It didn't rain, at least not that morning. It was cool and the air was damp, and a light breeze blew through the backyard that had Stiles bundling the boys into three adorable little hoodies that had wolves' ears on top, but the triplets hardly seemed to notice. They spent hours swarming over the swings and the little jungle gym beside the sand box, and wore Stiles out with games of tag he was pretty sure they were letting him win. By the time lunch rolled around he was panting and ready for a break, so sitting them down in front of an episode of Bob the Builder while he headed to the kitchen was an unexpected relief.
Lunch would be fairly easy again today - he had enough leftovers to make mini-smoothies which should go over well, and there was enough ham leftover to make grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. Once he got started on a grocery list and did some menu planning he would be able to prepare a little better, have some things ready to go that would be healthy and tasty and easy to fix. Milk and a cookie for dessert would round everything off, leaving apples and peanut butter for a snack later on in the afternoon. He'd taken Derek's lesson about werewolf metabolisms to heart and planned to keep an eye on how much the kids ate, adjusting mealtimes to make sure they were getting enough nutrition and keeping their bellies from getting too rumbly.
He didn't need three "hangry" five year olds on his hands.
"All right kiddos," he called as he finished cooking the last sandwich, "Come on in here and hop up to the table."
Angus was the first one through the wide arch of the hallway, racing across the hardwood so fast that Stiles had to drop their plates a little sooner than he'd planned, catching the toddler as his socks slipped and preventing him from a painful collision with the heavy wooden table.
"Easy there tiger," he chuckled, hefting the little boy up into his booster seat. "There you go."
"Wolf."
Stiles jumped, turned to find Sebastian staring at him with his father's grumpy brows and a confused frown on his face.
"What was that buddy?" he asked, feigning casualty.
The third triplet rarely spoke and was still uncomfortably wary around him, and he didn't want to throw the kid off if he was finally reaching out.
"Wolf," he repeated firmly, and his eyes lit up bright gold for a minute before fading back to hazel. "Not a tiger."
"You're right," he nodded firmly, biting his lip to keep from chuckling. "That was silly huh? Three little wolves. You guys will have to show me your howls some time."
Beside him Angus cheered and Benjamin, who'd managed to clamber up into his seat on his own, joined in, but Sebastian just kept watching Stiles with those big, spooked eyes and it broke his heart a little that the kids was so nervous. That didn't happen without a reason, and he wondered, not for the first time, if he shouldn't ask Derek about it. Of course, the deputy had seemed so young and frightened himself last night, so uncertain, that bringing it up so directly might not be the best decision.
Maybe he could bribe it out of Erica - she seemed susceptible to the power of blog material and baked goods…
Taking Sebastian gently under the arms, Stiles lifted him into his seat, handed out plates and little glasses.
"Ok, if you guys drink up all your smoothie and eat your lunch you can have a cookie after you're done, all right?" he cajoled, but he didn't have to worry. Angus, who'd sniffed after his dad's breakfast that morning, seemed to recognize the thick, purple-ish drink and was gulping his down happily, and as he was beginning to see as typical, his brothers followed suit.
Heading back to the stove to toast his own sandwich, Stiles kept an eye on the boys over his shoulder, Sebastian in particular. A part of him was sure that asking Erica about it would be a pretty shitty thing to do - it definitely felt like he'd be going behind Derek's back and it seemed like a huge breach of trust - but he didn't want to freak the guy out either. It wasn't a huge problem (yet), and he was already so sensitive to how his kids were doing…
Maybe he could just ask Erica if it was relevant, if he needed to know.
That would be ok, right?
That way, if it didn't matter, if it wasn't anything important and he was just obsessing over nothing, he won't have brought it up to deputy dad at all.
Double checking that the burners on the stove were off, he slid his sandwich onto a plate and leaned against the island counter top, pulling his phone from his pocket and spinning it on the smooth surface. The screen was black but the thing seemed to mock him as he ate, grinning at the antics of the little boys at the table. Angus' blue smoothie-mustache was adorable and he couldn't resist waking the phone up to snap a picture, the other two boys grinning in the background. Inspiration struck and he was about to open the messaging app to send the picture off to interested parties when a blast of Star Wars intro music almost made him fumble.
Huh.
Speak of the devil.
He hadn't called yesterday.
"Hale household, you've reached Stilinski," he greeted with a wide grin.
"This is your phone, moron, I know who I called," an irritated voice snapped.
"Well good afternoon to you too deputy," Stiles purred, though his mirth had cooled in the face of Derek's wrath. Dude sounded pissed, what the hell…
"What did you do?" the man hissed, his voice suddenly low and harsh and even a little nervous as the sound of a door clicking shut echoed down the line, and Stiles heart kicked up a notch, adrenaline snapping through his bloodstream. He hadn't done anything, what…
"Your dad's been glaring at me since noon," Derek snarled, paranoia edging in on his tone. "He put me in the speed trap for the rest of the week, what the hell did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" Stiles yelped, half automatic reaction and half indignation as confusion swirled through him and he mentally rewound everything he'd said to his father that morning. "What are you… ohhhhh."
"Oh! Oh what?" Derek spat as everything clicked into place. "We were getting along fine, what…"
"Man you didn't let him see the Tupperware did you?" Stiles asked, but he already knew the answer.
"Tupperware, what are you talking about?!"
"The Tupperware man," he said again, and now he was biting his lip again, trying not to burst out laughing. "Come on dude, I know you're a rookie, but that's just amateur hour right there. Ugh, now I'm gonna have to fix it, which means I'm gonna have to bring stuff for the whole station if I don't want Tara and Lapland on my case… crap."
"Swear jar!" three voices chorused.
Stiles jumped, almost dropped the phone. He'd practically forgotten that the boys were all right there, apparently straining to listen in on his phone call but unable to recognize their father's voice from the distance or the electronic interference.
"Um, is crap a swear?" he asked, and got an irritated rumble in return.
"Yes, and you just said it again."
"At this rate, you're gonna have to up my salary," Stiles muttered.
"Stiles, what…"
"Never fear deputy," he said, breezing right over the man's demands in his best super hero tone. "I'll have you back in the Sheriff's good graces by the end of the week. Now say hi to your kids!" Switching the phone to speaker, he walked over to the table and held it out on his palm. "Say hi to dad!" he encouraged.
The next minute was a cacophony of repeated Dads and a chuckling, soothing deputy on the other end, answering questions about his morning and asking about theirs. They all agreed that the morning was good and that they were having fun with Stiles - even Sebastian coughed up something that resembled a compliment after careful probing by his father. Stiles just grinned and listened to the conversation contentedly, until a low voice echoed from the other side of the phone and Derek sighed.
"I gotta go guys," he said reluctantly, and smiles instantly dropped. "Be good for Stiles, ok?"
"You're not comin' home?" Angus whimpered, and aw crap, there were those misty puppy-eyes.
Maybe this wasn't a great idea.
"I'll be home for dinner buddy," Derek soothed. "Love you guys."
"To the moon an' back," all three mumbled, and then the line went dead.
Stiles was too busy aww-ing over their goodbyes to be pissy about not getting one himself. At least he'd been able to brush off the deputy's concern about the Sheriff's fickle affections. Honestly, the man had been working with him long enough now to know better than to flaunt homemade lasagna in front of him…
Oh well.
It had been a while since he'd brought treats over to the station, and Stiles fully believed in keeping his father's employees buttered up. You never knew when you'd need to sweet-talk your way out of a parking ticket. If he did the grocery shopping this weekend - and really, with the state of the fridge he had to - he could pick up the ingredients for stealthy-healthy baked goods; raspberry oatmeal cookies, zucchini cake…
A quiet, sniffling sound drew his attention back to more impending problems and his heart went out for the little guys, it did, but it also sent a jolt of oh shit through him that got him moving again, forced him into action to head tears off at the pass.
"You guys ready for a cookie?" he asked cheerfully, grabbing yesterday's Tupperware which had been tucked neatly against the kitchen backsplash. "Everybody liked their smoothies right?"
He only got a few mumbles in return but it was enough, and three little noses tipped up and started a different kind of sniffing as he cracked the seal in the container and held it out for them to pick. Sweeping the dishes away, he stuffed his sandwich in his mouth as he poured out a swallow of milk for each of them, then went to his bag for his wallet.
Luckily he'd paid cash for his coffee that morning.
Gobbling down the rest of his lunch, he put three quarters down on the table, watched to make sure they didn't do anything silly like put them in their mouths.
"All right, one for everybody," he said, helping them down from their chairs. "Go wash your hands and then we'll put them in your jar, ok?"
They grumbled but trudged off down the hallway just the same, and a glance outside through the huge French doors made Stiles shudder. Cloud banks were coming in, thick and pale grey, and the quick perusal of the weather forecast said there would be light rains starting up in about half an hour.
Mud, hmmph.
Jerk.
After that little charade maybe the good deputy deserved to be stuck in the speed trap.
Stiles could only imagine the disaster that would be his first bath time after playing in puddles all day long.
At least there was a good two hour nap between now and then - the boys had been pretty warn out after playing outside all day, so hopefully they would go down fast and easy and give him some time to plan for what was to come.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Identical triplets wore identical frowns it seemed, ones that wouldn't be shaken even as they collected their change off the table and headed into the living room to deposit it in their swear jar with tinny little clinks. An easy, level announcement of nap time had them herded up the stairs, but their silence had Stiles bracing himself, and as he changed draped them into their daddy-scented nap shirts, the inevitable dam broke and unleashed the tears that had been building since they'd come inside for lunch.
"But dad's… not… here!" Angus wailed, and beside him Sebastian's lower lip began to wobble as tears welled silently in his eyes. "I… want… my… daddy!"
Stiles sighed and gathered the little boy up into his arms, tucked his face beneath his chin. Really there wasn't much to do in these situations but to let them cry it out the first time and soothe them as best you could, so he let the poor little guy sob and get his shirt all snotty and stroked his back in silence for a while, reaching out slowly and carefully to run his hand over Sebastian's hair. Benjamin seemed to be doing just fine - he was a rockstar! - but he got a few pats too, just to make it fair.
"You're dad will be home for dinner buddy," he reassured, holding the crying boy close. "He would never leave you guys - he loves you way too much."
For a minute he stumbled, because damn if that wasn't true. Like, way more than these boys knew, more than Stiles, a human knew. Christ, the guy had left his pack for his kids…
"Nothing will stop him from coming home to you," he murmured.
Shifting Angus to his hip, he rose to his feet, carried him to bed - oh please let it be the right one - and tucked him in.
"Dad has to be at work sometimes," he continued as he helped Benjamin up, "But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you. He's a policeman, a superhero remember? There are people out there that need his help, so he has to go to work. But he'll always come back. Sometimes he might be late, or sometimes he might be early, and some days he'll get to stay home and play with you. But today he has to be at work."
Tucking in the last little werewolf, he straightened up, glad that the crying had mostly stopped as they listened to his explanation.
"And right now," he murmured, "You guys need to take a nap. That way you can be awake when he gets home at dinner time."
"Don' wanna," Angus mumbled, but his words were already slurred and his eyes half closed.
Stiles smiled.
"How about I sing you a song?" he suggested. "It's in a different language, so you guys won't know the words, but it still sounds nice. My mamma used to sing it to me."
"Was she nice?"
Stiles heart caught in his chest as Sebastian whispered the question, his throat tight.
"Yeah," he answered quietly, moving to the window to pull the curtains closed and sit down on the window seat. "Yeah she was nice. Close your eyes now, ok?"
Swallowing, he took a second to collect himself, then reached back for memories, the words, the tune, and began to sing.
Oops, forgot to add the youtube link to the song Stiles' mama sang to him - watch?v=96ma4FWYa2M