CHAPTER EIGHT

Summary: Hermione Granger, one of the brightest minds of her generation, makes a decision that will ultimately change her future plans. At twenty-three, she finds herself moving to a strange town that's a hell-mouth for supernatural beings, pregnant, and in way over her head. And the father of her unborn child? The tall, dark and handsome werewolf, Derek Hale. Rated M for a reason.

Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Teen Wolf and MTV. This is purely for entertainment purposes and I am not making a profit from the posting of this. This is set after Season 3, and everything from season 4 onwards doesn't happen; so no deadpool, Beast, Dread Doctors, Wild Hunt or Hunters. Allison still died, Liam will still be appearing, and there is no Kira or Malia. Derek is 22 and Hermione is 23. I'm fudging the time line a bit, too.

Page count: 11

Hermione watched and waited as Derek's wounds slowly knitted back together and his body healed for nearly an hour, until she could no longer take the silence in the room or his non-moving and unresponsive state, and she stood from the bed and went into the bathroom.

She closed the door behind her and moved to stand in front of the sink where a mirror sat above on the wall. She watched her reflection, seeing her features lined with exhaustion and worry, seeing her eyes looking red from the effort of holding back her tears.

She'd been terrified when she saw him so badly injured, absolutely terrified that he'd leave her and she would have to raise their baby on her own. The thought of having to do that on her own scared her, but she knew that as time went by and no matter how hard it was, she'd learn to do so without help. But that didn't mean it was her preference. In all honestly, she didn't want to do it alone. She wanted as much support as she could get. She wanted her baby to have people, parents that loved him or her as much as possible. She wanted someone to help her raise her baby and to help protect them, and she knew that Derek would do and was doing all of those things.

The thought of losing him scared her so much she actually felt nauseous. So what if it'd only been a few weeks? He was an important part of her life and they were doing their best to work together and to support each other and the baby. She couldn't get the sight of him out of her mind. To her Derek was strong and confident and untouchable, but the sight of him laying unconscious on the bed and covered in blood and wounds showed her how wrong she was. He was a werewolf, but he was also human and he could get hurt just like she could. He wasn't indestructible.

Her stomach coiled in fear and she brought a hand up to rest against her covered stomach, still flat and without any outward sign of pregnancy, but she knew it wouldn't be that way for much longer.

Her baby could've very well lost their father before they were even born and would've been left with just her for family.

Tears welled in her eyes once more and this time she didn't bother trying to stop them from falling, she needed a good cry to get all of the pent up fear and worry out of her, otherwise it would consume her.

Hermione moved sit on the closed toilet seat, she hunched over on herself, buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

~000~000~000~

He was aware of soft brushes against his skin, of a warm hand holding his gently, of a soft voice murmuring to him, and all of it helped him to grab onto reality and pull himself back to the present.

His eyes slowly opened, his vision clear and staring up at a cream coloured ceiling. The first thing he realised was that the bed he was on wasn't his own, the second was that he was in the motel room he'd been staying in the last few days, the third was that he felt rested, and the last thing was that he was no longer in pain.

He remembered what'd happened, he remembered James half dragging, half carrying him back to his car and driving to the motel, and he remembered collapsing onto the bed, after that point there's nothing. And the likely reason for that being that he'd passed out while his body healed. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out but when he pushed himself into a sitting position and he looked down at himself, it was to see himself clean of blood if but for a few dried spots, and his body was free of injuries.

He looked to the radio sat on the table across the room, seeing that it wasn't long after four o'clock, but he was surprised to see the date. It was only the day after? How was that possible? Given the damage he'd taken, his body would've needed a few days to properly heal, but as he stood from the bed he didn't experience any pain, any dizziness or any discomfort. He ran his hands over his face and body, checking for any wounds that might not have fully healed, but he couldn't find any.

What had happened to him in the time he'd been unconscious? How had his body healed so quickly? And where the hell was James?

Standing in the middle of the room all but naked except for his underwear, he looked down at himself confused. The sound of a door opening had his head snapping up to the bathroom, only to see Hermione stepping out and wiping at her face with the sleeve of jacket whilst she sniffled.

What was she doing there? How had she found him?

His eyes briefly flickered back to the radio, being reminded of the time he silently berated himself. He hadn't been there to meet her, which meant James had likely found a way to contact her and inform her of the change in the meeting place.

She slowly looked up from the ground and he felt himself growing worried when her eyes widened, locking on him. Her eyes were bright red and puffy, tears still swimming in her eyes. Her nose was red, too, and she gripped what looked to be scrunched up tissues in one of her hands.

Why had she been crying? He thought.

His own eyes widened in surprise when a look of anger crossed her face, and her mouth opened.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking!" She demanded, her voice rising in a way he hadn't heard from her before. It was filled with anger and pain and fear. "You scared the shit out of me!"

He could count on one hand the number of times he'd heard her curse, which just went to show how out of sorts she really was.

"Do you have any idea of what you put me through! Of how scared I was! Of how worried I was! You should've seen the state you were in when I got here, I thought you were dying!"

Her tears fell forcefully down her face, streaming over her cheeks and dropping onto her t-shirt leaving behind wet marks. His eyes briefly swept the room and worry and a little bit of fear filled him, when he saw that several things in the room were levitating from the ground and bobbing about in the air. The table and chairs by the window, the TV from the chest of drawers and his duffle bag which had been on the floor in the corner of the room.

Like he could feel when another werewolf was present, he was sure he could feel her magic swarming the air and filling the room. It wrapped around him in a way that made him warm and light headed, it brushed against him like a summer's breeze causing the hairs on his body to stand on end and a shiver ran through him.

She'd told him a magical pregnancy was dangerous for witches; that their magic was more often than not volatile and they suffered accidental magical outbursts, and now he knew what that had meant. He was bearing witness to it as he was sure she had no idea of what her magic was doing now, she wasn't paying attention to anything in the room but him.

Her eyes were narrowed dangerously despite the tears falling down her face, her hands were clenched into tight fists down by her sides and she had a look on her face as though she was very much contemplating the idea of punching him, and werewolf or not, he knew she would. And then hex him after for good measure. One thing he'd learned about her was that she was a vindictive little thing.

"Derek, you scared the actual hell of out me and I haven't felt fear like that in years. I havent felt like that since the war!"

The fear and worry and anger shone on her face, twisting her beautiful, kind features and he felt his heart all but shatter for her and the wolf in him howled to see her so unlike her usual herself. Not knowing how to help her, not knowing what to say to the obviously distraught witch and not knowing what he could do about her magic acting out –which was terrifying and reminded him to never piss her off- he did the only thing he could think of.

Not caring an inch for his almost nudity –after all, she'd seen him naked before- he strode across the room and took her in his arms, pulling her small frame against him. She resisted at first, growling and snarling –like a werewolf, he realised- and she beat her fists against his chest, trying to struggle free of his hold. She put up one hell of a fight, he admitted, but he just held onto her tighter, bringing her closer to his body until the fight left her and she slumped against him. The growling and snarling faded into cries and he felt her tears hit his chest, her arms moved up to loop around his neck and she stood up on her tiptoes and buried her face in his neck.

Despite her clear upset he felt calm in her presence and the wolf in him settled down, no longer being on edge now that he had her with him again. He reached down and scooped her up, carrying her over to the bed where he sat her down across his lap once he perched himself on the edge of the mattress. He held her close to him and he buried his nose against her neck, nuzzling at her skin and taking in the scent of her. He allowed one hand to move from her back and it slipped down in-between them to gently smooth over her stomach, him noting that it was still flat and without outward proof of her pregnancy.

He didn't know how long they sat that way, the only sound in the room being that of Hermione's cries and sniffles and of the rumbles of his wolf, but Hermione finally pulled back from him, her face bright red and her eyes puffy and instantly locking on to his own.

He reached down and took the ball of tissues from her hand and he brought it up to her face, gently dabbing at her eyes and cheeks, before wiping at her nose and then he threw the tissues across the room until it landed in the bin sat by the table and chairs, which had thankfully been lowered back to the ground along with the rest of the items she'd accidentally levitated.

The hand that wasn't pressed against her stomach came up to her face, resting against her cheek to keep their gazes locked and he felt one of her hands come down to her stomach to rest over his own, while the other remained hooked around the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry," were the first words that left his mouth since before he'd passed out the night before. "I didn't mean to scare you," he muttered gravelly. "We knew there was a possibility of there being more than one hunter, but we never thought they'd have the help of another werewolf, and he was a lot stronger than I anticipated him being, and now I know better. I really am sorry."

She slowly nodded, her eyes searching his face for something, he didn't know what. Relief filled him and his body relaxed and he pulled her back to his body in a hug, she didn't fight this time and he was sure that as he buried his face against her neck, he briefly felt her nose brush his skin and he heard her intake of breath. Was she taking in his scent? That was the second werewolf related trait he'd seen her do that evening.

"Did you do something to me? I know I was wounded badly and my body can't have healed itself in less than a day." He asked, reluctantly pulling back from her so he could look at her.

She nodded, giving another sniffle despite the fact she'd stopped crying. "Yes," she spoke, her voice quiet and sad. "I used my healing supplies to help heal your wounds, one in particular was designed specifically for speeding up a werewolf's already advanced healing process. Given your genetics being different to a magical werewolf, I wasn't sure if it would work. It took just over an hour for your final wound to finish healing."

His eyes widened slightly. He hadn't realised the capabilities of magical healing. He'd assumed it would be better than regular human medicines and treatment, but he never thought it was able to heal wounds such as his in such little time, even if he did have his advanced healing.

"Thank you," he said. "How did you have access to your healing supplies? How did you even know where to find me?"

"I have this magical handbag I used during the war. In it is everything I need to survive in the wild, from food to shelter to healing supplies. I always make sure it's fully stocked and I always carry it with me in case of emergencies. Some habits from the war are hard to break, including this one, and it's a good job, too. When I got to the cafe, the barista said there was a note left for me. It told me to come here and after a little help, I was able to find a visual aid and I apparated here. I suspect it was that friend of yours."

"James," he nodded. "Have you met him? Do you know where he is?"

"Yes, he was here when I arrived. I think I may have frightened him," she said, a sheepish look crossing her face and amusement bubbled within him.

"Really?"

"Yes, by the time I'd finished questioning him about your injuries he was all but backed up against the wall." A snort left him. "I told you, I have a temper. When I saw you literally covered in blood and unconscious, I lost it."

"I've witnessed your temper," he commented.

"No, you haven't. What you witnessed was barely a tenth of my actual temper."

"That worries me," he admitted with a slight frown, after all, he'd seen her magic act out without her knowledge. If that happened when she was only a slightly bit angry, what happened when her full temper was triggered?

"Good, it should," she replied. She let out a sigh and lifted her hand from her stomach to push a fallen curl out of her face and behind her ear. "I wasn't kidding, Derek, you really did scare me," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry, I never meant for you to see that."

"I had this impression of you being superhuman, of you being all powerful and untouchable but what I saw of you, it made me realise you're human just like me and you can get injured just as easily as I can. You promised me you'd be careful, and you weren't," she whispered, feeling tears welling up in her eyes once more.

He let out a sigh and titled his head forward until their foreheads were pressed together and he closed his eyes, allowing her scent to invade his nose. God, how could he miss someone so much after such a little time of knowing them?

"I've come to the same realisation," he confessed. "It didn't matter as much before since there was only me, but I've got a baby on the way and I need to start making sure I don't run into situations blindly and putting myself at risk."

"It's not just the baby that needs you, I need you, too" she muttered. His eyes slowly opened and he pulled back to look at her face, seeing her biting at her lip and his eyes zeroed in on the action. "You might not realise it but I depend on you, too. I might seem as though I've got everything figured out, that I know what I'm doing, but I don't, I have no clue. I'm just going through the pregnancy day by day hoping that everything will be fine and I'll have no issues. I may not depend on you physically or financially, but I certainly do emotionally. Most of the time I'm so calm is because you're the one that calms me, you're the one that sets me at ease with your presence. Since you moved into the cottage, I'm sleeping a lot better and I don't worry that something could wrong and I'd be on my own without any help, because I know you're never too far away. As much as you're a pain in the arse, I know it comes from a good place and you just want to make sure me and the baby are safe. If you hadn't pulled through, I honestly don't know what I would've done."

He watched her face carefully, seeing the way her eyes seemed to trace the features of his face as if committing them to memory and when she noticed that he was watching her she quickly looked away from him and to the floor, her cheeks colouring pink.

Now, that certainly was interesting, he thought. He hadn't known her long but he hadn't seem her blush once, not even on the night they'd slept together and they'd certainly done things that were blush worthy.

She seemed to startle out of nowhere and he looked to see that her eyes had widened, her cheeks had blushed a darker shade and her eyes traced his body, apparently just realising that she was draped over his lap and he was only clad in his underwear. He felt a smirk pull at his face when he heard the hitch in her breath and her heart skip a beat, something a regular human would've missed but his hearing picked up on easily.

This was the first time she'd shown any reaction towards him and he wondered if it was a onetime thing, or she'd just been very good at hiding her true feelings from him. She squirmed in his lap and attempted to climb off him and before he could stop himself, both of his hands flew to grip at her hips and keep her in place and a growl rumbled from the back of his throat, not wanting her to leave now that she was so close to him.

A slight gasp left her lips and his eyes fell down to her mouth, but not before he noticed that hers had done the same with him. He pulled her closer to his body, bringing their heads closer together and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. He titled his face a little more forwards, their lips barely touching, but if either of them were to speak they would feel the movement.

"This is a bad idea," she mumbled quietly, but he'd still heard.

"Why?" He questioned, his voice a little louder than hers has been.

"It could complicate things."

"It's not like I can knock you up again, I've already done it once," he said, his mouth twitching. He could practically feel her annoyance in the way her magic seemed to surround them, brushing against him softly.

"It could make things awkward between us," she said, not giving his last comment a reaction.

"I don't think it will. I want you, badly." Her breath hitched, he leaned into her and she leaned back, but their noses were almost touching. "I can't stop thinking about you, about that night."

"You do?" She asked quietly, breathlessly, he noted pleased.

"I do."

Fire and heat flickered in her eyes and she let out a sigh. "Oh thank, Merlin," she breathed out, before she closed the little distance there was between them and her mouth pressed to his.

His tongue wasted no time in darting out to seek entrance past her lips and she granted him it, her hands coming up to loop around his neck, one sliding into his hair and getting caught in the strands. His grip on her hips tightened slightly, before she found herself being lifted and shifted back onto his lap so she was straddling him and he'd done it with little effort. His hands moved from her hips, one moving up her body to remove the bobble from her hair. Her wild curls fell down her back and he buried his hand into her curls and the other moved to slip under her jacket and t-shirt, smoothing over the bare skin of her back and pushing her body closer to his.

Barely a few moments later, her jacket was pushed off her shoulders and it slid down her arms onto the ground, before their hands found their way back to the other. She let out a squeak of surprise when she was pressed into the mattress on her back and Derek moved to settle himself in the cradle of her thighs, all without removing his mouth from hers.

She let her hands wander, tracing the ridges of hard muscle and hot skin the way she had that night they'd met. A growl rumbled in his chest when she nibbled at his bottom lip before she pulled her mouth from him, needing to breathe. Her mouth moved across his cheek and down to his jaw, dragging her teeth over his throat and nipping at his neck. Another growl rumbled in him.

"I will bite you," he muttered, burying his face against her neck and allowing his nose to nuzzle at her skin.

"Is that a promise?" She breathed out, still being breathless from their kiss.

A louder growl was heard this time. "Witch! Don't tease."

"I'm not a tease."

"I beg to differ," he muttered, his lips brushing the skin of her throat and he nipped her with his teeth, causing her breath to hitch.

"You're one to talk," she scoffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned, pulling back to look at her face and her hands slipped to resting on his shoulders whilst he propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at her.

"You've been deliberately frustrating me since the day we bloody met," she replied. He raised an eyebrow. "Well, since the day we re-met I should say. You're always invading my personal space, you're always walking around shirtless and you're always following me around when I just want to be left alone so I can suffer in silence."

"Meaning?"

"I lied to you," she confessed. He gave her a look that told her to continue. "About my symptoms, I'm not just suffering from morning sickness. Since the day we re-met, my hormones have been acting up. Really badly actually, especially when you're walking around bloody shirtless. You're all I can bloody think about and it's irritating." She shifted underneath him and he felt his mouth twitch into a smirk.

"Hormones?" He questioned.

"Yes, hormones," she scowled.

"Oh, those hormones," his smirk widened when the penny dropped and he understood her meaning. "Why didn't you tell me, I would've gladly helped?"

Her eyes snapped up to his and they widened slightly, before she shook her head. "I didn't think you were interested in me that way, so I saw no point in bringing it up. I've been hiding it from you for weeks and you never said anything."

He frowned slightly, before a snort of amusement left him. "Hell, I've been hiding it from you, too."

"Excuse me?" She said in surprise and confusion.

He smirked. "You've been driving me crazy for weeks. I tried to get a reaction out of you, but you never seemed bothered."

"Are you telling me that we're both attracted to each other and have been for a while, but that we've both been hiding it from each other as we assumed the other wasn't interested?" She frowned.

"Certainly am," he nodded.

She sighed and brought her hands away from his shoulders to bury her face in them. "All this bloody tension and frustration could've been avoided," her voice was muffled but he still heard it.

"Speaking of tension, did you deal with it yourself?" He asked. He heard her gasp of surprise and even under her hands he could see her entire face flaming bright red. "That's a yes," he said, barely containing his laugh. "What did you think about?" She removed her hands from covering her face and scowled at him. "Me?" Her scowl turned into a glare. "What was I doing?" He asked, lowering his head so their noses touched. "Tell me, I'm curious to know."

Her answer was to slap at his shoulder before pulling him back down to her with a hand behind the back of his neck, their mouths once more locking in a breathless kiss.

The sound of the door opening had them both pulling back from each other and turning their heads to see James stood in the doorway, a bag in his hand and his eyes wide and staring at them.

A deep, loud growl fell from Derek's lips and James' took a step back. "You know what, I forgot the drinks, be right back," he said, before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Derek sighed and turned to look at Hermione, who not only looked annoyed at being interrupted, but embarrassed at having been caught. He chuckled at her before climbing off her and disappearing into the bathroom, reappearing not long after brushing his teeth and relieving his bladder.

Hermione kept her eyes down cast and entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and he shook his head in amusement. Well, that evening had definitely been interesting, he thought.

He quickly changed his underwear and slipped on a clean pair of jeans, and just as he was about to pull his t-shirt on, James walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He stared at Derek's blemish free torso with confused and wide eyes.

"That's not possible," he muttered, putting the bag he was carrying on the table and pulling out a chair to perch himself on. "How?"

"Hermione," Derek answered with a shrug and he pulled his t-shirt over his head before pulling on his shoes.

"How?"

"I told you she was different."

"Yeah, but not that she was different. What is she? I haven't heard of anyone that can do what she's done. I saw the state you were in, it would've taken days to heal. She's done it in less than two hours. Now I know why she asked me to leave."

"I can't tell you what she is, it's a secret and if anyone finds out, she'll be arrested. All you need to know is she's different, and she's powerful, so I wouldn't aggravate her either. She'll have you on your ass before you even saw it coming."

"Different, right," he nodded and then shook his head of his thoughts. A half smirk, half smile pulled at his mouth. "So, Hermione?" He said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. "You said she was beautiful, but you never said she was a stunner, or that she was British. That came as a surprise. No wonder you're so possessive of her."

"I'm not," Derek denied.

"No? Then stop growling at me," James shrugged his shoulders. Derek sent him a withering look. "Though, I would be annoyed, too, if someone interrupted me when I had a beautiful woman like her beneath me."

"Watch it, James, that's the mother of my baby you're talking about," Derek warned with a growl wrapping around his words.

James smirked at him. "But it's so much fun. I don't think I've ever seen you this protective of a woman, not even Paige."

"Who's Paige?" Hermione asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

Derek glared at James before turning to look at her over his shoulder. "No one, nothing for you to worry about," he told her.

She frowned but turned her eyes to James after shaking her head, and she gave him a sheepish look. "I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier, you didn't deserve it."

He waved her off. "Don't worry about it, I get it, you were worried about Derek and it was a shock to see him so bloodied up. Trust me, I've faced worse tempers than yours in my life."

"Oh, then why were you backed up against the wall?" She asked innocently.

A snort of amusement left Derek and he crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk pulling at his mouth.

"I said I've faced worse tempers, I didn't say that you weren't frightening because believe me, you were," James said, sending her a look of amusement as he turned his attention to pulling out the contents of the bag, which looked to be food.

The moment the smell hit her nose, her stomach rolled.

"What the hell is that?" She asked, scrunching her nose up.

"Fish tacos," James replied.

"It smells disgusting," she grimaced.

"They're delicious," he shrugged his shoulders.

The moment he unwrapped the packaging and the smell was twice as strong, Hermione darted to the bathroom and Derek wasn't far behind her. As she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet, Derek rubbed comforting circles on her back and held her hair back from her face.

"Why would he eat that? What's wrong with him?" Hermione cried, briefly looking up at Derek until another wave hit her and she threw up once more.

"I don't even know where to begin answering that question," he replied.

"I heard that!" James called, but they both ignored him.

When Hermione no longer felt sick almost fifteen minutes later, he retrieved a bottle of water James had brought back with him and the bobble he'd dropped to the ground –sending a glare to James seeing as he was the one to trigger her sickness-before returning to Hermione. She swilled her mouth out while he tied her hair back from her face, then he scooped down and settled her in his arms, carrying her over to the bed and setting her down on the mattress.

"You okay?" He asked, perching on the bed beside her.

"Yeah," she sighed, before grabbing a pillow and putting it over her head to block out the smell. "If he's got anything else, you may as well eat it while I'm blocking out the smell of any other triggers," her voice was muffled but he understand.

The mattress dipped as he climbed off the bed and made his way over to the table, taking one of the other tacos –this one pork- and eating; he was starving.