Scott McCall has been a particularly painful thorn in Derek's side for coming up two years now; in all honesty, Derek would be glad for Scott to remain a silent and invisible bottom dweller of his pack. He would gladly let he and his hunter girlfriend drift away until the memories and the connections begin to fade and they can begin to move on from the incessant righteous indignation and ridiculous morals that Scott brings with him.
Or, at least he would be glad for all of that, if he didn't find Stiles hovering over his number on her phone everyday for a week when she thought no one was looking.
Derek watched as Stiles blossomed, as she grew more confident and took walks out to the edge of the preserve with the pack. He's watched her get her magic under control at an unprecedented rate, watched her stomach grow and the love for the child inside her grow with it. He's watched her laugh.
Beneath that though, she has also lost something. A little of that extra spark, the sarcasm that used to be so fluent and the pure innocence that used to come from those memories of her childhood spent being foolish with Scott. Most of that is gone; not all, but most, and Stiles isn't quite Stiles without it.
She needs Scott back.
The pack is wary, to say the least, when he brings it up with them whilst Stiles is sleeping.
There is the expected of 'buts' and 'whys' and a particularly exuberant 'no fucking way' from Erica.
There is also the unexpected tug they all apparently feel, tense like a wire from his stomach and leading out along each of his members until it reaches Scott. Derek sighs, because of course it would appear this strongly for the first time because of a pack member he hardly even wants anymore.
"The fuck was that?" Jackson exclaimed, hand splayed over his solar plexus in exactly the same place Derek himself had felt it.
"Pack bond." Danny answers him quickly, face twisted. " Christ, i'm human and i felt that." Derek nods, taking glances around the table to see if he can find where it came from. It wasn't actually from Scott, stretching out in the other direction and reaching out to him, which means someone around this table doesn't like what they're talking about, or the reaction of the others in regards to Scott's return.
"It was me." Boyd, surprisingly, grumbles. His eyes are downcast, fingers twisting together tensely as he ignored the shocked murmurs and stares from around the table.
"Okay-" Derek hesitates, unable to fathom whatever feeling has now settled into the pit of his stomach, like uncertainty and residual fear. "Okay, so, why don't you explain what you're thinking. I called the meeting to find out how everyone felt about it, so.." He lets his sentence drop out and waits with the others who have their attention focused on their quietest pack member. Even Erica, practically glued to Boyd's side at any given moment, looks at him with confusion in the lines of her face.
"It's just.. Even after everything- after he was such an asshole." Boyd's voice is quiet and low as usual, but twined with frustration. "Scott's still- he's still pack, y'know? He hurt Stiles, and he hurts us, but we can still feel him and we can remember everything else he did to try and keep us safe, it's- we, Erica and me, we stayed after Gerard because there was something else. Something new, like-" The frustrated noise that escapes Boyd is expected, all of them feeling it in the new strong bond forming between them. "I thought we were becoming a kind of family. And Scott is included in that family, in the feeling of it in the pack space inside of me, whether he deserves it or not."
Quiet descends over the pack, most of them with their attention fixed any place but at Boyd. Beneath the table, Derek can just about see Isaac reaching out and twining his fingers with Danny on one side and Lydia on the other, and he can feel the spread of comfort that emanates from them all as it travels through them and into him, into all of the others. It's unexpected and discontenting to say the least that this would develop now, of all times. In all honesty, Derek had given up on even trying to find the line that connected them all; had figured that being such an untraditional and messed up group of humans, weres and whatever the hell else's would lead to more of a family group than the organised pack that he can remember from his own childhood.
The memories of shared feelings, images, entire conversations through just sensations in his stomach and his heart makes his throat swell closed. He tries to not remember how it felt when those lines were destroyed, leaving him with the damaged frays of Peter and the painful echo's from Laura.
He tries not to remember how it felt to lose those, as well.
"I think we should let Stiles decide." Isaac pipes up, fingers clenching and unclenching nervously around his pack members hands. "I mean, Scott would be part of this if everything that happened hadn't happened, and if Stiles needs him to help or whatever, then surely we shouldn't be deciding to keep him away just because we don't like him right now. Right?"
Jackson's phone, almost vibrating itself off of the table, interrupts the tense air settling around them. Even Lydia flinches. Derek breathes out in relief, thankful that whatever was about to be said or done has been delayed, until Jackson snorts and twists in his chair to look out into the hallway.
"You could have just come in and spoken to us, Stilinski!" He yells, and they all stifle giggles at the way Stiles evidently must drop her phone and scramble down from whatever step she had been sat on.
"Fuck you, Whittemore. The only way i ever learn anything around here is by eavesdropping." She leans against the doorway, avoiding all the places along her side that are still even vaguely sore, as she stares at them all. Her fingers, Derek notices, are splayed over the expanded expense of her stomach.
"Anyway-" Stiles continues with a flick of her hair. "Scott is going to be here in an hour so you all need to decided whether you're going to be here for that. And none of you are going to be assholes, understood?"
They all stare, wide-eyes and fish mouthed before she rolls her eyes.
"Understood?" She repeats again, eying them all a little more critically.
"Yes, mom." Jackson grumbles under his breath, obviously thinking Stiles wouldn't hear. The cup from the side board that is aimed at his head is testament to his absolute wrong-ness, and everybody lets the tension ease again as they laugh at his affronted face. Stiles doesn't even break out a smile for him, twisting on her heel and making her way back towards the staircase to collect her dropped phone and return back to whichever bedroom she was in beforehand.
"An hour guys, i mean it!" She calls behind her as she disappears from view.
"I'm sorry i need him so much." Stiles tells Derek as they sit in his room waiting for Scott's arrival. Derek can hear his can turning into the opening for the house, so they have maybe a minute, a minute and a half before he reaches the front door.
"Stiles-" He's glad that she talks over him, unsure of what he would have said.
"It's just – i know how much of a dick he was, okay? I get it, and it hurts all the time that he chooses his girlfriend of what? A year? Over me. But i get it, i think. And he's been a really shitty friend since Peter turned him, but before that? He was there all the time when my mom got sick, and when she died. And he helped me get rid of all the salty fatty foods when my dad's blood pressure got too high. I just- I miss him, yknow? Old Scott, that is. I miss him." Derek reaches out slowly, knowing that even now when Stiles is looking surprisingly comfortable that she will flinch at a random touch that was unwelcome. She has time to pull away if she doesn't want his arms around her, but instead she leans forward, sighs into his chest as she leans against him.
"It's okay, Stiles." He smoothes out the back of her hair with gentle fingertips. "If Scott's what you need then we'll make it work."
The sound of Scott knocking draws them out of their quiet, and Stiles sighs heartily against his chest before pulling away and muttering 'showtime' under her breath. Derek reaches out as she is climbing off the bed, one finger just grazing the skin of her wrist in order to pull her attention back.
"If you don't want to do this, it isn't too late. We can send him away." The smile she gives him is so uncertain and thankful that his heart thuds quickly in his chest, fingers twitching where he has pulled them back to rest on his thighs with the need to reach out and pull her back again.
"Thanks, but i gotta do this." Shaking herself off, Stiles makes her way to the door. Derek follows behind her a moment later, and pauses when she does, door just about to open.
"You'll stay with me right? You won't leave me alone with him?" Derek doesn't resist the need this time, reaches out with his arms wide enough that Stiles can see them clearly and leaving her enough time to say no before they come around her and pull her in quickly, her back to his chest.
"You know i will." He mutters into her hair, pressing a kiss to her scalp before he lets go of her again with a small smile.
"Come on, Isaac's let him in."
Not only was Derek staying with her, it would appear that the entire pack has found a way to cram themselves into the living room as Isaac lets Scott in and Stiles and Derek follow a moment later.
Stiles smiles gratefully to each member, and Lydia squeezes her fingers when they brush past each other. Jackson is standing to Scott's right, Isaac to his left, like prison guards, and Stiles lets out a choked and awkward laugh at the sight of them.
"Guys, c'mon, you're scaring the shit out of him. Sit down." Stiles moved to her usual seat, curled up in the corner of the sofa, Derek sat automatically beside her and pulled the afghan down across her. His fingers found her ankle beneath the wool, her fingers finding the pulse point in his wrist. Such a constant for them now that it's the one move they do without having the think it through and second guess it. Danny smiles at them, dimples popping in his face, and takes the final seat on that chair. Everyone else settles around them, squishing together on love seats and recliners until there is only one seat left, directly opposite Stiles. There is a coffee table and almost half the room between where Stiles is sitting and the last seat left for Scott, and Stiles rolls her eyes at them all.
"Seriously guys?" None of them look apologetic though, so she just sighs and rolls her eyes again before focusing on Scott, who is still looking dumbstruck stood in the middle of the room.
"Dude, sit down." She points at the last chair and Scott goes where directed, sitting on the edge like he's waiting for something bad to happen.
An uneasy silence falls over them, Scott on the receiving end of seven glares and Stiles trying to block the feelings and images flooding in from the thoughts of her pack. Jackson grumbles under his breath when Scott shifts in his seat, and Stiles has to stifle a giggle when Lydia pinches his thigh in warning.
"Stiles-"
"Scott-" There is a moment where they pause, waiting for the other to talk, before they both burst out into awkward laughter, glancing up at each other as they try to get it under control. The others stare at them like they have gone crazy, Derek's hand on her ankle tightens for a second before she graces him with a glance and a happy nod.
"You go." Stiles nods at Scott once the laughter has settled down, relaxing back into the sofa as the thoughts from the people around the room quieten into an uneasy sense of relaxation.
"Okay, well, um. I guess i just wanted to, make sure you were okay? And tell you that i'm sorry." Scott drops his eyes to his fingers, entwined in his lap, and they stay fixated there. "I know that i messed up and you got hurt, and that i hurt you. And i'd, um, i'd totally understand if you never wanted to see me again or whatever."
"You're such a dumbass." Stiles retorts, making Scott flinch. There are at least three distinct grunts of agreement from around the room, which Stiles can identify as being from at least Jackson and Danny. She sends glares their way.
"You're such a freaking dumbass, McCall, and yeah you've been a really shitty pack member and an even worse friend, i'm totally not denying that. And it's going to take such a long time and so, so many curly fries before you can even consider yourself anywhere near forgiven, but man, c'mon. You're my best friend, you always have been, girlfriends or not, okay?"
The hopeful look that Scott throws her is almost painful to look at, wide puppy dog eyes brimming with wet tears and he smiles wide but uncertain at her.
"Stiles-"
"Look, okay, i've been doing pretty good at getting past all of this without you, alright? But that doesn't mean i wanted to. And this-" She prods at her swollen abdomen. "Will be here in like, t-minus three months. And honestly, i don't want him or her to be born and then not know their uncle Scott. So get your shit together so we can get back to us, man."
Scott blinks furiously before giving up on trying not to cry, instead he grins and lets the tears still in his eyes fall.
"Yeah." Scott chokes out. "Yeah, okay. Th-thank you." Stiles returns his grin, before a yawn catches her off guard.
"I'm a little tired today, so, maybe you could come back next week? I think we're trying to get my dad around for dinner next Tuesday?" She turns to look at Derek for confirmation and gives him a relieved smile when he just nods and tightens his fingers on her ankle in support once again before turning to look back at Scott. "So, you should come then?" Scott nods, stands uncertainly because this is clearly Stiles dismissing him for the evening. Derek can feel her exhaustion, and wonder how he missed her becoming so run down in such a short space of time.
Scott lingers in the doorway, glances behind him to look at Stiles again. Everyone else is glaring at him, but Stiles rolls her eyes good naturedly and struggles from the sofa with Derek's help to cross the room to him. It's an unusual occurrence for Stiles to instigate a hug, but she reaches out a wraps her arms tightly around him. Muttering 'idiot' under her breath when he rests his forehead against hers. Eventually, she pulls away, but Scott's hand brushes her swollen stomach as they step apart and he smiles gently at her.
"You're gonna be amazing, y'know." Stiles laughs freely at him, punches him in the shoulder and turns around to go back to the chair and curl up next to Derek again, burying her face into his neck as Scott makes his way down the entry-way. Both Boyd and Lydia climb out of their chairs to follow him, and although they aren't who Stiles expected to go, she makes no move to stop them. She knew it was going to happen.
"Thank you." She mutters into Derek's chest as she folds herself into him. He lets his fingers trail over the still too prominent protrusion of her spine, leeches out some of the pain that still lingers under her skin.
"I just hope he lives up to your expectations." He replies before shifting and letting Stiles adjust until she is in the right position for him to lift her gently. She recalls a time he did this, before- before- and how much she had been annoyed at the treatment. Now, she just leans into it with a sleepy smile and a yawn.
"I didn't know i was so-" Another yawn escapes her. "Tired."
Derek doesn't reply, just continues up towards a bedroom to lay her down in.
Scott knows there will be people following him out, but he didn't expect Boyd and Lydia. He didn't expect Boyd to let Lydia take the lead position and he definitely didn't expect the looks of pure dedication and hope on their faces. He stops on the porch, lets them stare at him in silence for a little while.
"You have to be good for her this time, Scott." Lydia implores, arms crossed over her chest. "You have to be really, really great. Don't ever hurt her like that again because it's been almost a year since we've heard her laugh that much in one hour. You can't go again."
"I vouched for you. Don't make me regret it." Boyd continues, low voice rumbling in the quiet of the forest. Scott lets the shock show on his face, lets the gratefulness for the acceptance and their minute support echo in the reassurances he gives them.
"I won't ever hurt her again." He replies earnestly, but all he gets is a nod and a scowl in his direction before both of them turn and disappear back into the house.
Scott stands there on that porch for what must be at least ten minutes trying to process everything that just happened, but it's too much. He doesn't know how much to worry about the future or how much he has really been accepted. He isn't sure about how much effort it's going to take to be trusted again, or how hard he will have to work to have him and Stiles back to being ScottAndStiles.
None of that really matters though, when the feel of Stiles' arms are still around him and the image of her smiling face is still fresh in his memory and her scent is still clinging to his hoodie. Instead, he lets it go for now and hopes for the best.
Nothing else really matters, now that he knows he is being forgiven.