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Stiles loved nights like these. Ones where he wasn’t running from monsters. Where someone wasn’t bleeding out and dying. He was adding information into the Bestiary at his desk. The click of the keys and rustle of paper the only real sounds in the room. He wasn’t alone though. Derek sat quietly in the corner. Reading through an English mythology book in the old wingback Stiles had shoved between his dresser and bookshelf.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Hmmm.” Derek muttered.
“How do you know if a baby is a wolf?”
“Huh?”
Stiles heard the creak of the chair as Derek set the book on the arm and turned his attention to the teen.
“You’re a born wolf, but like, how did your parents know you were a wolf? Are all kids born to wolves automatically wolves?”
“No,” Derek said, shaking his head. “Not all. My youngest siblings were human.” He paused; his voice tight. “My dad was.”
Stiles stopped mid key-stroke. He didn’t turn around. He knew it was hard for Derek to talk about his family.
“How could you tell? Is it a scent thing or do they flash their eyes or something? Oh! What about baby fangs and claws, when do you get those?!”
Derek huffed out a laugh, knowing what Stiles was doing. He appreciated it more than he could probably say.
“Part of it is smell. There’s a, I guess you could call it an underlying musk, to their scent. It’s a little earthier, a little richer, than a normal humans’. I’m not sure if that’s the same for all weres or just wolves though. I’ve never met another were baby.”
“Wait,” Stiles said, spinning around to face Derek. His eyes were huge and the excitement was almost palpable. “There are other types of weres?!”
“Uh, yeah. You’ve read about them. Kitsunes, otsos, jaguars…I mean, Malia is coyote.”
“I…” Stiles’ face went through a variety of emotions before settling on chagrined. “I guess I just never thought of it before. Do they all use the bite the same way?”
Derek shook his head, leaning forward in the chair. “No. I’m pretty sure only the canines can do that, and maybe the foxes. From what I remember, jaguars used to be just like normal weres, but at some point, they started dying out and now the only time you get them is if the bite goes wrong. I’m not sure if that’s accurate or not though. I know most of the others are born only and they can all shift.”
“What, you mean like a beta shift?”
“No, a full shift. The wolves and wild dogs are the only ones with Alpha/Beta/Omega statuses. Probably because in the wild they have a hierarchy. The Prides have a head. Normally an older female.” He frowned as he thought about the stories he heard growing up. “I think some of the foxes have some sort of weird relationship with the bears, but I don’t know if that’s all bears, or just polar bears.” He shrugged. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met any others.”
“This is so cool,” Stiles said excitedly. “And we will definitely come back to this at some point, but what about the puppies? Do they have claws and fangs? What about their eyes?”
Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles’ exuberance. “They’re not puppies, Stiles.”
“Dude,” he breathed, making a scandalous expression. He held up one hand palm up, “Baby wolves…” then he held up the other. “Puppies. Ta-may-to, ta-mah-toh.”
Derek huffed, trying to keep a straight face. Sometimes Stiles sense of humor was actually funny.
“No fangs or claws, not until they’re older. It’d be weird if they had fangs before human teeth.” He tilted his head, eyes narrowed as he remembered something his cousin had once said. “I think hyenas may get fangs first though. My cousin Lucas used to tell us stories about packs of baby hyenas chasing wolves down, but he might have been messing with us, trying to scare us.”
He grimaced at the floor; his face scrunched up adorably. “He was Peter’s favorite.”
Stiles barked out a laugh. “That would not surprise me in the least.”
“The eye thing is true. I remember Cora flashing her eyes at our mother when she was a baby. I think it was only in response to another wolf doing it first.”
“Like, I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours?”
Derek choked, glancing up at the teen’s shit eating grin. “Something like that,” he hedged.
“Huh.”
“Why the sudden interest in wolf pups?”
“Oh, no reason,” Stiles said, waving the question away. “It’s just, I’ve only got the Betas for examples, you know? And I figured teenage werewolves probably have the worst control ever, just because they are teenagers, but that got me wondering if babies would be better or not. You know how they say the terrible twos are a nightmare, I just wondered if that would be even worse if you had to deal with fangs and claws as well.”
Derek looked over at the teen, surprised and a little impressed at his reasoning. He always forgot how smart Stiles was until he brought something like this up.
“They’re the same, I’d imagine. Cora was a nightmare. So was Merrick, but Freddy was really easy.”
“Merrick and Freddy were human?”
“Yes, they were only four when…” he broke off to stare angrily at Stiles’ comforter.
“What about you? Where did you fall on the nightmare scale?”
Derek shot him a look that was all eyebrows, making Stiles burst out laughing.
He huffed, sitting back in the chair and crossing his arms defensibly. “I was an angel…until I was thirteen, then a bit of a nightmare, I guess.”
“Momma’s boy?” Stiles asked carefully.
Derek shook his head, a small, sad smile making him look younger. “No,” he croaked. He swallowed and tried again. “No, Freddy and I were more like my dad. My mom was always working, either in town or doing something for the Pack. Dad worked from home, so he was the one we went to when something happened. He used to make these brownies that…” Derek sighed wistfully. “They were double chocolate smores, but he used peanut butter and they were amazing.”
He shook his head, smiling a little more when he looked up at Stiles. “We only ever got them on our birthdays, but they were better than any cake.”
Stiles gave him a gentle smile, remembering his own mother. “Sounds like a great dad.”
“He was. He was quieter than mom. Liked to sit and read on the back porch. I remember crawling into his lap and just sitting with him while he’d read. Freddy did the same thing.”
“He was human?”
“Yeah.”
Stiles bit his lip, wanting to ask, but not wanting to break up the softness of the moment.
Derek huffed out a breath. “Just ask,” he said, relaxing into the chair.
“If you had humans in the Pack, why do you hate having me in it so much?”
Derek’s head snapped up to lock eyes with the teen. He took a deep breath, smelling nerves and sadness, and longing.
“I don’t hate having you in the Pack, Stiles,” he said stiltedly. “I hate how you keep throwing yourself into danger when you’ve got an entire Pack to do that. There’s a difference.”
“But…” he looked frustrated and a little surprised. “But what else am I supposed to do? It’s so frustrating, watching you guys get hurt and knowing I can’t do anything about it. That you won’t let me help.”
Derek stood and crossed the room to him slowly. He stared down into huge doe eyes and wondered how the hell he’d ended up here, talking about his dead family with a sixteen-year-old human kid who’d hurl himself into battle without a care. He sighed as he kneeled before him and tentatively took one of Stiles’ clenched fists.
“My dad didn’t fight. Not on the front lines anyways. That was the wolves’ job. But that didn’t mean he was useless either. When the Pack is big enough, when they’re capable enough, the wolves are the first line of defense. We heal where you don’t, but the humans weren’t worthless. My dad was an expert marksman and a hell of a boxer. He’d sit up on the top of the house and shoot whatever got through the wolves. His job was defense and strategy and he was damn good at it.” He took a shaky breath and let it out. “You remind me a lot of him actually.”
“Really?” Stiles asked surprised.
“When you’re not being a sarcastic asshole,” Derek quipped, making Stiles snort. “Then you remind me of Peter. You’re kind of a weird combination actually, which is a bit terrifying.”
Stiles couldn’t help the bark of laughter.
“If we were stronger, more prepared, then I’d suggest you did what my dad did. But we aren’t and as much as I hate it, I need every one of us on the front lines, but I’m never going to like it, Stiles. I hate seeing you and Lydia get hurt.”
“Not so much Allison?”
Derek’s nose scrunched up like he’d bitten into a lemon. “Eh, sometimes. I don’t want her hurt, but she’s been trained. She knows how to take a punch and role with it. You and Lydia don’t.”
“Can’t you teach us?” Stiles asked hesitantly, like he was afraid Derek was going to run away now that they were talking about fighting.
Derek pulled back slightly, but Stiles held on to his hand. He really liked holding Derek’s hand.
“I don’t know how,” Derek finally said. “I barely know how to train the Betas.”
Stiles blinked as he thought. “I, uh, I may have thought of a way to help with that.”
Derek raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t kill me, but I’ve been talking to the K-9 handlers at the station and they had some tips.”
“K-9 handlers.” Derek deadpanned.
“I know, I know! But dude, the stuff they teach the bomb dogs is a lot like what we need to do. And commands, oh my God, they seriously need to learn to heel when we are in a fight.”
Derek snorted at that. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to see what you’ve put together, but I still don’t know how to teach you.”
Stiles bit his lip. “My dad does these…well, it’s not really my dad, but the station does these self-defense classes for women and stuff. If Lydia and I did those, could you maybe help us refine them, so we can be better prepared to deal with claws too?”
Derek leaned back a bit. Stiles was just so damn earnest in his desire to help. “If we do this, I need you to stay to the back during a fight.” He held up a hand to stop the protest before Stiles could start. “Even with classes and us practicing, your strongest weapon is your mind. If you’re behind us, you can see the entire battle field and can direct us where to go.”
“Are you actually saying you’ll listen to me?”
Derek nodded slowly. “If, after we train, you can promise me to take a step back unless it’s absolutely necessary, then I’ll promise to try and listen.”
Stiles snickered slightly. “I guess that’s the best I’m going to get from you, huh, Sourwolf?”
Derek rolled his eyes as he stood. He hesitated, glancing down at the teen who looked up at him questioningly. Derek reached out and rubbed his hand down the side of Stiles’ neck quickly before returning to his chair and book.
“Get back to work, Stiles,” he muttered embarrassed. It’d been a long time since he’d scented someone who wasn’t a wolf.
Stiles sat there shocked until he realized what Derek had done.
His smile, when it came, was luminous. “Sure thing, Alpha,” he said, making Derek’s ears burn red.
“Smart. Ass.” He heard Derek mutter as he turned back to his laptop.
He snickered softly, the room falling back into companionable silence.
Yeah, he really loved nights like these.
-end-