A golden retriever is a good dog. It is loyal and tends to bring people newspapers and whatnot. At least, that is what he learned from tv and movies. Stiles lowered himself onto the ground next to the dog kennel. A chihuahua is the worst dog, he thought as he placed a hand on the gate. His fingers grasped the front of the kennel.
Inside the kennel, a small beagle with beautiful brown eyes stared back at him. The dog whined at the boy and huddled in the corner. Stiles smiled at the poor animal before opening the cage. The puppy lowered her eyes and put her chin on her paws.
Stiles reached carefully in and curled his fingers towards the puppy. "Come on. I know I smell like a werewolf.. I love one but I promise that I'm just some lowly human. No super powers. Plus I have food." He shook the tiny food bowl with his other hand.
The puppy's ears perked up and she slowly moved her nose closer to Stiles' hand. A soft lick to the hand and then Stiles had a lapful of dog. He laughed as he ran his hand through the fur. The puppy looked like she had seen better days. She definitely needed to put on some weight. Stiles lifted up the bowl of food towards her and smiled as the puppy dug into the food.
"Let's see what your name is," Stiles said as he pulled the small information card down from the pocket of the kennel. "No name." Stiles' heart broke as he looked down at the puppy. "Let's see what we do know about you. You are a beagle mix and a female. No other information other than you are about a year old."
Stiles tried to think of where he was a year ago. A year ago his friends were almost murdered by the alpha pack. He was finally in remission. It didn't matter anymore. Lydia and Deaton were in the other room going over several books. Apparently Stiles had some kind of dormant magic within him that may help to slow the progression of the cancer. If he could access this magical part of his body or is it his spirit? He would be able to slow the cancer enough for chemo and radiation to have some kind of effect. Not a full cure, but it was something. It was something alright.
Another false solution. Just a waste of time. Every day for a week, Stiles came to the vet's office and helped the two of them to search for a cure. He would walk in and search through book after book. Lydia would have him read through something or Deaton would test Stiles with some kind of plant or liquid. Derek joined them after the second day and made sure Stiles was eating regularly and taking his pills. He would rub Stiles' back when it ached and force him to give his eyes a break from the small print.
Neither of them spoke about the incident in the mall. No kissing, no sexytimes. Just reading. Sometimes they would cuddle. However, each time he came up with a possible solution, magical or otherwise, Deaton or Derek would shoot it down. Today's biggest success? The fact that the mountain ash worked so well for Stiles meant the spark may open up the opportunity for Stiles to access some kind of healing magic. Deaton thought it may be from his ancestors. A load of good it helped his mom when she was sick.
It sounded like a load of crap, if you asked Stiles. He would have to go into some sort of trance and catch a light as if he were catching lightning bugs only in his mind. It made no sense. It was a stupid plan and would never work. So, of course, Stiles tried it three times by now. The failures kept Stiles from being optimistic. With a huff and a punch to the nearest wall, Stiles grabbed the food Scott was about to feed the puppy before coming into here.
The dog needed a name. She needed a strong name. Beagles were known for hunting weren't they? With the life that Stiles led, he could use a loyal dog, well, other than Derek. He stroked the top of the puppy's head and ran his fingers over the ears. "You need a name. I can't call you puppy or anything like that."
He looked at the dog carefully. She was white with some brown and black patches. Her eyes were an incredible, deep brown. She reminded him a bit of his dad. Maybe he could adopt this puppy and then he could focus his energy on taking care of her instead of finding a cure that is nowhere to be found. All the people who have cancer in the world who may have magic have never shared their knowledge of curing someone yet. Maybe there was no cure.
Stiles leaned his head back against the kennel and tried to think of cute names. The puppy was adorable. After finishing her food, she began to lick Stiles' neck. He chuckled at the sensation before pushing her back a bit. He held her puppy face in his large hands and smiled. It felt like forever since he had genuinely smiled. "Chief Barksalot?"
The dog's head tilted in confusion.
"Captain Ahab?"
The dog gave Stiles a dirty look. He laughed. "Ok, that is definitely a no. How about Deputy Dawg?"
The dog gave a small bark and kissed him again. "Deputy Dawg it is. Derek's going to love that," Stiles whispered as he kissed the puppy on the forehead. He stood and picked up the puppy. "Let's go see what everyone is doing?"
As he left the back kennel, he saw Derek hunched over on the couch. His elbows were on his knees and his face in his hands. The once perfect hair was out of place from running his hands through it constantly. The werewolf did not pick up on the boy's presence nor that of the puppy. Stiles slowly walked over to the werewolf and sat down next to him.
The puppy leaned away from the werewolf and huddled in the boy's arms. Stiles kissed her on the forehead again and ran a soothing hand down her back. Stiles swayed his body towards the werewolf's shoulder. "Hey," he whispered.
Derek lifted his head and wasn't quick enough to hide the wetness on his cheeks. "Hey," Derek whispered back as he gave his full attention to the boy. "Who is this?"
Stiles smiled brightly and tried to bring the puppy closer to Derek. "This is Deputy Dawg."
"Deputy Dawg?" Derek laughed as he reached cautiously over towards the puppy. The puppy waited for Stiles to signal if it was okay before she sniffed the werewolf's hand.
"This is my werewolf named Derek," Stiles introduced the two. "She didn't have a name and I thought she reminded me of my dad," the boy started. He pressed his face against the puppy's face and smirked at the werewolf. "I think our eyes are very similar too."
"What should we call her for short?" Derek questioned as he ran a hand gently down the puppy's face and pat her on the back.
"Hmm, well we can call her DD," Stiles suggested.
"You want to call her DD for Deputy Dawg? She needs a real name."
Stiles pretended to think it over. He lifted the dog and stared deeply into her eyes. "What is your name?"
Derek chuckled as the dog tilted her head at the boy.
"Ok, Derek, ask her in your doggie way," Stiles said as he turned the puppy towards the werewolf.
"Doggie way? I feel I should be insulted by that."
"Only if you want to be," Stiles shrugged. He gestured towards the dog once more.
"Ok, what shall we call you?" Derek whispered as he leaned close towards the dog. He flashed his red eyes at the dog momentarily before pulling away. "I always wanted a dog," he muttered before shaking his head. "DD is going to have to work. Did you adopt her from Deaton or are we dog-napping as part of your list?"
Stiles chuckled. His heart felt happy as he placed the dog in his lap. For a split second, he realized this may be the closest thing to a child he may ever have. He ignored that thought and filed it away under the Never Ever Mention pile.
He felt his werewolf place an arm around his shoulders, so Stiles snuggled into Derek's chest. "She is an amazing dog so far."
"You do realize that I am not taking care of your dog for you," Derek stated matter-of-factly. Stiles remained silent as Derek began to list off the things Stiles would have to do each day to care for the dog. Strangely, he felt like he already did those things for his dad up until a month ago when he received the news. He was a junior in high school and dealing with so much already.
There was really no point to adopting a dog if you only have a few months to live. His eighteenth birthday was in a couple of months, but he still had another year before graduation. Not to mention he also had his impending death to deal with as well. Stiles rolled his eyes and chose to not care too much for the situation. The dog needed someone. His dad would need someone after he dies.
Deputy Dawg would be perfect for his dad. He could tell already. She was sweet and even cuddled well. He didn't have to think about his dad laying in bed night after night crying as his last family member lay buried in the cemetery. He would not have to think about no one for his dad to wake up to.
His dad would wallow in his grief and never fully recover. Sure Stiles and the Sheriff's friends and coworkers would check on him from time to time, but his dad would eventually fade away. Or worse, his dad would put everything into the job, the only thing he would have left. He wouldn't watch his diet or exercise regularly. Stiles' room would remain exactly as the day Stiles dies. The dust would gather but the door to the room would never be opened again. Stiles' dad would barricade it and force everyone to stay away. He would have clothes piling up in the laundry room and dirty dishes covering the sink and cabinet.
Scott's mom would probably stop by every now and then to clean up after the sheriff before she eventually stops. The pain would be too much. Scott would probably move on. Alison and he will go to college. Stiles' grave will probably be right next to his mom's.
The sheriff may try to take out his grief on whoever crossed the line in town until he eventually loses his badge, or worse, dies on the job. Stiles would never forgive himself if his father went down that deep, dark path.
He felt the puppy lick his face, pulling him from his sad thoughts. Stiles hugged the puppy tightly as Derek ran a soothing hand up and down his arm.
Deputy Dawg was already doing what he needed her to do for his dad. She can sense his utter despair and pulled him out of his thoughts. She would be an amazing dog for his dad.
"What exactly are you doing with my dog?"