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tamingthemuseTitle: families of circumstance [2/?]
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 504 - discombobulated
Warnings: AU. Season 4 canon divergent.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~990
Summary: Stiles comes home to a fully shifted Derek curled around Sadie and later wakes to the man making breakfast.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
-- = --
True to his word, Stiles returns home just before six thirty. He’s beyond tired and feeling dead on his feet despite the entire pot of coffee he downed over the last couple of hours. As much as Beacon Hills’ supernatural element had calmed down in the past year, the completely human one had started to fill the void. While the homicide rate and number of animal attacks were down, people continued to be idiots and assholes. Stiles had responded to two different intoxicated driver calls and a domestic dispute. And that was on top of his continued communication with the Mackenzie pack to determine what would happen to Sadie.
David had been fairly vague when he’d called Stiles, just gave him the basic run-down of facts about Sadie and her situation. As the night wore on and Stiles was able to dig into things on his own, he’d determined that it was unlikely Sadie would be returning to Sacramento—she hadn’t been part of the Mackenzie pack proper, but a smaller affiliated pack from Santa Rosa. Sadie’s father had been Alpha and both her parents were killed when he’d been challenged for the position. The new alpha would have killed her, too, if her father’s second hadn’t stepped in. According to David, it was something that wasn’t all that uncommon in old-fashioned packs, the killing of the children of the previous alpha by the one newly risen to power. It seemed rather uncivilized to Stiles, but he knew that his pack was a rarity with the amount of humans it contained, the varied supernatural beings, the circumstanced of its formation period.
All Stiles new for certain by the time he’d left work was that Sadie would not be returning to her old pack. If she went back to Sacramento was up to Alpha Mackenzie. But that also hinged on whether or not one of Mackenzie’s betas was willing to take Sadie in. Even David thought it was unlikely.
The little girl’s situation had been at the back of Stiles’ mind all night; the more he thought about it, the better off he believed she would be if she stayed in Beacon Hills. It was something he’d have to discuss with Scott before any decisions could be made, but he couldn’t think of any other pack that would be as accepting as his. They’d made many acquaintances and alliances with other packs and none seemed as open as the McCall pack. Which didn’t require a rocket scientist to figure out.
As he climbs out of his car, Stiles makes a mental note to call Scott later in the morning—possibly in the afternoon—after he’s had a chance to sleep. He tries to be as quiet as possible letting himself in, kicking his shoes off by the door as he locks it, then heading straight upstairs. He blames it on his absolute discombobulation that he doesn’t immediately process what he’s seeing.
Sadie’s snuggled up underneath the blanket on the futon, her stuffed wolf clutched in her arms. However, instead of a pillow, she’s resting against Derek who is curled around her in his wolf form. Derek lifts his head, barely more than a blacker shadow in the darkness of the room, when Stiles pokes his head in. “Hey,” he whispers. “I’m gonna sleep for a couple so if you could stay for a little bit longer…”
Derek drops his head back down onto his paws and Stiles takes that for agreement.
“Thanks. I’m sure I sound like a broken record by now, but I mean it. I really appreciate you doing this for me. I’m sure there’s a shit-ton of things you’d rather be doing, so. Um. But, yeah. Pancakes. There will be pancakes. Which you’re totally invited to stick around for. I’ll see you later.” He squeezes his eyes closed as he backs out of the doorway, shaking his head at himself as he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. Derek’s clothes are folded neatly on top of the toilet lid and Stiles moves them so he can pee, debates taking them back to his room for all of two seconds before he realizes that would be stupid and embarrassing and totally uncool. So he won’t be doing that.
Stiles sets his alarm on his phone and makes sure to plug it in before collapsing into bed.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he’s opening his eyes an unknown amount of time later, still feeling groggy as hell, to sunlight filtering through his crappy curtains and the smell of bacon wafting through his open bedroom door. When Stiles stumbles down into his kitchen, he’s not a hundred percent sure he’s actually awake because the scene in front of him is so absurdly domestic.
Sadie is sitting on her knees in one of the chairs at his small dining table as she eats little chunks of cut up fruit with her fingers. Derek—back in human form and his clothes from the previous day—is at the stove frying bacon and scrambling eggs while pancakes finish cooking on the electric griddle on the counter. “Just a few more minutes and this’ll be done,” Derek says with a glance over his shoulder.
“You didn’t have to…” Stiles starts, sinking into the chair next to Sadie.
A small hand is suddenly in front of his face, small fingers holding a slice of strawberry, offering the fruit to Stiles. Sadie pushes it closer to his mouth when he starts to reach for it, so Stiles bites it right from her fingers with a fake growl that makes her laugh. It’s almost as surreal as Derek Hale standing in his kitchen making breakfast.
A moment later, there’s a mug of coffee being placed in front of him and all Stiles think is, if this is a dream, he’d like to stay asleep a little while longer.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 504 - discombobulated
Warnings: AU. Season 4 canon divergent.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~990
Summary: Stiles comes home to a fully shifted Derek curled around Sadie and later wakes to the man making breakfast.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
True to his word, Stiles returns home just before six thirty. He’s beyond tired and feeling dead on his feet despite the entire pot of coffee he downed over the last couple of hours. As much as Beacon Hills’ supernatural element had calmed down in the past year, the completely human one had started to fill the void. While the homicide rate and number of animal attacks were down, people continued to be idiots and assholes. Stiles had responded to two different intoxicated driver calls and a domestic dispute. And that was on top of his continued communication with the Mackenzie pack to determine what would happen to Sadie.
David had been fairly vague when he’d called Stiles, just gave him the basic run-down of facts about Sadie and her situation. As the night wore on and Stiles was able to dig into things on his own, he’d determined that it was unlikely Sadie would be returning to Sacramento—she hadn’t been part of the Mackenzie pack proper, but a smaller affiliated pack from Santa Rosa. Sadie’s father had been Alpha and both her parents were killed when he’d been challenged for the position. The new alpha would have killed her, too, if her father’s second hadn’t stepped in. According to David, it was something that wasn’t all that uncommon in old-fashioned packs, the killing of the children of the previous alpha by the one newly risen to power. It seemed rather uncivilized to Stiles, but he knew that his pack was a rarity with the amount of humans it contained, the varied supernatural beings, the circumstanced of its formation period.
All Stiles new for certain by the time he’d left work was that Sadie would not be returning to her old pack. If she went back to Sacramento was up to Alpha Mackenzie. But that also hinged on whether or not one of Mackenzie’s betas was willing to take Sadie in. Even David thought it was unlikely.
The little girl’s situation had been at the back of Stiles’ mind all night; the more he thought about it, the better off he believed she would be if she stayed in Beacon Hills. It was something he’d have to discuss with Scott before any decisions could be made, but he couldn’t think of any other pack that would be as accepting as his. They’d made many acquaintances and alliances with other packs and none seemed as open as the McCall pack. Which didn’t require a rocket scientist to figure out.
As he climbs out of his car, Stiles makes a mental note to call Scott later in the morning—possibly in the afternoon—after he’s had a chance to sleep. He tries to be as quiet as possible letting himself in, kicking his shoes off by the door as he locks it, then heading straight upstairs. He blames it on his absolute discombobulation that he doesn’t immediately process what he’s seeing.
Sadie’s snuggled up underneath the blanket on the futon, her stuffed wolf clutched in her arms. However, instead of a pillow, she’s resting against Derek who is curled around her in his wolf form. Derek lifts his head, barely more than a blacker shadow in the darkness of the room, when Stiles pokes his head in. “Hey,” he whispers. “I’m gonna sleep for a couple so if you could stay for a little bit longer…”
Derek drops his head back down onto his paws and Stiles takes that for agreement.
“Thanks. I’m sure I sound like a broken record by now, but I mean it. I really appreciate you doing this for me. I’m sure there’s a shit-ton of things you’d rather be doing, so. Um. But, yeah. Pancakes. There will be pancakes. Which you’re totally invited to stick around for. I’ll see you later.” He squeezes his eyes closed as he backs out of the doorway, shaking his head at himself as he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. Derek’s clothes are folded neatly on top of the toilet lid and Stiles moves them so he can pee, debates taking them back to his room for all of two seconds before he realizes that would be stupid and embarrassing and totally uncool. So he won’t be doing that.
Stiles sets his alarm on his phone and makes sure to plug it in before collapsing into bed.
He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he’s opening his eyes an unknown amount of time later, still feeling groggy as hell, to sunlight filtering through his crappy curtains and the smell of bacon wafting through his open bedroom door. When Stiles stumbles down into his kitchen, he’s not a hundred percent sure he’s actually awake because the scene in front of him is so absurdly domestic.
Sadie is sitting on her knees in one of the chairs at his small dining table as she eats little chunks of cut up fruit with her fingers. Derek—back in human form and his clothes from the previous day—is at the stove frying bacon and scrambling eggs while pancakes finish cooking on the electric griddle on the counter. “Just a few more minutes and this’ll be done,” Derek says with a glance over his shoulder.
“You didn’t have to…” Stiles starts, sinking into the chair next to Sadie.
A small hand is suddenly in front of his face, small fingers holding a slice of strawberry, offering the fruit to Stiles. Sadie pushes it closer to his mouth when he starts to reach for it, so Stiles bites it right from her fingers with a fake growl that makes her laugh. It’s almost as surreal as Derek Hale standing in his kitchen making breakfast.
A moment later, there’s a mug of coffee being placed in front of him and all Stiles think is, if this is a dream, he’d like to stay asleep a little while longer.
