I don't own Teen Wolf.
Cut Out All the Ropes: Chapter 7
Derek shifted from one foot to the other in the entry way of the Stilinski's house, taking a sip of his cup of coffee with his other hand shoved deep in his pockets. He chewed on his bottom lip as he glanced at the clock on the wall in the dining room, swallowing his sigh.
"Stiles, get a move on! You're going to be late!" Steve called up the stairs, nodding at Derek as he crossed through the living room. "You don't have to stand at the door, Derek. You can sit down in here. Stiles might be a minute."
"Um, yeah, okay," Derek said, perching on the edge of the couch. "Um, Mr. Stilinski, about the other day, I mean the night of the accident…"
"It's fine, Derek. Stiles told me you were out of town. Everyone's okay. It's fine."
Derek was saved from replying when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He looked up and watched as Stiles slowly walked down the stairs, his steps hesitant and unsure. Steve sighed, climbing halfway up the stairs to take Stiles elbow lead him down the stairs. Derek bit his lip when he noticed Stiles was shirtless, his skin pale and stretched over the twins growing inside of him.
"One more step," Steve said quietly and Stiles tried to stifle the whimper as his feet finally reached the ground floor.
"Does this look worse?" Stiles said quietly and it was then that Derek noticed the bruise going across Stiles' chest. Steve squinted, letting his fingers trail over the bruise, sighing when Stiles flinched.
"There's a bit more of a bruise on your chest, but your face looks less swollen and bruised" Steve said, adjusting the straps on the neck brace. "And what did I say with playing with these straps?"
"Not to," Stiles mumbled, letting his eyes fall shut.
"Come on, put your shirt on so you can get to your appointment," Steve said. Stiles whimpered, pulling the shirt he had been carrying with him over his head slowly.
"What's that bruise from?" Derek asked, climbing to his feet to help pull the shirt down over Stiles' shoulders.
"Seatbelt," Steve said simply, handing Stiles the small plastic cup filled with the liquid pain reliever.
"Wow," Derek said, looking at Stiles sympathetically. Stiles rolled his eyes, glancing around the room for his shoes. Derek watched as the teen bent awkwardly at his knees to bend over and pick up his ratty old tennis shoes without moving his neck or bending at the waist.
"I'm fine," Stiles mumbled.
"Now, he's already been registered at the hospital, you just have to get him to the east wing of the second floor. And please pay attention to what they say incase it's anything important. His appointments at 11 and then the appointment with Dr. Jeffers is at 2. If she can tell you the sex and you guys want to find out, go ahead. I don't have to be there."
"I've got it, Mr. Stilisnki," Derek said, nodding his head as Stiles struggled to shrug on his jacket.
"And dinner will be at one tomorrow. It'll just be us and maybe Scott since Melissa has to work."
"Scott's going to the Argent's," Stiles said from to door.
"Okay, well then it looks like it'll just be us," Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Do you need me to bring anything?" Derek asked, standing and pulling his keys out of his pocket.
"Well since Stiles can't really eat solid food, I guess it's just you and I eating so whatever you want to do."
"We've got to go, Dad," Stiles mumbled, opening the door.
"Be careful. Love you, buddy."
"Love you, too, Dad," Stiles said, walking slowly out the front door. He paused at the end of the side walk, his eyes wide. If his mouth could hang open, he was sure it would be.
"Whose car is this?" Stiles asked, turning away from the SUV to stare at Derek.
"Mr. Whittemore's. I figured it'd be easier for you to get in and out of today with your neck…"
"Um, thanks," he mumbled. He turned his back and sat down, turning to get his feet in the car. He sucked in a breath as he pulled the seatbelt across him, flinching when Derek shut the door loudly behind him. Stiles kept his hand on his stomach as Derek crossed the front of the car, sliding into the driver seat. Stiles closed his eyes as they took off down the road, taking deep breathes.
"So I apologized to Isaac," Derek said quietly, checking over his shoulder as he merged lanes. "I'm going to make it up to him."
"G-g-g-good," Stiles stuttered, his breath coming out in gasps. "Can…Can you slow down? Please."
"What?" Derek asked, looking down at his speedometer and then back to Stiles. "I'm not even doing the spend limit?"
"Please slow down."
"Are you okay?" Derek asked, letting off the gas.
"Please stop," Stiles sobbed and Derek cursed, pulling over to the edge of the room. Stiles' eyes were wide opened and he wheezed painful as his fingers dug into the armrest of his chair.
"Stiles?" Derek said quietly, reaching over to lay a hand one Stiles knee.
"I can't breathe," he whimpered. Derek cursed again, gently pushing Stiles forward to rub his back.
"Calm down," Derek said quietly, running his other hand through his hair. "Deep breaths, calm down. You're okay. Deep breaths."
After a while Stiles' heaving chest finally slowed down and his fingers unclenched from the arm rest. He groaned, biting his lip as he turned at the waist to glance at Derek.
"Sorry," Stiles mumbled. "It's uh…It's been a while since I've had one of those…"
"You've had a lot of panic attacks?" Derek asked and Stiles shrugged, hissing in a breath when it hurt his neck.
"I used to after my mom died. This time…Well the last time I was in a car I was too drugged up to realize I was in a car and the time before that I almost went through the windshield. So yeah, little freaked out."
"It's fine. But can I suggest keeping your eyes open? The car feels like it's moving faster if your eyes are shut. Are you good to go again?"
"Uh, Yeah. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. Let's just get this appointment out of the way."
"Good morning, Mr. Stilinski," the doctor said, looking up from Stiles' chart to shake the teen's hand. "And Mr…?" he asked, raising a brow at Derek.
"Derek Hale," he said, shaking the doctor's hand. "I'm the babies other father."
"Good to meet you. Now Nancy's came to numb you up already, am I correct?"
"Yes," Stiles said, reaching up to wipe some drool from his face.
"Good. Now you shouldn't feel any pain, but probably a lot of pressure."
Derek sat back and watched as the doctor pulled on a pair of gloves and fit two plastic wings into Stiles mouth.
"I don't know if you ever had braces," the man said, adjusting Stiles cheeks as he needed. "But this is similar to what's used when your braces are put on. This just keeps your cheeks off your teeth and out of the way so I can get where I need to be."
Derek smirked at the annoyed look on Stiles face, but stopped when the doctor actually started working. He could hear Stiles heartbeat speed up as the doctor pulled on the wires. It took him a moment to make his wolf realize that this man was helping his mate, not hurting him. Derek could hear Stiles' breath coming out in gasps and he sighed before reaching out and threading his fingers' through Stiles' hand that was gripping the arm rest tightly.
"You're fine," Derek said quietly and Stiles whimpered, squeezing tightly onto Derek's fingers.
"Almost done," The doctor said, exchanging instruments. "Aaandd you're done." He pulled away from Stiles, pulling the wings with him. "You might be pretty sore for a couple days but there's a refill on that pain killer. I'll see you in two weeks to take some x-rays to see how the healings going. From there we can set a date to unwire your jaw. How's that sound?"
"Good," Stiles said, his eyes down cast.
"Thanks," Derek said, pulling Stiles out of the chair by his elbow.
"Have a good day, gentlemen!" the man called after them as Derek led Stiles to the elevator.
"You okay?" the Alpha asked.
"I guess," Stiles mumbled, his arms crossed above his swollen stomach as he leaned against the elevator door. Derek looked at his watch and sighed.
"We have like an hour and a half before we have to be to Dr. Jeffers," the older man said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can take you to get a milkshake."
"Really?" Stiles asked, his eyes flicking up to Derek who nodded. "A peanut butter and banana one?"
"I'll see what I can do," Derek mumbled, leading Stiles out of the elevator and back to the car.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Dr. Jeffers said, a small smile on her face. "Good to see you in one piece, Stiles."
"It's going to take more than some psycho red head running in front of our car to keep me down," Stiles said, a small smirk on his face.
"Good to hear, sweetie. Now lay back, I want to make sure there's no bleeding or anything, okay?"
"I uh, yeah," Stiles said, swaying slightly as he slowly laid back and fitted his feet into the stirrups. He kept his eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath as she poked and prodded at him.
"Red head?" Derek asked, his eyebrows rising.
"Can we talk about this later?" Stiles asked, his eyes shut as the wand was gently slipped into him.
"Yeah," Derek said, squinting into the distance.
"There doesn't seem to be any leftover trauma from the accident. I hear my counterpart at the hospital let the cat out of the bag about the twins?"
"I'm more of a dog person, but yeah," Stiles said and Derek snorted.
"Well, let's take a look shall we?" She helped Stiles pull his legs out of the stirrups and pulled the sheet low on his hips and his shirt up. He stared at the screen as she squirted the gel on his stomach and rubbed the wand over it. "Here are the heartbeats, both sound very strong. Here's baby A and here's baby B. Do you two want to see what the babies are today?"
"Yes please," Stiles said after Derek nodded.
"Okay, well let's look a little closer at Baby A," she said, zooming in the screen. "Looks like Baby A's a boy," she said with a grin, pointing at the screen. Stiles grinned as Derek studied the screen. "And here's a closer look at Baby B…"
"That looks different," Stiles said, squinting at the screen. Dr. Jeffers let out a small chuckle.
"That's because Baby B's a girl, sweetheart," she said and Stiles face broke into an even bigger grin.
"Congrats, boys. You've got two very strong babies on the way. I'll print you some pictures and get you on the road. Congrats again."
"Wow," Stiles said, staring into space.
"Yeah, wow," Derek said, a small smirk on his face.
"She said we needed eggs," Allison said, pushing the cart and fallowing her dad up the aisle.
"Think you can make me some of those cookies you're so good at tonight?" Chris said and Allison grinned with a shrug.
"Maybe." She jumped when Derek came out of nowhere, his hands wrapping around the front of the cart to stop her. "Derek…"
"Mr. Hale, what do we owe this pleasure?" Chris asked, his head held high.
"You tell your psycho bitch of a wife to stay away from my back and away from my pups, you hear me?"
"I don't know what you're insinuating," Chris said, a brow raised.
"We both know she's the only once stupid enough to walk out in front of a car in the middle of the night. Stiles saw red hair. I'm not going to let her kill my pack like your sister killed my family, do you understand?"
"I'll pass the message along," Chris said, his lower jaw jutting forward when Derek's eyes flashed red before the alpha turned to walk away.
"Did mom really try to kill Jackson? And Stiles? And the babies?"
"We can't have him building up his pack anymore," Chris said, leading Allison towards the egg section.
"So she's going to kill unborn babies?"
"Don't questions us, Allison. Now get your eggs, mom needs help with the turkey."
"Derek," Steve said, nodding his head and stepping aside to let the younger man inside. Derek bit his lip, lifting up a Tupperware bowl.
"Sweet potatoes," he said with a shrug. "My mom always made them for Thanksgiving. And they're soft, so Stiles might be able to eat them."
"That sounds good, Derek. Thanks," Steve said, taking the bowl away from him.
"I also got him another peanut butter and banana milkshake. I know he's been craving them so I got it last night before Rusty's closed."
"I'm sure he'll appreciate it. You can put it in the freezer for now. He's in the living room watching the Macy's parade. The turkey should be ready soon." Derek nodded, slipping the cup in the freezer before entering the living room.
Stiles was sitting in the recliner with his feet raised and a hand on his stomach. With a closer inspection, Derek realized the teen was asleep. With a shaky breath he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and covered the teen with it, gently running a hand over Stiles' head, his fingers hesitating on the neck brace strap.
"I know this isn't easy," Derek whispered, perching on the couch. "I know I'm making things ten times harder for you and that you didn't ask for this. But everything's going to be okay. And I'll be there, every step of the way. You and the babies, okay? I promise." Derek reached up and placed a small kiss on Stiles' forehead before sitting back and crossing his arms, watching the television.
"So, twins," Steve said, sitting down on the other side of the couch, handing Derek a beer.
"Yeah," Derek said quietly, watching Stiles sleep out of the corner of his eye.
"I can't picture you with a little girl, you know," Steve chuckled, taking a sip of his own beer. "Can't picture Stiles with a kid period, but especially not with a girl. Should be interesting."
"Yeah, I guess," Derek said, cracking open the beer, glancing at Steve.
"It's okay, you're legal. I don't care if you drink here." Derek nodded, taking a gulp of his beer.
"I don't know if he told you, but I'm rebuilding the house. I bought it back from the county; tore it down; rebuilding it to match the old plans. The twins…The twins will each of their own room once they get older. And a play room. It'll be good."
"That's good. That's real good." Steve glanced at Stiles who burrowed in the chair a bit more. "I know this isn't ideal. I mean, he's a good kid but he's pretty hyperactive and hard to deal with sometimes. And I know you two weren't really close before this all happened, and hey, I was happy about that. I'm sorry, but having your sixteen year old running around with an accused murderer doesn't rank high on my list of okay things."
"I was cleared," Derek mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I know. Sheriff, remember?" Steve was quiet for a long time, his eyes trained on the last family picture they had taken. "Meredith died when Stiles was twelve. It…It was a pretty bad car accident and she fought as hard as she could for a month before we lost her. It was hard on both of us. But I promised her that I would keep him safe. That I would make sure he had the best life possible. And well, Derek, you were never on that list for the best life possible."
"I understand," Derek said, running his index finger over the top of his can.
"A baby at seventeen was never what I had planned for Stiles, let alone twins. And you've been making this especially hard on him, Derek, and I don't understand it."
Derek didn't say anything for a long time, staring at the same picture Steve was. He chewed on his lower lip, taping his fingers on his beer can.
"The last time I got close to someone," he started quietly, closing his eyes. "She killed my entire family. She burned them to the ground. I just don't feel like I can get close to someone again. Not after that. I can't get attached to someone who could just hurt me and leave." Steve nodded, glancing over at Derek.
"I get it. And I can't make promises, but Stiles won't do anything like that. Family's important to him, too." Right then Stiles whimpered, his eyes blinking open.
"Food?" he asked quietly, doing one of his awkward wired yawns.
"Almost ready. And it looks like you have variety, too," Steve said, climbing to his feet. "Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, homemade applesauce and a milkshake. All of which should fit through the wires."
"Awesome," Stiles said with a grin. "Happy Thanksgiving, Derek."
"Happy Thanksgiving."
Stiles sat down slowly at the cafeteria table, glancing around him as Isaac slipped into the chair on his right. Allison sat down on his left, chewing on her lip and pulling at her fingers.
"What's up, Katniss?" Stiles asked and Allison grinned at him.
"Um, don't get upset," she said quietly.
"Why do people think it's a good idea to something like that before saying something upsetting?" Isaac asked, pointing his fork across the table at Boyd who shrugged.
"What, Allison," Stiles said, pushing away from the table so he could turn and see her. His neck still hurt and he took comfort in the brace keeping him from moving it.
"So, um, the person who ran out in front of Jackson's car? It was my mom…"
"What?" Jackson said, his eyes going wide across the table from Allison and Stiles.
"Shit," Isaac said, reaching out and taking Stiles arm when the teen swayed.
"Your…Your mom? Your mom's trying to kill me?"
"Apparently she doesn't want Derek expanding the pack, including the babies. Derek already knows. In fact that's how I found out; Derek approached us at the grocery."
"Wait, Alpha's stupid enough to approach you at the grocery?" Erica said and Jackson shh'd her.
"She's not going to try anything again is she?" Stiles asked quietly and Allison took his hand, swatting at Scott when he tried to protest.
"I don't know. But we'll keep you safe," Allison whispered, squeezing Stiles hand. She bit her lip before bending down, her lips close to Stiles' stomach.
"Okay, woman, what are you doing?" Stiles asked, not able to bend down to see what she was doing. Allison grinned, placing a small kiss to his swollen stomach.
"Hi babies," she whispered. "Auntie Allie is so sorry her crazy bitch of a mommy tried to kill you."
"Don't say bitch in front of the babies," Isaac said and Stiles let out a huff of laughter.
"But Auntie Allie is going to keep you safe. She promises."
"You know, Auntie Allie," Stiles said, a small smile on his face. "You can make this up to me."
"Yeah? How?" She asked, her eyes wide.
"You can get me a peanut butter and banana milkshake from Rusty's." Allison snorted, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"I'll see what I can do."
AN: I hope you liked it! Please review. Thanks for all your support!