Mother's Day

Stiles had been steadfast from day one. No. He didn't want it. This thing growing inside of him was foreign… an alien… not his and would never be his.

Yes, he and Derek had made the choice to have sex. They didn't use protection, and that's how Stiles ended up like this. Three months pregnant and miserable- brushing his teeth after another round of morning sickness.

"What do you want for supper?" his dad asks from the kitchen.

"Nothing," Stiles mumbles as he shuffles back into his bedroom where he has been holed up all day long.

Aggravated, the Sheriff follows him into the room. "You have to eat something, Stiles. Toast. Crackers. Maybe a little soup."

"I said I don't want anything!" Stiles flops down on the bed. "Geeze, Dad. What don't you understand? I don't want anything."

The Sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. He needs to stay calm. He doesn't want to yell at his kid again. "What can we do to help you, Stiles? I'm here to help you. Derek is here to help you."

"Derek can go and screw himself."

"Stiles."

"And you… you can rip this… this… THING out of me and get rid of it. Or, you can just shoot me. Literally, like just put the gun to me and pull. I've been in the same position far too many times to survive again."

"Stiles!" the father explodes. "How can you say such a thing?!"

"I feel like I'm in hell, Dad. Every day of my life sucks! I wake up. I vomit. I brush my teeth. I vomit. I get dressed. I vomit." Stiles points to his stomach. "I'm getting fat. I can see it now. My stomach is getting bigger even though I'm not eating anything. I'm actually losing weight, but my stomach is growing. How screwed up is that? This thing is using me. It's a parasite. It's feeding and thriving off of me while I'm slowly dying."

"I don't even know what to say to you! Getting pregnant is a miracle and a blessing for any woman…"

"I'm not a woman," Stiles interrupts.

"… Let alone for you… It's amazing that you were able to conceive. Derek is so excited. He wants this baby so badly."

"Then he can have it."

"Stiles."

Stiles jumps up off the bed. "No, he can have it. I'll carry this thing until it rips out of me, but then he can have it. I want nothing to do with it. I'll gladly thrust it into his arms at birth and look away. No, wait… I don't even want to touch it. Deaton or Melissa or whoever can catch it and cut it off and they can thrust it into his harms. I don't want to touch it. I don't want to see it. I don't want to hear it cry. I don't want anything to do with it."

The Sheriff stands tall and stately. "You're sure."

"Freakin' positive. I'll cut myself and give you a blood oath. I'll shout it from the rooftops. I don't want it."

"I'll deliver the message. I've asked how I can help you, and now I know how. I'll make sure nothing messes up your plan."

"Thank you!"

But then things change. The morning sickness slowly fades away, and Stiles can finally eat again. He is feeling better overall even though at five and a half months he knows he looks like a fat cow. He feels it. Like a gentle push to the side of his stomach. And then again… a little stronger. It stops him in his tracks. He puts his plate of eggs and chicken sausage and his glass of milk down on the counter. Stiles looks down. For the first time since finding out his 'condition' he gently places a hand to his stomach. The realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning. All those gassy feelings that seemed like a blind goldfish hitting into the sides of his glass bowl… that was… his baby.

"Woah." Soft chills run down his whole body. His chest feels fluttery instead of hollow and cracked like it was before. He feels… excited!

Forgetting his breakfast he walks into the living room where his dad was sitting when Stiles woke up this morning. He has a huge, beaming smile on his face for the first time in months as he says, "I felt the baby!"

…But his dad isn't there. Through the front window, he can see the Sheriff's car backing out of the driveway. He jogs to the door and walks out on the porch before he realizes he's not covering up the bump. "DAD!"

The car screeches to a halt and Noah runs up the drive to the door. He grabs Stiles by the shoulder and shoves him back inside.

"I felt the…"

"What are you doing?!"

"What?"

"Why were you outside looking like that?!" the Sheriff shouts and waves his arms. "Do you want the whole world to know that you're pregnant? Stiles, how can you be so stupid?"

Stiles is stunned. "Excuse me?"

"Just because you hate the baby and want nothing to do with it doesn't mean you can go out and… and expose the existence of werewolves to the whole world."

"I didn't mean to. I was hurrying to… I don't hate… I wanted to tell you that I felt…"

The Sheriff's portable screeches to life and the morning radio check begins. "Dang it, Stiles. Now I'm going to be late. The officers need to be able to look up to me as an example. How can they do that when they're there before I am?" He turns and storms out the door.

Stiles watches as the car flies down the street and turns around the corner out of sight. "But, I felt the baby."

It goes on like that. Stiles getting more and more excited about the growing baby inside him, and everyone too busy to listen to him. He knows he has messed up. He loathed the thing inside him for so long that no one would ever think he would change his mind now. Stiles and the fact that he's having a baby both seem completely forgotten… or ignored. He's being ignored. He retreats into himself. Stops trying to tell anyone. He sits in his room alone and holds his belly. Talking to the little being inside of him. He makes lists of names and items he needs for a nursery even though he knows he promised to give the baby to Derek to raise on his own. He orders a few books off of Amazon… and even a little wolf onesie that he takes and reverently places in his top drawer.

He breaks a little every day.

He's due late in the third week of May, and he cherishes all the time he has with his baby. He knows that on the baby's birth day, he will have to give it up.

The last week of April he feels like he fully breaks in two.

Stiles is lying in bed because he's long into his third trimester, and he's miserable. Retaining water, aches and pains, hips so sore there there's no sitting up straight thank you very much. His dad walks by eating a piece of cake.

"Hey! That's not on your diet!"

"Special days are free days, remember?"

Stiles chuckles because this feels good. Bantering back and forth with his dad… like old times. "Since when is April 28th a special day?"

The Sheriff stops in the doorway and looks down at his plate as he forks another bite. "Derek's baby shower was today."

Stiles' heart stops. "What? He had a… he gave himself a baby shower?"

"Of course not. I, as grandfather, and Scott and Allison, as Godparents, threw it for him."

Stiles is hurt… and furious. "And you didn't think to invite me?!"

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with the baby. Why would you want to go to a baby shower? It's not even your baby."

"I'm the one carrying it! That makes it… I… I should be counted as something! A special guest or…"

"How many times are biologicals invited to events after adoption? You gave the baby to Derek, it's not yours anymore. Everyone thought you would be happy to be exempt." Noah puts down his plate on the tv stand, and Stiles can see what remains of a squirrel painted into the icing. "I took pictures. Do you want to see pictures? I have some from the party. I even have some left of the nursery."

All the strength and anger flows from Stiles. He collapses back onto his pillows. All that is left inside him is brokenness and pain. "The nursery?" Stiles doesn't even realize he asks out loud. He is lost in his own thoughts… the thoughts of what this all means.

"Yes. Derek showed us the nursery as part of the gender reveal." The Sheriff is beginning to feel hopeful that maybe this could mean his son is changing his mind about the baby. "I have pictures." He reaches into his pocket for his phone. "I'll show you the pictures."

"No. I don't want to see them." Stiles is too broken to cry. "Why would I want to see pictures of things I'm not even a part of? I don't want pictures. I don't want to hear about it. I… I said I want nothing to do with this baby and that's what you've done until now. Don't… don't change it now. I just want this to be over. I want this to be done so I can… So I can forget this ever happened."

Continuing to discuss this and truly communicate feelings could solve everything, but both men feel so broken inside that they remain quiet. So many conversations left unsaid and so many misunderstandings stand between them.

The Sheriff picks up his cake and leaves the room. Stiles turns to his side, hides his face from the world and cries.

Stiles knows his time with his child is limited, but he knows there is still some time left. Until there isn't. He wakes up to excruciating pain on May 14th. He tries to tell himself everything is okay. There's nothing wrong. He still has another week left! This isn't labor. No. This is just… OW! Labor. This is labor.

The Sheriff hears moaning and cautiously knocks on the door frame. "Stiles, everything alright?"

"Yeah," Stiles gasps. "I'm okay. Go… go back to bed." Stiles is no sooner finished with his sentence than he moans so load the Sheriff runs to him.

"Stiles, kiddo, you're in labor."

"No, I have a week left." Stiles swats his dad's hands away.

"I'm calling Deaton."

It seems to Stiles as just a few minutes that there are suddenly one hundred people crowded into his room. His dad, and Deaton, and Derek, and Melissa. Okay, there's only four, but it seems too much. This is all happening so fast. He can't even stand to look at Derek. Derek is trying to comfort and encourage him, but all he can see is the greed that must be lying beneath the surface.

Deaton pulls back the sweat soaked covers. "Let me check you, Stiles. I need to see how far you are."

"No," Stiles fights. "I have a week left. Please, I don't want to be in labor."

What the others see as fear of pain is actually desperation. Desperation to keep his baby just a little while longer.

"Stiles, you're fully dilated. With the next contraction, you need to push."

"No, this is too fast," Stiles whimpers. "I won't push. Please, no. I don't want to be in labor. I don't want to push." As he shakes his head, sweat flies from his reddened face.

Melissa steps in. "Please, Stiles. If you don't push and the baby gets stuck, it could die inside of you. You don't want it to die. I know you don't want the baby, but Derek does. Let him have it. Please, you need to push."

So, he does.

An hour and a half later Stiles feels a gush and relief. He gasps at the feeling of the baby fully coming out. He is weak, but he reaches out to push the sanitary sheet aside so he can see his baby. Within seconds, the cord is cut, the baby is in Derek's arms, and he is walking away.

"Wait!" Stiles gulps. "Where's he going?"

Melissa squeezes Stiles' hand before hurrying after Derek. "We're just following the birth plan, honey."

"What birth plan?" Stiles turns his head to his dad as he feels Deaton begin to work with the afterbirth. "Dad, what birth plan?"

"You told me what you wanted. Derek and I sat down and made a plan. We did exactly what you asked."

"No… that was seven months ago. Please, Dad."

The Sheriff sadly kisses his son on the forehead and leaves to join his grandchild.

Stiles tries to lean forward and reach out, but Deaton stops him. "Stiles, I'm still working on you. You need to relax."

"But that's my baby!" Stiles shouts. Tears spring to his eyes and he begins to sob. "Please. I want to see my baby! They're…" Stiles gasps, "they're never going to let me see my baby."

"Stiles, calm down. They told me this is what you wanted. What you asked for." Deaton tries to do his work as fast as he can. Stiles' heartrate is spiking.

"I said that when I didn't know. I didn't know what it was like to feel the baby. I didn't know what it was like to be a mother! PLEASE!" Stiles begins to thrash around and try to get off the bed.

"Melissa! I need you in here!" Melissa runs into the room in an instant. "I need you to hold him down. He's hurting himself. He's ripping himself apart down here."

Melissa holds his arms down and leans across his chest. She gets her face as close to his face as she can so he can hear her over his sobs. "Stiles, honey, you need to calm down. Baby, what's wrong?"

"I want to see my baby!" Stiles cries and sobs. Tears, snot, and spit are covering Stiles and the bed. "Please, I just want to see my baby." Stiles screams, and the call is so primal that it sends chills through everyone in the house. The Sheriff runs into the room and immediately helps to hold Stiles down.

"Stiles, I'll get the baby for you, but you have to calm down. You can't see the baby like this. You would scare it to death. Breathe for me, Stiles." Melissa puts her hands on both sides of his face as Noah holds him fully down. "Breathe for me. There we go. Keep it up. Calm yourself down. I'll give you the baby when you're calm."

Stiles gulps and continues to sob, but his body slowly relaxes. When he is finally limp, Melissa runs to Derek. Deaton is finally able to sew Stiles up. The Sheriff hesitantly lets his child go.

"It will be okay, Stiles."

"I want my baby. I want to hold it. I should have been first. I'm his mother!"

"You're right, Stiles."

"I… I felt it kick and I changed my mind, but you didn't know. You didn't let me tell you. You forgot about me. You left me behind. You…," he sobs, "you took my baby, and I wanted it, I wanted to hold it!"

"It's a boy, Stiles. You have a son."

Stiles closes his eyes as he cries. "I have a son."

The Sheriff sees Derek come into the room, but he continues to soothe his son. "Guess what, Stiles. Today is Mother's Day. You had your baby boy on Mother's Day."

"I want my baby!"

"He's right here." Stiles opens his eyes to the sound of Derek's voice. He turns to him and weakly reaches out his arms.

When his son is in his arms, his tears turn to those of pure joy. He spends several minutes just looking at him, holding him, kissing him…

"What's his name?" Stiles' weak voice asks.

Derek kneels beside the bed. "He's our son, we can choose together."

Stiles' eyes light up, and he smiles. "In my top drawer… there is a list of names. We can choose."

Derek walks over to the drawer and opens it. He sees the writing filled notebook, but he picks up the onesie instead. He goes back to Stiles. "You really have wanted this baby?"

"More than anything."

Derek nods and smiles. He leans down and kisses his mate's head. "Me too."

End.