Hey guys. First let me say thank you so, so, so, so much for the reviews and alerts last chapter. I'm glad you guys are liking this so far, and here's hoping you stick with it until the end.

So, thanks for reading, drop me a comment if you can, and I still don't own anybody recognizable.

See ya

"Sorry about this," Isaac said as he led Derek down the stairs of the McCalls' basement. "Scott and Danny were supposed to help me, but Scott had to work and Danny's visiting his aunt."

"Just tell me what you need me to do," Derek stated letting his eyes flick up the steps, towards the open door. As long as that door stayed open, he'd be fine. It was a bit stupid, really, to feel this anxious in a basement, but, since the fire, he couldn't help it.

"We just need to get these boxes," Isaac pointed at a few dozen boxes scattered across the floor, "on those shelves." He then pointed at a couple shelves, built into the wall. "I made them for Mrs. McCall as a sort of thank you for letting me stay here." Isaac's face flushed slightly and he averted his eyes from Derek. "She didn't have to, and I know she can't really afford two kids, and I do give her half my pay check from the grocery store, even though she told me I didn't…"

"Hey," Derek said softly, catching Isaac's eyes, "she did this because she wanted to, and I swear sometimes I think she loves you more than Scott." Isaac gave Derek a small smile before turning to the junk littering the floor.

The two werewolves began the slow process of moving boxes. It wasn't hard work, not with their supernatural strength, but it was tedious, and it didn't help that Derek's eyes kept glancing at the open door, making sure it stayed open.

They were three-fourths of the way through the boxes when Derek's phone rang. He put down the box he was holding, wiped his face with his t-shirt, it was practically stifling in Scott's basement, and pulled his cell from his pocket.

"Stiles, I've only been gone thirty…"

"Derek, I need help," Stiles interrupted in a slightly panicked voice over the sounds of a baby crying in the background.

"It's just a doll, Stiles," the Alpha said slowly, trying to keep a chuckle at bay.

"No, no it's not," Stiles replied quickly. "I made a mistake, the thing is real, I don't know what to do, and I can't very well give it anything solid because it doesn't have teeth and…"

"Wait, what do you mean it's real?"

"…and I tried the key thing. You know the key thing. You jingling keys in the kid's face and it's supposed to see the shiny thing and go 'oh, look, keys. I should pay attention to those.' But it just keeps crying. Then I actually tried to pick it up, you know babies enjoy that sort of crap, but I swear the moment I touched it, it started screaming at me like I was murdering…" Stiles trailed off, taking a deep breath. "You need to help me right now."

Derek was still trying to wrap his head around the whole 'Gadget the doll suddenly being real' thing, but he agreed to help Stiles anyway. Recently, it had started to become increasingly harder to say 'no' to the younger boy, especially when he was bordering on a panic attack, and Derek was soon turning to Isaac and saying, "Are you okay on your own?"

"Yeah, why?" The younger boy had, in fact, heard the conversation, but he was just as clueless as Derek.

"Uh, I'm not sure," Derek responded stashing his phone in his pocket. He rushed up the stairs, snatching his jacket off the back of a kitchen chair, and headed out the door.

He made it to Stiles' place in a matter of minutes, jumped out of his car, and ran towards the front door. Without bothering to knock, he threw the door open and rushed inside, skidding to a halt when he noticed a very harried looking Stiles bouncing a very real baby, muttering curse words under his breath, trying to get it to stop crying.

The baby looked about five months old with dark hair and pale skin. His face was red from crying, scrunched up, and it seemed to be taking all of Stiles' power not to drop him with how badly he was squirming.

"Oh my God, you're here," Stiles exclaimed the moment he saw Derek. He crossed the room in a second, depositing the baby in the Alpha's arms. "Make it stop."

"What did you do?" Derek fumbled with the baby, trying to keep it from falling out of his arms.

"I don't know," Stiles admitted, furiously pacing back and forth. "I was trying to put a spell on him, to silence him, and this," he gestured to the baby, "happened."

"What did Deaton say about doing random magic?" Derek managed to get the baby in a semi-cradled position, his arms absentmindedly bouncing his body.

"Stow the lecture, Derek," Stiles snapped running a hand through his hair. "I just need three…" he trailed off as the baby quieted down, resting its head on Derek's shoulder. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

"What?"

"That." Stiles gestured to the baby, scowling at the look of content on his face. "Seriously, I've been trying that for the past two hours, as a doll and as a real boy, and I couldn't get it to do that. How did you…?" He raised his hands. "You know what, I don't even care. It stopped crying and that's all I care about."

"Okay, explain to me what happened," Derek stated following Stiles into the living room. The younger boy sat down on his couch, burying his face in his hand.

"Like I said, I wanted Gadget to shut the hell up, so I figured a spell might do the trick. I guess I messed up some of the words or something because he's…" he trailed off, peeking out from between his fingers, nodding at the baby. "We need to get him to Deaton, see what he has to say, maybe figure out how to change him back because I could give a shit less about the class, but I don't feel like paying three hundred dollars for a new doll if we can't."

"Maybe we should get him something to eat first," Derek suggested glancing down at the baby. His eyes met Derek's, a pair of light brown eyes that matched Stiles' eyes. "Did you at least try feeding him?"

"With what? My dad's secret stash of Funyuns he doesn't think I know about?"

"It's called the grocery store," Derek pointed out slowly, already heading towards the door. "Come on, maybe we can find matching pacifiers for you and the kid."

"Oh, hardy freaking har," Stiles retorted following him. "May I suggest you take your one man show on the road?" He continued sardonically, closing and locking the door behind him.

TW

The grocery store was crowded, but Gadget seemed to enjoy all the chaos. He let his bright, brown eyes take in all the sounds and colors, his tiny hands clapping together every so often. Several times, he reached for Derek from the cart, completely ignoring Stiles. Apparently, his illegitimate, fake, turned real baby hated him.

"I don't see why he hates me," he complained to Derek as they walked up and down the aisle. "I mean, I gave him a name, and the four hours I've had him I've taken semi-good care of him."

"You named him Gadget, turned him into a real baby, and swore at him," Derek pointed out as he put a thing of baby formula in the cart. "I'm not surprised he hates you."

"You're not supposed to agree with me," Stiles grumbled crossing his arms. "You're supposed to say I'm being an idiot, and he doesn't really hate me."

"Why would I lie to you?" Derek retorted with a grin on his face. Stiles merely glared at him, but otherwise didn't say anything else. "Look, there's no need to stress out about this. I'm sure Deaton will change him back in no time, and you can forget your screw up. He'll go back to being a doll, you'll go back to not caring, and by Monday morning you'll have forgotten him at my apartment."

"I'm not going to forget him," Stiles hissed grabbing a baby bottle at random. "I will be a very good parent to Pinocchio."

"Oh, so you've changed his name?"

"No, but that's what he is…" the younger boy trailed off, smacking himself in the forehead. "Oh my God, that makes me his blue fairy. This is just great. What does that make you; Geppetto?"

Derek merely rolled his eyes, tossing a two pack of pacifiers into the cart. He then topped off his purchases with some diapers and wipes before pushing the cart towards checkout.

As they stood in line, Gadget's eyes filled with tears and he started screaming. Stiles gestured to Derek to pick him up, muttering, "Since you're his favorite."

Derek tried picking Gadget up, tried bouncing him, but this time he didn't seem to want to stop, and he'd have to be blind to miss the triumphant look on Stiles' face. With on, last ditch effort, the Alpha popped open the pacifiers, pulled one out, and popped it into the screaming baby's mouth. He ignored the look the cashier threw him, figuring if he was going to pay for the damn things he was going to use them, and he breathed a sigh when the baby calmed down.

"Now you're just showing off," Stiles grumbled as he began piling their stuff onto the checkout counter. Stupid baby and stupid Alpha being good with the stupid baby; how is that even possible? Derek rarely spent time with people, what made him so good with babies? Was it the scruff? Maybe Stiles should grow some scruff.

Once they had been rung up, and Derek paid, Stiles was delegated the task of carrying their purchases while Derek held their illegitimate, fake, turned real baby that happened to hate Stiles despite what Derek said.

"Stop sulking," Derek stated as he got into Stiles' jeep.

"I'm not sulking," Stiles replied unconvincingly, tossing their shopping bags in the backseat, getting into the drive seat. "I don't even care anymore."

"Okay," Derek answered skeptically. "I'll take your word for it."

"Good because I don't." And he didn't. It was just a stupid doll that so happened to be real at that moment. So what if it, he, liked Derek better; why should Stiles care? It's not like he was their real child. He was a school project. Nothing more.

It didn't stop him from muttering, "Stupid baby," as he started his jeep. He then put it in drive and sped out of the parking lot.

TW

"Explain to me again, how you managed to turn your school project into a real baby," Deaton said slowly, eyeing Stiles incredulously. Derek held a smile at bay, too busy heating up a bottle on the vet's stove.

"I said a spell and now he's…" he gestured to the baby in Derek's arms. "Can you fix him?"

"What did I tell you about doing random magic?"

"Oh my God, seriously, can we save the speech for later?"

Deaton sighed, glancing back at Gadget. "What spell did you use?"

"I don't know. I think it had an 'e' in it."

With another sigh, the vet ran his hands down his face. He then looked at Stiles again and asked, "If I show you some spells do you think you can recognize it?"

"We can give it a shot," the younger boy replied and followed the vet out of the kitchen and towards his study. Derek stayed behind, pulling the baby bottle from the sauce pan. He recalled how his aunt used to check his cousin's bottle, dabbing a little on his wrist to gauge the temperature, before replacing Gadget's pacifier with the bottle.

"You know, buddy, you're driving Stiles crazy," he stated as he slowly paced back and forth, holding the bottle in a loose grip. "He thinks you hate him, which might be true, but maybe you should ease up a bit. He didn't mean to make you real."

Gadget's eyes slowly closed, Derek wondered if he had heard him or not, and if he had was he going to take the Alpha's advice. He may be an infant, but he was also a baby made from magic. Who knew just how intelligent he really was; just what he could understand. He also seemed to take after Stiles in eye color and hair, which really intrigued Derek.

By the time Stiles and Deaton returned, Gadget was fed, changed, and asleep in Derek's arms, his red pacifier in his mouth. The older boy gave the two an expectant look, and Stiles quietly said, "It has to wear off."

"How long will he be like this?" Derek asked curiously.

"Probably a week, maybe longer," Deaton replied slowly, leaning against his counter. "This is why I said…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Stiles interrupted, waving his hand. "I'm sorry I blue faired all over the doll. Next time I'll just let it malfunction."

"You said it wouldn't stop crying," Derek pointed out quietly.

"Semantics."

"Look, just keep an eye on him, and if anything strange happens…"

"Like a school project turning real," Stiles and Derek mumbled together.

"…just call me," Deaton continued as if neither said a word. He then showed them out.

On the ride back to Stiles' place, neither boy said a word to each other. Stiles was too busy muttering under his breath about stupid decisions and life hating him while Derek gently rocked Gadget. Before the fire, he had actually been pretty good with babies. His mother said he got it from his grandmother, and Laura had called him a girl for it, but he didn't care. It wouldn't hurt to dust off those old skills, even if it was only for a week. He had been getting better since the fire, since Stiles; maybe this would be another step on his way to recovering. It was worth a shot.

"Oh great, my dad's home," Stiles grumbled putting his car into park. "Let's see how well he takes me doing magic again." Derek recalled the last time Stiles did magic in his house. He had set the curtains on fire, and it had taken some quick thinking on Lydia's part to stop the flames from taking out the entire wall. Gadget should count himself lucky he had just become real.

The two boys walked inside, Stiles carrying Gadget's stuff while Derek carried Gadget, both stopping in the doorway. Sheriff Stilinski glanced over the back of the couch at them and called, "Hey boys, you two okay if I order…" he trailed off, his eyes settling on the baby. "Why do you two have a baby?"

He stood up, maneuvering around the couch to cross the room, stopping within three feet of them. He eyed Gadget warily and pleaded, "Please tell me you didn't steal him."

"Dad, why would we steal him?" Stiles moved past his father, heading into the kitchen. The older man quickly followed his son, Derek right on his heels.

"I don't know. It's just…" he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "I've been having this reoccurring dream where you steal a baby from the zoo."

"Why are you dreaming about a zoo full of babies?" Stiles gave his dad a questioning look, leaning against the counter.

"It's not…" he sighed, running a palm down his face. "You steal this baby, bring it home, and tell me that you and Derek are going to raise it. Then it turns into cheese."

"Dad, I sometimes worry about you."

"It's not funny, Stiles. Where did you get that baby?"

"Remember how you told me not to do magic in the house again?" Stiles asked carefully, his father nodded. "Well, I did magic in the house again," the younger boy continued, turning his back on his dad, busying himself with unloading Gadget's stuff.

"What?" the sheriff sagged against the fridge. "How did…? What did…? What?"

"Use your words, father," Stiles said with a barely concealed smile. He wiped it off his face when his father glared. "Okay," he started sighing, "you know how I took that parenting class? Well, the doll wouldn't stop crying, so I kinda, sorta, did a spell."

"And you kinda, sorta turned it real?"

"Well, no kinda, sorta about it, Pop. He's real and now we're stuck with a baby until the spell wears off."

Sheriff Stilinski tipped his head back, taking a deep breath. He let it out, lowered his head to look at his son, and asked, "How do you keep ending up in situations like this?"

"I don't know, Dad. It's a gift."