After that Derek realized he was a little stumped because he couldn't exactly take Beth for a walk, or watch TV with her, or read to her. "How about you tell me what you all did this long, cub?" He took her to the couch to sit and listen to her many babbles, not all of them making much sense but he could understand the gist of it. The adults babysitting her had been distracting her with little trips and crafts.

"I putted glitter on paper. Like crowns sparkly! Missa too! Glitter fall to floor aaaaaaall over, Fenny too. We shower. Grandpa No was to zoo, no petting the wolvies, I stroke bunnies and they are fluffies," Beth talked on, Derek half-listened, a big grin on his face, simply enjoying having his kid cuddled up against him and talking his ears off. She sighed midway in her story to wrap her tiny arms around him. "You poofed," she accused.

"I know. I was sick, cub, Stiles helped me get better."

"Like before, the bad place?"

"Yes, like before. And I'm not all better yet but I will try my very best for you and Stiles."

"The bad man hurted you," Beth softly said, pressing her face against her dad's neck. And as much as Derek wanted to lie to her and say it wasn't true, she'd know. Instinctively she'd know. He had never lied to her so he wasn't going to start that habit now.

"I'll be okay, Beth, like before. I'll be okay."

Meanwhile once Derek was seated on the couch, Stiles let the father-daughter duo have some bonding time so he went to the kitchen with his dad to catch up a bit while the younger Stilinski started boiling some water for the pasta and took the cheese out of the fridge.

"I was hoping you'd cook something..." Noah smirked to himself and took two beers from the fridge. As he opened them up, he walked over to his son and offered one of the bottles.

"I could tell from the hopeful look in your eyes," Stiles snorted and clank his bottle to the other before taking a sip. "Plus there's no leftover from Melissa in the fridge so I figured you'd want to eat a cooked meal. Will Mac & Cheese do?"

"Sure and hey, we ate the last of her cooking yesterday, so we weren't living on sandwiches or things like that," Noah protested as he sat down to the table to watch his son, sipping on his beer time after time. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a grey sweater since it was his day off.

In response Stiles snorted and drank some more before he began grating the cheese into a plastic bowl. "I sometimes wonder how you managed to survive without me when I didn't live here..."

"Hey, I can cook too if I have to. But I prefer your cooking, kiddo."

"Well, that's an awfully nice compliment from you. Also a very convenient one when I'm about to feed you some cheesy deliciousness..."

The sheriff simply chuckled on that then stayed quiet for a minute or two. Stiles could feel his eyes on him so he kinda expected the oncoming questions too.

"Are you really okay, son?"

"We're better. Or rather getting there. Derek's been through a very rough patch."

"So I've heard from Deaton and Chris. But I meant you in the first place... I was out there in the forest. Deaton was worried. And if he's worried, I'm even more worried."

Of course, he meant the scene of the destruction his magic had caused when he had lost control. The burned ground, bushes, trees and small animals which were unfortunate enough to get into the way of the blast.

Stiles cringed a bit and stayed quiet for a while, grating the cheese mechanically. "Yeah... I'm sorry about that. It hopefully won't happen again," he said quietly. "I'm paying more attention to my control. I'll be fine."

"You sure?" Noah asked a bit doubtful.

"Yes. I'm working on it and I think coming back here and being around you guys was a good decision for both me and Derek. It grounds and balances us better. We need to find ourselves again, be around things that are normal and what we are used to. To let our minds be occupied with other things than Hell, insanity and magic," he chuckled a bit dryly.

"Makes sense," the older man hummed and took a sip, but the worry didn't fully disappear from his eyes. Stiles was his only son and blood relative who tended to get himself into trouble. The sheriff had his reservations when his son fell for a werewolf and then started a relationship with him, also when it turned out that Stiles' dormant magic was awakened, but he wasn't going to try to forbid or meddle into such aspects of his son's life. After all, he was a grown man now and very much in love. He could recognize that in the way he looks at and acts around Derek. It's there in every little touch and the bantering. There was a time when he was like that with Claudia and seeing it now made him quite nostalgic, but also happy for the blabbermouth son life had blessed him with.

There was a murmured conversation happening in the kitchen, bits and pieces coming to Derek since he wasn't focused on it. Father and son catching up, nothing he should get his nosy ears involved in. It was important for Stiles to have his own moments away from the werewolf, to not be completely immersed in everything Derek because that's what happened. He was intense, he was often in a lot of trouble and though Derek hated being the center of attention, that's where he ended up a lot. The human didn't deserve to get snowed under or to use Derek's problems to pretend his own weren't as important. Something that happened often because Stiles was a nurturer and focused on others way more than he should. Derek was very aware of it, but unfortunately often got caught up in the moment just as much.

The scent of cheese and boiling water floated towards the living room, so it was close to dinner time then. He had no idea of time anymore when he mostly saw black, his appetite confused as well because it only activated when there was the smell of food to remind him it was there.

"Maccy Cheese!" Beth screeched excitedly, her sensitive nose picking up on it to eagerly rush over to the kitchen. "Daddy Sty I wants Maccy Cheese!"

Thankfully the toddler has never been a picky eater. In fact, Derek couldn't even recall anything she would refuse to eat. (Okay, aside from a few vegetables.) Meanwhile her father had some issues with too cooked meat, the smell of it upsetting his stomach so he was grateful for the meal choice. Beth only ate her meat really well done and after the very stupid welcome home event, a nice uninterrupted meal would be good. Taking hold of the white cane, the blind man made his way to the kitchen, only to be steered to a chair to sit in by the sheriff himself, a cold bottle of beer pushed into his hand.

"Okay honey, how about you help me make the rolls?" Noah urged the very happy and very in the way toddler. Not that the prepackaged rolls needed much help besides some time in the oven but it helped distract her for a few minutes.

Derek sipped from his cold beer. "So I've been thinking of starting up my own business," he announced, his idea of small talk.

"Oh? What kind of business?" Stiles asked a bit surprised, turning his gaze, which has been watching Noah letting Beth put the rolls on the baking paper while his dad switched on the oven, to Derek.

It was starting to feel home again, all of them in the kitchen, moving around, talking, the scent of cooking food surrounding them. Stiles smiled under his nose and stroked Beth's head. "Good job, princess. By the time the rolls are done, the Maccy Cheese will be ready too," he smiled at her and chuckled when he got his leg hugged in return.

"I hungry like a wolf! Rawr!" she giggled then ran to Derek to start climbing up onto his lap. "I drink too!"

That earned a snort from the sheriff and he started moving towards the fridge. "How about some apple juice instead of beer? You are too little for that yet," he said and filled her sippy cup before giving it to her. "I'm curious about that business idea too, son," Noah prompted Derek to continue while he sat down to his own beer as well.

Derek made sure Beth was sitting on his lap right so she wouldn't topple over, beer bottle put to the side so she wouldn't grab it and be content with her own apple juice. Some kids liked the taste of beer, like Derek always had because it wouldn't influence him otherwise. It was hard to say for sure, but since Elizabeth had the same rapid healing despite being hybrid, alcohol might not do much for her either. But it was better to make sure they would find out when she was old enough to drink and not when she was still potty training. Though at least that one went well.

"A tattoo parlor. Plenty of empty buildings in town and Bob had quit." Bob had been the local tattoo guy, a big burly man with an even bigger heart. But a little too free-willed type, and he had been forced to quit because he'd tattoo minors without a permission form from the parents. Like he had done with Scott McCall for instance. There hadn't been a new shop since then and it might not be much of an income but Derek would be able to help out werewolves with having permanent tattoos. "I've done the tattoos for the family."

And he knew he had a talent for art. Peter had always been trying to push Derek to pursue art, to leave town, go to some fancy school and live the artist life. He had always been convinced his nephew could be a success and that's probably why Derek had never pursued it much. He didn't want to be a success. Nor was there any time for having school or a career. Sure, he had finished his degree in languages at the Washington University two years ago but that piece of paper hadn't been used since.

"I mean, if my eyes will heal." If not, then yeah, a whole different plan was going to be implemented. One he didn't know yet. "And once Beth is going to school." Derek was going to be the stay at home dad because Stiles needed a job for some financial independence and he was too smart to not do anything with that brain of his. Being a detective meant odd hours while Derek could come in at the parlor on appointments and make sure they would line up with Beth's schedule.

"That's... actually a great idea," Stiles said, trying to contain his excitement and the hot images popping up in his mind. Even if he still disliked needles. "Hot too... Being the pair of the local tattoo artist..."

"Too much information..." Noah chimed in with a groan and made sure to drink some more beer.

"Sorrryyyy..." Stiles chuckled but grinned as he stirred the pasta in the salted boiling water. "But yeah. Dunno if you know it, dad, but Derek has a hidden talent of drawing. I had found some of his work at the loft. They are really good. And Derek, your eyes will be healed, I promise. I'll make sure of that so you can pursue this dream of yours," he told his mate, completely convinced that he can do it. Because he felt he can do it. As if on cue, a wave of his warm fuzzy feelings rushed through the bonds to Derek to reassure him that way too.

"I want unicorn tat!" Beth announced, making the adults chuckle.

"Well, that was to be expected..." Stiles murmured under his nose while his dad snorted behind his beer bottle.

She knew what tattoos were, even if she couldn't pronounce the word yet. She had seen the one on Derek's back and Stiles' too at the same place and over his heart.

"I know, sweetie. It's a good choice, but you'll have to wait quite some time until you are allowed to get one," Stiles said softly. "But you can help me draw my next one which I'll ask daddy to put on me, okay?"

"For realz?" she perked up, immediately stopping the pouting from being denied the unicorn tattoo for so long.

"For realz."

"We make you pretty!" she giggled.

"More pretty! I'm already pretty!" Stiles turned around with the wooden spoon in his hand, waving it around for emphasis and flipped his non-existent long hair, which, of course, made Beth chuckle.

"You funny, daddy Sty!"

"But of course! That's my middle name!" he grinned then turned back to stir the pasta. It was nearly ready for the cheese.

It made sense Stiles wanted more tattoos, it was part of being a druid, or at least the way he practiced it and Derek didn't mind. He wouldn't put himself full of them like most tattoo artists were, but if Stiles wanted to be covered from head to toe, Derek would support him in it. Not his skin, not his say. But he was glad they thought it was a good idea. And it was a possible money maker if he gained a good kind of reputation. Money he could put into the pack, regardless of how big it was going to be. The building needed a lot of work. The apartments were going to be fixed up and rented out for cheap to supernaturals. That was the plan, and that was what he was going to stick to.

It was curious that Stiles had found some of his work since the Hale had a tendency to hide it but he didn't mind, it was a nice thought that his mate thought he had talent for it and was supporting the idea of a tattoo studio. It was, of course, something for the future, but it was good to have dreams. He always thought he'd own a bookstore someday but books, as sad as it was, weren't the future anymore. People read on their tablets and e-readers and books weren't hot anymore but who knew? Maybe that was also something he could do: give meaning to all the empty buildings in town. More each year.

"We can get you a fake tattoo, Beth. They're called rub-ons and they will go away again. So you can be as pretty as Daddy Sty is going to be." Derek was mostly curious what kind of tattoo Stiles wanted since his were tied to his magic. The tree of life on his back and anti-possession tattoo on his chest. While Derek had the one he got as soon as he had turned eighteen, the triskelion which was his family's insignia. And that was the beauty of tattoos to him: like scars, they had meaning, they had a story. To be able to design one for others to signify their story was actually like being asked to make a new language in one picture.

He realized he'd love to put the family's insignia on Stiles, if he was open to it. Something to ask him when they were alone because it was a big commitment. And the ultimate show of marking his territory.

"I want that!" Beth wiggled excitedly on Derek's lap, happy that she was going to get that fake tattoo after all.

Noah just shook his head with an amused smile. "How's dinner coming together?"

"Nearly done, you starveling," Stiles chuckled, adding the cheese and checking on the rolls when the oven chimed. They looked good so he put on the kitchen gloves and took the tray out to let it cool on the counter.

Truth be told, he really liked the idea of Derek doing something with his drawing talent. Maybe once he could see again, he could use drawing as a therapy too. Stiles had read about such methods to deal with PTSD and he tried too, but he was no Picasso, so he gave up on that. But he had seen what Derek can do with a pencil, so he probably would be more successful in that. He made a mental note to mention that to his pair later. For now he busied himself with starting to portion out the food on plates.

"Alright, you hungry pack, go wash your hands then it's dinner time!" he announced.

Noah didn't protest and bribed Beth with a cookie after dinner to let him take her to the sink for the hand-washing. It showed on the sheriff how used he got to dealing with the toddler, but Stiles could feel from his vibes that he was more than happy with that. Which was a good feeling since it was important for Stiles that his father approved and accepted his life choices. He remembered that talk with him a few years back when he had essentially came out to his dad as a bisexual – which wasn't a surprise for Noah, at all. And his only concern was that he might not be a grandpa if Stiles ended up with a man. Well, that problem seemed to have been solved on its own when Beth waltzed into his life and heart. Stiles hasn’t seen his dad so happy in years.

With a smile on his face, the younger Stilinski served the food by the table then stroked along Derek's upper-arm as he sat down next to him, Noah already blowing on a spoonful of Mac & Cheese for Beth who was sitting in her high chair between him and Derek.

"Bon appetite!" Stiles said and carefully tried his cooking. "Damn, I can cook..."

Luckily for Derek, he had days to work on how to eat without it falling off or missing his mouth – as long as he did it slowly. He definitely had speared himself a few times with a fork when he had rushed eating and had completely missed his mouth. Now he was easier with it, not fluent but it wasn't an embarrassment anymore. Carefully putting a spoonful, testing it with a finger so he'd not get an empty spoon, he slowly brought it to his mouth, pleased when he managed. Now Derek knew how Beth felt having to learn to eat.

"It's good, really good." And it was one of Beth's favorite dishes so she no doubt was going to make her famous mess. Noah was used to handling it by now so the other Hale didn't interfere or ask since he could use a bib himself.

It was weird how Derek had accepted the idea that kids weren't going to be for him when he had realized after Braeden that women didn't do it for him anymore. Derek had always been pansexual, until the experiences with females had left damage, Kate and Jennifer mostly. He felt more at ease with males, or so he thought until sex hadn't been happening at all with his ex and he had been really okay with that. So when Lydia had offered to have a child with him, even though he had to have sex with her per her demand, he had accepted and here they were. No Lydia but a beautiful child which he hoped Stiles was willing to adopt once they had been married. He didn't want more kids of his own, but hoped Stiles wanted a few of his own with a surrogate to expand the family. Someday. For now, this what they had? It was all he needed.

It took a bit of fumbling for him to find Stiles' leg but once he did, or he really hoped that was Stiles' leg, he squeezed it fondly.

Stiles chuckled happily both from the compliment and the leg squeeze. He put a hand on Derek's under the table, loving the physical contact. It was a well-known fact that wolves liked to communicate through touches and in that he thought Derek got lucky with such an affectionate mate like him, because he loved touching in general too. Especially when in a relationship. So small gestures like this or stroking an arm or shoulder, or a kiss and grabbing here and there wasn't rare from Stiles.

Plus he could feel the content vibes from his mate. Yes, they were both enjoying this little peaceful family time, which deepened the pack bonds and it was kinda fascinating to Stiles, because now he could kinda feel that through Derek, too. If he squinted, he could faintly see the threads, like he did before with the mate and emissary bonds. It was intriguing, but something he was going to comment on only when they were alone.

The dinner was spent with some light conversation about what's been going on here and in town and also some laughing. Especially when Noah tried to prevent Beth from making an even bigger mess with the food. But in the end she got her extra cookie from him while Stiles loaded the dishwasher and packed away the leftover into the fridge. All in all, it was just the evening they both needed.

He volunteered to bathe Beth and tuck her into bed. By then Derek was there too and Stiles smiled as they both managed to fit on her bed so he could read a story for her while she was nestled between her two dads. Well, in the end, it took two more stories for her to fall asleep, but they didn't mind. It was clear that she was forcing herself to stay awake, maybe in fear that they'd disappear again by the time she woke up. It was a bit heartbreaking, but wasn't going to be like that, they assured her.

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