CHAPTER 21

The following few months were gruelling for Stiles. Scott, Kira, Lydia and Malia all moved to San Francisco for college, so they were nearby. They visited her regularly and told her about college life. She felt a twinge of envy, but was kind of glad she couldn't go to college. Her days were spent lying in bed, watching television or reading a book. Scott eventually set up an Xbox for her so she had something else to do. After four weeks, the doctor confirmed that her ankle wasn't going to be amputated. She was moved to a private care facility just outside the city, to a spot where she had a beautiful view of pine forest outside her window. The Sheriff had to return to Beacon Hills, he only had so many holidays he could use up. It was better when she was in private care. She had her own room and a large flat screen and all the food she wanted.

Derek never left her side. He ate with her, slept next to her, made sure she had everything she needed. She was still furious with him, but gradually, she accepted his help. Though her legs were healing, she was also getting bigger and her stomach was making her uncomfortable. She had to frequently use the bathroom, which was a hassle because she couldn't go by herself, but Derek was always there. She got intense food cravings and he always got her whatever she wanted. She was eventually allowed to use a wheelchair, and he took her outside for fresh air and sunshine. After fourteen weeks of being bedridden, and in her thirty-fourth week of pregnancy, Stiles's casts were removed and she began the hardest part of her recovery: rehab.

Trying to walk again was hard enough, but doing it heavily pregnant was excruciating, yet Stiles was determined to be on her own two feet before the baby arrived, which was only six weeks away. She had two hours of physical therapy every day. Derek was always there, helping her out. It was frustrating for Stiles, not being able to walk, to have her legs fail every time she put her feet on the ground. It was three weeks before she was able to walk with the help of crutches, and even then she was falling a lot. After physical therapy one evening, Derek helped her climb into bed when he noticed she was crying.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Are you hurt?"

She sniffled and wiped a tear away from her cheek.

"No. I'm not fine," she cried.

"What's wrong?"

Stiles began to sob and her words were almost incomprehensible.

"I can't do this," she said. "I don't know why I thought I could."

"But you're doing so well," Derek reassured her. "You'll be on your feet in no time."

"I don't mean that. I mean being a mother – having this baby. I can't do it."

He rubbed her forehead, which was covered with sweat from the therapy session.

"You'll be a great Mom, Stiles," he told her. "If anyone can do it, you can."

She stopped crying for a moment and turned to face him.

"I don't know if I want to. I want to have this baby…but I don't want to be a mother."

Derek leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. Stiles rubbed her rounded stomach gently.

"I think I want to speak to a social worker about adoption," she said.

"No way, Stiles," Derek protested. "I understand where you're coming from, but it's too dangerous to give her to an unknowing family. They won't know how to take care of her when she becomes a werewolf."

"What am I supposed to do?" Stiles cried again.

"I'll take her," Derek said. Stiles half-laughed.

"You? Yeah right."

Derek shrugged. "She's my daughter."

"No offence, you're not exactly father material. I appreciate you helping me out the past few months, but it ends there."

"She's my daughter too, Stiles, I you can't make all the decisions. If you give her up, I'll just file for custody, and they'll give her to me because she's mine."

"You'd be willing to admit that everyone?" Stiles asked. "That you were the father of this baby? You'd say it to Scott…to my Dad?"

"Of course I would."

Stiles hadn't been expecting that answer.

"Yeah, well, I don't want them to know."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm ashamed! If my Dad finds out that his granddaughter is going to be a werewolf…it'll destroy him. All he's wanted for me is to get away from that life."

"Then give her to me," Derek repeats.

"NO," Stiles snaps. "I'm giving her up."

"Then what? Just let her turn into a werewolf when she's a teenager? She could hurt someone. She'll be terrified. Or were you planning on finding her and saying 'hi, I'm your Mom. Oh by the way, you're a werewolf'?"

"Maybe."

"Stiles, we have to take of this. It's our responsibility."

"I should've just had an abortion," she cries. "I was in way over my head to believe I could handle this."

Derek got up from his chair and sat beside her on the bed, cradling her in his arms as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"We don't have to decide this now, we still have time," he said.

"We only have three weeks!" she cried.

Derek continued to hold her, gently stroking her hair until she drifted off to sleep. He sat beside her, watching her face as she dreamed. He was not going to let his daughter be given away. He couldn't stand the thought of someone else holding her, of her calling another man her father. He wanted her. He already felt such a strong connection to her that he could barely leave Stiles' side without worrying about her. He cared for Stiles, but he was prepared to do anything it took to keep his daughter, even if it meant going against what Stiles wanted. He knew he needed to start preparing for his girl's arrival.