Before they knew it, it was Friday. Stiles helped Lydia pack up a diaper bag full of Sophie's things; a change of clothes, diapers, wipes, her formula and a couple bottles. They packed the bassinet in the trunk of Stiles' Jeep, the vehicle they were taking.
At last, Stiles kissed a sleeping Sophie's cheek, brushing her bangs out of her face. Derek leaned down to press his nose onto her neck, before letting Lydia take her. Stiles felt like crying watching them drive away, but now wasn't the time.
Instead they set themselves up in the living room, the closest to the door and they waited. Paul had just said that they would arrive in the morning, without giving a specific time. As promised, Isaac, Erica, Boyd and Scott sat around the living room with them.
Not long after that, John arrived at the house, who was invited in. He sat himself in the reclining chair, a little rigid around the shoulders. It was his first time being inside the house. Stiles watched as his father took a measured look around at the place.
Isaac leaned into Stiles' shoulder until Stiles pulled him close. It wasn't until ten that Derek perked up, followed by the interest of the others. "They're coming up the drive," Derek said, going to stand at the door.
Stiles walked up behind him, "We should wait outside." Derek stiffened but nodded, and stepped out onto the front porch.
The kids gathered around them, down on the black top and around that time a blacked out crossover came around the bend, followed by a red coupe. John stepped up beside Stiles and Derek, placing a resting hand on the gun in its holster. Something about that made Stiles a little more relaxed.
The two cars parked behind Derek's Camaro and the doors to the crossover swung open. Out stepped a well-dressed man, tall and slender. He had harsh cheekbones, and vibrant blue eyes. He smiled at them as he walked up to them, flocked by three others. A woman and two men.
Stiles snuck a look at Derek's face, and didn't like what he found. Derek was stonefaced and deep down, Stiles knew what that meant. One of them had murdered Eliza.
"Derek?" The man with the blue eyes questioned and Derek stepped forward, taking the mans hand to shake.
"Paul?" Derek asked and the man nodded.
"You've been keeping Amelia safe I'm sure," Paul said and Stiles' nose wrinkled. It didn't feel right to have Sophie referred to by another name.
"She's been kept safe," Derek said shortly, "You're the one who killed Eliza and Nathaniel, can you tell me why?"
They were at a stand still as Paul's face went cold, losing all warmth that it might have held. One of the men at his back growled, though Paul held up a hand to silence him. His eyes flashed red, "Eliza ran off with Amelia still unborn in her belly, and Nathaniel was an unfortunate casualty."
"You're not her father," Derek glared.
Paul smiled, but it had a menacing connotation, "But I am her Alpha."
"I'm Sheriff Stilinski son, without a blood relation, you wouldn't qualify for custody," John said, tone bitter.
"Is that right, Sheriff?" Paul asked, smile twisting into a snarl.
Stiles felt it in his gut, that Paul wouldn't give Sophie up without a fight. He slowly reached out to take his father's arm, pulling him behind him. John was reluctant, but stood out of the way.
"We won't allow you to have her, if that's the only thing you're concerned with," Derek said as a last ditch effort to get more information from Paul.
By the look in his eye, Paul wasn't going to be forthcoming, "We'll scent her down."
Derek shifted, as easily as water flowed around the rocks in a river bed, eyes turning red, "Not before I tear you apart."
"If that's what you want," Paul said, as he and his pack shifted.
In the blink of an eye, everything turned to chaos. Everything around Stiles erupted into a flurry of movement as the packs collided.
Stiles turned and shoved his dad up the stairs and into the house, slamming the door closed behind them. He could hear the roars from outside, the sounds of flesh being torn. "Stiles, what are you doing?" John demanded.
"Nothing you can do will put them down, leave them to Derek," Stiles said forcefully.
"We can't just let them tear each other apart," John said, eyes hard.
"There's nothing we can do to stop them. Keeping her safe is the only priority right now," Stiles insisted, grabbing his father by the shoulders when John moved to step past him.
John's jaw tightened as if he wanted to fight back, but he steeled himself and stood still, stopped fighting. Stiles dropped his head against John's shoulder, taking a deep breath. At that moment, a body came flying in through the living room window.
Through the doorway they watched as Isaac pulled himself from the floor, face alight in fury. He went back out the way he came, lips pulled back over his teeth in a sneer. Stiles' shoulders began to shake but he gasped in a deep breath, and pushed John towards the kitchen.
Stiles frantically started going through the kitchen cabinets, looking for the little jar that he put there for emergencies. "Dad, you're going to stay here, no matter what you hear, you are not going to come outside," Stiles rambled as he finally grabbed the jar, pouring a handful of it's contents into his hand, "If anyone and I mean anyone that you don't recognize comes at you, you shoot, no second thoughts."
John looked confused, "What are you talking about?"
"I'm trying to keep you alive, okay?!" Stiles didn't mean to shout, but he couldn't help it. He left John standing in the kitchen, confused if not a little afraid.
When Stiles stepped out the front door, there were bodies on the ground. The woman who had come with Paul, red haired and fair skinned, lay in a pool of blood at the bottom of the porch stairs. Stiles stepped over her, watching Derek swing hard at Paul from a distance.
Isaac and Boyd had one of the men on the ground a few yards away, with another stalking around them, looking for an opening. Stiles didn't even think. While the man was distracted, Stiles walked right up to him and took a pinch of the powder in his fingers. He looked at Stiles just as he blew the powder right into his eyes.
The man roared in pain, falling to his knees and hands coming up to claw at his own face. Isaac left the other man to Boyd as he walked over, reaching out to slash the injured wolves throat. In a matter of seconds, everything seemed to calm. All except for Derek and Paul.
The three betas ran over, leaving Stiles to stand in the middle of a battle field. They surrounded Paul, and the man stood tall. "You don't even know about her," He spat, wiping the blood from a cut on his forehead away from his eyes.
Derek stood rigid, furious, "I know all I need to know about her."
Paul laughed, loud and deranged, "You'll see. You'll all see."
Derek didn't wait, didn't let the man plead for his life. He simply snapped his neck, before there could be anymore blood shed. Stiles felt his fear finally wash over him as he collapsed on the ground.
In a moment, Derek's arms were around him as Stiles cried; holding him close, hands rubbing his back as he sobbed. He mourned the loss of the information they sought, they were left with no answers.
"What did he mean?" Stiles said with a sniff.
"It doesn't matter, she's ours, we'll take care of her," Derek said, trying to sound comforting but Stiles was still left with the pit in his stomach. It was like his peace of mind had been robbed from him.
"I need her, Derek," Stiles said, "Bring her to me."
"Alright, let's get everything cleaned up first," Derek said, picking Stiles up and taking him inside. John met them at the door, gun in his hand, before immediately holstering it at the sight of them.
"Is he hurt?" John asked, voice hard.
"No, he'll be fine," Derek said, walking Stiles into the kitchen and sitting him in one of the table chairs. He brought him a glass of orange juice, to keep him from crashing.
"What now?" John asked, "You have four dead bodies out there, what am I supposed to do?"
Derek looked at him from where he was knelt next to Stiles, "You let me take care of it."
John sighed, "I already trusted you to take care of this, and you ended up killing four people."
"They weren't people," Stiles said with a heavy look, "They weren't werewolves. They were monsters and murderers."
"That's all good and well, but what am I supposed to put in the police report to help get you full custody of Sophie? That you killed her only potential family?" John said firmly, as if he was the only sane one in the house.
"Would you have rather we allow them to track through Beacon Hills? Killing god knows who in their path? Jackson? Lydia? Even Sophie?" Stiles asked, eyes turning dark. He sighed when his father stood his ground, "We'll take care of the bodies, we're asking you to look away while we do so."
"What about their vehicles?" John asked.
"We'll take them back to Oregon, there's a lot of land there," Derek said interjecting himself back into the conversation happening mostly above his head.
John groaned, rubbing his temple like a headache was coming on, "Fine, fine. I'll head back to town and keep my nose out of it. I'll work on the paperwork to get you custody."
"Does my lawyer need to be involved?" Derek asked.
"If you would like the process expedited, that couldn't hurt," John said, stepping over to grip Stiles shoulder, "You were too close to it today."
Stiles just sighed, "This is my place."
John looked at him for a moment before turning and walking out of the house. They heard his cruiser rev to life and disappear down the drive.
"What are we going to do?" Stiles said suddenly sounding small, all the fight leaving his body. He felt like a husk of himself.
"We're going to take care of her, no matter what happens," Derek said, taking Stiles hands in his, "We don't know what Paul meant, but we're strong and capable, we'll take care of her."
Stiles smiled weakly at him, squeezing his hands, "I know we will."
Derek nodded, "Right now, that's all that matters. The rest of it, we'll take it as it comes."
"I suppose that's all we can do," Stiles said.
Later, when Derek was hosing down the front steps to disperse the blood, Jackson and Lydia pulled up in front of the house. Stiles rushed out to take Sophie out of her carrier. She was asleep, sleeping peacefully unaware of the war that had been fought for her.
As Stiles looked at her face, he couldn't fathom what Paul had been talking about. Certainly Derek would have smelled it on her, if something was wrong. With that comfort in mind, he went back into the house Lydia going with him.
Jackson jumped in to help clean things up. He helped Isaac tow the bodies around to the back of the house, to be buried at the back of the reserve. It was going to be a long day of back breaking labor, but knowing that Sophie would be safe kept everyone's spirits up.
"She slept the entire time, my parents loved her," Lydia said as they sat in the kitchen, unable to use the living room, "She'll be hungry soon."
"What did you tell them?" Stiles asked, tracing the edges of Sophie's face, almost wishing that she would wake to look at him with her bright eyes.
"Just that I was babysitting for a friend," Lydia said with a smile.
"Well, that's mostly the truth," Stiles smiled.
"And not exactly a lie," Lydia smiled back.
"I'm glad you all didn't have to see it," Stiles said, going quiet.
"It couldn't have been easy, how soon did Derek know?" Lydia asked.
Stiles looked up at her, "As soon as he stepped out of the car."
She nodded, "I figured as much, were we right?"
"Mostly," Stiles could only shrug, "We're left with more questions."
Lydia raised an eyebrow, "Like what?"
"Before he died, Paul was illuding to the fact that there was something wrong with Sophie, something that would have made us give her up," Stiles said with a displeased frown.
"He could have just been blowing smoke, knowing that he was going to die," Lydia said.
Stiles nodded, "He seemed pretty adamant about it."
Lydia sighed, "Whatever it is, we'll handle it. If there even is anything."
Stiles grinned painfully, "That's what Derek said."
"Smart man," Lydia said with a reassuring smile.
Stiles smiled genuinely at that as they fell into amiable silence, content to watch Sophie's sleeping face. They sat there for a while, waiting for the wolves to come inside. Though Stiles suspected that they would be out late into the night burying the bodies.
Eventually, Sophie woke, her eyes landing on Stiles as she giggled and reached up her little hands to touch his face. "Hello, sweet girl," He said, nudging her cheek gently.
She jabbered at him until he fetched her a bottle, allowing Lydia to feed her. He watched intently as she guzzled it down. When she acted like she was still hungry, he got her another quarter of a bottle.
"She's eating more than usual," Lydia commented.
"I think she's growing through a milestone," Stiles said, "She'll have a mental leap soon."
"Does being a werewolf baby mean that she'll hit her milestones faster than a human baby?" Lydia asked and Stiles shrugged.
"I mean, she's already keeping her head up by herself, and she can sit up for short periods of time on her own," He said, "So, maybe?"
"There's so much that we don't know," Lydia said forlornly.
"I'll mention it to Derek, and if he doesn't know the answer, we'll reach out to another pack," Stiles decided. There was too much that they didn't know, but Stiles wasn't going to stop until he had the answers.
