Hey sorry about the delay guys, I was visiting my sister in London recently But on the plus side I got fired the other day so more time to write!

Chapter 6

Draft 10

The first thing Stiles saw, after kissing the concrete steps that lead into the school, was two pairs of girls' shoes. His gaze followed up four tanned legs to reveal his friends, Malia and Lydia. They stood there and watched him scramble to his feet, only catching half his books before they got trampled on. Luckily he managed to stand before meeting that same fate himself.

'This can't have been good for the baby' was the direction his mind automatically went in. Stiles felt heavy with worry for a few seconds before he managed to push the feeling away. 'I barely fell, and I'd feel something' he told himself. The fact that the only pain he felt was a slightly sore cheek comforted him.

"Thanks" he smiled sarcastically at them while stuffing his things back in his rucksack and swung it onto one shoulder, almost falling backwards again.

"You're late" Lydia stated, looking him over with questioning eyes. Stiles felt the irritation creeping up his spine; he was certainly not in the mood for this. After all he had to drive right across town to get back home before heading to school, causing him to miss double chemistry. He'd thought of faking an emergency meeting with his therapist and then join English at the end of break; people tend not to ask too many questions when you start talking about that sort of thing.

"Yeah thanks, I did notice" he rolled his eyes at them, making the girls exchange a surprised glance.

"And the principle wants to see you" Malia added, annoyance in her voice "What? You thought you could just skip school and no one would notice?"

Stiles didn't answer, instead he pushed his way between them, forcing them both to stumble a step or two to the side. Lydia and Malia lost sight of him once he went through the big double doors.

"What's his problem!?" Lydia scoffed.

"I told you he's been acting weird" Malia grumbled and folded her arms in annoyance. Just then, Kira and Scott came wandering over. Scott had his arm round his girlfriend's neck while she hung her free hand round his waist. Scott was whispering into her ear, making her blush and giggle. They stopped in front of the girls and shared a long closed kiss, followed by a few more small pecks before finally untangling themselves from each other.

"Who is?" Scott smiled back at his friends.

"Stiles" They told him unison.

"Mm! Yeah, I know right!" Kira acknowledged, having also noticed her friend's moodiness and antisocial behaviour. She mused on it for a while and remembered what Stiles had told her about him and Derek. Maybe he feels guilty? She wondered, and hoped he did, even if that wasn't the case.

"I don't know, it's probably nothing." Scott dismissed their concerns without a second thought. He had to at least try and eradicate any suspicion they had over Stiles, or buy him some time to figure out a way to tell her himself.

"Maybe he's just stressed….midterm is soon" Lydia added to Scott's relief.

…...

"Dude, you need to talk to her" Scott called through the bathroom stall door. He grimaced as he heard Stiles gagging, silently cursing his heightened senses. Scott could hear him moaning as he heaved himself up to flush the chain; the noise of which drained everything else out. The door eventually swung open revealing a bloated, fed-up looking teenage boy. Scott handed him a bottle of water which Stiles gratefully took from him. He slumped against the plastic door frame, taking a few movements to compose himself.

"What?" He asked in a coarse voice. Scott frowned, leading him over to the sinks.

"Malia" he prompted softly. Stiles ignored him. The boy took a deep breath and splashed water over his face. He stood up straight and brushed his clothes down, staring intensely at his reflection. Scott watched as his friend pulled down his shirt around his stomach. He smoothed his palms across the area then turned sideways; sucking himself in.

"This is so fucking weird" Scott blurted out managing to finally get his friend's attention.

"I wanna tell Derek first." Said Stiles to Scott's reflection as he stroked his stomach fondly; breathing normally once again. After drying his face with a paper towel, he smiled at his underdeveloped bump. He then turned to Scott, daring him to challenge his decision.

"Well, whatever, you need to do something. This isn't fair on her" he mumbled, picking up their bags. Stiles scowled at him, snatching his bag away.

"Yeah I know!" Scott sighed, reading Stiles' stern eyes "Malia's not the one throwing up in a toilet or arguing with her Dad about the long term reality of having a baby. Or fuck. Having a baby. But she's still your girlfriend. For now anyway…."

"I know. I know-I know-I know, alright? I just need to sort some things out first."

"What, like the rest of your entire existence?" Scott asked as they headed for the door.

"Yeah. That sounds 'bout right"

The rest of the day was pretty mundane. Everyone seemed to be getting along like they always did. However, Stiles couldn't shake a nigerling feeling in the back of his mind telling him that everyone was just faking smiles and reciting their lines in the way two-faced teenagers always have. On the other hand, maybe his guilty conscious was simply reading too much into things. Other than that, the school day continued on with its usual hallway gossip and starring at clocks until the last bell finally rang out.

His communication with Derek had been steadily increasing, which could only be a good thing considering the fact that he was bloody caring his child. They texted on and off all that day and spoke on the phone after school. The call had happened while Stiles was preparing dinner and ended with an arrangement to meet in town the following day. Stiles had intended to use this opportunity to tell him about their child but even then he knew his real motivations. He'd traded procrastinating school work for something of a much more serious variety. The best thing about Derek, Stiles believed, was that although he was definitely in their friend group he completely served as a separate entity and shielded him from reality. He was the perfect escape; always had been. But that was, in a way, completely what got them in this mess in the first place.

It wasn't long before his father arrived home; he didn't have to hear the car roll up their drive to know it was him.

"Oh good, you are awake" The Sheriff announced bitingly, letting the screen door bang in soft wind behind him. His oppressive presence pricked the hairs on Stiles' arms up on ends.

"Hey Daddy." he beamed, as he continued to stir the bubbling stew "how was work?"

His father ignored the question just as he had the jibe. He threw his jacket and bag onto the dining table. Yanking at his tie, he took an unsatisfying gulp of warm air.

Stiles looked on in heated anticipation. He turned the heat down on the hob and left their dinner to simmer. Making his way over to the fridge, the sheriff's son retrieved a pitcher of freshly made iced tea and poured out a tall glass complete with ice and a sprig of mint. If anyone knew how to relax his father it was Stiles.

The sheriff's sweaty, tired hands took the drink gratefully from his son and chugged down a few mouthfuls. After finishing his drink, he pulled a chair out and sat away from the table. He met his son's expectant gaze while he spoke:

"Buttering me up isn't gonna change my mind or make me any less angry."

"Hehe yeah I know, I just thought...it's hot" Stiles laughed playfully, and, slowly, sat a little away from him.

There was a silence, and both listened to the background noise; a few cars could be heard cruising by, the faint music from a BBQ down the road and their supper bubbling away. Tom sideward glanced at his son who had his fingers lanced together, resting them across his stomach. They made eye contact and Stiles braced himself for the yelling he knew was about to proceed. Much to his surprise his father simply looked away and sighed to the ground. He looked sad.

"I know this isn't what you wanted" Stiles enunciated carefully. He kept his eyes firmly on his father, watching and calculating his every move, trying to figure out how he would react.

"huh!" his father laughed then looked back at his son "you're damn right there." This seemed to wind Stiles, rendering him speechless. So his father spoke instead, sensing the pain in his child's heart. He stood up and walked over to his son, kneeling down by his chair.

"Look, kid" he placed a hand on each of Stiles knees, and gathered his thoughts for a moment before proceeding "I could sit here and tell you all about how you are just being sucked in by the romanticism of being pregnant and not seeing the reality of the child that comes after; that this a human life we're taking about." The sheriff had to take another deep breath to compose himself again "I could spout facts and figures about drop-out rates and quality of life and salaries and so on and so on. But I'm not gonna do that. You have four more days before it's too late. Then we're stuck with this damn baby whether you like or not."

He stopped a moment and searched Stiles' eyes for a reaction, a clue about what to do next. Tom had played out this conversation a thousand times in his head already that day. But here he was, a lump burning in his throat, at his boys knees, trying to find the words.

"I love you so much" he continued. It was all he had ever known for certain; through everything that had happened, Claudia, the drinking, werewolves, everything. Whatever came to be that was the sole indisputable fact in his life.

"You are my treasure, my life, my pride and joy, everything good, my light, my little boy, the sole reason I get up every damn morning, MY baby...…you are my sunshine." he reached up and rubbed away a few stray tears that had silently cascaded across Stiles' cheeks. "I just want you to know that - I just want you to be okay" he let his words hang in the air, aching to reach up and hold his son tighter than he had ever done. Why do they have to grow up? He could have cried. Was he even grown up?

...

Somehow they had managed to get to the end of that week; a Friday that everyone in Beacon hills was more than ready for. The sun shone with an intense heat and even the birds woke up too exhausted to chirp.

However the boys still ended up having lunch inside to avoid the girls, and Kira being the perfect little girlfriend she followed them dutifully. But while they suffocated inside, hoping the girls wouldn't creep up behind them, Malia and Lydia were sun bathing on the lawn lazily eating their lunches.

"Are you guys even still dating?" Lydia asked sleepily as she arched her back up, flopping her head back in a half crab sort of motion. She loved flustering the freshmen, what better excuse than summer and right now.

"Pretty sure" Malia replied almost sarcastically.

"Yeah well, he's not acting like it." Lydia sat back up straight with her legs to the side; protecting her dignity. "You need to do something, girl"

She is right, thought Malia, I need to do something about it. "Let's follow him" Malia decided, already formulating a plan in her head.

"What? No! Weren't you listening? I meant like make him jealous; show him what's he's missing. That kind of thing"

"No, you're right. We should follow him."

"I never said that"

"Tonight after school"

Lydia let out an over dramatic whine to let her distaste known but Malia had long got past ignoring her.

"We can see what he gets up too. I'll finally find out what he's been hiding from me – 'cause I know he's hiding something. This is perfect"

"Can't you just dump him?" Lydia pleaded jokingly, but secretly curious about her commitment to him.

"No" Malia spat out like a child who'd just tasted broccoli for the first time.

"Jason from Spanish class is totally into you, you know" she pushed, determined to get some blood out of this stone.

"Yeah I know"

"And he's totally cute. Plus his parents are lawyers."

"I'm not dumping Stiles" she protested which made Lydia smile and mentally curse him for being such an idiot.

By fifth period, Malia had managed to get Lydia to agree to trail her boyfriend with her. So they fell back after school then proceeded to follow him. They followed him to his car, then back home. Lydia hoped Stiles had intended to study and spend some quality time with his TV. But alas, it wasn't long before they were on the road again. Stiles b-lined straight for a dusty old book store that had been recently revamped. He waited around outside for a good 15 minutes before finally meeting someone. The girls couldn't see at first, but once he got closer it became very obvious who it was.

"I didn't know they hung out" Malia mentioned half hiding behind a bus stop while Lydia couldn't be doing less to hide herself. She wasn't exactly inconspicuouseither with her fiery curls and pin up legs. She lowered her heart shaped sunglasses at the boys.

"They're always texting" Lydia shrugged and replaced her shades.

After watching the two hug as way of a greeting, they waited for a few moments before slowly following them into the crampt store which widened open entree giving view to a retro styled book store/coffee shop. They brought a couple drinks, grabbed a few books and pretended to read them. They both sat in a small booth, opposite to the large sofa that Stiles and Derek had occupied. There were enough tables and people milling around chatting so that they were unnoticed. Neither of the girls spoke but Derek and Stiles seemed to be talking for England*. They chattered their way through 3 jugs of sweet tea while the girls' coffees went cold.

"What are they saying?" Asked Lydia, they were out of any humans' (or Banshees') hearing range, but Malia was anything but Human or Banshee.

"Nothing really" she mumbled.

Lydia watched for body language as that was all she could do. They seemed friendly, casual. They both sat with their sides against the sofa back and Derek had his arm lying across the top (fingers pointing towards Stiles). Stiles' hands were on his lap, except for when he used them to emphasise the points that Derek appeared to be nodding along to. When Stiles pulled his legs up and bunched them up in his arms, it was Derek's turn to talk. Stiles rested his head on his knees and leaned back against the back of the brown sofa. He closed his eyes, then opened them a few times; evidently tired…again. Why is he always tired? Lydia asked herself aloud.

"They've stopped talking" Malia turned to Lydia, startled, then turned back to continue watching her boyfriend and cousin.

"Oh calm down, they probably just ran out of words" Lydia moaned as she looked round the room, bored. "We have been here almost 2 hours and nothing has happened!"

Malia hushed her.

"Besides that guy keeps looking at us weirdly. I think it's because we've only brought one cup in almost two hours-"

"Well go get some more coffee then!" Malia snapped which shut her friend up but didn't move her.

Derek now had his hand trailing through Stiles hair, tracing circles and swirls that Stiles seemed to lean his head into. His eyes where closed and he looked like a purring cat. He mumbled something through a laugh and Derek hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on Stiles' freckles. They seemed to be a little closer together since the girls had looked away. This was evidenced by how Derek's arm was no longer stretched out but bent. Stiles head could only be a few inches away from Derek shoulder at this point.

Stiles opened his eyes and looked up, he seemed suddenly worried. Derek frowned at the boy, his hand was not longer messing up his hair but hung close to his face. Derek said something and caressed Stiles' cheek as he did so. Whatever it was, it seemed to ease the teen slightly.

"Has Stiles ever touched you like that? Or Derek?" Malia's voice trembled slightly. Lydia scrunched up her face and shook her head slowly. Malia turned back to look at them, and tried to rationalise it:

"They've always been … close."

"True" Lydia readily agreed

"Friends touch each other" This time, Lydia didn't reply .

They seemed to be very close all of a sudden and Malia almost couldn't watch.

Derek was the one who made the first move. A soft kiss, stolen and tender. Things should have stopped there. But the back of Derek's hand was stroking the opposite side of Stiles' face and it didn't take much more than that to entice him into another kiss. This one wider. This one deeper. Before Malia was able to stop herself from crying, Derek's hand was cupping Stiles' face and Stiles' held onto Derek's thigh with one hand as they shuffled in their seats.

*My Beta suggested that I define this as people outside of the UK may not understand. It just a phrase used to describe people or a person who just seems to be able to endless talk about anything and everything.