TEEN WOLF - MPREG BIG BANG - A Legend of a Lonely Boy - Part Six

[bunnymaccool]

~*~

Derek groaned and shifted in the bed. He just couldn’t get comfortable. The heavy weight of his belly pushed at him no matter the angle he tried. The soft snores of his mate beside him and John down the hall ground at his patience. He just wanted to fucking sleep one night through, but the further along he’d gotten the more impossible that task seemed. There was only a week left until he hit the nine month mark and Deaton felt comfortable enough for the cesarean. For now he felt like a fucking moose with a full grown beta jammed into his gut.

The alpha groaned as he pulled himself to his feet. Lauryl shifted inside of him, kicking repeatedly at his bladder. Through the bond he told her to calm the fuck down, and she responded with the equivalent of a happy ‘no’. Growling low he waddled towards the bathroom to relieve the pressure on his bladder. When he was done, he stepped into the room that had previously been his own.

The walls were a sea-foam green with a purple ceiling and purple patterns placed through out. The crib was ready and waiting in the corner with purple and white check bedding. The twin bed across the room matched it, as did the changing table, repainted dresser and massive toy chest. One wall had a mural of cartoon wolves dancing around in a field, full moon hanging heavy above them. He took a deep breath. Smelled the baby powder and diapers and new clothes that filled the room, and he wanted. He wanted so, so badly.

“Only one more week.”

Derek turned to smile at the Sheriff behind him. The older man had taken the change in his son’s relationship with the alpha pretty well in stride. Had even helped them switch out the queen size bed from the guest room with the twin that had previously been Stiles’. He supposed it helped that the teen was now officially eighteen and legal in the eyes of the state.

“What are you doing up?”

The alpha shrugged and moved toward the hallway.

“Lauryl doesn’t sleep… I don’t sleep.”

John grinned, wide and bright, before clapping a hand on his shoulder. When Derek had finally gotten around to telling the Stilinski’s the name he had chosen for his daughter there had been many tears, several rounds of hugs, and a celebration pie. (Blueberry with mint chocolate chip ice cream. Turns out Derek did have an odd craving.)

“Cheryl was the same with Stiles. Warm milk always helped her. Wanna try it?”

Derek nodded and waddled out after the Sheriff. Who watched him closely as they traveled down the stairs. The larger he had gotten, the more the pack had worried. Especially after Stiles had insisted he inform them all about the risks that Deaton had discovered. He was never alone any more. There were always a minimum of two or three people hovering around him at all times. It wasn’t what he’d wanted, but the battle really wouldn’t be worth it.

When he tried to settle on the barstool, Lauryl kicked again, even more viciously this time. She was antsy and anxious, and he couldn’t figure out why. Nothing he sent through the bond managed to calm her. He grunted and rubbed his belly. Still not as large and rounded as a female’s, but heavy and painful none-the-less. John was warming the milk and talking to him, but Derek was concentrating too fully on trying to get his daughter to settle down. She kicked again and this time he could swear he felt something tear. He stood.

“John-”

A ripping pain suddenly slashed across his insides, and he cried out and toppled to the floor. There was a shattering of glass and then the Sheriff was hovering over him.

“Derek? DEREK!?”

Something was clawing and gnashing at every vital part of him. Memories of Peter punching his claws right through Derek’s gut sprang to mind. He swore he could feel the makeshift womb being shredded inside his belly. Could feel organs being punctured. Blood bubbled up his throat and spilled over his lips. He screamed. There was so much pain.

He begged his daughter to stop through the bond, but she was mindless with fright. The false nature of the womb must have somehow become obvious to her developing senses. She cried out for ‘Mother! Father! Protect Me!’ and Derek could only whine in agony.

His pack. He wanted his pack. He wanted his mate. He wanted Stiles.

Derek threw back his head and howled as loud as he could, crying out danger and pain and help, it pulled at his throat where the thick coppery blood continued to flow. But responding cries began to call out immediately, scattered around the town. The Sheriff was clutching at him and screaming for his son. Derek felt the pounding footsteps of his mate rushing to him and whimpered when Stiles dropped to the floor beside him.

“Fuck! What happened? FUCK!”

Derek whined and reached for his mate, who immediately pulled him into his lap and cradled him close.

“Call Deaton! DAD! Call Deaton!”

The elder Stilinski practically dove across the room for his phone and began to dial. In the far distance Derek could hear tires screeching and feel the pack getting closer. Another wave of pain tore through him and Derek wailed. He gripped his mate in his arms and stared up at Stiles’ face. The teen was openly crying, but telling him to stay calm, that everything was going to be alright. There was a steady whining in the room he knew was coming from him, but he couldn’t stop it. He’d made the joke earlier of feeling like a full grown beta was in his stomach, but it didn’t seem as funny now. Now it seemed completely possible. More pain raked across his belly and he could only gurgle around the blood in his mouth.

Stiles hiccupped through a sob, and shifted until he could card his trembling fingers through Derek’s hair in the most soothing manner he could manage. Derek’s whines kicked up a notch.

“Shh… it’s going to be fine. You’ll see. She just didn’t want to wait anymore. Wanted to meet her momma.”

The Sheriff sprinted to the front door and flung it open just as Isaac came barreling up the drive, completely wolfed out.

“Scott’s getting Deaton and his mom! They’re on their way!”

He skidded to a stop inside the kitchen and whimpered in distress. Derek whined at him and the beta instantly moved forward to place his hands on the alpha’s skin and drain away some of the pain. Isaac paled at the touch and mewled. Derek weakly pushed him back. It wouldn’t do for the beta to take too much. He needed to be strong. The alpha turned his attention back to his mate.

“S-Stiles… she wants out. She wants… I can’t-”

The teen shook his head frantically and skirted his shaking fingers down Derek’s face to cup his jaw.

“Shh-shh-shh… concentrate on healing yourself, don’t talk. Just think about how beautiful she’s going to be. You’ve been waiting to see her for so long. We finally get to find out what she looks like.”

Derek mewled and nodded his head weakly. Tried to demand his body to stay strong. To heal.

Tires squealed to a stop outside and Erica and Boyd rushed through the door. They gathered on the floor behind Isaac, too far to touch, but close enough for support. The werewolves whined and whimpered with each sound of distress that Derek made. John was pacing the floor on the phone and Derek caught his eye.

“Deaton had to get the emergency kit. They’re coming. They’re coming.”

Something sharp sliced up his ribs from the inside and Derek froze. He begged through the connection with his pup for her to stop, but she was scared and practically screaming to get out. The oxygen in his lungs seemed to harden like concrete. Sparks danced across his vision. He stared, wide-eyed at the ceiling and felt tears slipping down his face.

“BREATHE, DEREK! GODDAMMIT, BREATHE!”

A hand smacked his cheek hard and he sucked in air. Then he was coughing it out through the blood filling his mouth.

“Don’t do that to me! Don’t do that to me, you bastard!!”

Derek turned his gaze towards his mate once more. His beautiful, beautiful mate. The teenager he had once considered one of the most obnoxious humans he had ever been cursed to meet. Whom he had badgered and threatened and abused for the first several months of their acquaintance. Whom, despite all that, had helped Derek more times than the alpha could honesty remember. Whom, for the past seven months had shown Derek every kindness, every sweet soft moment of affection that he had never imagined having again. Whom he loved. Truly loved. And had yet to fucking tell him.

Derek raised his hand to trail a finger softly down Stiles’ jaw line, not even noticing the streak of his own blood it left behind. The alpha smiled.

“I love you.”

Stiles sobbed and grasped his hand tightly.

“Don’t you fucking DARE start with any last words shit, Derek Hale, or I swear to fucking GOD I will kill you myself! You’re not going anywhere!”

Behind him, the Sheriff choked on something and threw his phone against the wall. The betas whined and sniffled. Finally, the sound of tires barely hanging onto their treads wailed around the corner. Derek only listened in the periphery as Deaton, Melissa and Scott ran into the house. At some point Lydia and Jackson had appeared as well, clinging to each other and trembling behind the other betas. The pain was starting to fade to a dull ache, and Derek knew that wasn’t a good thing. The vet and nurse were pulling at his clothes and ordering people around, but he couldn’t really be bothered to pay attention. A movement behind his mate caught his eye. Scott was kneeling next to Stiles and grasping his friend’s shoulder tight. Derek pushed the thick, syrupy blood out of his mouth with his tongue.

“Scott.”

The beta instantly snapped his focus to Derek. There were tears gathering in his eyes and the alpha was a little humbled that the beta he’d had the most trouble with actually seemed to care about him. The path they had walked together might have been rocky and full of challenges, but the alpha held a lot of regard and admiration for the boy, and he had begun to feel those emotions returned in kind. Scott would do well as the alpha now. He was more in control and settled with his wolf than he had been before. It would be okay.

“It’ll … It’ll pass to you, Scott. You gotta… take care of the pack. Keep everyone safe. Help … Stiles raise the… pup.”

Scott nodded numbly and Isaac whined high in distress across the room. Stiles was suddenly grabbing Derek’s chin and forcing the alpha to meet his gaze.

“I told you no goodbye shit, Derek! Stop it! Just look at me. Look at me.”

So Derek did. He held that amber gaze steady as sounds slowly trickled in around them. Felt Deaton’s hands grazing across his belly. John gripping his forearm tightly in support. Melissa shuffling around beside him. The metal clink of tools being sorted and set on the floor. His beta’s nervous movements and thundering heartbeats. Stiles’ fingers trailing across his eyebrows in a butterfly soft touch.

“Probably why the carriers didn’t survive. The pups tore their own way out of the fake womb.”
“John! We need more towels! Hurry!”
“No time to be sterile about it, shouldn’t matter with wolves, anyway.”
“Are these enough? What else do you need?”
“Some warm water, please. A large bowl.”
“I need to cut him open. Melissa you’ll have to hold the wound open, his body will try to heal.”
“Oh God.”
“Derek, I need you to keep very still.”

“I love you, too. You know that, right?”

Derek had been losing focus, but those words snapped him back into clarity. Stiles was still holding him close, staring intently down into his eyes. The alpha blinked up at this mate and watched the tears trek down the young man’s cheeks.

“You know that, right? That I’m like… completely gone on you? Even when you’re being a surly, ridiculous sourwolf. Even when you won’t shave for a week and look like a fucking mountain man. Or when you steal curly fries off my plate. Or tell me that Supernatural is a stupid show, because clearly you’re insane and have no taste in quality entertainment. Or when you refuse to stop wearing those stupid … fucking … penguin… pants.”

Stiles lost it by the end and was hiccupping little sobs through the words. There was a painful slice and odd pulling at his belly, but Derek ignored it to smile at his mate. Which only made Stiles cry harder because Derek had tried to raise his arm to trace along the younger man’s face again, but he couldn’t even muster the strength to lift it any more. He settled for sending every once of his love for the teen through their bond.

“I know.”

“Take her! Take her!”
“Cut the cord, John!”
“Careful! She’s a strong little sweetheart, isn’t she?”
“She’s absolutely beautiful.”
“You’re biased, Grandpa.”

His mate nodded and clenched his eyes closed for a second, and that’s when Derek noticed a flicker of darkness across the room. A shadow was moving slowly and silently through the chaos of the kitchen, deep in the recesses where the lights didn’t quite reach. When it finally emerged to stand behind Deaton, Derek’s mouth sucked in a gasp.

“Laura.”

She smiled at him and nodded. There were tears in her eyes, and she was a little hazy and undefined, but he’d know his sister anywhere. He’d missed her so fucking much. Someone was tugging on his abdomen and a fierce little wail lit up the room. Laura’s face immediately flushed with a grin and she clasped her hands before lips. He smiled back at her.

“Laura.”

“What is he saying?”
“He’s saying Lauryl… she’s here Derek. She’s fine.”
“Oh my god, no … he’s saying Laura.”
“Where’s he looking?”
“The corner over there.”
“But there’s no one there!”
“I fucking see that, Scott! Derek… Derek… look at me okay? Look at ME.”

His sister stepped closer and tilted her head towards Stiles, arching an eyebrow. He could almost hear her saying, ‘really, Der? A teenager?’ He wished he could shrug his shoulder at her, but it was being uncooperative, so he just smirked a little instead. Derek watched as her eyes passed over his pack in contemplation and the smile slipped from his face.

“Did I do okay? Laura? Did I do okay?”

She gave him a watery smile as fresh tears slipped from her eyes. She nodded.

“Oh god! Don’t do this, Derek! Don’t do this! You have to believe, remember? Believe you son of a bitch! Don’t you leave me!”
“He’s losing a lot of blood, his body isn’t healing fast enough!”
“Scott! Hand me my bag! Quickly!”

Laura took a step back into the shadows and began to dissolve before his eyes. Derek frowned.

“Laura. Wait.”

She shook her head.

“NO! Don’t wait, Laura! GO! I’m sorry, but you can’t have him! We need him! I need him!”
“If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what else to do.”
“What are you doing!?”
“Need to jump start the healing process.”

His sister’s shadow slipped away again, breaking apart in the darkness of the house beyond the kitchen. He wanted to howl and chase after her. Follow her wherever she was going. Follow her as he’d always followed her. He could feel his eyes growing heavier. Wanted to beg for her to wait for him.

“Derek! DEREK! PLEASE DON’T DO THIS! OH GOD. PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!”
“Dammit! We’re losing him! We’re losing him!”
“You have to see your baby girl, Derek! Keep fighting!”

Tired. He was so tired. But he was so happy. He pushed out with his senses and his connection to the pack. Found them all around him. Surrounding him. His beta’s and the humans and his mate. All around. A new spark of life flared from somewhere nearby and he sensed his daughter. Her strength and her willpower. Her destiny to become the next alpha. He was content. He was satisfied.

“Please, Derek. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

He wasn’t lonely any more.

He closed his eyes.



~*~
EPILOUGE: 16 YEARS LATER
~*~

Stiles was enjoying his quiet morning sitting at the kitchen island, sipping his rapidly cooling coffee and reading the morning paper. Nothing big or exciting going on in Beacon Hills today, just how he liked it. Still a school day, though. He eyed the clock on the stove before turning his head to holler towards the stairs.

“Lauryl! You better be ready! Only fifteen minutes!”

There was a series of muffled thumps from the second floor, followed by a loud howl of frustration. A few minutes passed before the thundering footsteps of his teenage daughter raged down the stairs. Her long, black hair was a fly-away mess and her eyes, the same multi-colored beauties of her father, were wide and angry. She marched right up to him and pointed an accusing finger towards the stairs.

“Dad! Make him stop! I can’t handle the overprotective smothering for one more second. Colin is a very sweet boy and I want for just once to be able to ride to school with my boyfriend! Not in the back of a police cruiser! Like a criminal!”

Stiles just snickered at the over-abundance of teenage angst and wondered how his father had put up with him for so long without strangling the life out of him. She was staring at him beseechingly, but all he could manage was to take in her beautiful face and marvel at this fabulous creature that was his child. She looked so much like Derek that it often brought tears to his eyes.

“Dad!”

He laughed softly and shrugged his shoulders.

“What do you expect me to do about it? He’s the Sheriff … and you’re sixteen and gorgeous. He worries.”

His daughter groaned theatrically and threw herself into the barstool next to him. She plowed into the plate of food he’d left for her like a ravenous … well … wolf. There was a soft clearing of a throat and Stiles hadn’t even realized his father had seated himself as well. When their eyes met across the kitchen, his father tried very hard to school away the grin on his face. Stiles smiled, wide and bright, in return.

The silence was shattered by a beep of a car horn outside and resulting squeal of glee from his daughter.

“He’s here!!! Please, Dad! Pleeeeeeeeeeease?”

Stiles was just about to open his mouth to respond when a roar from upstairs nearly shook them all right off their seats. His father started cackling madly as the floor trembled and shrieked when someone decided to bypass the stairs altogether and jump from the second floor landing. Thank God they had been extremely thorough when renovating and remodeling this monstrosity, or there was a stubborn bastard who would have plummeted straight into the basement a dozen times over.

“NO!!”

Fuck. That voice still sent shivers down his spine. Of course, so did the shrill screech of his daughter’s raised voice. But for a completely different reason.

“DADDY! It’s not FAIR! Dad said it was okay!”

Stiles immediately shot his hands upward in his best ‘I’m staying out of this. I’m totally innocent.’ expression, while his father was now laughing openly across from him. Then an absolutely gorgeous specimen of a man stalked into the kitchen. Sculpted body encased in the sinfully tight uniform of the Beacon Hills Police Department. Stiles permitted himself to ogle. He was allowed dammit.

Derek had aged so gracefully that it sometimes made Stiles a little sick. Just a few laugh lines, a couple tiny crows feet at the eyes, and a smattering of silver across his temples. Other than that? Still perfection.

“No! You’re not riding to school with that boy! I’ll drop you off on my way to the-”

Lauryl was now practically wailing.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease, Daddy!! Please!! I know you’ve checked Colin’s record. He’s a safe driver! And he’s so sweet! If you’d only give him a chance!”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s very sweet when he’s trying to get you in the backseat of his car!”

“OH MY GOD! You did not just go there, Daddy!”

The kitchen burst into a cacophony of screaming at that point, so Stiles just sighed and turned back to his father … who was conspicuously absent now. Sneaky old man. Retires and then suddenly starts acting like ninja Grandpa. Around when there is spoiling to be done, but smoke on the breeze when it’s time for discipline. Stiles sighed once more before finally pushing himself to his feet.

“That’s enough.”

Both dark haired beauties instantly silenced and looked at him. Well … one glowered and the other was attempting her Uncle Scott’s best kicked puppy expression. Stiles turned to his daughter first.

“Get your bag. Get to school. Tell Colin we expect him to be a respectful young man, and he’ll be having dinner with the family on Saturday.”

Lauryl squealed in glee once again before launching herself at him for a tight hug and kiss to the cheek.

“Thank you, Dad!”

He nodded and shooed her away.

“Yeah, yeah you little kiss up. Just remember to remind him that your father is the Sheriff, and your grandfather was before him. They can make a body disappear.”

His daughter laughed as she gathered her stuff. Derek’s arms were crossed so tightly over his chest a couple buttons were in danger of popping right off his uniform. But he didn’t argue … much.

“If he touches you inappropriately I will rip his throat out-”

“With your teeth. Yes, Daddy, I know. Love you! Bye!”

The next instant their daughter was out the door and Derek was growling lowly at whatever he was overhearing from the driveway. Stiles chuckled softly as he walked up to his mate.

“You have to let her grow up, babe.”

His mate rolled his eyes dramatically (and he wonders where their daughter gets her theatrics from) before finally dropping his arms to his sides and blowing a frustrated breath between his lips.

“I’m not ready for it. It feels like it was just yesterday she was this cute, tiny thing that nibbled on my fingers when I tried to feed her.”

Stiles hummed softly as he stepped closer, wound his arms around that lovely neck and planted a kiss on his mate’s frowning mouth.

“Only you would think she was adorable while trying to gnaw your hand off.”

Derek snorted, then leaned forward to nuzzle his face into the curve of Stiles’ neck.

“She was so cute, and little and … quiet. What happened?”

The younger man snorted before leaning back to kiss gently again at his mate’s lips.

“Teenage-hood happened. Can you imagine? That’s how old I was when you met me.”

Derek groaned and pulled away.

“Don’t remind me. I’ve got to get to work. Boyd’s pulling a double and Erica’s already called me twice screaming for me to send him home.”

Stiles laughed and helped the werewolf put on his uniform jacket.

“Pregnancy suits her so well.”

The alpha quirked an eyebrow and answered with a smirk.

“Yeah, well, she can complain to me when her pup literally claws its way out of her stomach. Until then … no sympathy.”

Stiles tsked.

“Such a cruel, cruel alpha. Now get that ridiculous ass of yours to work.”

“You love my ass.”

The younger man grinned.

“Yeah. I really, really do.”

He watched his mate as the alpha retrieved his service revolver from the lock box and shrugged those massive shoulders into the role of official Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Keys to his police cruiser jingling in his fingers and broad back turned away from Stiles as he muttered something about schedules and dinner, but Stiles wasn’t even paying attention. The soft tone of his mate’s voice was barely making it past his skull, much less the actual words formed by that gorgeous mouth.

Stiles had drifted away. To half a lifetime ago.

“Babe?”

He snapped back to attention, met with the concerned gaze of his mate.

“Are you okay? You drifted away there.”

Stiles chuckled and nodded his head. Stepping forward, he reached up to straighten the lapels of the alpha’s jacket.

“Just thinking. Do you know what today is?”

Eyebrows raised high in confusion, Derek shook his head slowly in the negative. Stiles’ grin widened.

“Seventeen years ago today you called me to Deaton’s office to ask me to be your mate.”

Derek’s jaw dropped open.

“Really? That was today? You remember that?”

Stiles hummed under his breath and allowed his hands to roam up his mate’s neck to cup gently at his ever-scruffy (though now a little gray) jaw.

“Yup.”

“Wow.”

“Yup. Do you ever regret it?”

Derek tilted his head and scrunched his nose adorably.

“The circumstances? Or asking you?”

Stiles shrugged his shoulders.

“Both.”

The alpha stepped closer and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s neck.

“Never.”

The world’s sexiest Sheriff (Stiles dared anyone to dispute that fact. Dared them.) leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss against his lips before moving away.

“Gotta go. Love you.”

Stiles smiled as he watched the werewolf open the front door and step out into the sun.

“Love you, too. See you tonight.”

Derek turned back to give a little wave as he pulled the door closed behind him, bright morning light sparkling and dancing off the well-worn golden band of metal snug on his left hand.

~*~
THE END
~*~
MASTER POST