A/N: Okay, so this is my response to an ANON's prompt for mpreg. I have not got the ability (or time) to write a lengthy fic, so here's a short angsty one instead. This is a accidentally-acquired-magically-induced-spontaneous-pregnancy that involves Stiles temporary being pregnant by someone's baby due to some spark mis-timing and the drama that immediately follows that. Kind of gen, but hints at pre-sterek.
Disclaimer: TW and it's characters are not mine. Infringement not intended.
Zero To Sixty
Wrong place? Wrong time?
Right Place? Wrong time?
A simple case of bad luck?
Smart mouth, pinwheeling arms, a penchant for falling on his face, Lydia had once described him.
Stiles isn't sure any of the above explains the situation he's now in.
All he knows for sure is his life sucks balls.
And right now? His life has gone from relatively normal, werewolves included, to downright weird.
It had started out with him doing a favor. A simple task of dropping lunch off for Melissa, stuck doing a double shift, because Scott was working down at the clinic.
"What would I do without you?" Melissa beams at him, taking the brown paper bag from him as he dangles it enticingly in front of her.
"Have to wait for your actual biological son?" Stiles quirks an eyebrow at her.
"True," she nods before leaning across the desk and ruffling his hair. "Good thing you're my favorite non-biological son."
Stiles grins, ducking away, hiding the blush that inadvertently rose.
The moment was ruined by an alarm and a call for help.
Melissa barely throws a "Sorry" over her shoulder before darting away.
Stiles tuts, eyeing the abandoned bag of food before snagging it up. He leaves a post it note on the computer screen Melissa had been working on, telling her he was putting it in the staff fridge.
It was on his way out that the good deed, and average good day, soured when Stiles literally bumps into trouble.
"Oh! Jeez… sorry, are you okay?" Stiles immediately starts to apologise to the pregnant woman he'd just walked right into. The very pregnant woman.
"Ma'am? Are you okay?" Stiles asks again when she didn't reply. The woman looked dazed and in pain by the way she was biting her lip and rubbing her stomach. "Do I need to get a doctor?"
"Where is he?" she asks, her eyes clearing, inhaling sharply. Her hand snatches hold of Stiles sleeve and twists.
"Who?" Stiles asks, confused. "The doctor?"
She nods, wincing.
"Well, if you hadn't noticed, we're in a hospital…" Stiles laughs, nervously. "You're not even on the right floor for maternity."
Well, there goes his smart mouth.
"Don't play games with me," pregnant lady snarls, eye's flashing gold for a second. Stiles only has a second to think oh shit before his pinwheeling arms get any action and then he's being dragged, one armed right into a wall, a very large, rounded stomach being pushed against his own flat one. "I can smell them on you," she growls, pushing an arm against his windpipe. "You smell like a boy who runs with wolves."
Stiles gulps nervously, feeling it stick against his Adams apple, forcing him to swallow again, with more force.
"Tell me where he is?" she demands again.
"Who?" Stiles manages to wheeze against the pressure.
"The doctor, the man who helps my kind…" she snarls into his ear.
"Oh, lady…" Stiles chokes on a laugh. It was probably the most inappropriate time to laugh, but nerves and utter amazement at how wrong she was, only made his reaction even stronger. "You don't know your shit, do you?"
Pregnant lady responds by pressing even harder on his throat.
"He treats dogs, not people…" the words can barely get past his lips. Pregnant lady frowns in confusion. "He's a veterinarian. You won't find him here."
Pregnant lady doesn't press any harder but she doesn't let go either.
"You mind easing up a little," Stiles croaks, patting her arm. "I can't help you if I can't breathe."
She immediately backs up.
"I need his help," she says, staring at him hard.
"I can see that," Stiles coughs, straightening his clothes.
"I'm having a baby," she says, still staring.
"I can see that too," he says, gesturing to the obvious bump.
Pregnant lady continues to stare, as if waiting for something. Stiles stares back, eyes raising expectantly. Their stare off only comes to an end when she doubles up, crying out in pain.
"Oh… you mean like right now?" Stiles suddenly starts to panic. "You're having a baby right now?"
She nods, still clutching at her belly, only when she looks up, to Stiles horror, she's flitting between shifting and not-shifting, eyes flashing, teeth extending, unnaturally hairy.
"Woah, okay…. that's not good," Stiles hesitates a second before going to her side, trying to usher the very pregnant, in labor, shifting wolf into the open elevator that was conveniently both waiting for them and empty. "Keep your head down. I'll help you. Then Deaton will help you. And then you'll have a really healthy bouncy baby to hold. Just please don't shred me to death before then," he tells her, eyeing her unsheathed claws. "Okay?"
Once in the elevator, they immediately part, pregnant lady, going to a corner and Stiles staying by the controls stabbing the ground floor button over and over, its descent going too slow for an emergency.
There's a gasp from behind and then a howl.
"No, no, no…" Stiles says, abandoning the controls and going over to her. He flaps his arms uselessly, trying to get her attention. "You can't do that. Beacon Hills has a tendency to shoot and ask questions later. You gotta keep quiet."
She pants hard.
"It's coming, the baby's coming," she cries instead, sliding down the elevator wall.
"Okay, okay…" Stiles says, gently touching her arm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. As tactile as he was with Scott and Lydia, hell… even Derek, he wasn't good with strangers. Or people in general. It was a social anxiety thing. "Let's try some breathing exercises. I'm good at panic attacks…" he shook his head, mixing his words with panic and his own suffocating anxiety. "I mean I'm good at the breathing thing. Try it with me, yeah?" Stiles asks.
Pregnant lady nods and Stiles even tries to rub her arm.
Of course, that's when the already shitty day takes an even shittier turn for the worse.
Pregnant lady screams out in pain, curled fists uncurling, claws extending so quickly Stiles doesn't even get a chance to pull his arm away. Claws are suddenly embedded into his arm. Fucking embedded in his arm.
Black veins appear on her arm.
Only the veins don't recede away from him, or take any of the pain from her fucking embedded claws. They start reversing towards him.
She mumbles something, a few times, in another language and doubles over in pain. When she rears back, head falling against the back of the elevator wall, Stiles can see her eyes flashing amber-gold.
"Hey!" Stiles yelps, trying to yank his arm away, feeling his skin tear a little. She responds by digging deeper as she cries out as another contraction rips through her. "What the hell are you doing?"
Stiles knows with a dreaded clarity that nothing good was going to happen once the blackened veins reach him.
"Let go!" he orders, but it's no use and as soon as the vines reach him, he feels a pressure in his chest and something – no, not something, him – was exploding and he, the pregnant lady and the entire of the elevator are engulfed in white.
When Stiles comes to he's on the other side of the elevator. From the way his body aches this is where he probably landed. He has a vague recollection of flying through the air at some point.
There's the sound of breathing in the room so he knows pregnant lady is alive.
"You okay?" he manages to ask, voice rough in his throat.
"Ye… yeah…" she stutters out. "Freaking out a little."
"What the hell happened?" he asks, still star-fished out on the ground.
"You went kablooey," he hears her say.
"You did the reverse pain drain," Stiles argues back. "So not cool… wait what do you mean I went kablooey?"
"You. Went. Kablooey. " She repeats as though he's slow. "Like, you literally exploded."
"Huh," Stiles huffs, feeling muzzy headed. "Is the baby okay?"
"I don't know," she replies. "You tell me?"
"What?" Stiles asks, crinkling his nose in confusion. "Last time I checked you were the one who was pregnant."
"Yeah?" he hears her breathe out, sounding just as bewildered as he does. "Maybe you should check again."
"Wha…" he starts to ask, trying to sit up. Only he can't. The best thing he can do is try to waddle and even then all he can really do is lift his head and attempt a levelled look at her to say what the hell are you on about? Only he can't see anything beyond the huge baby bump obscuring his view.
His huge baby bump.
"Oh boy," he mutters to himself.
"Okay, let's go over this again…"
"I already told you," Stiles mutters, pacing back and forth.
"Tell me again," Deaton orders, arms folded, face pinched in worry and confusion. They're really not a good combination and do nothing to ease Stiles spiralling panic.
Stiles had spent a pathetic amount of time squawking and struggling like a beached whale before Kelly – because, apparently, that's what the now non-pregnant lady was called – managed to lift him off the floor and drag him through the halls of the hospital to his jeep. Thankfully they had managed some kind of miracle because no one seemed to notice that the Sheriff's son was poorly trying to conceal a huge, swollen stomach with his hastily-reversed hoodie tied around his waist.
Kelly had offered to drive but Stiles had laughed it off. Yeah, right, no one was driving his baby and there was nothing that would change his mind, baby bump included. He'd barely been able to squeeze it behind the wheel and had whined pitifully when he'd had to push his chair back, the jeep groaning and creaking its protest as he did so. Thankfully the pain and contractions Kelly had been experiencing had altogether disappeared in its transition to Stiles. He shuddered at the thought of subjecting the jeep to unwanted bodily fluids, thinking it would be a bitch to get out of the upholstery.
"How many times…" He groans.
Scott stares at him, eyes still comically wide, tracking his every movement back and forth like he's the most interesting game of tennis he's ever seen. Derek's skulking in the corner, frowning at him as though he's ruined his day.
It was bad enough that his best friend had to see him waddling like an over-fed penguin, but Derek too! It was Scott's fault that the elder wolf was even here – Scott had taken one look at Stiles, eyes drawing slowly down to his tummy with his wide, shocked eyes and then immediately called Derek, despite Stiles protests, ordering his presence with a "I have a situation that demands your immediate attention."
Of course, Stiles had thought, sarcastically, because Derek and the Hales knowledge of wolf-human sharing obstetric skills was widely known.
Stiles had scoffed at the thought and directed his attention towards Deaton instead.
It wasn't a surprise that Derek didn't have any experience in this field.
However, it was completely panic inducing to realize Deaton didn't have a clue either.
"She did the reverse pain-drain thing," Stiles glares at the wolf sitting uncomfortably in the corner.
"- He went kablooey…" she accuses, cutting in, glaring defiantly back.
They'd exchanged names in the car, both taking an instant dis-like of the other, exchanging insults and accusations of blame.
"This is not my fault!" Stiles snaps, rounding on her. "I didn't do anything."
"Neither did I!" she lifts her chin, obviously challenging him. He hears her mumble "You're the one who went kablooey…"
"You're the one who…" Stiles starts up again, whirling, arms flying around him in a whirlwind of rage.
"Hey!" Scott intercepts him, drawing his arm around him and trying to lead him away from the wolf. Kelly lifts her head and quirks an eyebrow at him causing Stiles to seethe with rage. "She's…"
"Not the one with a bun in the oven!" Stiles exclaims in frustration, pulling away and burying his head into his hands. "Oh god," he whines into his hands, eyes prickling with frustrated tears. "Please tell me you can reverse-reverse this, Deaton?"
"This is…" Deaton says, waving a hand between them. "Kind of new to me."
"Nope. Not what I want to hear, Doc!"
"I'll need to…" Deaton says, wiping a hand down his face and turning to a pile of reference books. "Consult a few books."
"No consulting books!" Stiles stamps his foot and Kelly guffaws a snort. She stops laughing, swallowing the next round of guffaws when not only Stiles but Scott and Derek both turn matching glares at her.
"Got it. No laughing at the misfortunes of the mere human."
"You're gonna fix this," Stiles tells the man, ignoring Kelly.
"I have never seen this before," Deaton says, shaking his head, already leafing through pages. "Although there have been mentions of stories before. Myths. Legends."
"Legends?" Stiles mutters, eyeballing Deaton hard. "Legends?"
"Take it easy, Stiles…" Scott tries to soothe, hesitatingly reaching an arm around his shoulders and leading him to the opposite side of the room. Stiles huffs in annoyance when he's gently forced to sit on a pile of crates while Kelly – formerly heavily pregnant – sits on the only vacant chair in the room. Stiles can ignore the poor etiquette though, because Scott's rubbing his back and petting him like he's some sort of wounded animal and yeah, that should be totally mortifying, but right now it just feels nice. "Okay, Deaton, is there anything you can tell us about these legends that can help us out and settle Stiles nerves a bit."
"There's stories of emissaries and sparks being able to carry another pack members baby before. I've heard whispers here and there that it occurs every now and then but it's never been documented and is considered to be taboo to talk about."
"Why?" Scott asks, frowning in confusion. "Isn't this something that should be known? I mean how can Stiles actually be carrying a baby? I don't really understand."
"Yeah…" Stiles pipes up, from where's he's leaning against Scott's solid side. He realizes, a little belatedly, that his hand is resting over his swollen tummy, fingers fluttering there, rubbing at it in soothing circles. Fucking stupid hormonal reactions. "I haven't even been laid yet. How the hell can I get pregnant? This is some weird accidentally acquired pregnancy shit."
"That's what you got from that?" Derek finally speaks, eyes both bemused and frowning in worry. "Stiles, you shouldn't even be able to carry a child."
"Well, from the legends I have heard a male emissary or spark have been known to be able to just that," Deaton says. He still has a handful of books in his hands. Frustratingly, he shakes his head as he finishes with one and starts with another. "From what I think you're telling me, it sounds like Kelly here was able to somehow transfer it to you."
"Told you it was because of her," Stiles gripes.
"Because of the spark thing?" Scott asks, ignoring him.
"Told you," Kelly mutters back.
"Because of both," Deaton nods. "Although I have never heard of it happening between members of different packs. I'm guessing that might have something to do with Stiles ability."
"Why?" he asks. He attempts to pull at his jacket, trying to hide himself amongst the material but embarrassingly it only reaches halfway. "I'm not that powerful."
"Stiles, you shouldn't have even been able to make that circle around Jungle, but you managed it…" Deaton says.
"But…"
"I think you're more powerful than we even realized," Deaton continues.
"Told you," Kelly repeats. Again.
"Why is it taboo?" Scott asks, flashing a look warning at her. Stiles preens at his side. Seriously though, why the hell is he reacting likethis? When has he ever preened at anyone? "Why don't packs want anyone to know?"
"At my guess it would be because they want to protect their pack member," Deaton shrugs. "This ability is rare and some may want to take advantage of it."
"Why?" Stiles asks again, eyes widening in alarm. "Are there underground breeding?" he balks. He turns and levels a look at Derek. "Seriously, Sourwolf, does that even exist?"
"How would I know?" Derek snaps at him with more force than necessary. Stiles flinches and thinks rude, does he not see I'm pregnant?
"Right," Stiles says, more to himself than anyone else. "First rule of underground breeding, we don't talk about underground breeding." He pauses for a second before continuing. "Actually first rule of top secret magic spark-inducing pregnancies, we don't talk about top secret magic spark-induc…"
"Hey," Scott jostles him, speaking warmly in his ear. "No one's going to breed from you. We're not gonna let that happen."
Stiles nods anyway despite the fact that only an hour ago he wasn't even pregnant. His hands flutter over his stomach again as a pinch of pain stabs at him. It's barely there and Stiles tries to suck in the surprised gasp before anyone realizes he even had it in the first place.
Because there's no way that is happening. Having a magically-induced-bun-baking-in the-oven is one thing. But actually delivering it? Yeah. Not happening.
Scott cocks his head, eyes roaming down to his stomach and reaches out to rest a hand over Stiles splayed fingers before Stiles can react.
"You're in pain," he observes.
"I'm okay," Stiles shakes his head, voice a little breathless.
"You gotta learn to lie if you're gonna play with wolves," Kelly drawls. "I'll warn you now, Sweetheart…" she stage whispers. "It only gets worse from here."
"Not helping," Stiles finds himself panting as another twinge tightens his stomach muscles.
"Okay," Scott soothes, drawing some of the pain away.
"See, lady…" Stiles glares at Kelly. "This is how you do it."
"How come Stiles isn't as developed into labor as Kelly was?" Scott asks, removing the last tendril of pain. "From what Stiles said Kelly was ready to drop."
"I'm not an expert but it seems the transition between the two disrupted the progress and by the time it reached Stiles it actually seems to have reverted to a previous stage," Deaton shrugs.
"Time travel?" Stiles manages a dry chuckle, patting his stomach. "You hear that, little guy? You managed to Marty McFly the shit out of this."
Of course, now that Scott's opened his mouth, whatever dam Stiles had managed to put in place breaks, and another ripple of pain erupts.
"Fuck," he grinds out, latching onto Scott's hand.
"Okay…" Deaton says, abandoning his books to pat the exam table in the middle of the room. "Now would be a good time to have a look at what's happening. Hop up on the table."
Stiles tries to hop. He really does. Only it stumbles into a waddled startle that Scott immediately stalls with steadying hands at his back and arm.
The aborted hop and broken dam releases something else and he feels something warm and wet run down his legs, wetting his pants and dampening his sneakers.
"Oh, man…" Stiles startles, feeling grossed out and fighting the urge to hurl. "What the hell is this?"
"Your waters broke," Scott says, equally shocked, helping Stiles side-step the pooling puddle of baby-juice.
"Figured she already did that," Stiles huffs.
"Time travel, remember?" Kelly says with a roll of the eyes.
"Not help…" Stiles starts to snap but doubles over in pain, actually yelling out this time.
"Okay! Time for me to leave…" Kelly says, standing up abruptly, attempting to make a beeline for the door.
"Hell no!" Stiles pants out, horrified. He shoves Scott in what he hopes is the general direction of the rogue wolf. "Don't let her leave, Scott. Sit on her if you have to."
He needn't have worried. Scott's suddenly alphering the shit out of her and suddenly Kelly is cowering back on her seat and looking shame-faced.
"Don't move," Scott orders her.
"Don't worry, Stiles…" Deaton says, pointing across the room. "I put mountain ash around the door. The only two that can leave the room are you and I, if we need to."
"Good to know," Stiles nods, struggling with his pants.
"Derek, help Stiles with his pants and onto the table," Deaton says.
Stiles jumps in surprise when Derek suddenly invades his personal space, tugging at his pants.
"I can do it," Stiles mutters but reluctantly concedes to his help when his swollen stomach resists his attempt at bending over to remove the stubborn, wet material that refuses to slide from his damp legs.
It only when he's shyly stepping out of the pooled material at his feet that he dazedly realizes Derek Hale can actually see his dick. It kind of supersedes the fact that Derek can see him half naked and pregnant.
"Those were my best," Stiles dejectedly says, looking down at the ruined pants. They weren't. Not really. Second favorite at best. His best pants got ruined last year when he ended up full on body sliding through a pool of blood and what looked like brain matter.
Scott squawks in surprise when Stiles finally lays down on the cold table, eyeballing his nether regions in shock. In fact, he looks even more shocked then when he first arrived at the animal clinic.
"Scott!" Stiles squeaks out, embarrassed. When the shock doesn't recede, Stiles pulls his legs together, face heating. "What?"
"There's a hole," Scott says, mouth still open. Only now he's pointing too. Kelly tries to lean around him to see and Stiles flails on the table, hands flapping around him uselessly.
"What?"
Scott just continues staring, open mouthed.
"Scott!" he growls in frustration. When he doesn't respond Stiles reaches out and snags Derek's jacket in his hand, dragging him closer. "What the hell is he on about?"
"Don't look at me," Derek's eyes widen in horror. "I'm not looking."
"Thank fuck!" Stiles sighs, dropping his head down on the table and closing his eyes.
The soft feel of material over his legs surprises him and he opens his eyes to see that Derek was in the midst of throwing a clean white sheet over him, keeping Kelly's still roaming eyes from seeing anything further.
"Thanks," Stiles says, tiredly.
Deaton ushers Scott away who immediately turns his attention to Kelly, blocking her from looking at Stiles. She ends up withering under his stare.
Deaton clucks, head disappearing under the raised sheet, and then reappears with a nod.
"You have a hole," Deaton concludes and Stiles thinks how easy it would be to lift a foot and kick the bald headed man in the face and blame it on the infamous Stilinski twitch. "Seems like your body is reacting to labor."
"Meaning?" Stiles asks although he really doesn't need the older man to spell it out. His body has created a magically-induced vagina to aid his accidentally-acquired-magically-induced-spontaneous-pregnancy.
"It's getting ready to deliver the baby."
"Not happening, Doc. So. Figure. It. Out," Stiles orders.
Deaton immediately goes back to his books, Scott murmurs at Kelly and Derek somehow ends up at Stiles side, hand resting on his shoulder every time Stiles has a contraction. Stiles looks at Derek each time, face torn between angry-embarrassment and plain gratitude.
The contractions don't get any faster, so he figures they have a little time to figure it out.
He listens to the quiet counselling Scott gives Kelly. Figures, really. There he is in the midst of labor and Scott is giving the person responsible a therapy session.
"Do you want this baby?" Scott asks.
"I… I thought I did…" she admits. Stiles can tell by the way her voice sounds and the occasional sniffle that she's crying. "Things happened. And I left. I didn't plan for that to happen to your friend but now it has I just thought…" she stutters over her words. "Maybe it's for the best?"
"What happened? What changed?"
Stiles has to give Scott credit. His voice is soft and encouraging, warm to even his own ears. He feels calmer just listening to him.
"My alpha," she starts and then sighs. "He's been away for a few months now. One of the pack members did something and now he's dealing with the fall-out. Something to do with damage control and pack negotiations and territory. He didn't even tell me what was going on. Said he didn't want me involved."
"Sounds like he was trying to protect you," Scott says. "Does he even know you're gone?"
"By now I'm sure his other betas have told him," she says. "They didn't seem to like me anyway. I wasn't born into the pack. I met him and we instantly clicked. He said I was his mate. I'm not like the others though…"
Stiles isn't sure what she means exactly and kind of drifts off to Derek's mojo painkilling skills.
He comes back to Scott's firm voice encouraging Kelly not to run from her responsibility or her fear.
"But he just left, and it's been weeks," he hears her say, voice bordering on warbling into an emotional outburst. "I'm having his baby and he won't even tell me what's going on. I can't… I can't talk to the others… I…"
"I know it's scary. I know it sucks right now," Scott soothes her.
"Sucks man…" Stiles sluggishly agrees even though he's pretty sure he's missed half, if not most, of the explanation.
"Do you trust your alpha?"
"I guess…" she says. "He's never really done anything I haven't trusted."
"That's your baby in Stiles right now," Scott reminds her.
"I know that," she huffs.
"Stiles is my best friend. I love him like a brother and I can't let him go through this."
Stiles grins stupidly at that.
"You don't want that either," Scott continues. "I can tell. Whatever happens Kelly, we'll help you figure it out."
"I don't want to be alone," Stiles hears her admit. "It's scary."
Stiles doesn't know if he should feel for her or not – part of him sympathises with her, he knows the dreaded feeling of fear and anxiety of not knowing, of losing people and having others drift away from you – but he finds himself quipping away without his consent.
"Try going from Zero to Sixty," he mumbles from the table. "At least you had nine months to prepare."
"Stiles…" Scott warns.
The warning fades away when Stiles practically curls up on himself as another contraction hits hard. That was definitely much faster than the previous gaps, which only meant one thing.
"Take it easy," Derek tries to calm him. Stiles growls at him, batting his hand away. Derek nods, accepting his apparent need for space and withdraws his hand
"It hurts," Stiles whines, snatching Derek's hand back up in his own and squeezing tight. He sounds pitiful even to his own ears
"Try to breathe slower," Derek says quietly, a worried frown marring his face. His other hand hovers over Stiles stomach before gently dropping on to the rounded swelling. Stiles expects it to feel uncomfortable and pain inducing but all that happens is the tightness and pressure recede a little. Even with Derek's administrations, it still hurts. A lot.
"You any closer to finding a solution?" Derek asks Deaton.
"I'm trying," Deaton says in a voice that says he doesn't have a clue. "I told you these things are not documented."
"I'm not sure Stiles can keep this up," Derek says. "His heart rate is increased and the baby is distressed."
"It is?" Stiles asks, gripping Derek tighter. It's the first time he's actually thought of the baby. Is he worried? Should he be worried? Rationally Stiles knows it's not the baby's fault and that he's probably being selfish but he's so struck with abject terror at the thought he's about to deliver someone else's baby.
"Stiles body should be naturally pushing now," Deaton surveys them from over to the top of another book. "Seems like something is blocking it. Or at least trying to."
"I'm not doing anything," Stiles shakes his head. "I'm not trying to hurt the baby."
"No one said you were," Derek squeezes his hand.
"Your spark is reacting," Deaton says.
"I don't want the baby to die," Kelly says. And yes, finally she sounds genuinely concerned. She tries to inch forward only to be halted by Scott.
"The baby is coming whether you want it to or not," Derek says, drawing his attention back away from Kelly's stricken one. "You're gonna have to help it."
Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head as another contraction hits. "No, find a way to reverse-reverse, Doc…"
"Stiles?" Derek asks patiently. He doesn't say anything else until Stiles opens his eyes again. "You might have to do this okay? Don't fight it. You're only gonna end up hurting yourself and the baby."
The sudden emotion that pours out of him surprises them all.
"I can't have someone else's baby. I don't want someone else's baby," Stiles cries. Yep he's gone there. His fucking surprise pregnancy hormones are making him ugly sob while clutching Derek's hand like he's life a lifeline. He was sure someone somewhere was laughing about it. "If I'm gonna have this ability then I want to be at least twenty-eight and have a relationship and actually be laid at some point. Not because some random stranger accidently magics their baby into my surprise uterus."
"It's okay…"
"It's not okay," Stiles wails. "I don't want to have this baby. It's not mine. If I have a baby I'm gonna have my baby. Mine." He knows he's a mess right now. A quivering, sniffling, mess. "I'm just a kid. I want to be a kid again. It hurts, Derek. And I want my dad…"
Kelly guffaws again. Stiles recognises it for being awkward and uncomfortable and not knowing how to react other than laugh. He's done it countless times before. Usually in socially unacceptable moments.
Derek, though, reacts angrily.
"He's having your goddamned baby!" Derek snaps at her. "Show some respect."
She clamps her mouth shut and shies away behind Scott, mumbling something under her breath.
"She did that earlier too," Stiles mutters.
"Sorry? What?" Deaton suddenly asks.
"She said something like that before," Stiles says again. "Latin I think?"
Deaton drops the book and quickly makes his way over to Kelly
"What did you say?"
She startles but repeats what Stiles remembers.
"What?" Scott asks eagerly. "What did she say?"
"Loosely translates to 'Take it out'," Deaton tells them.
"So what now?" Stiles pants, wiping at his face and curiously looking up at him.
"Now we reverse reverse," Deaton says, with a grin. He gestures for Kelly to come closer. She does, eyeing Derek wearily, who still hasn't left Stiles side. "Easy, big guy…" Stiles murmurs at him. "So I have to say it instead?"
"Reverse Reverse," Kelly points out. "You have to say the opposite, right?" she glances at Deaton for confirmation who nods.
"So I have to say something like 'take it back'?" Stiles asks with a scoff.
"Give it a try," Deaton says with a shrug.
It takes a few tries, Stiles has to be coaxed to willingly hand over his arm for Kelly to puncture with her claws and when she finally does he ends up burying his face into Derek's shoulder when he tries to brace his flailing body. Stiles words are muffled into Derek's shirt and his pronunciation sucks. Deaton coaches him a few times until he gets the words right.
It's not as violent as before. No one gets flung across the room. One second Stiles has a baby bump and the next he doesn't. There's no reversing of time either. Kelly immediately doubles over and has the biggest contraction Stiles has ever seen. He barely has time to register the change before he's literally scooped off the table bridal style to enable Scott to lift Kelly on to it.
"Lemme down," Stiles harrumphs at Derek, swatting at him. Derek does and Stiles immediately goes back to the table on wavering legs. He stops short of actually touching her. Just in case.
"What?" She frowns suspiciously at him, eyes already wet with tears and pain.
"I figure you need the support," Stiles offers lamely.
"Thought you might hate me after all…" she waves between them. "That?"
"I had Derek and Scott," Stiles says with a shrug. "You don't have anyone and I guess I know how it is to feel like that."
She quirks a surprised eyebrow at him
"I mean I know how it is to feel scared. To worry you'll be alone. Anxiety sucks, right?" Stiles says. There must be something on his face that she can relate to because she nods uncertainly. "Especially when you don't know what's going to happen."
"Yeah," she breathes out, testing the words, bearing down on the pain.
"And I didn't want you to feel alone during this." He leans down. "I'll warn you now, Sweetheart…" he stage whispers with a wink. "It only gets worse from here."
She snorts in amusement despite the pain.
She gives birth to a little girl
7 pounds and 8 ounces.
She lets Stiles hold her first.
She grabs his little pinkie and tugs as though she knows.
Stiles has all kind of emotions running though his body – most probably the residue of post pregnancy hormones.
"Hey there," he murmurs down at the little bundle in his arms.
He knows that he wants this – not now – but sometime in the future. A little creation like this, something he helped create and carry and bring into this world. That's a connection you could – should – never break.
"What's your name?" Kelly asks.
Stiles quirks an eyebrow at her. "Why? You want to name her after me or something?"
She nods and Stiles laughs, shaking his head.
"You want to name her Stiles?"
"Your real name, dumbass," she says, rolling her eyes.
"I can't even pronounce my own name," Stiles scoffs. "Please don't inflict that horror on her."
"Choose a name then," Kelly says with a shrug. "You nearly gave birth to her, so I figured you get a say too."
"Shouldn't you discuss that with your boyfriend?"
Yeah, Stiles put his foot down at calling him 'your alpha' over and over. It made Kelly sound like she belonged to someone instead of being in a relationship.
"He's on his way. Scott's calling him for me. Choose a name already."
"My mom's name was Claudia?" he offers, shakily.
"Was? Is she dead?" Kelly asks.
He nods. "Seven years ago."
"Sorry," Kelly squeezes his hand.
Stiles offers the baby back, feeling shakier than before, body waning.
"Claudia," she says, looking down at the little girl in her arms. "I like that."
Stiles smiles at them, feeling a little proud.
When his legs start to get shakier he lets Derek lead him to the bench outside the room and watches Kelly handle her baby, seeing the bond blossom between a mother and her newborn.
Stiles sits hunched on the bench. His stomach is killing him. Deaton brings him a hot water bottle and tells him his stomach muscles are stretched and need to retract.
He feels like an idiot (and sick to his stomach) clutching the soothing bottle to his abused abdomen while he survey's the room in front of him.
Kelly's 'alpha' finally arrived.
His name is Geoffrey with a 'G'. Stiles thinks he's yet to meet an alpha, besides Scott, who doesn't have a preppy name.
The guy seems decent enough and completely mortified that Kelly had felt so alone. A couple of betas tail him, looking shame-faced.
Derek ends up holding the baby (which Stiles snorts at) while Kelly and Geoffrey move to the side of the room to have a 'private conversation' although with the majority of the occupants of the room werewolves it was hardly private, apart from Stiles and Deaton's ears.
Derek is surprisingly gentle. Stiles watches him as he coos at the baby. He floats around the room and shows her every small nonsensical detail. Stiles sees him tracing the baby's small hand, counting her little fingers in his palm.
Stiles is struck with the thought of how good of a dad Derek would be. He knows, intrinsically, that Derek, who lost everything and everyone, would make sure his children would have everything and lose nothing.
It warms his heart to imagine it and he blinks his eyes at the sudden sting to them.
"Hey," Derek greets him when he's finally handed baby Claudia back to her parents.
"You'd make an awesome dad," Stiles blurts at him.
"Okaaay," Derek says bemused. He drops to the bench next to him, bumping his shoulder gently. "So would you."
"I want what Kelly has," Stiles admits.
Derek raises his eyebrows.
"Not right now," he elaborates. "But sometime in the future. I want to be that happy. I want to be able to make a baby and carry it and be happy."
He feels his eyes water again and he quickly swipes them away.
"Damn post pregnancy hormones," he says, chuckling.
"Hey," Derek says softly. His hand grasps the back of Stiles neck and squeezes. "Whatever your body is or isn't capable of doing, we'll figure it out, okay?"
Stiles nods and grins at him.
"You're a big softie, SourWolf. Who knew?" Stiles winces as his stomach gripes at him.
"Still in pain?" Derek asks, squeezing his neck with more pressure.
"Yeah," Stiles nods. "Stomach feels like shit."
"Can't be worse than giving birth though?" Derek chuckles next to him.
"Laugh it up all you want," Stiles huffs at him. "But I could be having some serious side effects."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Maybe the baby wolfed out and shredded my fake uterus and now I'm slowly bleeding to death."
Derek snorts in amusement.
"The kid won't be able to shift until it's older. Try again."
"Oh my god!" Stiles suddenly says, paling at the thought. "Did Kelly have an after birth? Did she leave her placenta in me?" He flails his arms at Derek, shoving him. "Go check."
"I'm not going to check that," Derek says, wrinkling his nose.
"It might be stuck inside me," Stiles whines. "Festering in me…"
"Oh god," Scott head pops out of the door, startling him. He looks equally as disturbed as Stiles feels. "Please stop. She had the after-birth, okay? I saw it."
"You did?" Stiles now knows why Scott looks so icked out. "Sorry, dude. That must have sucked for you."
Scott waves the sentiment off. "Not as much as what I think their pack are going to do with it," Scott whispers and Stiles wants to point out that no amount whispering would stop hushed conversations reaching werewolf ears. "They're taking it with them."
"I think I'm gonna puke," Stiles mutters and much to his disdain he finds Derek snorting at their discomfort.
"You're fine," Derek says when he finally stops. "Your stomach just needs to settle back down. Deaton's setting up the ultrasound just to make sure and Melissa is coming to double check it."
Kelly and Geoffrey with a 'G' are in the middle of saying their goodbyes when Melissa and his dad arrive.
Stiles accepts the handshake from Geoffrey when he's sure that the man isn't going to kill him for accidently hijacking his girl's pregnancy. He promises that the incident will remained hushed and Stiles 'ability' would remain between their packs only.
"Thanks for your help," Kelly draws Stiles into a half-hug. "Say goodbye to Stiles," she whispers to the baby.
Stiles draws her little pudgy hand up and blows a small raspberry into her curled fingers. She squawks, somewhere between a giggle and trapped gas.
"Bye Claudia," Stiles breathes into her (thankfully freshly cleaned) head.
"Claudia?" his dad asks in surprise when the other pack have left.
"It's a long story," Stiles mumbles. He's tired and just wants to crawl into a ball right there at his dad's feet, but despite this, it doesn't actually stop him from flinging his arms around him. "Love ya," he sleepily rumbles into his chest.
"Love you too, kid…" Stiles hears his dad reply. His dad lifts his head, scrutinizing him, stealthily sneaking a palm across his forehead. Stiles really must look like shit. "I don't think I've ever heard a short story from you," he says, hooking an arm around Stiles shoulders. "But it's good thing I'm your dad because I'll always want to listen."
A/N2: I have no knowledge of labor or giving birth. Deaton and I blame any discrepencies on Stiles emerging Spark. And FYI, eating the placenta is supposed to be really healthy for ya...