A/N: First of all, hello to all of the new readers I've gotten since season 4 started! So remember that time I thought I could finish this fic before the new season started? Hahaha, what a funny day that was. Anyway, yeah, sorry again for taking so long to get this up. I don't know why, but I had a really hard time with this chapter. I hope you all like it.

Stiles got a solid six hours of sleep that night, but those six hours were plagued by stress dreams. It was no wonder, considering all the time he spent worrying about Malia, wondering if she was hurt or sick or just too scared to change back. And then there was all that time he worried over the baby, praying she'd keep breathing as she should while the sound of the alarm still rang in his ears as he tried to fall asleep. He could hardly recall the dreams, other than them consisting of him constantly running from faceless creatures that chased him in the dark, which was hardly conducive to a good night's rest.

It wasn't until he coaxed himself out of bed, his body achy and tight, that he remembered the dream he'd been having just before he woke up. He'd been dreaming about his mother. Stiles showered and dressed, all the while wondering why that particular dream decided to return to him now, especially with everything else that was going on.

When he walked into the kitchen, he found his father already sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. Stiles poured a cup himself.

"Since when do you drink coffee?"

"Since I knocked up a werecoyote." Then without preamble, Stiles announced, "I had a dream about Mom."

Stiles waited with bated breath for his response. It wasn't like his mom was a taboo subject. They talked about her fairly often, but Stiles still avoided mentioning her at times. He hated seeing the heartbroken expression that could still flash across his father's face even after all those years.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Stiles pulled out a chair and sat across from him. "I think it was a memory, actually. We all went to the park. I played for a while, and then I went back to her and she was sitting on this bench. And I just remember her looking at me, so confused, and she asked me, 'Who are you? Where's your Mom?' Did that really happen?"

There it was, just the briefest flash of pain in his eyes. The Sheriff sighed heavily, "I don't remember that, but it's possible. That happened a lot . . . near the end."

"But why that dream?" Stiles wondered, mostly to himself. "After spending all day with the baby, I thought I'd dream about her. Or Malia. But Mom?"

"Have you been thinking about her a lot?"

"No more than usual, but since this dream I can't stop. I keep wondering how she would have reacted to all of this. What would she have thought I should do?" What his mom would have thought about the baby suddenly meant a lot to him, but when the Sheriff opened his mouth respond, Stiles gulped down his coffee. As he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he finally really looked at this dad.

"Hey, why aren't you in your uniform?"

"I'm not going in today. I want to go to the hospital with you."

"Dad, you really don't have to –"

"It's not all about you, you know," he smiled. "I have a granddaughter that I want to spend some more time with before . . . you know."

He certainly couldn't deny his father that. Instead of fighting it, Stiles nodded his head. He had to admit, he was relieved. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

"Have you heard anything on Malia?"

"Only that they haven't found her yet." Stiles and the Sheriff were back in the hospital, making their way to the NICU. Stiles was walking a bit fast, anxious to check up on the baby.

"Well, it's only been two days . . ."

"Yeah, but that's two days out of the fourteen that we don't have anymore." On one hand, twelve days seemed like more than enough to find Malia. But Stiles knew, just like with any deadline, this one would be here before he knew it.

Soon they were standing outside the NICU window and looking in. Stiles immediately noticed that the baby wasn't in her incubator. In matter of seconds he experienced many emotions: disbelief, confusion, nervousness and then fear, all of which were quickly followed by panic.

He backed away from the window. "She's not here."

"What?" the Sheriff asked, searching for himself. "She has to be here."

"Well, she's not!" He started to pace back and forth in front of the window, like maybe she was hiding in plain sight. Stiles's mind was spinning. He wondered if something had happened to her, or if she was already gone.

The Sheriff took hold of him to stop his pacing. "I'm sure she's fine. There has to be an explanation."

"Yeah." At that moment, he made eye contact with Maggie through the glass. When she saw his panicked expression she hurried to the door, and he ran to meet her. Before she could say a word, he asked, "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"Yes, she's better than okay, actually. She was moved to the nursery early this morning. I knew you'd come looking for her, so I stuck around. I didn't want you to worry –"

"Too late for that!" he said, breathless with relief. All of the terrible scenarios that had been playing through his head came to a screeching halt. "She's really okay? Still pink and healthy and breathing and still in this hospital?"

She assured him again that the baby was fine. The Sheriff thanked her before following Stiles, who had already taken off to find her. Stiles's mind was completely focused on one thing, and that was getting to her. Unfortunately, his body was not in agreement. Black spots floated in his vision and his chest was uncomfortably tight. He started drifting ever closer to the wall, until he crashed against it and slid halfway down. He tried to breathe normally and blink away the spots from his vision, all the while clutching at his chest.

The Sheriff was finally able to catch up with him at least. "You all right?"

"Is this what a heart attack feels like? Because I think I'm having one right now."

"No you're not." He studied his son, honestly surprised by his intense reaction. He knew Stiles wasn't heartless, that he cared about his baby and wanted what was best for her. But this was beyond mere caring, he could see that now.

"Then is this what having a kid is like? Do parents just go through their day having a million tiny heart attacks?"

The Sheriff chuckled. "That's not a bad analogy."

"Oh god," he groaned, sliding even further down the wall. His legs were shaking so much that they refused to hold him up any longer. "That sounds terrible."

The Sheriff went over to him and helped him stand up straighter. "It's not. Sure, you'll panic every time she scrapes her knee or bumps her head or tries to stick a toy in a light socket –"

"Dad, seriously, this parenting thing is already a hard sell for me, and that really isn't helping –"

"But then what you get in return makes it all worth it. To have that kind of unconditional love for someone else, so intense and so fast, there's nothing like it."

Love. Stiles swallowed over the lump in his throat and tried to play it off. "Wow, I didn't know you were so poetic."

"Come on," The Sheriff slung his arm over Stiles's shoulders, and they made their way to the nursery.

There were pros and cons to having the baby out of the NICU, Stiles soon found out. Of course he was so relieved that she was healthy enough not to be in there anymore. That was the most important thing. But since she was in the nursery, it was much more difficult to be with her. These nurses had no idea who he was, and even after he explained the situation they were still wary of him, but with the Sheriff there they finally relented. They let him in for twenty minutes or so at a time, but he wasn't allowed to stay in the nursery all day like he had in the NICU. Since Stiles didn't have his own room where they could be together, he spent most of his time standing just outside the nursery and watching her through the glass. He felt an almost physical ache at being so close to her without actually being able to be with her.

"Hey guys," Melissa said, walking up to join them. "My shift is about to start so I thought I'd check up on her. How is she?"

The Sheriff stood as she approached. "She's really good. She's been putting on weight and her body temperature is stable."

"But she still has apnea," Stiles said glumly.

"Yes, but it's a mild case," the Sheriff told her.

Mild or not, it was still scary. She'd just had an incidence earlier that morning. A nurse had let Stiles feed her, and then she was returned to her bassinet. Stiles had a hand on her chest, feeling it go up and down with every breath she took. He was then suddenly very aware that his hand wasn't moving anymore.

"She's not breathing," he whispered, then louder, more urgent, "Nurse! She's not breathing!"

The nurse was quick but calm, gently rubbing the baby's arms and legs to stimulate her breathing. Stiles could swear she was getting paler. He could feel his dad grip his shoulder, say over and over to him, "She's fine." He was sure he hadn't taken a single breath until she did. She'd only stopped breathing for fifteen seconds or so, but it felt like an eternity. The nurse assured him that she was fine, but she asked them to leave so she could do a full check-up. He let his dad lead him out of the nursery, but he could feel himself fighting every step.

That had happened nearly an hour ago, and he hadn't been allowed back inside the nursery since. They watched the nurse to take care of her, and she really did appear to be fine, but no one ever came out to update them. Since she was a Safe Haven baby, they had no obligation to keep him informed.

Melissa frowned at Stiles, who was staring at his feet. "Well, I was also hoping to run into the two of you. Apparently CPS was notified this morning, and someone will be by tonight to get her."

Stiles's head snapped up. "What? That can't be – it's too soon, isn't it?"

"It's hospital policy to release healthy babies after 48 hours. As of this morning, she was deemed healthy enough to be released. She was admitted around 7 pm, so that's what time –"

Before he knew it, he was on his feet. "No, she - she's too small. She can't be ready to leave yet."

"They wouldn't release her if they didn't think she was ready."

"But I just watched her stop breathing. How is that ready?"

Melissa spoke softly and calmly. She could always tell when the family of a patient was getting upset and needed to be talked down. "Babies don't stay hospitalized for apnea unless it's very serious. If her doctor thinks she needs one, they'll release her with an apnea monitor . . ."

Stiles wasn't listening anymore. His breathing was coming out in sharp, rapid bursts. He tried to calm down, but found that he was only growing angrier. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt such an intense feeling of anger in his life.

"Would they be doing this if she wasn't a Safe Haven baby?" he demanded.

"Stiles, I assure you, that's not –"

"No, I get it. Since no one's footing the bill, they probably just want to get her out of here as fast as possible, right? She's just some kid in the system now, so who cares about her?"

"Whoa, hold on now," the Sheriff said, but Stiles wasn't finished.

"I mean, shouldn't all patients get the same level of care? Maybe I need to ask for a second opinion, or a third, or how ever many it takes –"

"That's enough," the Sheriff cut in, his tone sharp.

Stiles stopped. He could tell when his dad was serious. He wondered if that was an instinctual thing all dads had or if it was something they learned, and the random thought distracted him enough to calm him down a little. His anger kept deflating bit by bit, and as it did the more embarrassed he felt. He didn't know where any of that had even come from, and he felt like an asshole for going on the way he had.

"I'm sorry," he told Melissa. "I don't know what happened. I wasn't yelling at you –"

"I know," she assured him. "I get it. You thought you'd have more time."

She certainly knew how to get to the heart of the matter. "Yeah . . ."

"Look, I'll go in and check up on her. See if I can't get them let you in more often."

"Thank you," he said and watched as she entered the nursery. As soon as she was gone, he kicked the wall and then immediately regretted it. He limped in circles and grunted through clenched teeth, "I hate this. I hate this."

And the Sheriff hated seeing his kid in so much pain. "I know."

"Couldn't we still get a second opinion? I really don't think she's ready to leave the hospital yet."

"We can get all of the opinions you want, but I'm sure none of them are going to be what you want to hear."

Stiles kept pacing and running his hands through his hair. Maybe the baby was ready, but he definitely wasn't ready to let her go. This was all happening way too fast. He thought she'd be in the hospital for another couple of days at least. But now that he knew she'd be in some foster home by the end of the day, he was definitely feeling the pressure to make a decision.

The Sheriff's eyes never left him. "Let's talk about this."

"Talk about what? At 7 o'clock tonight, she'll be gone."

"She doesn't have to be."

Stiles stopped in his tracks. He considered it for the briefest moment, truly considered it, but it just felt too ridiculous. He laughed bitterly. "Dad, come on, who in their right mind would think it would be a good idea for me to be responsible for another human life?"

The Sheriff sighed deeply, shaking his head. If Stiles was so sure that he would fail, there was really nothing anyone could say to change his mind. But he still had to try anyway. "Hey, I saw you back there. You were fighting for her. I was actually impressed."

"Yeah, what the hell was that, anyway?

"You were looking out for your child. That's what parents do."

"I'm not a parent yet, Dad."

"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that . . ."

Before Stiles could respond, Melissa returned. She waved him over. "She's doing great. You can go back in for a little while."

Stiles didn't need to be told twice. He was back in that nursery in a heartbeat.

Melissa was late for her shift and had to leave them, but thankfully Lydia arrived soon after. She and the Sheriff smiled in hello, standing shoulder to shoulder outside the nursery as they watched Stiles with the baby. Neither one of them spoke at first, but after a while Lydia said, "He's good with her."

"He is," he agreed.

"He texted me earlier to tell me they moved her here."

"Yeah, but that's not all that's going on." He recounted everything that had just happened, and her expression grew sadder the longer he went on.

She didn't know what to say. She just knew she didn't want him to be alone. "I'm going to go be with them."

"Good. Oh Lydia, wait. I was wondering if . . . maybe you could help me with something?"

She wondered what she could possibly do to help, but she was more than willing. "Sure."

Lydia walked into the nursery and stood behind Stiles. She peaked around his shoulder to get a look at the baby and wondered if it was possible that she'd gotten even cuter overnight. She was no longer wearing a hat, and Lydia laughed at the way her hair stuck up. "Her hair is so funny."

"Hey!" He said in surprise. "When did you get here?"

"Just now," she fibbed. She'd actually gone off to make a few phone calls, per the Sheriff's request. "Your dad told me what's going on."

"What's going on . . ." he repeated, looking down at the baby. She was awake but just barely, blinking sleepily and making sweet cooing noises. "What's going on is that someone from CPS is coming here to take her."

"But . . . wasn't that the plan? Didn't you decide to let her go to a foster home until Malia came back, or when you made up your mind?"

"Yeah, that was the plan. But the plan sucks, okay? Not surprising, since most of my plans aren't that great."

Lydia wasn't sure if she should suggest it, but maybe it was all he needed to hear. "So why don't you bring her home with you."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, backing away from her. It was amazing to him that even the mere suggestion was enough to send him into a panic. "You can't just say something like that and act like it's no big deal. There are a lot of factors to consider here."

"I know all the factors, but let's look at the most obvious one. You're clearly already so attached to her. Anyone can see it."

"Yeah, sure, I care about her," Stiles said. He could admit that much. "That doesn't mean I would be good for her."

"Stiles, that's almost impossible to ever know if you don't even try!"

"And then what happens when I screw it up? Because I will!" At the sound of their raised voices, the baby started to fuss. He tried to soothe her but wasn't very successful. "I'm sorry. Here Lydia, you take her."

They handled the transfer much better than the first time they'd tried. Lydia rocked her gently until she stopped crying. "She could tell you were getting upset."

"I'm getting upset with everyone today."

"Yeah, I heard you yelled at Mrs. McCall. A bit of misplaced rage, don't you think?"

"I wasn't raging against her. I was raging against the system!"

"Well, the system happened to be Scott's mom."

"Hey, I already feel like shit about it, okay? And I apologized. God, what in the hell is wrong with me? Is it possible for dads to go through hormonal changes too? Because I've gotta tell you, I feel like a friggin' basket case today."

"Actually . . ."

He looked at her in horror. "Are you kidding me? Really?"

She shrugged. "I think I read it somewhere."

"Oh god, just tell me I'm not going to start lactating."

He always had a joke at the ready to keep things light, to keep anyone from worrying about him too much. But honestly, he felt awful. His stomach ached, his head hurt, and he even felt nauseous. It felt as if he was coming down with something, but it was like no sickness he'd ever had.

Lydia watched him rub his eyes again for what seemed like the tenth time since she'd arrived. He looked so pale and sick and unhappy. She just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but she knew she couldn't make that kind of guarantee.

"Are you there now?" she asked.

"What? Oh . . ." It took him a moment to realize what she meant. She was referring to their conversation from the night before, "there" being the nervous breakdown he'd been trying so hard to avoid. "No, I'm not there."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should be. It might make you feel better."

"No," he insisted, stubborn as ever. "Maybe now I'll admit to being in the vicinity of there, okay? I might be circling the block, or maybe I'm just down the street, but I am not there."

He didn't know why he was so determined to not get too upset. He supposed a part of him felt he had to keep it together for the baby. He didn't think he was much in the way of fathers, but not having a total meltdown was his small way of proving to himself that he was capable of being strong for her. Of course, the moment he'd started to get upset, he'd handed her off to Lydia, which told him that maybe he wasn't as in control of his emotions as he'd like to be.

"Can I have her back?" he asked.

She was surprised by it, seeing as she hadn't held her for even five minutes, but she gave the baby back to him. She had a feeling it might be hard for anyone to pry that baby away from him.

Throughout the day, the nurses would let them stay in the nursery for a little while, but then they would soon ask them to leave again. This back and forth was making Stiles moody and snappish, no matter how hard he tried not to be. Every hour that went by, the more that feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach grew.

Other things were frustrating him too. He hadn't been able to speak to Scott since finding out the baby was being released, and he really wanted him to be there. His dad kept taking random phone calls, insisting it was work. And after Lydia got six texts in a row, he asked, not all that politely, "Do you have somewhere you need to be?"

"What? No!" she cried, putting her phone away. "It's just my mom. She doesn't know what's going on, and she has some errands she wanted me to run for her, but I'll her –"

"If you need to go, then you should go."

"Stiles, I don't have to –"

"Hey, I can't ask everyone to put their lives on hold for me, right? And if I decided to keep her, it would just be me doing this all on my own anyway, wouldn't it? Maybe I should try to get used to it."

Normally she would have a retort to sling back at him. Calling each other out on their crap was the nature of their friendship. But she knew how miserable he was, so she let it slide. Everything she was doing was for him, after all, and if this all went the way she thought it would, he knew he'd grateful.

"That's not true. Besides, your dad's still here, and I'll only be gone an hour at the most."

"Yeah, okay," he said. Stiles knew he was being needy and passive aggressive, but he didn't want her to leave. "Just be back before she's gone."

"Of course." She stood and stared down at him, biting her lip. She hated to leave him, but she had to go.

She'd been gone for over an hour when Scott showed up at 5 pm, looking tired and disheveled. Before he could say anything, Stiles jumped out of his seat and asked him, "Dude, where the hell have you been? I've been calling you. Child Protective Services are coming to get her in like two hours!"

"What?" Scott said, his mouth dropping open in surprise. "In two hours? But that's too soon, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, apparently not."

"No, that's not . . ." Scott trailed off, lost for words. He was supposed to find Malia for him, and he'd failed. "Stiles, I'm sorry. I should have found her by now. Maybe if I had this wouldn't be happening."

"Hey, come on, you tried. And maybe this would still be happening anyway, you know? If she's this hard to find, maybe I should accept the fact that she doesn't want to be found."

"We're not giving up on her! I – I still have time."

"Scott –" he started, but he was choking on his words. Finally, he managed, "In two hours the baby will be in a foster home –"

"But that's only temporary until we find Malia! Then she'll be back, and she'll want to see the baby, and then – and then you two . . ."

"We'll what, Scott? Decide to be teen parents? She and I have known each other all of what, three weeks? And now we're suddenly supposed to raise this baby together?"

"Look, I know it would be hard –"

"Hard?" Stiles said incredulously. "Try impossible! Because honestly, the more time that goes by, the more impossible all of this feels."

Scott stood there looking utterly defeated. He had no idea how to help him. "What do you need?"

"What do I need? I need someone to tell me what I should do!"

"Fine, I'll do it. Keep her."

Stiles opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. His dad and Lydia had both presented it as an option to consider, but Scott was the first one to finally say it outright. Scott's opinion came as no surprise to him though. He could see that Scott was already in love with her, and that in his own strange alpha wolf way, he already saw her as part of the pack. Scott was his best friend and he cared about his opinion, but Scott also wasn't the one who would be raising her.

"Scott, I can't do this by myself."

"You wouldn't be by yourself. You have your dad, and me, and Lydia –"

"It's not the same."

Scott decided to change tactics. "What about the fact that she's a werecoyote? Have you even thought about what could happen one day if she grows up not knowing what she is?"

"Of course I have." He'd thought about it a lot, but mostly in relation to Malia. How she'd grown up not knowing she was a werecoyote, which had inadvertently caused the death of her mother and sister and still left her wracked with guilt. He thought of how she had stayed stuck in the body of a coyote for years, unable to change back. He never wanted that to happen to the baby, but it could. He knew it could. The fact that there was even the slightest chance it could happen should probably be enough to make up his mind, and he felt horrible that didn't.

"And what about Malia? She's only been gone for two days. Maybe she's in shock and just needs some time. And what if she came back and her baby was gone –"

"Scott, I get what you're saying man, I do. But that's a lot of what-ifs and maybes when I can only get myself to focus on what's happening right now. Sure, it's easy for everyone to have an opinion when it's not their decision to make, when it's not your life that's going to completely turn upside down. I'm sorry, but none of you can know how hard this is."

They were both teary-eyed at that point and determinedly not looking at each other until they calmed down some. Then Scott went over and patted Stiles's back. He couldn't think of anything else to say but, "Okay."

Stiles took him into the nursery to see the baby. Lydia returned not much longer after that, apologizing profusely. He wasn't angry anymore, in fact, he pulled her into a hug so swiftly that it caught her by surprise, but she hugged him back just as tightly. And when there was only thirty minutes left before someone from CPS was supposed to arrive, Stiles and the Sheriff were allowed to be with the baby in the nursery one last time.

As Stiles sat there with her, he couldn't help but think about who she would turn out to be if he decided not to keep her. He wondered what her potential parents would be like, and what kind of person she'd become under their influence. He wondered if she'd like dance, or sports, or maybe she was an artist. Would she be a good student, a kind person, someone with a passion? He thought of every little thing that could determine what kind of person she would be, and he wondered how much of that would come from how she was raised, and how much she would get from him for simply being his daughter.

At that moment he recalled the dream he had of his mother that morning, and suddenly her words had a whole new meaning. "Who are you?" he asked the baby. Then he thought of Malia, or some other faceless woman who would take her place. "Where's your Mom?"

The Sheriff, who'd been standing just behind him, heard this and put an arm around his shoulders. They stayed like that for a while, until Melissa entered the nursery. The expression on her face said it all, so Stiles wasn't surprised when she said what she did next.

"Stiles, it's time."

A/N: It's amazing that no matter how much you plan out your story, it can still surprise you. Because yeah, this went to some unexpected places. And as always, thanks to everyone who keeps reading, reviewing, etc. It means a lot to know there are people out there enjoying this.