"I'm headed out to the store. Do you need anything?" Stiles asked, shoving his feet into his shoes.
"Isaac's almost out of juice. Make sure-"
"To get the fruit punch, since he doesn't like grape. Already on the list."
"I was thinking of making spaghetti and meatballs for dinner."
"Oh, that sounds good. I can make some garlic bread to go with it. Thin noodles or thick?"
"Thick. And none of that jarred sauce."
"Sauce from scratch? Don't make me swoon," Stiles joked, resting the back of his hand on his forehead.
"Don't be dramatic," Derek huffed, rolling his eyes. "If you take the time to do something, you might as well do it right."
"That sounds oddly mature from you. I like it," Stiles grinned.
"Just go, before Isaac wakes up from his nap," Derek directed, pointing toward the door. Isaac had been small for a little over a week now and Derek was getting the hang of everything, but he'd still rather not be alone. And how crazy was it that his preferred company was Stiles Stilinski? That witch was dead if he ever got his hands on her.
"Yeah yeah," Stiles grumbled, waving over his shoulder as he walked out the door. Derek made his way to the kitchen, where the dishes from that morning were waiting to be washed. He swore under his breath as he stepped on an errant Lego, kicking it toward the pile of toys in the corner of the room. He'd take getting shot and slashed over stepping on those evil things.
Derek started filling the sink and looked around, wondering how he'd fallen into this domestic routine. Stiles would usually get Isaac ready for the day, while Derek cooked them all breakfast. Then Isaac would play for hours, before they ate lunch. It was a tossup if Isaac would take a nap after that. He wouldn't when Scott came around, riling both Isaac and Stiles up. He didn't come around too much, since he was putting in time at the clinic for Deaton, but Isaac had warmed up to him. Then it would be dinner time, followed by a movie and the bedtime routine. Derek and Stiles would sit on either side of Isaac as he laid in bed, reading him a story until he fell asleep. Stiles would retire to his dad's room, while Derek slept on a pile of pillows next to Isaac's bed. And it wasn't a nest, no matter how many times Stiles liked to joke that it was.
There had been no signs of the witch, even with Peter on the hunt now as well. If he really was trying. Peter was the type to claim he was going to help, then sit back and watch the show. And he was probably relishing Derek being in a situation like this, since his uncle was a petty bastard.
But as much as Derek didn't think it was possible, he was enjoying himself. If you'd asked him a week ago, he would've denied that adamantly. He probably still would, depending on who was asking the question. But this was starting to feel so natural that Derek was dreading going back to how it was before. Sleeping in an old train depot with a pack who was only with him because they had no other options. It wasn't their fault that's how they felt, since Derek hadn't done enough to bond them like he should. If he was the Alpha he should've been, Boyd and Erica wouldn't have taken off and Isaac wouldn't have been changed because of the subsequent search.
"Derek?" a quiet voice said from behind him. Derek spun around, finding a half awake Isaac standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was clutching his stuffed wolf and rubbing his eyes in a way that definitely didn't make Derek's heart clench.
"Hey Pup, what are you doing up?" Derek asked, drying his hands off on a towel. Isaac shrugged, padding over to the table and sitting down. "You hungry?"
"Kind of," Isaac admitted, kicking his feet a little under his chair. He still didn't feel completely comfortable asking for things, but he was getting better at it.
"How does a sandwich sound? Stiles is out getting stuff for spaghetti and meatballs for dinner."
"Okay," Isaac agreed easily. The kid could put food away like no other and he never turned down anything. Teenage Isaac was the same, which made it easier for Derek to throw whatever he had at him whenever he remembered to feed his charge. He was going to have to be better about that.
Derek got to work, putting together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich the way he knew Isaac liked. Heavy on the jelly with a thin layer of crunchy peanut butter. Cut diagonally with the crusts still on. A tall glass of milk and a few pretzels on the side for some extra crunch.
"Here you go," Derek said, setting everything down in front of Isaac, before ruffling his hair.
"Thank you, Derek," Isaac giggled, tucking into his snack. Derek stood back and watched him, trying his best not to be weird and overbearing. It was nice to see Isaac relaxing more and more everyday. At first, he didn't think Isaac would ever stop being scared of them, but the kid was tough. He had to be, after everything he went through. It made Derek appreciate teenage Isaac even more. His transition hadn't been easy and while he could've ran like Boyd and Erica or stayed an asshole like Derek, he chose his own path.
Derek's phone beeped in his pocket and he pulled it out, rolling his eyes when a text message from Stiles popped up. He'd sent a picture of a bunch of tomatoes with a question mark attached. Derek texted back saying that they were fine and to hurry up since Isaac was awake. Stiles replied with a thumbs up emoji and nothing else. Derek was changing his number after this.
"Want to watch some TV?" Derek asked as soon as Isaac finished up. His eyes lit up and he nodded, taking his dishes to the sink and straining to reach the faucet to rinse them off. He was still too small to do much, but that didn't mean he didn't try. Derek wondered how tall Isaac would've gotten if he'd been taken care of properly all his life. Maybe if he couldn't be changed back…
Derek shook that thought away, focusing on the present. Thinking like that was only borrowing trouble. They still didn't know if this curse had an automatic end time that would take Isaac back to his normal size. No use thinking of what could be.
"I'll take care of that later," Derek said, nudging Isaac toward the living room. Isaac darted into the room, climbing up and nestling down in his favorite spot. He liked to tuck himself against one arm of the couch, before gradually gravitating to the person sitting next to him and snuggling against their side. Stiles would pout when he wasn't the one in that position.
Derek flipped on the television, finding a rerun of The Magic School Bus just starting. Isaac squealed in delight, staring at the screen with his full concentration. If Stiles were there, he'd grumble something about screen time and Isaac needing to do something to stimulate his body and mind, but a little bit of relaxing never hurt anyone. This was just an extra leadup to movie night.
Derek was starting to doze a little on the couch when he heard the front door open. He turned his head to see Stiles bustling in with his arms loaded with shopping bags. How they had gone through so many groceries in so little time he'd never understand.
"There's my two favorite guys!" Stiles said brightly, before his face screwed up. "I mean- what? That's not- shut up, Stiles."
"That's the smartest thing I've ever heard you say," Derek smirked.
"Just for that, I'm going to swap out your spaghetti noodles for the ones made of chickpeas," Stiles threatened.
"You wouldn't dare," Derek warned, glaring over at him. He wasn't Stiles' dad. That crazy diet wasn't going to be forced on him. Werewolves could pretty much get away with eating anything, and Derek definitely wasn't going to deprive himself of something as simple as a regular noodle.
"I'm gonna go put this stuff away," Stiles grinned, sauntering off. Derek checked to make sure Isaac was still engrossed in his show, before getting up and following after Stiles. The teen glanced over at him and rolled his eyes, tossing the package of pasta to him. "Regular noodles. Don't get your panties in a twist."
"Panties? Really?"
"So how did it go while I was gone? I see you took advantage of me not being here."
"Isaac wanted to watch TV. I couldn't say no to him."
"I'm sure," Stiles snorted, stacking a few things inside of the fridge. "It's fine, since it's The Magic School Bus. That show is how I learned about the planets. And the digestive system."
"Wow, so interesting."
"I had the biggest crush on Ms. Frizzle when I was a kid."
"Is that how your obsession with redheads started?"
"Lydia is a strawberry blonde."
"Whatever."
"Stop giving me lip and start making me dinner. I expect to feel like I'm at the fanciest restaurant in Italy."
"Prepare to be disappointed," Derek replied, inspecting the tomatoes Stiles bought now that he could see them in person. He hadn't made this recipe in years. Not since his family was still alive and he had a full kitchen to work in. When it was him and Laura, they stuck to quick, simple things. Nothing that would remind them of everything they lost. But Isaac deserved to feel like he had a real home, even if it was temporary.
"These days, you rarely do," Stiles said, flashing him a look Derek couldn't quite read. He walked out of the room before Derek could question him, even though he probably wouldn't have. Stiles' opinion of him wasn't important. And if it ever was, he was really, really gonna kill that witch.
"Want some help?" Stiles offered, walking into the kitchen a few hours later. Derek only realized that much time had passed when he looked at the clock in surprise. He'd been so engrossed in what he was doing that it felt like no time passed at all. Isaac shuffled in behind him, before climbing into his usual spot at the table.
"You said something about garlic bread," Derek reminded him.
"Good thing you're not a vampire, huh?" Stiles joked, elbowing his side to nudge him out of the way of the fridge. How anyone could find Stiles funny was a mystery.
"Can I help too?" Isaac asked, looking up at them through his floppy curls.
"Sure, Pup," Derek replied, running his fingers through Isaac's hair while looking around for an idea. He didn't want Isaac near the stove, in case he got burnt. "Want to roll up some meatballs?" Isaac enthusiastically agreed, watching in complete concentration as Derek showed him what to do. His tongue was firmly caught between his teeth as he carefully copied Derek's movements, not setting the meatball on the platter until it was identical to the example.
"I have never seen a more perfect meatball," Stiles commended. Isaac was practically vibrating with pleasure at the compliment, immediately moving onto the next one. Derek stood back a little to watch, as Stiles babbled on about the cartoons they'd just finished, while he spread the garlic butter on the slices of bread. Isaac giggled along with him, happy enough to listen to whatever he said. It felt like pack. And it was starting to feel like something attainable.
Soon enough, all they were waiting for was the noodles to finish boiling. The meatballs were simmering in the sauce and the garlic bread was nice and toasty from the oven. The kitchen smelled just like his kitchen growing up.
"How do we know when the noodles are done?" Isaac asked, bouncing in his seat at the table.
"Well, there is one method we could use to see. Only the best chefs in the world know this trick, but I was lucky enough to find out too," Stiles said, trying to sound mysterious.
"Can I know it too?" Isaac asked with wide eyes.
"I guess, but you have to promise to keep it a secret," Stiles said seriously.
"I promise," Isaac agreed, nodding his head frantically.
"Okay," Stiles replied, walking over to the pot.
"Really?" Derek mumbled under his breath, making sure Isaac couldn't hear him.
"Oh no, we're having fun. Someone call the police," Stiles snickered, plucking a noodle out with a pair of tongs. He blew on it for a few seconds, before grabbing one end and flinging it at the wall. It stuck there for a few seconds, before plopping to the floor. "It's done!" Isaac stared in shock before bursting into giggles and falling out of his chair. He would've hit the floor if Derek hadn't caught him in time.
"I want to try!" Isaac exclaimed, bouncing over to Stiles in excitement. Stiles pulled out another noodle, taking great care to make sure it wouldn't burn Isaac's fingers before he handed it over. Isaac launched it at the wall, cheering loudly as it stuck. "I'm a chef!"
"Watch out, Gordon Ramsey! Isaac is coming for your crown!"
"Derek has to try too!" Isaac proclaimed.
"But-"
"Derek, Derek, Derek," Stiles chanted, egging Isaac along to join him. Derek bit back a scowl. There was no harm in goofing off a little bit. And it was nice to see Isaac enjoying himself so much. He sighed, grabbing one of the noodles and tossing it at the wall. When it stuck, Isaac shrieked in delight, jumping up and down.
"You did it! We're all chefs!"
"How about you sit back down so Chef Derek can plate our meals?" Stiles suggested, grabbing the sacrificed noodles and tossing them in the trash. Isaac hurried back to his seat, climbing into it like he was being timed. At first, Derek worried that Isaac moved so quickly because he thought he'd be in trouble if he went slow, but then he figured out that Isaac naturally moved really fast, especially when he was excited. The teenage version was easily his fastest Beta as well.
Derek set a heaping plate in front of Isaac, warning him to let it cool so he didn't burn his mouth. He blew on it like he was blowing out the candles on a birthday cake, puffing out his cheeks impossibly wide. He'd have to find out when Isaac's birthday was. The thought that it could've passed since Derek bit him without him realizing it made him feel surprisingly guilty.
"This smells amazing. Having to smell it for hours without being able to taste it should be considered torture," Stiles said dramatically, using his hand to waft the scent toward him.
"The sauce didn't get a chance to simmer as long as it should have, but I figured we wanted to have dinner before midnight."
"I'm fairly certain this is still going to taste good," Stiles insisted, twirling a pile of noodles around his fork and shoving them into his mouth. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he moaned dramatically. "Scratch that. This is incredible. You've been holding out on me this whole time."
"Why on earth would I have ever cooked you dinner before, Stiles?" Derek asked, ignoring the over the top praise. Again, Stiles' opinion was not important.
"To be nice? I don't know. But I'm demanding it now," Stiles grinned, slurping a noodle into his mouth obnoxiously.
"This is so good!" Isaac exclaimed around his mouthful, going at his plate full force now that the food was safe enough to eat.
"I think the meatballs are the best part," Derek said, winking at Isaac. The boy absolutely beamed in response, with a dollop of tomato sauce smeared on the tip of his nose. Derek had no idea how it got there, but kids seemed to have a supernatural ability to get dirty in any situation. He reached over, wiping Isaac's face with a napkin. It was probably a futile effort, but Derek felt the need to do it nonetheless.
"You're teaching me this recipe, I hope you know that. I'm not going the rest of my life without this sauce."
"Family secret, sorry."
"I'm practically family!" Stiles gasped, glaring at him. "Miguel."
"Doesn't ring a bell."
"Let's ask Danny."
"Let's not."
"Can I have more?" Isaac asked, pulling Derek and Stiles from their back and forth. He'd demolished his plate, looking up at them innocently with sauce smeared cheeks.
"Someone is getting a bath right after dinner," Stiles laughed, reaching over to wipe his face as Derek refilled his dish. The rest of the dinner went by with Stiles filling the silence as per usual, but it was nice. It was starting to feel like something he would miss.
"But I'm not tired," Isaac whined, yawning into Stiles' chest as he carried him to bed after his bath. He was dressed in a pajama set that was covered in little wolves. Derek had no idea where Stiles found these things.
"Trust me, when you're my age, all you'll want to do is sleep. And you'll curse all the time you wasted being stubbornly awake," Stiles laughed, digging his fingers into Isaac's sides until he giggled.
"Not me. I can stay awake forever," Isaac said confidently, as if his blinks weren't getting more sluggish by the second.
"I guess if you don't sleep anymore, you won't need any bedtime stories," Derek shrugged, making a big show of setting the book he had for the night on the bedside table.
"But I want to know what happens to Blue!" Isaac gasped, trying to wriggle out of Stiles' grip. Stiles set him down and Isaac scrambled to get onto the bed. He crawled under the blankets and stared up at Derek expectantly. "I'll go to sleep, but just for tonight."
"Sure," Derek smirked, sitting down in his usual spot on the bed. Isaac immediately snuggled up against him, resting his head on Derek's stomach.
"Your wolf," Stiles sighed, smacking himself on the forehead. "Let me go grab it." Derek started reading Isaac's book, falling into the comfortable rhythm they'd set. They were on the third book in the series, although to Derek, the stories were pretty much the same. Blue kept getting himself into trouble by making bad decisions. It was eerily similar to what they dealt with in Beacon Hills, except Blue always got his happy ending. Maybe one day they'd have the same luck.
Isaac's breaths started to even out after a few minutes, so Derek lowered his voice. Some nights it was harder for him to sneak away without waking Isaac, but he usually could if he made sure he was deeply asleep. Isaac rubbed his cheek against Derek's side, mumbling something under his breath.
"What was that?" Derek asked, tipping his head closer.
"I wish you were my dad," Isaac murmured, before finally falling asleep. Derek's breath caught in his throat and he willed his body not to tense up. He couldn't wake up Isaac and make him think he was mad about what he said. Derek couldn't verbalize exactly what those words made him feel, but anger wasn't even on the list.
Derek heard a gasp and looked up, finding Stiles standing in the doorway with a hand over his mouth. He could tell by the look on his face that he'd heard Isaac's sleepy confession as well. Derek carefully eased himself out from under Isaac, staying by the side of the bed until he was sure the boy was settled. He walked out of the room without a word to Stiles, making his way to the kitchen. He needed space to breathe and figure out what he was going to do.
"Wow," Stiles mumbled a minute later when he finally came into the kitchen. The toy wolf was gone, probably snuggled against the boy who continuously surprised him. There had always been something different about Isaac, but Derek never looked too carefully at it. He'd promised himself years ago that he would keep everyone at arm's length, no matter if they were pack or not. But Isaac had been the one to stay. When everyone else left him, Isaac didn't. Isaac helped keep him human. He was the one Derek could depend on during a full moon to help keep the others calm. Even when Derek didn't deserve it, Isaac was there. Derek had to do the same in return.
"I need to find a house. Or an apartment. Something," Derek muttered, staring at the table in front of him.
"Okay."
"He needs a home. I can't stay here forever and I can't take him back to where we were before," Derek continued, going over everything that would need to be done in his head. There was so much and Derek had never been the one to have to deal with this stuff before, but he was the adult now. There was no one to rely on anymore.
"Do you want Isaac to stay small?" Stiles asked suddenly. Derek turned to look at him, expecting judgment on Stiles' face. But all he saw was understanding.
"I don't know," Derek admitted, shaking his head. "When the curse first hit him, I wanted nothing more than for him to be turned back. To not have the responsibility of a kid who couldn't take care of themselves. For everything to be normal."
"And now?"
"What if I can save him from years of abuse? I had no idea it started so early," Derek ground out, feeling his eyes flash in response to thinking of Isaac's bastard of a father. If he'd known even a sliver of what he did now, he would've killed the man before the kanima ever had a chance.
"Are you completely prepared to raise Isaac as your own, for the rest of his childhood and beyond?" Stiles asked. If Stiles had asked this question a week ago, the answer would've been an emphatic no, followed by some sort of threat. But Derek was a changed man. There were a few moments in his life that had altered his entire being. Paige, Kate, the fire. This was one of them. And it was the only one he could confidently say changed him for the better.
"Yes."
"Okay, let's start looking," Stiles said, pulling out his cell phone. "It needs to be somewhere close, so I can be there after school and on weekends. And there's only one elementary school in this town, so zoning shouldn't be a problem. What's your budget like? Can you afford a three bedroom? I could crash on the couch, but I wouldn't be mad at a guest room I could use."
"Stiles, slow down," Derek huffed. "You don't have to do all that." Derek wouldn't hold it against Stiles if he took a step back from all this, especially when school started again. He was still a kid himself, no matter how much Derek was relying on him now.
"I'm in this too. You're not getting rid of me," Stiles said firmly, daring Derek to argue. He could admit that probably wasn't a fight he would win. And he kind of didn't want to.
"We can start looking for a place in the morning." Stiles beamed at him, before launching into a monologue about all the things the new place should have. Derek started tuning him out when he started talking about a swimming pool. His phone beeped in his pocket and he pulled it out, feeling a knot form in his stomach as he read the words on the screen.
"What is it?" Stiles asked, noticing his mood shift. Derek stared blankly at his phone, trying to figure out how he felt about the message he received. After letting himself dream of the future and make plans, this turn of events was very abrupt.
"It's from Peter. He found the witch."