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It was another half an hour before Derek woke up again. In the meantime, the pack had eaten dinner and were all gathered around the living room.

The girls were busy whispering amongst each other, Isaac fiddled with his phone with Boyd standing over his shoulder pointing out various things, Danny and Jackson were each immersed in the various lacrosse magazines that Stiles had (ignoring the problem at hand), and Scott was sitting next to Stiles on the couch both watching his phone, waiting for it to ring with a call from Deaton.

A groan alerted the pack to Derek’s revival and Isaac was first to his side, helping him sit up and silently offering a glass of water to his Alpha.

“What…” Derek croaked out, coughing once before draining the cup of water. Shaking his head and looking slightly better for the drink, he started again, “What happened?”

Stiles bit his lip and turned his head to stare at the wall. Erica saved Stiles from answering by telling Derek, for the second time that day, about Stiles’ pregnancy.

“What.” Derek grounded out, expression blank as he stared at Stiles’ midsection.

“Yeah, so apparently you can knock males up?” Scott said with a nervous giggle, gaze darting between Derek’s steadily darkening expression and Stiles impassive stare at the wall.

“No.” Derek said, climbing to his feet and walking over to the kitchen. The firmness and absoluteness of the world startled the pack and they all exchanged looks as the tension in the air heightened. Derek reappeared with another glass of water that he downed in a gulp and then pointed at Erica.

Erica frowned at him, “Derek, I’m positive—“

Derek glowered at Erica and interrupted her with a firm, “Impossible. Everything you learned in biology isn’t just suddenly bullshit because supernatural creatures exist.”

Scott opened his mouth to defend Erica who was looking taken aback but his phone rang and he reached for that instead. It was Deaton. Stiles turned infinitesimally towards the phone, eyes still glued on the wall but seeming to take notice in the conversation between Scott and the veterinarian.

“So—“ Scott started, breaking off as a tinny voice interrupted him. Every single werewolf in the room strained to hear what was being said.

—unprecedented…never…fascinating…Talia once….I…dismissed…”

“So…it’s…it’s real?” The answer to that question was heard clearly.

Yes.

“Ok…uh, can you come over soon? To help and uh, explain—“

Certainly…twenty minutes…

“Ok then, bye, thanks,” Scott brought his phone down from his ear and stared at it in disbelief. It was one thing to have a werewolf scent the pregnancy…it was another to have it confirmed by Deaton.

A pained growl broke everyone’s stupor and all attention went to Derek who looked furious almost. Stiles gaze raked over Derek’s rigid posture and his own position tensed.

“I—Stiles, I—I need to go home and find my mother’s journals. There’ll probably—“ he interrupted himself abruptly and shouted “Fuck!” and slammed his glass onto the table hard enough that it shattered, the remaining droplets of water leaking onto the table. Stiles flinched.

“Derek—“ Stiles started, voice barely a whisper but stopped when Derek turned towards Stiles, eyes blank.

“I can probably find something to deal with this. I need a few days maybe to go through her journals. There has to be something that can get rid of this. I’m sorry this happened.”

Stiles sucked in a breath of air, looking as if someone—Derek—had slapped him. The pack shrunk back from the tense, hurt atmosphere.

Derek’s jaw clenched and he scowled darkly, nodding at Scott, “Ask Deaton when he comes here if he knows of any ways to get rid of it. I’m going to—“

Stiles made a high pitched sound and then stood up shakily, waving off Allison on his other side who had made a move to steady him. Trembling, he jerked his head at Derek. “Yeah. You—you need to leave, now. Everyone. I’m sorry that this ruined movie night but I need to—I need to call my dad and get this—it—sorted out. So please leave.”

The girls all made noises of protest and Jackson even looked as if he was about to protest but Derek looked at Stiles with a dead look and commanded them to all leave. Allison looked worriedly after Scott who was the only one still sitting and not gathering his stuff and gave him a hug, whispering “Take care of him,” to Scott who nodded and continued to keep his gaze on Stiles, who was trembling still. Lydia laid a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and then left while Erica hugged a non-responsive Stiles, muttering something about Catwoman being there to kick ass which managed to elicit a half-hearted smile from Stiles.

After the pack had left leaving Stiles and Scott alone, after Scott nodded at Stiles to let him know that their cars were beyond listening distance even for a werewolf, only then did Stiles allow himself to cave and collapse onto the couch next to Scott. Scott wrapped his arms around his best friend and let Stiles cry silent, wracking sobs into his shoulder. He sent off a text to the Sheriff to come over immediately and then sat offering silent comfort to Stiles.

--

Once they had gotten to their cars, Lydia refused to sit in Jackson’s car, instead, shoving Isaac and Boyd into the Porsche and demanding that she, Allison, and Erica go in Derek’s Camaro. Baffled and still a bit shaken by the scene in Stiles’ apartment, Jackson acquiesced and drove off with Isaac and Boyd.

Once they had pulled out the driveway and onto the road, Erica couldn’t hold it back and snapped at Derek.

“How could you, Derek? How could you?” Erica sounded more furious and more shaken than the time she came back from a year’s length of being gone. She and Stiles had built up their friendship, Catwoman to his Batman and they were basically sister and brother. The Sheriff had often come home to Erica beating Stiles at Call of Duty or some other game (and the one time with pillows), it had gotten to the point where the Sheriff would fondly say he had three children now, including Erica with Stiles and Scott (the first time Erica had heard, she’d burst out crying).

Derek growled back at Erica and interrupted her rage, “Because he deserves better.”

Erica glared right back at Derek, “Who are you to decide for him? You just made him feel like shit, you know? You basically told him that you didn’t want him in your life, and that essentially, you wanted nothing to do with it as you so charmingly put it.”

Derek could only shrug his shoulders and continue to scowl at the road before saying wearily, “I can barely keep a pack together, how the fuck do you expect me to have a kid?”
“Your pack is doing pretty well,” Allison said tentatively.

“Oh yeah?” Derek lashed out at her, “You’re a hunter dating my head-beta, Isaac is a codependent child, Erica uses her sexuality to get things—I wouldn’t be surprised if she were to become a prostitute,” Erica flinched at his words, “Jackson is a self-entitled ass who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself, Boyd is an anti-social freak who doesn’t have any friends but his girlfriend, Lydia is—“

Lydia, who had been surprisingly silent up til now, sharply interrupted his harsh words. “No.” Derek looked up at the rearview mirror in surprise, finding Lydia’s steely-eyed gaze meeting his eyes.

“No, you don’t get to do this, you’ve already murdered your family—“ Derek choked at her words, nearly slamming on the brakes. “Yeah, yeah that’s what you think, right? You murdered your family because of a stupid tryst with Kate Argent—a cougar bitch that lured in a hormonal teenager,” hissed Lydia viciously. “Whatever you want to think about that, I don’t care. It’s in the past though, it’s happened. You need to pull your shit together before you lose your new family. You’ve got a pack no matter what you may think about them, this is your family, Derek. Most people don’t get second chances, you did, and now you’re going to throw it all away? I’ve been the object of Stiles’ adoration for years, do you remember? I know what Stiles is like when he cares about someone—even after he stopped putting me on a love pedestal, he’s still become a friend, the best damned friend a girl could hope for. Do you know, the first semester when we were at college, he brought me a coffee every morning because he knew that my parents had forgotten me and hadn’t called me once? I found out that the coffees were way out of his price range and that he was already taking on a job at the library so he could afford them—he’s already on scholarship, Derek! That’s the person that’s in love with you, and you just fucking slapped him in the face with your declaration that you didn’t give a shit.” Lydia breathed deeply in an effort to calm herself again—somewhere during her story about Stiles bringing her coffee tears had fallen, leaving dark smudges on her makeup.

Allison reached a hand over to hug Lydia close, and Erica held Lydia’s other hand.

“Derek,” Allison began, soft voice filling the air, “When you were gone this past week, Stiles was at a loss. I mean, we’ve seen you guys pining all throughout high school and college, but when he came back this summer, he was so happy. We were so glad that you guys had finally gotten together—he’d been having such trouble sleeping because of all the nightmares that he’d get from the various attacks we’ve been through. I’ve had to talk him through at least three panic attacks a month, you know? He calls his dad every day so that he’ll know he’s safe. But this week,” Allison smiled at Lydia who had squeezed her hand in acknowledgment of their experiences this week. “This week, he’s been moping about because he finally got some of that happiness and love he’s always wanted. Stiles needs someone to take care of, he’s got this desire to take care of everyone. You think that pack movie nights and dinner started this week? No, they’ve been going on throughout college. He’s got such a big heart and Lydia and I, we teased him about missing you all this week because it was really adorable. Erica was there for one of the conversations,” Erica interrupted to affirm that Stiles was being stupidly mope-y, “and then you came home, the pack could tell that Stiles was so much happier with you here.”

Derek’s jaw had a steady tick now, eyes fixed firmly on the road. Lydia sighed and reached to open the door.

“Erica, Allison, come on,” she said, stepping out of the car, “If Derek’s going to be a dumb little shit about this, I don’t want to have to see it.” Erica glared one last time at Derek and climbed out after Lydia—they’d somehow arrived at Lydia’s house.

Allison gave one last pitying look at Derek and followed the girls in.

Derek flexed his hands on the steering wheel once before stepping on the gas and speeding off even though he didn’t have a destination set—not his loft, no, he didn’t want to be there, Stiles’ scent was all over his loft. A sort of numb chill had settled over his heart.

--

“Hey, Mike,” Sheriff Stilinski called out to his deputy, “I’ve gotta go and see what’s wrong with Stiles, watch over the rest of the rookies, yeah?”

Mike waved a hand to acknowledge the Sheriff before turning back to yell at a rookie for sticking his gun in his back pocket—“YOU WANT YOUR ASS SHOT OFF?”

The Sheriff chuckled and went about removing his gear.

“Sheriff,” an oily voice said near him, the Sheriff had to mentally tell himself not to punch the deputy—Deputy Jake was a shifty, nasty sort but as he didn’t have anything to fire him for, he was stuck. “Your son still with that murderer?”

Sheriff Stilinski turned around and said stiffly, “The charges were dropped, Jake, there is nothing on his record now.”

An eyebrow rose at that, “Yeah, we know, Sheriff, anything for the son’s slutty perversions—“ he choked the last bit as he found himself slammed up against the wall. The shooting range went silent—no one went to interfere, the Sheriff was well loved and Jake was disliked by almost everyone.

“Say one word, Jake,” the Sheriff breathed, “one word and I’ll find some way to stick you in jail for the rest of your miserable existence.”

Jake shot him a greasy grin, “Oh, we taking offense because I insulted your son? Yeah, that’s what he gets for hanging around shit heads like Derek Hale—never liked the Hale family, bunch of weirdoes. Aren’t you afraid that your son’s preference for the, ah, same team came from that?”

The shooting range burst into applause as Sheriff Stilinski punched Jack in the gut before kicking him in the balls as he went down.

“No. Derek Hale is an upstanding citizen of Beacon Hills, unlike you, and you, Ex-Deputy Jake, are officially fired from the Beacon Hills Police Department on account of being a homophobic, bigoted, fuckwart, asshole.”

Brushing his hands off and nodding with a wry grin at his underlings who were still clapping and cheering him on, he walked out and set off towards his cruiser to see what the hell was wrong with his son—something so important that Scott had sent him a text saying “SOS Stiles come now.”

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