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Derek blinks his eyes open lazily, the darkness of the room lets him know there is absolutely no reason for him to be awake right now. A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table confirms that it's only about four in the morning and dammit he has to get up in two hours if he wants to fit in a run before he gets ready for work. He rolls onto his side and settles around the warm body next to him, his movements doing nothing to disturb his bedmate. A content sigh escapes as he buries his face into his partner's neck and inhales deeply, taking in the scent of home and belonging as he drifts back to sleep.
For a moment everything is peaceful, then a noise from downstairs sends a jolt through him and his eyes snap open again.
To a human the sound would have probably gone unnoticed but his preternatural hearing picked it up perfectly. Rage settles into his stomach.
"Stiles. Stiles!" he whispers, nudging the body next to him.
Once Stiles is asleep he's practically dead to the world. This trait hadn't been a problem until a few years ago, since Derek would be awake at the slightest movement or sound. If whatever is in their house had stepped a foot over the property line, back when he was constantly on alert for hunters and other supernatural creatures, Derek would have known immediately.
Nowadays, where his prime concerns are mortgage payments and filing taxes, and the threats from the supernatural are few and far between, his senses have become somewhat relaxed.
"Stiles." He shakes his shoulder more forcefully.
Stiles lets out an indignant whine and burrows his face into the pillow. "Noooo. Sleep," he murmurs quietly.
"You need to wake up."
Stiles huffs but he's wearing a sleep filled smile on his face when he finally turns to look at Derek. "Okay fine. You should top though, cause I have like zero energy."
"No, Idiot," he says. "There's someone in the house."
"What? Are you serious? Shit!" Stiles is out of bed in an instant, scrambling for his plaid pajama pants that are sitting on top of the pile of fresh clothes on the dresser. He reaches into Derek's dresser drawer and throws him a pair of sweats. "Clothe yourself we don't need you giving the burglar a show," he whispers.
Despite the situation, Derek cant help but smirk and shake his head fondly as he pulls on the pants.
When he turns back around he sees Stiles grabbing his gun out of his bedside drawer. He hears the click of the safety being switched off as Derek leads them out of the bedroom.
They quietly make their way down the hall and at this point Derek can definitely hear the low murmur of several voices downstairs. He shoots Stiles a look.
Stiles sighs in frustration behind him, "Man, who the fuck breaks into a deputy's house?"
Derek can feel his eyes go red and his claws slip out. "Either someone who doesn't know or doesn't care."
"Oh please, like everyone in town doesn't know where deputy Stilinski and his built like brick house hubby live."
"Shh."
They make their way silently down the staircase, both carefully skipping the creaky step that Derek forgot to fix last week. Stiles shoots him a look as he steps over it and Derek glares because now is not the time to give him shit about the fucking stairs.
Once they hit the bottom of the staircase even Stiles can identify that the noise is definitely coming from the living room. They turn the corner, making their way down the entry hall and back up against the wall outside the living room.
He meets Stiles eyes and he can hear his husband's heartbeat racing but after so many years of being thrust into dangerous situations together Derek knows it's only the adrenaline. At this point in their relationship Derek can practically tell what Stiles is feeling or thinking with just a single look. After all the years of standing beside him, of supporting each other in the aftermath of a fight or one of the nightmares brought on by the memories of the people they've lost, of running his hands along every inch of Stiles, Derek knows Stiles body better than his own. He can see the anger over the fact that someone broke into their home in the tense line of his jaw, knows that he's steeling himself for a fight through the stiffness in his shoulders and the iron grip he has on his gun, and past the determination in his eyes he can see the relief that Derek also feels because the bedroom down the upstairs hall is empty tonight.
Moments like these where Derek is confronted with just how intimately familiar and in sync he is with Stiles always leaves him feeling somewhat breathless. There was a time in his life when he never thought he would have someone he could trust, someone who really loved him, a family. Derek will tear apart anyone who tries to take this from him.
Stiles holds up three fingers and slowly lowers them each before nodding as the final one falls. They both turn the corner rapidly, Derek crouching in front of Stiles with his claws out. Easily able to spring up and shield his husband, while Stiles has his gun aimed and ready. The intruder shouts in alarm.
"Oh son of bitch, Scott!" Stiles yells. Derek hears him click the safety back on his gun before he flips the lights.
"You scared me!" Scott accuses. Derek rolls his eyes and his claw slip back into human fingernails as he takes in the mess that is his living room.
His husband's ridiculous best friend has gathered the large blanket off the back of the couch and cocooned it around him. He realizes that the voices he'd been hearing had been coming from whatever show Scott was watching on their television.
"Dammit Scott, what the hell are you doing?"
Scott looks down at tupperware of lasagna Derek had made for dinner last night that is sitting in his lap, "...eating?"
Derek grabs one of the awful decorative vases Lydia had forced on them off a shelf and whips it at Scott's head.
"Ah, dude!" he manages to catch it before it hits him (and thank god he does because as satisfying as it would be, it's not worth Lydia's rage the next time she stops by).
Stiles moves into the room, setting his firearm on the coffee table and crawling onto the couch. Derek can tell his adrenaline is starting to wear off.
Scott looks from the weapon to his friend. "Why'd you grab your gun?"
"We thought you were a burglar or something dumbass."
He turns to Derek with a raised brow, "You couldn't smell me?"
"It's four in the morning and you're wrapped in one of our blankets shut up." He seats himself on the end of the couch and drapes his legs across Stiles, who hums appreciatively and rubs Derek's thigh.
Stiles jabs Scott's shoulder with his foot. "Hey jerkface why did you break into our house? I'm guessing it wasn't just to use our Netflix to rewatch episodes of Breaking Bad."
Scott turns around to face them from his spot on the floor and says, "Technically I didn't break in. I used my key."
"Scott."
His expression suddenly becomes sheepish. "I uh, actually came to see Claudia."
"Dude, she's at my Dad's for the weekend. You know that," Stiles replies. About once a month Stiles' father would take Claudia for a weekend to give them a much needed break. As much as both men love their little girl, the chance to sleep and spend some quality time together, just the two of them, is greatly appreciated.
"Yeah I remember." Scott says quietly as he runs a hand through his hair. "Shit. I'm sorry guys."
Derek exchanges a look with Stiles. He can practically feel the force of Scott's nerves and see the subtle hint of stress in his movements. He's about to say something when Stiles beats him to it. "What's going on, buddy?"
Scott visibly hesitates before his mouth draws into an ecstatic smile, "Allison's pregnant."
"WHAT?!" And just like that, Stiles throws off Derek's legs and launches himself at Scott, causing the Tupperware of food in Scott's hands to go flying onto the hardwood floor.
"Stiles!" Derek shouts.
But he ignores him, too busy trying to maneuver Scott into some kind of headlock/hug combination. Derek rolls his eyes. He's married to a twelve year old he swears.
"Congrats Scotty!"
"Ouch! Stiles ow! Get off!" Scott manages to free himself from the octopus-like grip his friend has on him with a shove that sends Stiles sprawling across the floor but doesn't even put a damper on his idiotic grin.
Derek hauls Stiles back up on the couch. He looks to Scott and offers him a genuine smile, "Congratulations."
He knows few people are aware of the struggle Scott and Allison have been having with conceiving. Derek's pretty sure they have only told their parents, Lydia, and Stiles (and by extension Derek, since whatever Stiles knows eventually gets shared with him and vice versa). He knows what this means to them and how long they have been waiting for this.
Derek interrupts Stiles speech about going baby shopping next weekend and all the things he and Scott are gonna buy. "That still doesn't explain why you're in our house, looking for our daughter at four in the morning on a Monday."
Stiles halts mid rant. "Oh yeah, dude what the heck?"
Scott's ears are turning a light pink and he's playing with the blanket in his hands, studying the photos on the wall, looking anywhere but the two of them. It's several minutes before he speaks, "It's just...," he trails off with a frustrated sigh and his eyes meet Derek's. "You remember when you guys found out you were gonna have Claudia? And you started freaking out?"
Derek glares. He hadn't been that bad. Scott doesn't wait for an answer though and suddenly he's talking a mile a minute, "I couldn't sleep. I was just laying in bed thinking about how what this means. It changes everything. What if one of us loses our jobs what are we gonna do? What if Allison and I start fighting all the time? Or never have any time together? What if something goes wrong? Or what if something happens to me? What if—"
"Scott breathe." Derek says, gripping Scott's shoulder.
Scott halts and draws in several heavy breaths before he continues. "I'm gonna be a father. What I teach this kid is going to shape who they become, the kind of person they are." Derek can hear Scott's heartbeat starting to pick up again. "What if I screw this up? What—"
"Scott are you kidding?" Stiles chimes in before Scott can overwhelm himself again in the what if's. "You love kids! Just look at you and Claudia. She adores you. You're great with kids."
Scott smiles. "That's exactly what I thought when I started freaking out and I don't know...I panicked. I just had to come over and see her. Then I got here and realized I was being ridiculous but I still wasn't tired and I didn't feel like going home and I found lasagna in the fridge so," he shrugs.
There's something else though. Something he's not saying and Derek knows Stiles can sense it too when a moment later he asks, "And?"
Scott looks torn for a moment before meeting Stiles' eyes, "It's just you know my dad and I have never had the best relationship and then he left and Stiles what if I-"
"Hey no. No." Stiles removes himself from the couch again to crouch by Scott and lays a hand on his arm. "You're never gonna be like him, okay? So don't even worry about that. Scott we've been friends forever, so I know what I'm saying when I tell you that the only thing you and your dad have in common is your uneven jawline. You're gonna be the best dad ever. I know it. That kid is gonna love you." Scott smiles and nods. Derek can hear his heartbeat finally beginning to steady and see's the tension disappearing from his shoulders.
"And if you ever even tried to leave, Derek and I would drag your ass back." Stiles expression turns grim, "Not to mention what Allison would do to you."
All three of them share a wince.
Scott looks up at him then and Derek nods. If Scott were to ever try and take off the only thing that would stop Derek from immediately going after him is the knowledge that he'd be sleeping on the couch for a week if he left without Stiles. He's not aware of every detail of what happened with Scott's father. He'd only met agent McCall briefly in the aftermath of the alpha pack and then again at Scott and Allison's wedding but it hadn't taken long for him to figure out the man was kind of an ass.
"Thanks guys," Scott says.
"No problem, buddy. So which episode are we on?" Stiles turns to face the television and slings an arm around Scott's shoulders.
Ten minutes into the show Derek can feel himself fading. He taps Stiles on the shoulder, "I'm gonna head up." His husband pulls Derek into a quick kiss. As the break apart Derek notices the heavy exhaustion in his eyes, but he knows Stiles won't leave Scott's side no matter how tired he is. Not right now. On the rare occasions Scott's father does comes up, the two men sort of cling to each other for a few hours. Stiles is able to provide Scott with the unique comfort that can only be offered by someone who witnessed and understands what he went through.
He places another kiss on Stiles forehead before briefly gripping Scott's shoulder. "Night, Scott."
"Night, Derek."
He grabs Stiles' gun off the coffee table and, when he reaches the master bedroom, places it back in it's drawer. Derek settles under the sheets and almost immediately starts to drift off. He glances once more at the clock and see's that it's almost a quarter to six and quickly decides he's going to skip his run.
When Derek wakes up again it's eight o' clock and he's alone in bed but if he concentrates he can hear the steady breathing of Stiles and Scott down in the living room. He makes an executive decision and calls in sick to work and then calls the station for Stiles. He jumps in the shower, throws on some jeans and a shirt, and then heads downstairs. On his way out the door, he shoots Allison a text letting her know where Scott is and congratulating her on her pregnancy.
By the time he's parking his car in John Stilinski's driveway he has a reply:
Thanks! He left a note this time. Tell him I called the clinic and told them he wouldn't be in today.
He knocks on the door and John answers with a puzzled expression on his face. "Derek you're early. By about" he check the watch on his wrist, "seven hours."
They step into the house and John leads the way into the kitchen. "Yeah, I decided to skip work. It was a late night."
John turns and gives him a grimace, "That's a bit more than I need to know, son."
The heat he feels in his cheeks relents the second Claudia sees him and let's out an excited, "Pa!" Effectively capturing all his attention.
Derek feels his face light up as he hoists her out of the high chair and pulls her to his chest. "Hey Cee, you ready to go home?" The only answer he gets is Claudia wrapping her tiny arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. He turns to John, "How was she?"
His expression was nothing short of completely enamored as he looks at Claudia. "Perfect, as always." And Derek knows that's not true since she's started to become a particular picky eater over the past two months. Though if anyone could get her to do something it would be John, so Derek doesn't argue.
Derek shares a quick cup of coffee with his father in-law. Half an hour later, John hands him her stuff then says goodbye with a kiss for Claudia and Derek's promise that they're still coming over for dinner on Friday.
When they get back to the house Derek sets Claudia's things down by the door and takes her into the living room, pleased to find that the lasagna had been cleaned off the floor. Stiles and Scott are both laying on opposites ends of the couch with several blankets thrown oddly between them.
He has to shush Claudia who immediately starts babbling at the sight of Stiles and places her in the little crevice of space between Stiles and the back of the couch. She burrows up against his husband's chest mumbling, "Dada."
Derek crouches down on the floor and nuzzles the back of Stiles' neck taking in the scent of him. He let's his stubble tease at the sensitive skin between his shoulder and neck and smiles as Stiles grumbles sleepily.
It isn't long before Claudia starts getting impatient and before Derek can stop her she smacks the side of Stiles face with a loud and demanding, "Da!"
"Claudia Stilinski-Hale, what have we said about hitting." Derek chastises, grabbing her from her spot on the couch.
The toddler looks contrite for all of one minute before Stiles turns over and mumbles, "She can't help being her father's daughter." He grins cheekily at Derek's glare before setting his eyes on Claudia. "Hey baby girl."
She starts squirming again and Derek passes her over to Stiles who lays her out across his chest. One hand along her back while the other move slowly through the dark hair on her head. Derek loves seeing them like this. He loves being able to touch and hold and stare at what he never thought he'd have again.
"Work?" Stiles asks, breaking Derek out of his thoughts.
"We're all very very ill."
"Hmm, awesome," Stiles says with a yawn.
"How's Scott doing?"
Stiles looks across the couch at his best friend who's still sleeping soundly. "Pretty sure he's gonna be fine. Just a freak out over his impending fatherhood," he smirks at Derek. "Nothing compared to the drama queen you turned into though."
"Shut up." He shoves Stiles lightly.
His husband laughs softly before he turns his attention back to their daughter. He pulls her up and turns her so she's facing Scott, "Claudia, who's that?"
"Scoot!" she exclaims excitedly. Derek chuckles.
"That's right. Go get him!" With that, Stiles places her on top of Scott's legs and she starts crawling her way up.
When she's close enough, Claudia starts patting her little hand against her godfather's face. "Scoot! Scoot!"
"Hey Claudia," Scott says as he wakes up.
"Scoot!" She giggles excitedly.
Derek and Stiles share a smile before Derek gets to his feet. "Pancakes?"
"Mmm you're the best," Stiles responds and Derek's feels a pleasant warmth curl inside him as he makes his way into the kitchen.
He's grabbing the eggs out of the fridge and a bowl from the cupboard when he hears Stiles say, "Okay that's enough. Quit monopolizing my baby. You'll have your own in a few months."
"Yeah nine. You can have her back when mine comes— maybe."