Stiles is surrounded (yet again) by smaller people. As in kids. As in other people’s kids because he sure as hell doesn’t have any children. And he admits some of the kids are most definitely somehow related to him and can therefore be classified as his responsibility but that goes for about three of them. Where the hell the other six came from he has no idea.
Well, that isn’t exactly true. But that’s not the point. The point is Stiles can see the logic in having a snowball fight with his friends when the local High School is closed because of snow, but that still doesn’t explain where all the toddlers came from.
This is apparently his life from now on. He sighs. And gets hit in the head by a snowball. Isaac, that little midget!
It all began weeks before the snow even thought about falling from the clear, blue sky above their heads, back when it was still just a possible-will-likely-never-happen-scenario.
And in reality it began weeks and weeks before that as well because this can all be dated as far back as New Year’s Eve. New Year’s Eve that Stiles spent in the company of no less than seven toddlers and at one point also a two year old boy (named Liam) as well as Stiles two step-brothers, and three other teenagers. That New Year’s Eve where Derek and Stiles got into a fight and upset Isaac so greatly he ran away from home. That New Year’s Eve where Derek and Stiles exchanged handjobs in the upstairs bedroom while everyone thought they were fighting. That New Year’s Eve where they had to promise their younger brother that they weren’t fighting and they loved one another. That New Year’s Eve where Stiles fell asleep in Derek’s arm for the first and last time in his existence because no matter how madly in love with the older male he is their parents are married and they have three siblings and two nieces together and they could never intentionally ruin that – which is exactly what they’ll end up doing. That New Year’s Eve, yes.
Anyhow, for reasons unknown to Stiles the toddlers with whom he’d spent his utmost delightful New Year’s Eve (read: sarcasm so heavy it might threaten to actual choke him to death, rest in peace) had apparently – and again for reasons unknown to Stiles – told their parents they had a great New Year’s Eve and someone most have bribed them because not a single one of the seven have told their parents about Derek and Stiles’ fight or about Isaac missing for over an hour.
So it really all began that dreadful night. After that parents would occasionally come up and greet him and Scott when they were grocery shopping.
One time Mr. Argent (little Erica’s uncle) came up to them when they were in the middle of an argument over whether they could afford buying chocolate and chips and in that case where they could possible hide it so their dad didn’t find it.
“Mr. Stilinski and Mr. McCall, always a pleasure,” they heard a voice say behind them and they both turned around, suddenly face to face with none other than Chris Argent.
“Mr. Argent,” Scott greeted and even gave a nod that could almost be classified as a bow and Stiles’ eyes hurt from restraining himself from rolling them.
“How are you?” the man had continued and yes, talking to his brother-and-best-friend’s father-in-law was weird but stranger things had happened in his life so Stiles just shrugged and let Scott lead the conversation.
“It’s going good, sir,” he said. “How are you and Allison?”
“Well, since I heard you were on the phone with her just thirty minutes ago – “he had to give in, Stiles rolled his eyes – “I must presume you are already aware that she’s fine.”
Stiles, having decided he better join the conversation before Scott fucked up more than enough, said: “Our little brother has a crush on your daughter, sir.”
Scott sent him an evil glare and muttered “Stiles!” but Chris just smirked amused and said: “One of you are more than enough, thank you. It’s about all I can handle.”
Stiles smirked too and Scott turned red in the face. “He’ll be sad to hear but I better tell him the truth. Like ripping off a plaster, sir, quick and painful but it will spare him some heartbreak when he gets older and it will possible spare me some very awkward family dinners, too, so it’s a win/win, really.”
“Can’t argue with that logic. Actually, it was you little brother I came here to talk about. And my niece.”
“Erica? She’s adorable,” Stiles said.
“She is, and she told me – several times actually – that she and her friend Kira had a lot of fun New Year’s Eve. Her mother told me to thank you for inviting all those kids over when you would probably prefer being out partying and drinking.”
“I do not drink, sir, I’m still underage – “ Scott began but Stiles quickly cut him off: “Good thing she had fun, it was an, um, interesting evening for us, too.”
Chris nodded like this was easily imagined. “I have to get back to my groceries. Are you coming over for dinner, Scott?”
“Uh, yes, I’d love that, thank you – “
“Good, I’ll tell Allison. Come early I can teach you how to cook,” and just like that he was gone and Scott was turning paler and paler for every passing second.
“I can’t cook,” he mumbled.
“He told you he was going to teach you.”
“He’s going to stab me, isn’t he?”
“It’s possible,” Stiles agreed. “There’re a lot of sharp objects in a kitchen and he could easily make it look like an accident, bad luck and all that.”
“I hate you.”
“Nah, you love me. Now, come on we, do we need two or three bags of potato?”
And that had only been the beginning.
Next up was Jackson’s mother Mrs. Whittemore who they met a few days later in the aisle of medicine where they were definitely not buying condoms that it nonsense. She had seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she literally caught them in the middle of deciding between condoms with or without strawberry taste (“no, Stiles, just no” “come on dude, its strawberry!” “Its gross” “hey, it’s not gross!” “whatever buy them yourself then. Why are you even interested? You don’t have sex?” “very funny, Scotty boy, was that strictly necessary? I’m hurt” “and a virgin” “I’m going to kill you!”) and had started talking about how happy she was that Jackson and Isaac were such good friends because it meant a lot to her and her husband that Jackson had a friend who was also adopted so he could see that it was totally okay and acceptable and of course she loved Danny like a son but he was from a completely different family and she just thought it was good Jackson got to experience Isaac’s family as well.
And Stiles and Scott had just nodded and said “yes” and “no” whenever they thought it was required and thankfully she left quickly afterward but not after hugging them both and thanking them again.
“Dude,” Scott said afterward, “did you know Jackson was adopted?”
“No idea, bro, now let’s get back to shopping – “
“Put those condoms down!”
And again: only the beginning.
A day later they were in the local seven-eleven a little past midnight. They were looking at all the possible food they were about to buy when someone said:
“Stiles? Oh, and Scott, too, what a pleasure!”
Stiles closed his eye for a brief second before he turned around to face Mrs. Mahealani-Martin – their teacher. And, yup, there she was. With her perfect styled shoes and her high heels and her bright lipstick.
“Mrs. Martin,” they both greeted. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, just buying – “ and then she stopped and scanned the shop desperately with her glimmering eyes before she apparently gave up and sighed, “cigarettes, actually, but don’t you dare tell Lydia. Or Danny for that matter.”
Stiles smirked but Scott quickly said: “No, mam, we wouldn’t dream about it.”
She looked at them both doubtfully before she shook her head dismissingly, bought her brand of cigarettes, and returned her attention to the boys. “Speaking of,” she continued, “Danny had an amazing New Year’s Eve.”
“Really?” and Stiles probably sounded doubtful but that was because Danny was a smart kid – like his older sister – and he had known shit was going down and had still apparently told his mother it was fun which was… strange, to say the least.
“Yes,” she nodded and pulled out a cigarette.
Scott and Stiles both settled on a Mountain Drew and two hotdogs each and followed Mrs. Martin outside. Here she put the cigarette between her lips and lit it. Then she looked from the packet in her hand and at the boys and she seemed to consider her options before she resigned and offered them each one.
“No,” Scott said.
“Yes,” Stiles chimed in and took the cigarette from Mrs. Martin who couldn’t help but furrow her eyebrows before she handed him the lighter.
He inhaled the smoke like an expert and Mrs. Martin’s frown only grew deeper. “Now,” she said, “am I wrong to assume that my daughter has never smoked a cigarette?”
“No,” Scott said a bit too fast.
“Defiantly not,” Stiles agreed and inhaled again.
Mrs. Martin sighed again, finished her cigarette and said: “Thank you, again, for New Year’s Eve. My children both liked it. See you Monday. And Stiles? If I ever see you smoking on school grounds you’ll be in detention with me for a week, got it?” and before he could do or say anything she was gone.
A few days later they were back in the grocery store rooming through the huge ass corridors full of cereal when they bumped – literally bumped, as in Stiles walked straight into her – a woman with long, black hair and sharp cheekbones.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Stiles quickly apologized and was about to turn around and leave when she cut him off:
“Are you by any change Stiles Stilinski?”
He looked at her for a second, debating whether it would be wise to answer that question truthfully or not, when she continued: “Because then we might just have a mutual friend,” and she stepped aside to reveal a girl hiding behind her legs.
Stiles blinked and blinked again. Then he dropped down on his knees. “Kira,” he beamed delighted. “How are you, kiddo?”
Kira, who was hugging her infamous teddy bear Mr. Ted, didn’t say anything just smiled shyly and took a step closer to her mother.
“She’s a bit shy sometimes,” who-Stiles-assumed-was-Kira’s-Mother explained. Then she put out her hand for him to take and said: “Mrs. Yukimura.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Yukimura.”
“I realize you might find it a bit odd I know who you are but truth be told Kira hasn’t been talking about anything but New Year’s Eve since it happened and she threw in some very detailed descriptions of everyone, including you, Stiles,” Mrs. Yukimura smiled.
“Ah, I see,” he smiled. “Did you have a good time then, Kira?” he asked and he hoped to god his eyes were begging her not to mention anything about Isaac or the fight because he’d be so screwed if his parents found out about that. It had taken so much candy to get Isaac and the twins, Cora and Malia, Laura’s daughters, to shut up permanently.
“Yes,” she said so lowly he could hardly hear it.
“Good, kiddo,” he said just as Scott rounded the aisle and shouted: “Stiles have you seen the cereal with chocolate flavor because I can’t – oh.”
Stiles got up from the floor and saw Scott staring at Kira and Mrs. Yukimura a bit dumbstruck and sometimes Stiles seriously wondered how the boy survived without him.
“This is Mrs. Yukimura,” Stiles introduced, “you remember Kira, right? It’s her mother.”
“Of course I remember,” Scott announced happily and now it was his turn to drop down on his knees. “How are you, princess?”
And if Stiles had thought Kira was a quiet child it was obviously just because he wasn’t Scott McCall because as soon as the girl realized Scott was talking to her she opened her mouth and didn’t close it again for about ten minutes.
Stiles was staring at the girl and Scott and Yukimura shook her head but let her daughter carry on while she started checking out the cereal. Stiles followed her example and located the cereal with chocolate favor they needed (yes, needed) and Kira was still talking.
Eventually Mrs. Yukimura had to interrupt the girl, Stiles thought it was probably because Scott had started looking more frightened than surprised at this point.
“Come on, Kira, we can’t bother the boys all day,” she said.
“Oh no, it’s not a problem,” Scott said. “She’s adorable,” and Kira blushed and Stiles had to resist the urge to throw flowers at her feet that little cutie.
“Well, maybe you’ll get the opportunity to talk some more another day?”
“Well, yes, sure – “
“Good. It’s nice to have a babysitter in case an emergency strikes. Thank you, see you later. Can you wave, Kira?”
And the little cutie waved and they both left and Stiles and Scott still stood between all the different kinds of cereals.
“Did we just agree to babysit Kira?” Scott asked after a second or two.
“I think we did,” Stiles answered. “The sneaky bastard.”
“Also, I think you have yourself an admirer, Scotty.”
“Maybe you should let Isaac have Allison and you could take Kira.”
“Sometimes I don’t know why we allow you to open your mouth.”
“Me neither. Come on, chop, chop, we have the cereal, we’re moving on.”
“What if we meet anymore parents?”
“Don’t worry, we won’t.”
Among the vegetables they ran into a tall, dark-skinned man with a kid on his shoulders. Now, not every kid in Beacon Hills had been present in the Stilinski-McCall-Hale household New Year’s Eve (though it’d felt like it) so it was very plausible that this kid was none of their business. Then again: when had they ever been that lucky?
When the man turned around and Scott got a good look at the kid on his shoulders his face split in a big grin and he said: “Liam!”
Both the man and Stiles froze and looked at Scott. Then Stiles’ eyes trailed to the kid, now clapping his little hands in excitement, and he too recognized the child though he’d only met him briefly.
It appeared to be the kid Ethan and Aiden had brought along with them New Year’s Eve, their neighbor they’d been babysitting.
“Hey Li, how are you?” Scott said in his baby-slur voice he’d used on Isaac and the twins when were younger and which frankly always gave Stiles the creeps.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” the man – Liam’s father presumably – said and Scott and Stiles both looked at him.
“No, sir, you don’t,” Stiles answered. “We are, uh, acquaintances of your son.”
“Of my son?” the man repeated. “My two year old son?”
“Yes,” Stiles nodded.
“We met him is what he means,” Scott explained. “New Year’s Eve. We know Ethan and Aiden.”
“Aha,” he man said and he still didn’t look pleased at all.
“No,” Scott quickly explained, “they didn’t bring him with them to a party or anything. We were actually babysitting our brother and nieces –“
“As well as a dozen other kids,” Stiles mumbled.
“—and they brought Liam up to say hello. Briefly, of course. My nieces absolutely loved him.”
“Oh,” the man said and now he looked a lot more at ease. “Well then, you are a sort of acquaintances of my son I supposed.”
Stiles lifted one eyebrow in a sort of told-you-so manner.
“Actually, I think you work with my mom, sir? At the hospital?” Scott said.
“Is that so? What’s her name?” the man asked.
“Melissa McCall, she’s a nurse,” Scott said.
“Oh, Melissa, oh yes, I know her. Wonderful woman, she is. Well, then, you must be either Scott or Stiles.”
“Scott,” said Scott and shook the man’s hand.
“Stiles,” Stiles followed suit and also shook the man’s hand.
On his shoulder Liam had grown impatience and was drumming on his dad’s head with his little, angry fists. “Dada, move!” he ordered.
The man – Mr. Dunbar Scott later told Stiles – chuckled and said: “I gotta go, but it was a pleasure to meet you. Maybe I’ll see you again.”
“Pleasure to meet you too, sir,” Scott said and Stiles waved and was delighted when little Liam waved back (and almost fell off his father’s shoulders but his father quickly caught him, thank god).
And that should’ve been it really because there were no other children left. So they should’ve been saved. They really, really should’ve been saved from children and more importantly their parents but no, apparently not.
Two weeks later Isaac, Scott and Stiles were standing in line in the local grocery store. Isaac and Scott were reading a Donald Doc magazine and Stiles was counting all the Kinder Eggs Isaac had managed to sneak into the cart when someone cleared their throat – very emphasizing, too – and all three of them looked up.
In front of them stood a very large, very displeased looking woman in her mid-forties. Behind her stood a boy who, despite his not-too-pretty mother, was rather normal-looking.
“Yes?” Stiles asked, unsure of what to do exactly.
“Matt!” Isaac exclaimed and ran to the other boy who smiled at the other kid. “Do you have your cards with you, Matt?”
“No,” Matt frowned. “Mom wouldn’t let me.”
“But, you should always carry them around, how else are we supposed to swap when you don’t bring – “
“Hey, Lahey, stop harassing the poor child,” Stiles told his younger adopted brother. “You don’t have your cards either.”
“I do, too!” he shouted.
“Do not,” Stiles said.
“Do too – “
“Are you Stiles and Scott?” the very-large-very-angry-very-terrifying-looking woman asked.
All three brothers looked up at her and Scott and Stiles both nodded. “We are,” Stiles said.
“Well, then I must inform you that I was very displeased to learn that you had thrown a New Year’s Eve party for the kids without inviting Matt here,” she told them sharply. “Matt considers Isaac his best friend and he was very sad when he learned that Jackson and Danny had both been invited – “
“Dude, we are famous,” Stiles whispered and Scott punched him on the arm.
“So, of course, I feel like – “
“Sorry, lady,” Stiles interrupted her. “I can’t really see how this is our problem? We did not throw a party, we were babysitting our brother and nieces and that somehow turned into a little more kids than we’d first anticipated but, honestly, we weren’t trying to, like, make your Matt feel unwanted our whatever, but your child is about this high –“ and he got down and put his hand so near the floor it was practically touching it “—on our list of problems right now –“
“Well, I have never –“
“We are very sorry, mam,” Scott quickly interrupted when he noticed people were watching them. “We’ll be sure to invite Matt the next time we throw a party.”
“We weren’t –“
“I think we forgot, eh, cereal,” Scott said and pushed Stiles away before he could say anything else. “Good day, mam.”
“Bye, Matt!” Isaac shouted.
“But we weren’t throwing a party!” Stiles whined all the way to the cereal aisle where they had to hide until they were absolutely certain Matt and his mother were gone.
“I don’t like her,” Stiles mumbled on their way out. “She’s evil.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “But hey she’d heard about our party.”
“It wasn’t a party!”
“It was sort of a party.”
“It was totally a party!” Isaac chimed in. “And I want to invite Matt next time too because he the best cards and we need to swap. Also he can make Jackson do the worm and it’s very funny.”
Stiles groaned and pushed the cart to the jeep before they could run into anymore parents.
That was the beginning of the end.
After that Stiles refused to go grocery shopping and was instead on kitchen-cleaning duty which suited him perfectly as long as he wasn’t in danger of running into Mrs. Large and Angry-looking or anyone else, really. Also, he felt very kid-safe when he was in the kitchen cleaning.
He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
The sky was still clear and blue and snow-free when Mrs. Whittemore called them. Or more preciously: called Stiles. (How she’d gotten a hold of his number he had no idea but he was pretty certain at that point that all the moms in Beacon Hills had some secret cult thingy going on where they, like, exchanged recopies and babysitter-numbers and whined about their husbands and kids to each other and sacrificed annoying pets such as barking dogs and messy kittens every full moon – all in all a very plausible theory.)
“Hello?” he said when his phone rang one cold Monday morning. Isaac was in the living room trying to convince John to let him bring his cards with him to school and Scott was in the hallway trying to convince Melissa to let him borrow the car for his date with Allison that evening and Stiles felt particular jolly that morning because it wasn’t him negotiating with their parents.
“Stiles Stilinski? Yes, hello, this is Mrs. Whittemore.”
Stiles’ first reaction was to apologize but he managed to bite his tongue and only respond with: “Oh.”
“I was wondering if you and Scott could possibly be interested in looking after Jackson this Friday?”
No, was Stiles immediate responding. No, we would not be interested in looking after your son; we have enough in our own band of hyperactive bastards, thank you very much.
What came out his mouth was more like: “Sure, we’d love to.”
“Oh, how amazing, I cannot begin to tell you how desperate I was to find a babysitter on such short notice. You see, we have to pick up my sister in the airport. It won’t be for long, of course, but I would love so if you could pick him up after school? He’s in Isaac’s class.”
Stiles inhaled, exhaled, and inhaled again before he was calm enough to answer. “Okay, we’ll do that, Mrs. Whittemore.”
“Great. I’m most grateful. Thank you!” and then she was gone.
And Stiles was left to wonder when he apparently became incapable of saying “no” and why the fuck he was suddenly, of all people, responsible for Jackson Whittemore? How had his life come to this?
“Oi, Stiles we are – wow, what happened to you?”
Stiles didn’t look at Scott, just shook his head and groaned.
“Hey, bro, we need to go,” Scott said carefully, like he was afraid Stiles might do something.
“I’m a failure in life,” Stiles told him when he finally turned around.
Scott just laughed and guided him out in the hallway.
“Also, do you have any plans Friday?”
“Good, we’re babysitting Jackson.”
Scott stopped and stared at Stiles for a very, very long time and Stiles returned the glare with the same look of dread and disappointment in his eyes.
“Jackson?” Isaac shouted when he came running downstairs, a box full of cards under one arm. “What about Jackson?”
“We are apparently babysitting him,” Scott whined.
“Cool, can I come?”
Stiles just shrugged, Isaac beamed and Scott groaned before Melissa shouted that they had to get going if they wanted to make it on time.
That was not the end of it, however, because fate was unusually cruel the following week leading up to upcoming Friday.
Somehow – and again Stiles blames the cult – Mrs. Large and Angry-looking was made aware that Scott and Stiles were babysitting Jackson and was planning on bringing Isaac along and of course she just couldn’t have that. She called Stiles (who complained for seventeen minutes to Scott that it was fucking unfair that they seemed to only have gotten a hold of his number and not Scott’s) Tuesday afternoon and pretty quickly it became obvious to Stiles that it was useless to tell the shouting lade that they were babysitting Jackson not throwing a party for the children (again). So, eventually to shut her up, he had to agree that he would let Matt tack along as well – but he also somehow made it so she would too pay them for babysitting and Stiles thinks that the money might just make it all worth it.
Scott wasn’t too pleased about this new development but Isaac was thrilled and Melissa and John thought it was amazing what they did for their brother.
Things took a dangerous turn Thursday when Laura called home to inform her family that she was in trouble.
“Are you being chased by a gang again?” Stiles asked.
“No, don’t worry,” she said.
“Again?!” John shrieked but no one paid him any attention.
“Well, what can we do to help?” Melissa asked, she was the one holding the phone.
“I need someone to babysit for me tomorrow.”
Stiles slid to his knees, wrapped his arms around his long legs and groaned loudly.
On the phone he heard Laura chuckle. “That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me,” she said.
“No!” Stiles shouted.
“Yay,” Isaac beamed.
“Oh for crying out loud,” Scott muttered.
And that was how Stiles and Scott were suddenly babysitting not one, not two but five children that Friday.
However, just when Stiles was getting used to the idea of letting the boys play in the garden all afternoon until they hopefully ran out of energy and collapsed, it started fucking snowing.
And not like ‘’hey how nice it’s snowing how pretty and wonderful just like they always make it out to be movies yay’’ snowing either. This was real, hardcore, not-for-Disney-movies, killer snow. Falling from the sky, whirling around in the wind like a freaking disaster hurricane terrorizing the country.
Stiles woke up to the sound of screaming. Very loud, very persistent screaming. Coming from somewhere next to him. And he slowly turned to face his little brother Isaac.
“What is wrong with you?” Stiles asked. “Like, I am legitimate scared for you right now.”
Isaac closed his mouth – and thereby cut off his own, piercing screaming – and jumped on the bed. “It’s snowing!” he shouted eagerly and jumped higher and more intensively. “It’s snowing, it’s snowing, it’s snowing and school’s closed. Yours is too, Stiles, it’s closed, it’s closed, it’s closed – “
“I get it, I get it!” Stiles grabbed the kid around the waist and wrestled him down onto the bed. “Jesus.”
“We’re free!” Isaac sang.
“Now that might be exaggerating it a bit, kiddo, but I feel you.”
“We’re FREE!” and then Isaac managed to get out of Stiles’ iron grip and continued his tantrum of terror in Scott’s room.
Deciding he was already awake he might as well get up and do something he pulled his covers away, yawned, stretched and went downstairs. And found his parents literally running around like mad men.
“Wow, daddy, Melissa, what’s, uh, what’s going on? In your lives. Right now.”
“It’s snowing,” Melissa said as if that was explanation enough.
Stiles looked out of the kitchen window and, huh, would you look at that it was, indeed, snowing. “So I’ve noticed,” Stiles said. “What’s with all the running around?”
John rounded the corner, grabbed his keys and disappeared again. Melissa shook her head, poured herself a big cup of coffee and said: “The hospital called, some of the people living further away can’t make it to the hospital because the roads are practically unreachable. So they’ve asked me to come in instead. And your father’s been called out to three accidents already.”
“Huh,” Stiles said. “That would explain the running. Wait, hold on, you said your colleagues couldn’t make it because of the snow? How bad it is?”
“Take a look outside, kid,” she said.
And so he did.
And then his mouth opened and he stood their gasping like a fish out of water because holy moly it was snowing. Like snow storm proportions.
“Well,” he mumbled. “Looks like I have the day off.”
He spoke too soon.
Not ten minutes later and Mrs. Whittemore called him, practically sobbing into the phone, going on and on about how she had to go pick up her sister before the roads became too bad and she couldn’t leave Jackson and oh please could Stiles and Scott maybe take him a little earlier because she knew that the High School had been closed too?
And Stiles wanted to point out that ‘a little earlier’ was a few hours earlier not half a day earlier but he did genuinely feel bad for her so he agreed.
Besides, they needed Isaac to blow off some steam and hanging out with Jackson outside in the snow might just do the trick.
A few moments later Scott came downstairs with Isaac on his bag and Stiles explained the situation. Isaac, of course, was happy about the whole thing and Scott refined himself to one long sigh before he shrugged.
“So,” Scott said, “should we call Matt and invite him too?”
Stiles groaned loudly before he agreed. “Bette do it or else his mother might actually succeed in killing us with just her voice.”
Laura and the twins came downstairs half an hour later and when Laura saw the snow she looked about ready to lie down and die.
“Come on, L, what’s with the look?” Stiles had asked his sister only slightly concerned.
“I have a job interview in the city in less than six hours how the hell am I supposed to make it in this weather?”
“If you go now you just might be able to make it,” he suggested.
She looked up at him. “And the girls, will you take them already?”
“Sure,” Stiles said because why the hell not they were already looking after three devils what damage could two more possible do?
So, another thirty minutes later and Stiles was helping Cora tie her scarf and Scott was tying Malia’s boots while an over-excited Isaac was dancing around when Melissa – the last parent still in the house – appeared.
“Boys,” she said and from her tone of voice Stiles knew it was something bad. “I need a favor. A colleague of mine just called me and begged me for my help. He said he knew you two. His name’s Mr. Dunbar and he has a kid named Liam – “
“Yeah, yeah we’ll pick him right up and take him along with us,” Stiles said not even looking up from where he was pulling a hat over Cora’s head.
“Oh you’re amazing,” she sang.
“No, we are apparently babysitters. To everyone. Literally everyone in town. Great.”
“Scott, can you give me a lift?” Melissa asked and he nodded, sure, and left with her. In the meantime Stiles manhandled all the children outside where they waited for Scott. Isaac and Cora started building a snowman while Malia threw little fists of snow at Stiles.
When Scott reappeared not fifteen minutes later it was with not one but two kids tagging along. First he pulled out little Liam who was about three sizes bigger than the last time Stiles had seen him because of the multiple layers of clothes he was wearing. Next, he pulled out Kira.
Stiles tensed, clenched his jaw and felt his nostrils flare dangerously. “Scott,” he said slowly, “what’s that?”
“You remember Kira, right?” he asked sheepishly.
“Of course I remember Kira!” Stiles spat.
“Well, I sort of ran into her mother in the hospital hallway and – “
“No!” Stiles said and lifted a hand. “I don’t want to know anymore.”
He looked at five children playing in the snow before he shook his head and said: “Come on, we better go get the others.”
And then they were off.
Another thirty minutes later – and two kids heavier – they were headed for the park. Scott was on the phone – with Allison probably – and Stiles was trying not to lose sight of any of the children. He had a giggling Liam on his hip and Kira in one hand. Isaac was running ahead of him and Cora and Malia were laughing and throwing snow at each other. Matt was somewhere to his right trying to convince Jackson to do the worm which the other boy refused because he didn’t want to get snow in his underwear.
“Good news man,” Scott sang, “I just spoke with Allison, she’s in the park too, with Lyds and the twins, she’ll be happy to help us with the kids!”
“Oh thank fucking god,” Stiles exhaled and moved Liam to the other arm. “I can taste a bit of freedom.”
Scott laughed and they hurried along.
When they found the others in the park Stiles jolted to a stop and muttered: “Oh my God, you got to be kidding me,” because yes there were Allison and Lydia and Lydia’s boyfriend and her boyfriend’s twin brother but there, next to Allison and Lydia, were also two kids. Erica, Allison’s five-year-old cousin and Danny, Lydia’s eight-year-old brother to be precise.
“Hey!” Scott greeted and waved.
Their friends turned to look at them and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, this is precious,” Ethan – Stiles could tell them apart now, yay – said. “You brought the whole kindergarten.”
“Well, some of us have to work, Ethan,” Stiles hissed. “Besides, we found your kid,” and he gestured to Liam, Ethan and Aiden’s neighbor kid, on his hip.
“Hey Li,” Aiden sang excited when he noticed the boy and as soon as Liam recognized the familiar faces he started laughing and throwing his little arms around.
“Hey, Danny!” Isaac shouted. “Look, Matt, Jackson, its Danny.”
“And Lydia,” Jackson breathed and Stiles smirked because that kid had a crush on girl ten years older than himself. But hey, Stiles is the one who’s in love with his step brother so who’s he to judge?
“Hey, Stiles,” Allison said as she approached with Erica in her arms. “I see you brought kids?”
“I see you did too,” he commented.
“As always,” she smirked.
Stiles smirked too. “As always.”
And that is the story of how what could’ve been a most delightful day off with his friends turned into Stiles-and-Scott-with-company-babysitter-service having a field day.
And okay so most of the children around them is his responsibility and okay so he knows how this happened but he still can’t help but feel like this isn’t entirely his fault, like maybe there’s others to blame for this too.
Not that it matters. He is here. Among toddlers, in a fierce snowball fight that might just turn into a crying mess in a few minutes and – to his great surprise – he finds that things could be worse. It’s not so bad throwing snowballs at Isaac and tackling Lydia to the ground, it’s not so bad being attacked by midgets and crawled on and it’s not so bad being forced to build snowmen and make snow-angels, it really isn’t.
Ethan and Aiden are helping the boy’s build a snow castle but it’s easier said than done because they can’t really cooperate. Jackson keeps stepping on the pieces he doesn’t like, Matt keeps pretending to be in charge, Isaac keeps growling whenever someone threatens to come near the tower he’s build and Danny just rolls his eyes and sighs.
Not too far from them Lydia and the twins are building a snowman family. Or, Lydia is building a snowman family and Malia and Cora are running around finding random object to present to Lydia with the words “do you need this? Do you need this?”
Allison and Scott seem to be in charge of Kira and Erica. The two girls are not really doing anything, more like they are running around in the snow, throwing snow at each other and doing all sorts of weird stunts kids their age shouldn’t be able to do, Stiles thinks, and in the meantime Allison and Scott pretend to help them but they’re actually just gazing into each other’s eyes like love-sick puppies. Gross.
And Stiles has little Liam to entertain. He did not pull the short straw with this one. And even though Stiles really isn’t great with kids and especially kids under the age of five he is doing alright so far. Liam is a happy little kid unless something cross him then he has a temper that could make Jackson’s worst tantrum look like a walk in the park. So Stiles’ main job is to prevent any terrifying tantrums from happening and this is accomplished through things such as asking lot of baby-question, kissing him, making weird faces and letting the boy throw snow at him. It could be worse, he muses, he could be Ethan and Aiden who are currently breaking up yet another fight between Isaac and Jackson and Stiles just snorts.
“Hey,” Allison calls an hour later, just about when Stiles realizes he can’t feel his fingers or toes, “anyone want to go ice skating?”
Scott groans and Stiles can’t blame him because the kid can’t skate for shit but Stiles just grins and when all the kids collectively starts shouting he supposes it was a good idea.
“There’s a coffee store next to skating rink,” Allison whispers to him when they’re on their way.
“Oh my God I love you,” he exhales and she winks before she grabs Erica’s hand and lets the girl lead the way.
There are too many people on the skating rink, it’s as easy as that. There’s simply no room for nine kids and six teenagers on the ice.
He can see Isaac, Danny, Matt and Jackson running around in anticipation because they haven’t apparently realized there’s no way they can actually fit onto the ice.
Erica pulls at Allison’s hand but the brunette sighs and lifts her up in her arm. “I’m sorry,” she says, “but there’s no room. You see all those people? They were here first and we can’t –“
“But Ally,” little Erica whines and oh holy god it’s the cutest thing ever. “I really, really, really want to go.”
“I know,” Allison mumbles and she looks absolutely heartbroken.
Kira just stands on her other side, looking at the skating rank with her dark eyes, her shoulder slumping like she’s lost all her spirit.
“Uncle,” a little voice says and Stiles looks down to see Malia pulling his sleeve. “Can we go skating now?”
“Honey,” Stiles says slowly, adjusting Liam on his hip, “I’m sorry but – “
“But, Uncle,” Malia whines and her lower lip fucking quivers.
“I know, sweetie,” Stiles sighs. “But there’s no room.”
Malia looks from Stiles to the skating rink where people are already constantly bumping into one another. Then she looks back up at Stiles and she looks positively evil.
“Can’t we get rid of them?” she asks. Stiles chokes on his own spit and the loud sound makes Liam cry. When Stiles finally has his own breathing under control and he’s handed Liam off to Aiden he looks down at Malia again. He doesn’t know whether he should be frightened or proud.
“Well…” he says and looks at the skating rink. He suppose there’s a lot of trashy people –
“No!” he hears Scott shout and when Stiles looks up he sees his brother sending him evil glares.
“Okay, okay, no we can’t, I’m sorry pumpkin,” Stiles sighs and lifts Malia up. “We just have to wait.”
“Or,” Isaac, who’s apparently caught on to the fact that they’re not going ice skating anytime soon, says, “we could go to the special place.”
“What special place?” Malia demands to be told.
“Could we?” Stiles asks Scott who’s picked up Cora.
“I suppose?” he shrugs. “We could rent the skates here?”
“Hmm,” Stiles muses. “It’s pretty cold I’d say it’s frozen over.”
“We can always try it out?” Scott says.
“What are you two gossiping about?” Lydia says. “If you have some magic ice skating place spit it out.”
Stiles inhales and sighs. “Fine,” he grunts. “Gather the midgets and let’s go.”
“Yay!” Isaac cheers.
Renting the skates turns out to be troublesome but after almost twenty minutes of negotiations with the girl in the booth they finally manage to get everyone a pair that fits (more or less) and then they’re headed off.
The walk to the special place is not too long, about twenty minutes away from the skating rink. Of course that is without nine kids.
They can’t walk more than a few meters before one of the kids suddenly gets distracted by something and runs off to somewhere. Every five minutes one of the youngest gets too impatient and starts whining or simply gives up and sits down in the snow. And the boys keeps arguing and fighting.
Forty minutes after they left the skating rink they can see it.
It’s not very big, it’s close to the forest but not actually in it, just a little to the side, hidden between some huge ass tress and a few old houses. No one ever comes here so not a lot of people are even aware that it exists.
“Wow,” Lydia says. “Where did this come from?”
“Apparently it’s always been here,” Stiles shrugs. “Derek told us about it.”
“Hey, speaking of,” Ethan says, “isn’t that your brother?”
Stiles can feel his entire body tense immediately before he shakes his head once because no, of course it isn’t Derek, he’s home in his own apartment and not –
“Yo, Derek!” Scott shouts.
And then the girls chimes in. “Uncle D, Uncle D!”
And finally little Isaac. “Derek! Derek, Derek, hey, Derek!”
And Stiles dares to look up and holy shit yes there he is. Standing next to the lake next to his friend Boyd. And it is definitely Derek, there’s no denying that. His broad shoulders are covered by a black jacket, his big hands are wearing gloves and on his feet is a pair of impressive military boots.
He looks at good as ever, Stiles notes, and when he sees him he can’t help but notice how his stupid, fucking heart makes some impressive stunts it’s not supposed to do because this is Derek, his step-brother Derek, not some school-crush. Derek, with his dark eyes and grumpy voice, Derek, with his amazing smile that can light up a room, Derek, with his strong hands and his amazing tongue, Derek, who can kiss you so your head goes fussy and it becomes hard to even breathe properly.
Stiles is the last one to greet him. The rest of the family has already surrounded him by the time he reaches them.
“Hey,” he says and he even looks up and meets his eyes and oh no, he wasn’t prepared for this.
“Hey,” Derek greets and there’s something in his eyes almost like sadness and it makes it hard for Stiles to breathe. “What are you all doing here?”
“We could ask you the same?” Scott grins. Behind them the rest of the gang has caught up and the kids are cheering delighted by the sight of the frozen lake.
“Boyd and I decided to take the day off and use the cold for something useful,” Derek explains.
“Like ice skating?” Stiles can’t help but smirk when he notices the skates around Derek’s neck.
“Yes,” Derek’s roll his eyes but Stiles can see the smile tug in the corner of his mouth.
Boyd huffs next to Derek. “He was the one who suggested it.”
“Oh, I have no doubts about that,” Stiles says.
Derek sends him a glare and it should be frightening but it just makes his stomach do all these crazy, stupid twists and turns.
Allison and Lydia as well as Erica and Kira have joined them while the other kids are running around among Ethan and Aiden.
“We had the same idea,” Allison confesses.
“Hey, Vernon!” Erica shouts enthusiastically.
Boyd grins when he sees the little girl he’d met at New Year’s Eve where he too was present. “Hey there, princess.”
“Unfortunately it’s not going to happen,” Derek explains.
“What do you mean?” Scott asks.
“The lake is not properly frozen, it’s going to break underneath the first one who approaches it – “
“Isaac, wait a second!” they hear Ethan shout and they all turn their attention to Isaac who’s already skating around on the frozen lake.
There’s a heartbeat of silence. And then Stiles’ hearts drops and he can’t feel anything in his fingers, his legs, his head – everything is spinning.
“No, Isaac!” Scott shouts and runs to the edge of the lake. Stiles is right behind him.
Isaac turns to look at him and there’s a big grin on his face. Stiles’ heart beats too fucking hard in his chest and his blood is drumming so loudly in his ears it’s drowning out any other noise.
“Hey, kiddo!” Stiles shouts. “You can’t be out there, it’s dangerous.”
“Why?” Isaac frowns.
“It just is,” Stiles says, “you have to come back.”
“No!” Isaac says. “I really want – “
“I know but you have to get back here, bud,” Scott says.
Behind them the others are taking care of the other’s kids but Derek has come up behind them. He is right next to Stiles and he can feel his arm against his own and he hardly even notices it.
“Kiddo, come on – “ Stiles begins again but then a horrible crunching sound breaks him off.
Isaac whimpers and looks down. Underneath his feet the ice is breaking. Slowly, but persisting.
And Stiles wants to throw up.
“Come here, kiddo,” and his voice is way more desperate now.
“I’m scared,” Isaac says.
“Yes, but you have to get back here, Isaac,” Derek says, he too sounds like he’s on the verge of a panic.
Another loud crunching noise and everyone goes deadly silent. Stiles can see the ice breaking and Isaac cries out.
“Come on, kiddo, please, you got to move,” Stiles pleads.
“I’m scared,” he repeats and doesn’t move a centimeter.
“What do we do?” Scott cries.
Stiles doesn’t think he just reacts. He takes a step forward before he’s even aware of what he’s doing.
“Stiles!” Derek shouts. “Get back here.”
“No, we have to go get him.” Stiles inhales, exhales, inhales and puts one foot on the ice. It cracks under his weight.
“It’s going to break,” Derek shouts and he sounds desperate.
“We don’t have time for this!” Stiles yells. “I weigh the least of the three of us, I’ll go get him. Just,” he inhales sharply, “get your phone ready if…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence and he doesn’t have to.
No one’s saying a thing, not even Isaac on the ice.
Stiles takes the first step and he can hear the ice protest underneath him. His heart beats louder and louder and his fingers shake but he keeps moving very slowly across the ice. Luckily Isaac isn’t too far out and he is reaching him fast.
Then the ice comes with a particular loud crunch under Isaac and Stiles freeze. Isaac whimpers and fat tears are rolling down his eyes.
“I’m scared,” he says.
Stiles glances at the cracks underneath his skates and he can’t blame him. That ice isn’t going to hold another minute.
“I know,” Stiles says and looks back up. He swallows hard and exchanges he hand for Isaac to take. “But you’ll be alright, kiddo, I’d never let anything bad happen to you ever again.”
Isaac sobs and reaches out but he can’t reach the hand and he doesn’t dare move.
“Just… “ Stiles’ voice breaks. “It’s going to be okay. Do you trust me?”
Isaac sobs and nods.
“Good,” Stiles breathes and even manages a grin. “You’re my little midget, right, and we going to be okay because I say so, yeah?”
“Y-yeah,” Isaac says.
“I need you to move a little,” Stiles tells him. “Not a lot, just a little, so you can reach my hand, can you do that for me?”
Isaac whimpers and looks at the ice crunching and breaking.
“Come on, Isaac, please,” Stiles says and tries to swallow again. “Just a bit.”
They don’t have time for this. He has to move now –
Isaac takes a shaking step forward, the ice complains loudly and Stiles’ breath gets caught in his throat when he sees Isaac almost lose his footing.
“No!” he shouts. “Don’t move!”
Isaac whimpers and cries louder.
Stiles tries to breathe but it’s fucking hard. He doesn’t know if the others are shouting something behind him, he can’t hear them anymore. There is only Isaac and him on the ice.
Stiles moves a little forward not entirely too sure what he’s even doing.
The ice crunches.
Someone screams his name.
The ice breaks and Stiles sees it happening and moves.
He feels himself push Isaac away from the ice and he sees the kid land in a pile of snow behind him and then he doesn’t see anything else.
The ice underneath his feet finally gives into his weight.
The water is paralyzingly cold.
He is drowning, he’s aware of this. He is also very much aware of the agonizing pain.
He doesn’t gasp for air at first.
He feels himself falling deeper and deeper and somewhere in the back of his mind he’s aware that he should try and fight his way to the surface.
He can’t. He physically can’t. His entire body is paralyzed because of the terrifyingly cold water.
He looks up through the haze of dirty water but he cannot see the hole in the ice anymore.
Then he can’t fight it any longer and he gasps for air and feels the water fill his lungs.
He chokes on the water and sinks deeper and deeper down into the darkness.
It doesn’t hurt anymore; it’s actually kind of… peaceful.
And then there is only darkness and peace.
Noises. Voices. It’s too loud. He wants to be in the quiet place again. No, it’s too loud, too loud.
Someone is saying something.
He doesn’t care.
He doesn’t understand the words anyway.
He can’t focus on the voice or the words.
He wants to react, he really, really do, but’s so fucking hard.
The first thing he becomes aware of is that he’s alive. He knows this because his head hurts like holy shit and he doesn’t think it’s supposed to that if you’re dead. And in heaven. Unless he’s in hell, that would explain it.
He groans and very, very slowly opens his eyes.
It takes more effort than it should but he manages.
And then he can see white, white, and white –
“Stiles? Oh, fuck, Stiles!”
There is a strong but gentle hand on his arm. He takes a second or two to appreciate this before he turns his head – again it takes more effort than it should – and finds Derek watching him with tears in his eyes.
The sight has Stiles speechless.
Maybe he is dead after all.
“Derek?” he croaks out slowly. His voice is rough and it hurts to speak.
Derek exhales and actually smiles. “Yeah, hey, I’m here, I’m right here.”
“Where – where am I?”
Stiles remembers ice skating, he remembers Isaac on the ice, he remembers the water filing his lungs.
“Is Isaac okay?” he practically shouts.
“Yeah,” Derek says and puts a gentle hand on his head. “Yeah, he’s fine, he’s fine. Calm down.”
Stiles nods and takes a few calming breaths.
“You saved him,” Derek continues, his voice low and full of tears. Stiles has never heard him sound like this. “You saved him.”
“Good,” Stiles mumbles. He feels exhausted and every bone in his body aches. “I’m tired.”
“Okay,” Derek whispers. “Get some sleep.”
“Okay,” Stiles mumbles. “Where’re the others?”
“They’re home. You’ve been here for two days, Stiles.”
Stiles can’t open his eyes but he can still say: “But you stayed.”
“Yeah,” Derek breathes and the hand on Stiles’ head caresses his hair gently. “I’ll always stay.” There’s something more about that statement, something gentle, something full of love, some dangerous. “I won’t leave again.”
Stiles can’t say anything, the darkness is already pulling at him, but he manages a small smile before he drifts off again.
“Stiles!” is the sound that awakens Stiles the following morning followed by something colliding with him.
“Isaac, be careful!”
There’s a tangle of limps and someone pressing their full bodyweight against him but he somehow manages to maneuver himself so he can wrap his arms around the person – Isaac, most definitely Isaac – and pull him closer.
“Oh my God,” Stiles whispers as he hugs his brother tight. “You’re okay, kiddo, you’re okay.”
He can hear other people approaching but he doesn’t care, he just wants to hug and kiss Isaac, wants to feel his little heart throb away, wants to feel his skinny arms wrap around his neck as if to say ‘don’t go’.
Eventually he has to let go. Someone, his dad, takes Isaac from his strong grip and puts him on the ground and then Stiles is being attacked again. First by a sobbing Scott, then comes Laura who hugs him too tight, after that it’s the twins who plants kisses on his cheeks and nose and forehead, until Melissa takes their place and eventually it’s his dad. This hug is longer, tighter, somehow more important than any of the others’ and Stiles can’t say anything, just hug his dad tight, and promise never to scare him like that.
When he lets go and Stiles is allowed to fall back onto his pillow the boy notices the figure next to his bed and a fond smile can’t help but creep onto his lips when he catches Derek’s dark eyes.
“You stayed,” Stiles mumbles.
“I told you I would,” is the older male’s only answer.
“Oh my God Stiles you can’t ever do something like that!” Scott says as he sits on the bed. “We were scared shitless, dude.”
“I’m sorry,” Stiles says even though it’s not true. He’s sorry his family was worried about him, sure, but he isn’t sorry he pushed Isaac away – he’d do it again if he had to. “What happened?” he asks.
“Well,” Scott mumbles, “we called 911 as soon as you fell in. We couldn’t risk stepping onto the ice because it was most likely to collapse under anyone else as well so we had to wait. It’s was fucking terrifying. Derek was pretty close to jumping in after you a few times but Allison and Boyd combined can be pretty fucking strong.”
Stiles doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry so he settles on neither.
“So, what did this little experience teach us?” Melissa says.
“Not to let us ever babysit anyone ever again?” Stiles says hopefully.
Melissa just snorts. “Don’t ever, ever go ice skating again. Ever.”
“But I really wanna,” Malia whines. Laura chuckles and picks up her daughter and places her on Stiles’ legs where she starts giggling and singing a princess song she saw on TV the other day.
They leave an hour later when Stiles says he’s tired but not after he’s received hugs from every last one of them and has thanked Cora and Malia for their drawing (of a cat setting fire to a dog and seriously what is Laura teaching those kids) profoundly.
Derek is the last one left in the room and Stiles doesn’t know what to make of that so he tries not to think about it too much.
“Stiles,” he hears Derek whisper.
“Yes?” Stiles whispers back as he glances at the other male out of the corner of his eyes.
“Don’t do something like that again.”
Derek’s eyes tell stories of pain Stiles can never imagine and it gives him a lump in his throat. “Okay.”
There’s a moment of silence and then Derek leans down and Stiles can see it happening almost in slow-motion and every thought in his head turns to white noise as Derek approaches.
His lips are dry and Stiles can’t help but lick them. When Derek opens his mouth Stiles is more than willing to deepen the kiss. He sits up straighter in the bed and they both ignore the awkward angle. Stiles puts a hand behind Derek’s neck to pull him closer and Derek runs a hand through Stiles’ brown hair.
When they pull away to breathe Stiles can’t help but smile widely like an idiot. Derek smiles too he sees to his relief.
“One more time before…” Stiles doesn’t finish the question, Derek knows before what – before they have to go out into the real world where they’re not supposed to share kisses and gentle touches, where they’re supposed to be loving, caring brothers and nothing else, where they have a family who’s watching them.
“Yes,” Derek agrees and he leans down again.
The kiss is hungry and desperate and somehow still gentle and loving and Stiles’ heart keeps fluttering and his fingers keeps twisting and he keeps sighing in pleasure, his hot breath tickling Derek’s lip.
When they pull away this time Stiles has to resist the urge to shout “no” because he knows that this was the last kiss. And he feels like he’s just been presented the most beautiful thing in the world and has had a taste of something great just to have it all taken away again. It’s unfair, he thinks, but he can’t change it.
“You were a hero,” Derek says.
“I’m not a hero,” Stiles snorts.
“You were that day,” Derek says. Then he leans down one finale time and plants a kiss to Stiles’ forehead. “Go to sleep, Stiles.”
“Okay,” Stiles whispers and closes his eyes. When Derek takes his hand and gives it a squeeze he smiles despite himself and when he fall asleep he dreams of different worlds where Derek would be his and no one else’s. But when he wakes up and sees Isaac in the end of his bed, drawing a picture, while Scott is on the floor helping the twins build a Lego slot and Melissa and John walk into the room with their hands full of coffee cups he realizes that just because reality is different than his dreams it’s not necessarily worse.
“Hey kiddo,” he says and nudges Isaac with his foot.
“Stiles, I drawed a picture of you,” Isaac informs him.
“Can I see?”
Isaac grins and crawls over Stiles’ legs so he can sit against Stiles’ chest and proudly presents to him a picture of something that looks like a crossing between a man and a bear.
“Wow, that’s really nice, kiddo,” Stiles says and kisses the top of Isaac’s hair.
When Laura and Derek walks in to the room with sandwiches Stiles looks up and catches Derek’s eyes and the older male shoots him a smile with only a hint of sadness to it and yeah, this is okay, too.