Note: This started out as a roleplay on Facebook, but grew into something massive and we thought with my writing partner that it would deserve to be turned into a Sterek fanfiction, so here we are. Enjoy the first part of the “Home Is Where the Spark Is” series!

Note 2: Since we’re continuously writing the story, the tags might change with time.

Note 3: We’ve put together a double album soundtrack for those who like to have some background music while reading. You can download it from HERE.

Fandoms: Teen Wolf, Sterek

Characters/relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Sheriff Noah Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Melissa McCall, Alan Deaton, Scott McCall, other TW characters, original characters

Rating/category: R (explicit), supernatural AU, post-Teen Wolf, canon and non-canon elements, slash, M/M, Sterek, aged up characters, established friendship, Spark Stiles, Magic Stiles, Emissary Stiles, Emissary in training Stiles, detective Stiles, matured Stiles, Alpha Derek, switch Derek, switch Stiles, occasional light BDSM and Dom/sub relationship, drama, epic romance, love, hurt/comfort, angst, dark, violence, fighting, magic, blood, gore, rough sex, heat cycle, dubious consent, accidental biting, PTSD, panic attacks, insanity, fluff, smut, knotting, soulmates, Mate bond, Emissary bond, Derek has a daughter, domestic life, werewolves, demons, witches, witchcraft, druids, rituals, pack building, supernatural creatures, humor, wit, sarcasm, Derek is Derek, Stiles is Stiles, miscommunication, werewolf lore, mysteries

Summary: A few years after defeating Gerard with the McCall pack (which had mostly scattered with time), Stiles had decided to settle in San Francisco as a successful detective. But a much needed visit to his dad back in Beacon Hills and an unexpected guest in the house changes everything in the two weeks he stays at home on their couch.

Disclaimer: This is a product of our imagination and was written only for entertainment and fun. We don’t profit from this fanfiction and we mean no harm or disrespect against any real person, culture or custom that might appear in the story. All original pictures and fictional characters used in the story belong to their respective owners and credit goes to them.

Full-sized pic by Useless-girl  

Home Is Where the Spark Is
by Just Jim and Useless-girl

Home, Sweet Home – part 1

Driving down the familiar streets after being away for months always felt strange for Stiles. Once he used to know every rock, every house, every fence and car around his neighborhood. But each time he visited, he immediately saw the changes. A new house being built, another getting torn down. Shops closing or reopening as something completely different than before. Kids growing up, others disappearing. Life was constantly changing. It was the law of the Universe or something. Everything and everyone was always changing.

He has changed too during the last few years. Since graduation, since college and his training. Everything that had happened before all that... all the adventures, the danger, the fights, his possession and near mental break down... the deaths and sacrifices... although terrible, those huge changes have helped Stiles to take steps towards the man he wanted to become. Not necessarily the blabbermouth powerless human he used to be. Damn, he knew that he had gotten lucky that he had survived all that and came out of it more or less sane! They all were. Well, at least those who did survive.

He often thought of the ones they had lost during the years. To death and to distance. Although Stiles threw himself into his studies then work to keep his mind busy and to focus on something he could do to make the world a better place, after a long shift or on a day off, he still wondered how things could’ve been if things went differently. There was so much pain, but good moments too. Love, friendship, companionship... And some he did let die himself. In other cases, he let distance make him drift away from others. Like his friends. Lydia, Liam, at times even Scott.

Like Derek. He stayed a sore spot for him. Even today. Because there was something... special between them. Or at least that’s what Stiles thought for a while. But Derek disappeared again. Without a word. It left a bitter taste in his mouth each time he thought about it. He blamed himself for this too, though. Maybe if he said something when he could. But... as they say, it was water under the bridge...

There was only one person with whom he always stayed close with and in contact. His dad. The good Sheriff Stilinski. Each time he was on his way home for a visit, Stiles had a smile on his face when he thought about him. Poor man. He not only had to put up with raising a little shit like him alone while fighting crime, he also had to deal with the supernatural forces wreaking havoc in town time after time. Stiles was so proud of him, though. Not many would have taken up that task to help wherever he could and come out of it in one piece. In their case, the apple certainly didn’t fall far from its tree...

His trip down memory lane was ended as he finally pulled up with his jeep to the driveway. For a moment he just sat there, listening to the sound of the cooling engine, the familiar chirping of the birds, inhaling the fresh air that blew in through the rolled down window and let the feeling of being home fill him, warm his heart. It felt good and calming each time.

Then the young man got out of the car in his white tee, black leather jacket, dark jeans and Converse sneakers to retrieve his duffel bag from the trunk.

“Honey, I’m home!” he yelled once he closed the front door behind him, soon being greeted with a bone-crushing hug from the surprised Noah.

“Son! What a nice surprise! What are you doing here?” he asked patting Stiles’ back a few times.

“Oh... did I forget to mention I’ll visit? Otherwise missed you too,” Stiles giggled mischievously just when some movement caught his eye from the corridor that led to the kitchen. It made him frown lightly and he got more on alert. “Hmm... do you have some shy lady friend over, dad? Because if not, I think we might not be alone...” he murmured into his father’s ear then let him go, his right hand slowly starting to inch under his leather-jacket where his gun was holstered.

"I should shave my legs then," a low voice rumbled from the doorway where Derek was leaning against it. At first he had been planning on hightailing upstairs but it was unavoidable to see him since the wolf was staying in the human's old room. One he no doubt was going to need for the few days he was going to stay over. But of course Stiles had to notice movement so that plan had been quickly abandoned.

It had been at Derek’s request Noah hadn't told Stiles over the phone, he needed time to heal and hadn't want to deal with curious eyes or calls yet. Lydia knew, of course, she was the mother of his child after all, and Scott. Not that McCall had been very welcoming. He had been happy to see Derek, had given a big old hug and warm chatter until the pack came up. In no uncertain terms he had been told by the true alpha that he was not to bother Liam or any of the pack. He wasn't even here to bother anybody. Beacon Hills had been the one place to go, where his loft was. Though that had quickly turned out to be a mistake. He had needed sleep, too much of it, he hadn't been able to take care of himself, let alone his daughter.

It was the Sheriff who had suggested for Derek and Elizabeth to move in for a while, since he had been a man alone and had wanted to help. With some reluctance, the Hale had accepted, because again, he didn't want to be a bother, not even to Noah. The first weeks had been rough, he slept more than he had been awake, his healing had been stunted, nightmares plagued him. And Noah had been a rock through it all, along with Melissa. The last week has been good, finally. Healing had returned, he could be awake the usual hours, eating had gone great. Derek was the first to admit he had lost more weight than he cared to, but he looked healthy at least.

The grey in his beard and the changed body were the outward changes he had gone through, the ones others noticed. Ones Stiles no doubt noticed. His pale green eyes took in the youngest Stilinski, and he couldn't help the amused snort.

"Taking a page from the Derek Hale dress code?" Stiles was dressed exactly the way Derek had been when they had met for the first time but it suited him now, it didn't look like he was playing dress up. The leather was old and worn, the sneakers obviously walked in, and he was taller. Nearly the same height as Derek. College life had treated the human well. Not a college kid anymore though.

Stiles froze the second he heard that familiar voice and the mysterious shadow took the form of Derek. He even had to force his mouth closed after a few long moments while he quickly sized up his father's guest. No witty comment, just staring shocked. He hasn't seen Derek for years by then. And for some reason those years had taken a toll on the werewolf. How was it possible that he looked... older? Slimmer? Like someone who went through hell and just stepped on the path of recovery? Oh man, they will have to explain so many things to him and his sharp brown eyes promised a grilling session for Derek too.

Though it wasn't just his changed appearance or that interesting dark/haunted look in his eyes that have rendered Stiles momentarily speechless. It was also the way his heart had suddenly decided that it was a good idea to go all haywire on him. (Probably not a secret for the super wolf hearing.) Gaping for another second or two, he tried to quickly control himself with a deep breath, his mind suddenly kicking back in gear, getting flooded by questions he needed answers to. Right now.

"Sourwolf?! Well, as much as it'd be hilarious to see you with shaved legs... what are you doing here? What is he doing here?!" he turned back to his father as he babbled in his usual fast way, looking from one man to the other. "And why haven't you told me he was back? Bad dad, very bad dad!" he lightly slapped the older Stilinski's upper-arm. "And in no circumstances am I copying your style. Leather and jeans are always in style and not exclusive to the mysterious brooding bad boys running around town!" he raised his chin a bit, waving Derek off with a hand.

For some reason Noah found the situation hilarious, because he dared to laugh in the face of his son's mighty wrath. The bastard!

"Sorry, son, I was asked not to say anything to anyone, really. He needed some help and a place to stay at and I offered it," the Sheriff shrugged and waved for the men to follow him to the kitchen for some beers.

"Oh noooo, nonono! You won't get off the hook so easily, old man!" Stiles snorted as he abandoned his duffel bag by the door and trailed after his dad, pausing only to narrow his eyes and point his long index-finger at Derek. "And you... you have a lot of explaining to do, Mr. Wolf-man..." Then he walked down the corridor to catch up with Noah. "Please tell me that my room isn't a wolf den now with Derek's scent and clothes all over everything?!"

For a moment, Stiles had stared at him intensely and Derek was half-expecting a remark concerning his looks. It was seen, it was noted, there was curiosity about it but not an actual word mentioned about it. Many seemed to avoid it, none said outright that he looked like shit. They were thinking it though. Maybe it was part pity, or maybe they weren't sure if he was ready to hear it, which meant he still looked sickly enough to be on the side of caution when dealing with him. The questions were going to come, it was Stiles, he was not known to leave anything be.

The familiar heart racing at the sight of him made him look down briefly to hide a secret smile. Like everything with this particular human, the heartbeat was irregular, hard to pin down for the werewolf. It skipped beats even when there was no talking so he couldn't always be sure of lies. At first Derek had thought it to be some kind of heart disease but he had learned from Melissa years ago that it was due to the ADD medication. It had some side effects, one of them being the weird beating of the heart, the quicker beat. Though he had heard it being steady too, it usually raced around him. Even after all this time he still made the human nervous.

"Hmmm." It was all he really said to the style defense because years ago he recalled Stiles mentioning how Derek was making a little leather-clad wolf biker gang of his own. Leather was warm when needed to be, not too hot in early spring, it protected against rain and was tough enough to not rip when running around in the woods. It was practical, and clearly the human being cop now realized it. "I asked him to not tell you, I wasn't ready for anybody to know so stop hassling your old man."

"What he said!" Noah readily agreed, probably just so he could avoid playing twenty questions with Stiles. They went to the kitchen and Derek followed with a shrug. "I've been staying in your room but I'll clean out soon, after I've rolled around in your bed some more with my scent." He could sleep on the floor in the guest room which had been turned into his daughter's own little paradise. Lots of pink and princess stuff.

The Sheriff was still amused, handing them their beers with a snort as he sat down, giving Derek a pointed look to do the same. Right. Sitting down one a chair, he unscrewed the top of the bottle, tossing the cap on the table. "You might want to air the room out, Stiles. I've been living here for about two months now, your pillow is all saturated with my scent."

"Fiiine, fineee!" Stiles finally threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes as he sat down and opened his own beer too, taking a quick sip. "I should have gotten used to you two always trying to keep me in the dark. And you two should have gotten used to the fact that I always find things out one way or another..." he pulled his mouth into a wide smile, taking another sip.

Which he nearly spit out from the very vivid image of Derek rolling around in his bed – for some reason all naked in his mind – to mark it with his scent. It wasn't exactly an... unpleasant image in Stiles' opinion and it made him swallow hard once the beer went down and he stopped lightly coughing. His room. Full of Derek's scent. That was something he secretly wanted to check right away, but he stomped down on that urge in favor of staring at said man with slightly moving eyes, as if mapping out all the smaller changes on his face which the half-lit corridor hid before.

They had to talk. Something was... off about Derek.

"Nah, man, I'm gonna sacrifice myself and sleep on the couch in the living room until YOU air out my room and wash my pillows and cover and sheet, Mr. Room Thief," he tried to keep the conversation light, for a change not sure how to ask Derek. It's been years, after all. Things have changed. Things have happened to both of them. Stiles might be... well, Stiles, but he knew that they just couldn't go back to how things were before Derek's disappearance then Stiles moving out of town. Those years could be felt between them in the air. Like an invisible gap. The old Stiles would've shot at least a dozen questions at Derek about his state in hopes of getting at least a sentence long answer to like three of those questions. But now Stiles hesitated...

"You can wash your own sheets, you're kicking me out of my room." Though the wolf wondered if this was a way to keep Derek in bed without acknowledging the fact, he looked like he needed a bed more than a couch.

"Your room? What?! Are you the new Stiles-substitute now that I don't live here on a regular basis anymore?" Stiles gaped and looked at the quite amused Sheriff. "Dad, is Derek your new son? You finally did abandon me and adopted him?" he made his lips quiver and his eyes big like a puppy who was just kicked.

"Stiiiles...." the older Stilinski sighed and rolled his eyes again. "Of course not."

"You better! I worked hard on keeping you alive while I was growing up. I deserve better. Have you been eating enough vegetables and fruits? Not too much red meat and fries, right?" he put his elbows on the table, putting the Sheriff under his scrutiny too, as if he was a suspect during an interrogation.

Derek noticed that as much as Stiles was attempting to hide his curiosity by not asking anything, the way he time after time looked at him closely betrayed him. It was like he was trying to put the Hale under a scope to make out all the differences and dissect him to find out the answers to all his questions. Unfortunately, those sharp eyes never missed details and he was known for connecting the dots quicker than anybody else. Already he had noted that playing twenty questions in his old hardheaded way wasn't going to work.

He had changed. Stiles normally wouldn't realize his questions would make Derek feel uncomfortable, he'd plow right on ahead without regards until he'd realize midway he was being an ass. Maybe he had learned to be more subtle? The idea made him smirk around the sip of beer, hiding it mostly thanks to the bottle. Stiles Stilinski and subtle, those two just didn't match, ever. But Derek appreciated the more cautious approach to it all. This wasn't something he was ready to be steamrolled about.

One thing people close to him knew about Sheriff Stilinski was that not much could get past him when he paid attention. And now he was looking between the other two before he felt like he needed to throw in a few questions of his own to take the spotlight off their guest. For now. The Sheriff saved the moment of possible PTSD rearing its ugly head by interfering, dragging the attention back to the prodigal son. God knows Noah had seen enough triggers happening to know when he needed to do some prevention. It still made Derek grumble inwardly, the fact somebody felt he needed to jump to his rescue, to be fragile enough to need said help.

"By the way, son, how come you popped up so unannounced? You usually let me know in advance when you come for a visit. And how long will you stay?" he asked then drank a bit.

"Sure, to give you time to clean out your lady friends before I barge in the front door to something I don't want to see," Stiles turned his attention to his father. "One time I don't call to surprise you and instead of some frisky cougars this welcomes me home?!" he gestured with an over-dramatic move towards Derek and the whole situation. "Oh well, I've learned my lesson, dad. Next time I'll call," he sighed with a fake pained expression, which only made Noah roll his eyes and chuckle a bit. "Otherwise I have a few weeks off. Order of my big boss," he saluted with two fingers against his forehead.

"Is everything okay at work?" the Sheriff asked with a light frown. "You never go on such long vacations..."

"Correction: I never take a day off. That seems to be the problem. Who would've thought that they don't like workaholics at the police?? Outrageous..." he muttered to himself. "But nah, all is fine. We just finished a few... difficult cases. I actually convinced myself that some time off will be good for me too," he shrugged, stealing a few glimpses of Derek while he was talking. Like someone who still couldn't really believe he was there.

Intensely listening to the father/son interaction, Derek felt those whiskey-colored eyes land on him often, as he carefully avoided to look at Stiles directly. "I'm sure they frown upon somebody working 24 hours a day, even when the overtime isn't paid."

A few weeks off. Did that mean Stiles was going to be spending those weeks here? Weeks of Stiles. Sure the younger man was no doubt going to meet up with friends to catch up. Lydia and Scott were still mostly here in Beacon Hills. But he wasn't working and Derek wasn't working so they were going to spend a lot of time together. Weeks with Stiles...

Mouth suddenly achingly dry, he took a big sip of the bitter beer as Noah beamed at Stiles.

"Glad to have you here, kiddo. You're staying here those weeks right? To spy on my food intake, make my life miserable at the station and talk my ears off?"

"A big fat yes to all of the above, father of mine. And I didn't miss how you tried to avoid answering my question. I'll cook tomorrow then," he announced, making Noah raise a brow and open his mouth to ask. "Yes, I can put together a decent meal, thank you very much. You both look like you need one," he cut in before his father could utter a single word.

"But why isn't he in the guest room? Why is he nesting in mine? What's with his loft?" Stiles suddenly flashed a suspicious glance at Derek, trying to put things together. "Don't tell me there's another pup in the guest room..." he drummed his slender fingers against the table top a few times. "You both are acting highly secretive and suspicious. So..." he paused perhaps for more effect but also to look more serious. "What were you up to in the past few years, Derek?" he finally asked the question that was on his mind the second he saw the familiar figure emerge from the shadows.

Weeks with Derek under the same roof... That... might be interesting. And complicated. But even the possibility made his pulse quicken again while he tried to focus on getting some real answers without beating around the bush anymore.

The duo was so alike in their mother hen ways, it showed now. Noah didn't correct Stiles on his eating even though the past weeks he had been making sure Derek was the one to eat well. Sure, there had been fries and red meats but also fruit and vegetables. And take out. He had a feeling Noah was going to attempt to hide the pizza boxes from yesterday as soon as he was able. Because those boxes weren't safe from the newly minted detective even when they were in the trash bin. Yeah, he could imagine the freak out commencing if Stiles discovered those. He sneaked a glance to the older man, who was pointedly ignoring to look at him, which made them both look like they were caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

And of course he was suddenly involved with the food discussion as well. Why did he have a feeling Stiles' new mission in life was fattening up Derek Hale? The Sheriff looked mildly relieved, no doubt having made the same kind of conclusion. Traitor. He narrowed his eyes at the older man who only, again, made a show out of not looking at him. Just wait, he was going to make sure to sick Stiles on his father, because he wasn't going to be suffering the nagging alone.

Oh god. Derek flashed Stiles a look when he asked if there was another pup in the guest room, again looking like he had made a grab for the cookie jar. How was it that the youngest in the room made the rest of them feel like naughty kids?

"I needed time to heal, Stiles. That's why I came back to Beacon Hills." Sort of. There hadn't been any other place he could have gone to to get help. Stiles was looking at him expectantly but Derek waited for him to drop the bomb as he was sipping from his beer. Because he deserved that much.

"My daughter is in the guest room." It didn't fully explain what he had been up to exactly. But some of it. "I have a daughter, with Lydia." Of course he was aware of Stiles' former crush on the redhead, but he had no idea there was a crush related to him as well. Honestly, he had figured his stupid fascination with the human had been completely one-sided and he had given up on that years ago.

The spray of beer reached as far as the middle of the table as Stiles literally spit it out all of a sudden, feeling like someone just hit him in the head with a crowbar while pushing him under a cold shower. He suspected that timing this information while he was drinking was Derek's intention all along. Yes, he was still Derek. Broody Sourwolf with his short sentences and giving out a minimal amount of information about himself.

As Stiles wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he started hearing white noise, like when your brain closes out the outside world before starting to faint. No, he wasn't going to faint, but this... Well, he never would've expected such an explanation. It completely took him off-guard.

His amber-colored eyes lowered to the table, but he made no attempt to wipe its top off. Neither did the other two men as an uncomfortable silence fell onto the kitchen. Stiles used that to try to pull himself together and push down the feelings of pain, disappointment and betrayal. His heart skipped a few beats again, but this time from the surprising intensity of these emotions.

Not that he had any right to feel that way. But knowing that his two biggest crushes had a baby together while he was away... it was a punch into the gut. Especially since it was probably painfully obvious for Derek too a few years back how Stiles used to run after Lydia. (Heck, they even shared a few kisses at one point.) Until some unknown feelings... some strange attraction has started growing inside him for the brooding man sitting opposite him. And as he finally looked up – only some of that pain reflecting in his eyes – he knew. He just knew that this hurt this much because those feelings were still there. The ones not even Scott knew about. No, his crush on Derek was something he hid deeply, knowing that nothing would come out of it anyway. He thought he had buried it deep enough. Apparently not.

"Wow... a kid... with Lydia... I guess congratulation is in order," he swallowed hard and forced a light tone and a suspiciously cheery smile on his face. "Didn't see that coming. At all. You as a father. And Lydia... I never caught a drift of you two... Not that it would be any of my business," his speaking sped up a bit, as if his frozen mind began working again. "This explains why the guest room is occupied and validates your right to my room. I'll take the couch," he said, but somehow his voice still came out a tiny bit flat. "Anyways... how old is she? And what's her name? I hope you didn't choose something weird for that poor child..."

At first, the way Stiles had choked on the sip of beer had been giving him a pleased kind of feeling. Until the emotions of the young human hit him full on long before his behavior could. With how they were all sitting around the table in a smaller room, the chemo signals hard to avoid, an inhale was all it really took. Stiles felt crushed. Shockingly crushed. If Derek had known the feelings of love for Lydia hadn't been over, that the former fascination hadn't been as former, he wouldn't have said it like this. Guilt settled in his stomach, it made him look down so he didn't have to watch Stiles come to terms with the new information.

This was why he avoided making connections. He absolutely failed at it, managed to foil any attempt at normal interactions. The silence stretched on for a moment too long, making his faux pas even more of a blunder as nobody seemed to know how to break through this. The human attempted to, with a fake smile which never quite reached his eyes, the tone of voice light but the werewolf could detect the slight tremor to it.

"It's not... we're not... She offered to surrogate for me. She's still single."

At least his voice sounded even as he said it, because he didn't want Stiles to know she was single. He didn't want to be the reason those two would get together and he didn't want to watch from the sidelines as that would develop. Not that it mattered. Stiles was still in love with her, he never stood a chance. It was Lydia Martin after all. A petite red-haired female with high intelligence and sharp senses – as sharp as her tongue. It was why he had agreed to her being the mother, because she brought good genes even though their daughter was a mini Derek and didn't look like Lydia at all. "Elizabeth, her name's Elizabeth Laura Hale. And she's..."

Great, explaining her age would mean latching into what happened. And Noah wasn't much help because he was watching this train wreck happen with a grimace on his face, like he was watching a boxing match to see where the blows would land. "She's a toddler," the sheriff provided.

"Kind of." Derek’s tone suggested it was complicated, because that's usually what happened with Derek. It was complicated. "I can sleep in her room, just... give me a day to get a decent mattress."

"Son..." Noah protested, because last time Derek had gone into town, it hadn't gone all that great. But Derek was tired of hiding in the house, so he nodded at the older man. It was fine, he could do it. "At least take Stiles with you tomorrow," the sheriff continued. It wasn't as much a suggestion as it was an order.

"Good for Lydia... I guess. If that's what she wants," Stiles said a bit unsure and quite confused from the way Derek found it important to say it out that she was still single. Not that it would concern Stiles as he considered Lydia just a friend for long years now. "And... it was very nice of her to offer to carry... your child..." he ran a hand through his already unruly hair, making it look even messier. "But... how... why... I mean..." Stiles paused for a moment. "I never saw you as a father figure with all the brooding and all... What made you decide to ask Lydia? But most importantly to have a kid?" he asked, unable to contain his legendary curiosity for long. It was also better this way. It helped subdue his stirred up emotions with which he knew he was going to deal with probably while lying awake for most of the night.

"I love her name, though. And I'm curious about her... I'm just surprised, shocked," he babbled, loosening his grip on the poor beer bottle so that now his knuckles weren't white anymore. He also took a long sip, emptying the bottle the fastest from the three of them.

Then of course he narrowed his eyes when Derek's comment hit his ears. "Kind of? What do you mean?" the youngest male asked, raising a brow. Frankly, probably both Derek and Noah would've been surprised if he didn't bite on a bait like this. Even if it wasn't an intentional bait.

"And absolutely not! The couch is mine, my room is yours so you can be close to your daughter! I refuse any kind of objection against that," Stiles lightly slapped the table top and stood up to go to the fridge for another beer for himself. He felt like he needed it...

The fact that Stiles was surprised to see him as a dad made him frown even though he didn't blame the human for it. With how he had treated his former betas, it was no wonder Stiles was confused about Derek wanting a kid since he never had radiated maternal instincts much. The past years had been different though, he had been different.

"She offered when she saw me with her other daughter, it took some time to say yes." For very obvious reasons. But he was good with kids, her other daughter was his goddaughter and he watched her often, considered her part of the family. "I've always wanted my own pack, my own family but I wasn't good at it."

He had never thought he had deserved it, because everybody around him got hurt. Because he had gotten his former family killed. Half the time he still thought that, but the other half he felt like he was doing well with her, he was doing something right, had something to live for, or die for. There was meaning to what he did, instead of only surviving one day to the next. At the rest of the questions, Noah stood up, reaching out to ruffle Stiles' hair because that mess couldn't get worse.

"It's getting late, I've got the early morning shift so you boys talk and we can catch up tomorrow, son. At dinner, which you're cooking."

The sheriff hightailed out of there rapidly, which was both a blessing and a curse for Derek. Maybe more of a curse at this point because now those sharp brown eyes were going to be solely focused on him. What were the chances Stiles was still a lightweight with alcohol? Probably slim to none.
 

Stiles was so focused on what Derek was saying and also thinking about what he was saying that Noah's announcement made him blink a bit dumbfounded and he needed a moment to make sense of what he was saying. "You bet, old man! You're gonna lick all ten fingers after it!" Stiles shouted after him then once his dad was gone, he did look back at the sitting man. Even a bit slimmed down and older-looking, Derek was a sight to behold. Making their normal-sized table look somehow smaller.
 

"You're not an objection, it's better for her to sleep alone. She's part werewolf, part banshee and is picking up on too much." Because Derek was a bit of a mess and he didn't want his daughter to pick up on his dreams. It had gotten better though so he didn't mind to try it, even if Stiles was adamant he was going to sleep on the couch.

Next part

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