Title: Hands Off
Disclaimer: Teen Wolf is owned by Jeff Davis, and other associated parties. Supernatural is owned by Eric Kripke and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.
Summary: AU/Crossover, het, D/S, No one messes with what is hers.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: SuperWolf, girl!Stiles, pregnant!Stiles, hurt!Derek, protective!Derek, protective!Stiles, language, nongraphic violence
Pairings/Characters: Derek/Stiles, Derek, Stiles, Sam, Dean
Word Count: 774
Author's Note: I just want to see this happen. Momma Stiles would be like "Oh hell no, you did not just shoot my hubby. You will pay for that."
xXx
The woods are silent around them as they run through the trees, guns held close and eyes scanning for any sign of movement. They've been chasing the creature for a while now. It's wounded, they know that much, but even wounded, the beast is fast.
"Dean, wait," Sam says, grabbing his brother's arms and pulling him to a stop. "Do you hear that?" he asks softly.
They pause and listen and can just make out the ragged breathing of something big. Dean nods to the right silently and they creep forward. It comes into view, clawed hand pressed against its chest as blood seeps between its fingers.
Its white Henley isn't white anymore. Piercing red eyes stare up at them in a heated glare, teeth gnashing at them in anger and fear as they step closer. "Easy Sam, no need to get too close," Dean says as Sam takes a step closer.
They're just lifting their shotguns to shoot when the unmistakable
sound of someone cocking their own gun sounds behind them. "You'll step the fuck away from him, or I'm blowing your brains out," a woman's voice sounds behind them.
Sam and Dean hold their hands and guns up, turning slowly. They can only stare at the sight before them. The woman is tiny, her feet bare and dirty and her brown hair chopped short. It's obvious she's pregnant, her stomach round and protruding and she glares at them with a cold hatred, golden eyes hard as steel.
"Move away from him and throw all your weapons over there," she motions towards the other side of the small path they're on. They do as directed, tossing their guns to the side.
"Stiles," the thing grits out eyes never leaving the woman.
"Not now, Sourwolf, momma's saving your ass again," the woman, Stiles says, not looking away from the two of them.
"Look lady, we don't want any trouble. It's just, we're hunters and we hunt shit like him. It's the family business," Dean says, trying to placate the woman.
"I know what the fuck you are. You're not the first pair of hunters to come waltzing in here thinking they could make an easy kill. But you will keep your filthy hands off my husband. Kapish?" Stiles says.
"Wait a minute, your husband?" Sam glances between Stiles and the thing behind her where she's slowly placed herself between them. The creature's face has smoothed out, face human except for the still red eyes. Eyes which have still not left Stiles.
"Stiles," the thing says softly.
"Not now Derek," she says.
"Stiles, your water broke," he says evenly.
"No shit Sherlock, it broke about ten minutes back. Now is not the time to be interrupting me when I'm trying to keep you alive," she says.
Sam takes a closer look at her and can see sweat beading on her forehead, her pupils huge even though it is really bright out. "You're going into labor?" Sam says, shocked that Stiles is still on her feet, let alone wielding a gun at them.
"Why is this suddenly a topic of choice?" she asks.
"What do you mean labor?" Dean asks and it's funny how his voice squeaks on "labor" as he glances between Sam and Stiles.
Sam watches as a wince crosses Stiles' face, no doubt the adrenalin that kept her moving before is now wearing off. "Shit," she curses and her hand clutches at her stomach, panting heavily through a contraction.
"Damn it Derek, your kid could have picked a better time to come," Stiles hisses. Before both hunters can even blink, Derek is rushing forward as Stiles' legs give out, holding her as they settle on the ground.
"We need to get you to the hospital," Derek is saying but Stiles ignores him.
She's still staring at the two hunters, gun still trained. "He is not evil. He has not hurt anyone except in self-defense. We, we protect this town. Talk to the Argent's we have a truce between us. He's…he's…fuck," she grits out as another contraction hits.
"All right," Dean says softly, stepping back. "Go, take her to the hospital. Sam, we need to speak with this Argent guy," Dean says.
Derek looks grateful and scoops Stiles up in his arms, carrying her at a run through the trees away from them. "We'll, that was odd," Sam says, walking over to pick up their guns.
"No one will ever know that we got held up by a pregnant woman," Dean says with a look at Sam. Sam just snorts and the two brothers start walking back to where they parked their car.
End.