An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Title: Like A Heart Attack
Archive Warnings: Underage
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Alan Deaton, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski
Additional Tags: Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Community: mpregbigbang, Mpreg, Humor, Romance, Bad Haiku, revenge via ringback tone
Summary: Derek asks Stiles to help him prepare for the Alpha pack, including becoming his mate. Neither of them are prepared for what happens after. Derek's got his hands full with the Alpha pack, his idiot teen betas, and a suddenly pregnant teenager for a mate. Stiles, meanwhile, is tremendously bitter he can't try out for the cast of Teen Mom if he has to put up with being pregnant during high school.
No references to season three spoilers. I've deliberately avoided including things not found in the aired seasons 1/2.
Written for The MpregBigBang Community.
Stiles decided after the night in the warehouse, which he referred to accurately as Night of the Annoyingly Living Dead, that he was done. So completely done that he was beef jerky-level done. There weren't enough words to describe how much his life sucked since Scott had been bitten and he met Derek Hale. But it could be summed up as a lot. A whole hell of a lot. He vowed to himself to never let himself get involved with Derek's supernatural drama again. Because, seriously.
Which was why when Derek showed up at his house four days later and said, "Stiles, I need you to research something for me," Stiles responded with a calm and decisive, "How is this my life? Okay, fine, you are so useless without me, whaddya need?" because he was not only stupid, he was also a masochist. Christ.
The truth was he maybe had the tiniest little soft spot for Derek. Microscopic. And also the likelihood of Derek's current problems becoming Scott's problems, which meant they'd end up his problems anyhow, was exceedingly high. It was just more efficient this way.
Derek plopped down heavily onto his bed and sighed, eyes on the ceiling. "There's an Alpha pack in town and I need to know more about them and if there's a way to become more powerful that I don't already know about."
"Wait, wait, wait, back up a minute there," Stiles said, arms flailing as he sat up in his chair too quickly and almost fell to the floor. "What the hell is an Alpha pack and how is this going to ruin my life even more, because I know it will. Don't lie."
"An Alpha pack is pretty self-explanatory. It's a pack made up of Alphas," Derek said, in that frustratingly vague way of his that explained absolutely nothing at all.
"And so, therefore? Come on, man, you gotta give me more to go on than that. And I noticed you haven't touched on how this is going to ruin my life," Stiles pointed out, twisting his chair side to side.
Derek rolled his eyes. "Would it make you feel better if I told you that yours certainly won't be the only life they ruin?"
"No, Derek, that doesn't make me feel better at all. God, never get a job manning a suicide hotline, because so not the career choice for you, I don't mind telling you." Stiles slapped his hands down on his thighs and got to his feet.
"I'm going downstairs to get drinks and snacks because I have a bad, bad feeling that this is going to be one of those days that will be horrible and refuse to end and I definitely think I deserve some Cheetos at the very least. While I'm down there, do you think maybe you can summon up the will to answer some of my questions directly?"
"I'll give it my best," Derek replied, and then he kicked Stiles' shoe with his foot. "Get me something to eat."
Instead of telling Derek 'fuck off, I'm not your slave, thank you very much’, Stiles tilted his head and said, "Sure, what do you want?" because his brain didn't function correctly at all.
"Sandwich is fine." Derek shrugged off his jacket and basically made himself at home in Stiles' room, which meant he planned on staying for at least a few hours. Which meant that there was more going on than Stiles knew. It was generally the case, but Stiles figured there was a good chance that he could get more out of Derek if he bugged him long enough. "And let me steal some of your Cheetos."
"Righty-o, sandwich and stolen Cheetos, coming up." Stiles made his way downstairs and seriously considered asking his dad to send him to boarding school. Sometimes, it really sucked being the only person Derek Hale could rely upon because everyone else in his life was completely useless at most tasks involving thinking. In all fairness, Peter could think—far too well for Stiles' tastes—but he was bugfuck crazy and creepier than Derek by far, and that took some doing. Ugh. Derek's life. Which somehow infected his life. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
Stiles was tempted to make Derek a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on stale white bread, but his conscience wouldn't let him. Derek's two residences were a burnt out husk of his childhood home and a subway car in a warehouse. Stiles didn't even want to think about what else lived there. Neither of those places had been big on electricity, running water, and functional kitchens, or at least as far as he noticed. Derek probably subsisted on terrible instant foods with high sodium and no nutritional content. That and terrifying gas station chalupas.
Instead, because Stiles was a good, kind soul, and deserved to be canonized for all the shit he put up with, he made Derek a roast beef and cheddar sandwich on thick, tasty multi-grain bread, and topped it with lettuce, tomato, onions, and mustard. He also snagged a second bag of Cheetos so Derek didn't have to steal his, and grabbed them both a couple cans of Coke. He made it up the stairs without dropping anything due to ease of habit and found Derek was now barefoot and lying on his bed.
Stiles dropped the plate with the sandwich on Derek's washboard abs and put the Cheetos bag and Coke on the side table. "Sit up when you eat that or you'll choke."
Derek raised an eyebrow at him but obeyed, and Stiles tried to pretend he didn't sound just like his dad. To cover the awkwardness of it all, Stiles asked, "So, yeah, you also mentioned wanting more power? And you couldn't just ask Creepy Uncle Peter? Of course the reasons why that's a terrible idea are fairly numerous. His penchant for kidnapping...and murder...and unexplainable undead mindfuckery. You know what? Forget I said anything."
Instead of answering, Derek just ate his sandwich and glared. Which, cool, Stiles could work with that. If he couldn't work with being glared at by Derek, their association would have died seconds after trespassing on his property that first time. "Cool, so, I'll just start with the research. You can sit there silently and glare at me. Although, and I'm not in any way trying to pressure you, but if you wanted to, say, drudge up whatever acting skills led you to charm the Desk Sergeant that time and use them on me so I can pretend I'm doing this for a friend instead of the guy who crawls in through my window at intervals and glares me into submission, that'd be cool, too."
"You win," Derek said, and Stiles just gaped at him. "We're friends and I trust you. Now, if you shut up and get to work, I'll fill you in a little more."
"Do you actually mean that or are you just bullshitting me? I'm one of the unlucky few not born with a built-in lie detector." If Derek was willing to stop treating him like his very presence was a trial, Stiles could stop treating Derek like he was karmic retribution for crimes in a past life.
"Stiles," Derek said, exasperated. "Fine. I meant it. Just... Let's not discuss it anymore. Please. Do you want to hear more about what's going on, or do we need to braid each other's hair first?"
"You're just saying that so I'll do your busy work. It's okay. We can work on it. It'll be something to aim for." Stiles turned back to the computer and pretended he wasn't blushing. Next time Derek showed up, he'd force him to watch a movie, because Stiles could only benefit from having one fewer menacing relationship in his life. "What do you want to know first?"
"I need to tell you something first," Derek said, the barest hint of worry colored his tone. Stiles turned back around to Derek lying on his side, looking over at him, and he could see the debate war on Derek's face.
Stiles reached out and patted Derek's ankle where it hung off the end of Stiles' bed only to snatch it back at Derek's stony expression. They could work on casual physicality later. "You know you can trust me, and every single time there was a secret kept in this whole mess, it always came back to bite us in the ass. So, just tell me and we can avoid future misery, okay?"
"I think the Alpha pack have Erica and Boyd," Derek said, quiet, and before Stiles could jump out of his chair to do something, Derek held up his hand. "They're not in danger, at least not yet."
"Why didn't you tell us right away?" Stiles demanded. If he'd known earlier, he could have...well, he didn't know what he could have done, but he'd have been more than halfway to a plan by now at the very least. He didn't want to think about the last time he saw them, tied up in the basement with Crazy Grandpa Argent terrifying the hell out of them.
"They decided to leave," Derek said evenly, but Stiles could tell it bothered him. "It wasn't until I was out in the woods, trying to following the trail of the Alphas that I noticed Erica and Boyd's scents mingled with theirs. There was no blood, so I'm fairly sure they went with them willingly."
"Why does this not comfort me at all?" Stiles leaned back in his chair and heaved out a shaky breath. "Do you think they're being...tortured? Because sixteen is a little young to have multiple experiences with it. How we don't all have crippling PTSD is a true mystery."
"I'm sure they won't withhold information due to loyalty to the pack," Derek replied, rolling over and onto his back. "Since they decided not to be a part of it anymore."
"So, what you're saying is, not only do we have this Alpha pack here in town with some undoubtedly nefarious purpose in mind, but they also located two of the local juvenile delinquent werewolves who will give them any and all information they can? Wow. It's like a nightmare about a plague and I don't even have to worry about the sleep I won't be getting to experience it."
"We have time to figure something out. They won't make their move for a while. That's why I need you to find out what you can about them or if there's anything suspicious going on in town. And I want to see if you can find any ways I can become more powerful without adding new betas to the pack."
"Finally decided that picking your allies from disillusioned youth was probably a bad idea?" Stiles couldn't help but ask.
"I regret it every day," Derek said and Stiles felt a thump in his chest at the hint of Derek's sense of humor. Of all the things Stiles didn't need in his life this was right up there. It would only lead to humiliation and tears. He needed help in the worst ways. Why could he never get hot over someone normal? Because he was doomed to a life of torment and celibacy, that's why.
The smile Derek had on his face now suited him better than the fake one he used to flirt or the smug one he used to taunt Scott. Later, when Derek wasn't around to catch any sounds or scents that'd give his thoughts away, Stiles would maybe acknowledge wanting to see that smile again.
"First things first. What can you tell me about this Alpha pack? What are they? Why are they here? I'll do your research, whatever. But, I need to know where to start."
"I know a few things for sure, but the rest are rumors. I need to know what's fact and what's fiction." Derek moved to sit on the side of Stiles' bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "I know that the Alpha pack show up whenever werewolves find themselves on the radar too much. Beyond that, their methods, their numbers, their power are all speculation and gossip."
"One too many 'animal attacks' is the reason for this visit is what you're saying," Stiles said, resigned. They'd just finished dealing with the kanima and now this.
Derek nodded. "I've heard that they evaluate the packs in question and deal with them as they see fit. Sometimes, they leave without doing anything. Sometimes, they cull problematic numbers. Sometimes, they wipe out the entire pack."
"I regret every single time I thought werewolves were awesome," Stiles bemoaned, because this was going to be a disaster. He just knew it.
He was surprised when Derek perked up at that. "Are you sure you don't want the bite?"
"I thought you learned your lesson about biting teenagers," Stiles replied, shaking his head in mock disappointment.
Rolling his eyes, Derek countered, "You couldn't possibly be worse. I meant it, though. Do you want the bite?"
Stiles' eyes widened at the question. It wasn't as if he never thought about it, but so far the cons outweighed the pros on a fairly consistent basis. "Ask me again when we're not being threatened by an Alpha pack and there aren't crazy-ass Argent hunters trying to kill everyone."
"Okay," Derek said, shrugging. "It would just be better if..."
"If what? Not being as bad as Scott and company aside, there were plenty of times me not being a werewolf was a good thing."
"It would be better if you were in my pack." It was a pained admission more than a plea, but it made Stiles unaccountably pleased.
Stiles looked at him. "I sorta am already, aren't I? I'm also sorta in Scott's, too, I guess."
"It's not something you can do halfway."
He had one question and it would be a bit of a deal breaker if Derek said yes, but he had to ask. "Do I have to be a werewolf to be pack?"
Derek seemed to wrestle with that question for a moment, body tense, then he deflated. "No. I want to say yes, but it's not true. Just like you're in Scott's pack, you can be mine and be human."
There was a moment where they both just stared at each other. Stiles wondered if Derek was aware that he sounded like those cheesy twelve pack Valentine cards kids gave each other in the fifth grade, but stifled the line of thought before it set him off laughing.
"I'm just as likely to tell Scott where to shove it when his ideas are stupid as I'd do it to you. More often than not, I'm the one telling him what to do, because he can be an unbelievable idiot when it comes to ideas, Allison, and basic life preservation. But you already know that."
"If you were in my pack, I wouldn't stop you from helping him," Derek offered. "This whole trust thing would be easier if you were pack."
"Scott's not gonna join your pack, you know," Stiles said in lieu of responding to Derek's request directly. Joining Derek's pack felt right, despite everything, but it didn't mean Stiles couldn't use the reassurance that it wouldn't bite him in the ass later.
Derek huffed. "I know. Maybe it's for the best." Stiles wondered if Derek was thinking about how easily Allison's family had used him through Scott.
"It's a yes as long as it won't make me betray Scott," Stiles decided. If Derek could accept that, cool. If not, Stiles had managed just fine so far without official pack affiliations.
It was clear by the look on Derek's face that he didn't like conditions put upon him, but that was just tough luck for him. Stiles wouldn't back down from it. "It goes against the whole point of the hierarchy to let a human beta make conditions." Stiles tried not to look too disappointed, but Derek spoke again. "I guess I'll have to live with it. Try not to fight me too often. And no more secrets."
"I'll try," Stiles said, but they both knew that Stiles really didn't do the blind obedience thing. He could work on the lies and secrets thing, but only because it rarely turned out well. Stiles was nothing if not a pragmatist.
Neither of them spoke for a while. Stiles turned back to the computer and Derek brooded on his bed.
"I do have a question," Derek said, and it was clear that it had taken some effort for Derek to even build up to discussing whatever it was. "Did you know what Scott was planning in the warehouse?"
"You mean with the whole," Stiles made fangs with his fingers, "and my crazy-ass principal?"
"Yeah, that." Derek shifted until his knees were touching Stiles. "Did you know what was going on?"
Stiles shook his head vigorously. "No! I had no idea. If I had, I would have told him it was not only stupid, but suicidal. That everything didn't end in everyone's painful death is a miracle. You do realize that that asshole snagged me after the lacrosse game and roughed me up in his basement, right?"
Derek looked surprised at that. "No, I hadn't."
"I mean... I told you about Erica and Boyd, right?"
"Yeah, but... I guess I didn't connect that you were actually there with them."
Stiles waved a hand at him. "Don't worry about it. It was a crazy, crazy night. None of us were at our best and I was probably rambling at you. I tend to do that."
Smirking, Derek raised an eyebrow at him. "I hadn't noticed."
"Anyhow, point is, I didn't know. And I wouldn't have been okay with it. Dude was fucked up and if I hadn't been so completely terrified that he could hurt my father, I'd have delighted in getting his ass arrested."
Derek looked at him, but said nothing. Stiles got the sense he'd passed some sort of test, because the silence wasn't tense or fraught with the homicidal menace Derek liked to keep about him in his better moods.
"We could have an emergency clause, though," Stiles said after a few minutes of useless poking around Google. Derek didn't seem to be confused by Stiles jumping back to their 'want the bite y/n' conversation, so Stiles supposed he could stick around. "I'm not too keen on dying a virgin and oh my god forget I said that bit, but anyhow if there's a situation and it's the bite or die or something, feel free to bite me. And I mean that literally."
It wasn't until Stiles' dad pulled into the driveway that Derek got off his bed, shoved his feet into his shoes, and left via the window shaped doggy door with a terse, "See you later."
"Bye," Stiles said, even though Derek had already disappeared into the woods. His head was already buzzing with research angles, pack dynamics, Erica and Boyd, and what to tell Scott. Dealing with Derek could never be anything but complicated.
Just then, his phone buzzed with a text from Scott. allison wnts 2 meet l8r!
"Fuck my life," Stiles said, and headed downstairs so his dad wouldn't see the junk food wrappers in his room.
