lunch.
“Eat yunch now,” he said as soon as his papa stopped talking.
Suprized, “You’re hungry? You want lunch?” he asked.
“Yace.”
Stiles giggled. “Well, we’ve identified your current priority, haven’t we.—Daddy? You hungry too? Want to go to IHOP?”
“Yace,” Derek answered.
The things Papa called pancakes tasted good and Teo didn’t think about anything else—until after that when he was back home and took his nap, when he got to hold baby Maddox, all by himself, and hold the bottle for Maddox to drink so he didn’t cry any more. But then Daddy woke up Teo and baby Maddox wasn’t there and when he asked Daddy where did Maddox go Daddy said he’d dreamed that.
Teo really wanted to dream that again.