Teen Wolf BigBang Fic - My Isabella (Teen) - 3/9

Dec 05, 2013 14:11



Previous Parts:
Masterpost | Part 1 | Part 2


Stiles was working at the sheriff’s department on a Wednesday when he received the call from Sophia.

“Stiles, I’m going into labour.”

Stiles shot up from his seat and upended the last two hours’ worth of work. “What? Okay, where are you?”

“Your dad is driving me to the hospital.”

“Yes, good. I’ll be there soon.”

Stiles put the phone down and then almost strangled himself when he tried to step away from the desk.

“You okay, Stiles?” Meg, the lady who handled the front desk with something akin to inhuman efficiency, asked, looking at him strangely.

“Sophia is having the baby.” Stiles sat down again but missed the chair he had pushed away in his previous effort and ended up on the floor. “Oh crap, I’m going to be a dad.”

One of the deputies, Sarah, came to stand over him. “You are, but you’re going to miss something if you don’t calm down.”

Stiles looked at her like she was an idiot. “But it’s early. It’s three weeks early. She isn’t due for three weeks.”

Sarah reached down and hauled him up. Stiles looked around to find every member of the sheriff’s department staff standing and staring at him.

“My Grace was early,” Scott, another deputy, said. “Happens. She’ll be fine.”

“But I’m not ready!” Stiles said.

“You’re never ready,” Meg said, walking over. She grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and manhandled him into it then handed him his keys and mobile. She made him check that he had his wallet and then grabbed his elbow and started walking him out of the building. She stopped when they reached his little red car with the car seat in the back and she grabbed his shoulders. “You are never, ever, ready for your baby to come. There will always be more you could do but for right this second I want you to listen. If you do the very best you can then it doesn’t matter that you could do more. You will learn that one of the secrets of parenting is that you could always do better. Now, I want you to take a deep breath.” Stiles obeyed. “Good, now drive slowly to the hospital and do not use your phone. Call us when she is born, understood?”

Stiles nodded and took another deep breath. He felt calmer as he reached into his pocket for his keys and slid behind the wheel. He drove away from the sheriff’s department building concentrating very firmly on the road around him. It took him longer to get to the hospital than it should have but he made it there with both his body and, most, of his sanity intact.

He sent a quick message to Meg thanking her and then dialled Scott’s number.

“Hey, Stiles.”

“Scott, she’s in labour and I’m at the hospital.”

“Already?”

“Yeah,” Stiles let out on a breath. “Already, let everyone know, okay?”

“Sure, good luck.”

Stiles hung up and then called Derek.

“Stiles, you’re at work.”

“No,” Stiles said. “I’m at the hospital.”

“What’s wrong?” Derek said urgently.

“Sophia’s in labour and I’m about to be a father.”

“That’s great,” Derek said. “Then why are you talking to me?”

“I wanted you to know,” Stiles said. “I wanted to tell you myself.”

There was a pause. “Thank you.”

Stiles let out a groan. “I’m not ready yet.”

“What needs to be done?”

“The download into my brain that is going to tell me how to be a dad.”

“Doesn’t exist.”

“The fact I haven’t set up her area in my room. I just thought I’d have more time and it’s only been a week since the baby shower.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Derek-”

“Anything else?” Derek said, cutting Stiles off.

“No,” Stiles said. “I think that’s it.”

“Call me when she’s born?”

Stiles opened his mouth to say yes and then realised what he was actually going to say was…come, come and be here, somehow that seemed like asking too much but he closed his eyes and did it anyway. “You know, they have a waiting room.”

“I’ll be there,” Derek said and Stiles could hear the smile in his voice.

“I’ve got to go,” Stiles said. “I’m going to be a dad.”

“You are.”

“Do I want to be called dad? Daddy? Papa? Pop? Shit.”

“Probably she won’t be calling you anything yet,” Derek said. “So worry about it when she’s born.”

“Yes, good point.” Stiles took a deep breath. “I have to go.”

“Bye.” Derek hung up and Stiles pulled himself out of the car and into the hospital. He found his way to Sophia’s room and his father smiled at him from where he was sitting next to Sophia. She was resting back in the bed but he could see that she was tense.

“Everything okay?” Stiles asked.

“Just had a contraction,” Sophia said. “They aren’t fun.”

Stiles smiled. “Sorry.”

She shrugged at him. “They are getting me drugs.”

“I’ll leave you both to it,” Sam said standing up. He walked over to Stiles and kissed him on the head. “Good luck.”

There were many things about childbirth that television had prepared Stiles for. There was so many more that it hadn’t. And then there were some things about it that he really, really, desperately wished he could unlearn.

At 7:20pm on November 3, Stiles couldn’t have cared any less about his visual and emotional scarring because a nurse handed him his daughter. She was red and her head was faintly cone shaped, she didn’t look very attractive and she was the most amazingly, beautiful, thing he had ever seen. He held her while the medical staff around him did medical things but he didn’t stop simply looking down at his daughter who was staring back at him with wide blue eyes. She had soft blonde hair on her head and round cheeks. Stiles looked down at her and realised that he would be responsible for her for the rest of his life.

“Can I hold her?”

Stiles startled and looked up to find Sophia watching him.

“Yes, of course,” he handed Sophia the baby and took a step away from the bed.

“Hello,” Sophia said looking down at her. “She looks like you.”

“Really?” Stiles asked.

“What are you going to call her?”

“Isabella.”

Sophia smiled. “Hello, Isabella.”

Then the room was silent.

Stiles didn’t want to ask but he had to. “Have you changed your mind?”

Sophia looked down at Isabella and then shook her head. “She is amazing and I think I love her but this isn’t what I want. She’s yours, she has been the whole time. Whenever you’re ready with the paperwork I’ll sign.”

“You don’t have to rush.”

Sophia shook her head and looked up at Stiles. “I’m not rushing. This isn’t what I want, but you do.”

“I do.” Stiles confirmed, wanting her even more now than he had before.

Sophia nodded. “Can I have a minute though?”

“Of course,” Stiles turned around and walked out of the room.

He walked down to the waiting room to find the entire pack sitting around. They were all looking at the door expectantly when Stiles walked in.

“She’s a she,” Stiles said and then collapsed into the chair next to Derek. “She’s perfect and Sophia still wants to give her up but mainly she’s perfect.”

“Congratulations,” Derek said next to Stiles. Stiles turned and smiled at him and the rest of the pack descended. He was pulled out of his chair and they surrounded him.

Finally, Stiles made it to his dad.

“Hey, Grandad,” Stiles said with a smile just before his father pulled him into a hug.

“Take me back to meet her,” Sam said.

Stiles smiled at them all before leading his father back to Sophia’s room. He knocked on the door and Sophia called him in. She was sitting on the bed crying but she smiled when she saw Stiles.

“How are you, Sophia?” Sam asked.

“I feel better,” she said. “This feels like the right decision. I thought it would be harder but it’s right.”

Stiles wasn’t convinced as tears were still trickling down her cheeks but she held Isabella slightly away from her.

“Come take her.”

Sam beat Stiles to be bed and lifted his granddaughter out of bed gently.

“Would you mind giving me some time?” Sophia asked.

“Of course,” Stiles said. “I’ll be out in the waiting room if you need anything.”

Stiles and his father turned and left the room. Sam stopped a couple of steps down the hallway and turned to Stiles who reached out to touch her.

“What’s she called?” Sam asked running his fingers over the downy hair on his granddaughter’s head.

“Isabella Claudia Sophia Stilinski.”

His father looked up at Stiles suddenly. “Claudia?”

“For mum, and Sophia because she should have a connection to her mother even if she doesn’t see her.”

“Hello, Isabella,” Sam said looking back down at the baby in his arms. “I’m your Grandad.”

“We should take her back,” Stiles said a few minutes later. “To show everyone.”

His father nodded and they walked back to the waiting room. Stiles had one eye on where he was going and the other on his daughter. When they walked into the waiting room all of the pack were standing around with eager looks on their faces. Stiles thought about seeing if he could find the Lion King music with his phone and holding her aloft. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

“Everyone,” Stiles said instead. “This is my daughter, Isabella Claudia Sophia Stilinski.”

Each of the wolves came over and touched her hair, her cheek but none of them made a move to take her from Sam who was holding her protectively. Just as Stiles was about to steal Isabella from his father and give her to Scott a nurse came into the waiting room and politely, but firmly, told them it was past visiting hours. The pack reluctantly said goodbye and they all touched her again as they filed out.

Then it was just Stiles and his father.



Sophia signed the papers relinquishing her parental rights the day after Isabella was born. Sophia couldn’t leave the hospital yet but Isabella was completely healthy so that afternoon they sent her home with Stiles. The entire pack, and Melissa, were jammed into his living room when Stiles and his dad walked into the house with Isabella.

“What are you all doing here?” Stiles asked.

“We came to see the baby,” Isaac said.

“To learn her smell,” Scott said not hesitating to walk over and smile down at his niece. “Hello, Isabella, aren’t you beautiful? I’m your Uncle Scott.”

Scott scooped her out of Stiles’ arms and held her in his arms comfortably. After a few minutes he pulled her up and rested his nose against her neck. His eyes ran amber and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes after. Scott held her for a few more minutes before passing her to Derek who seemed to take longer. His nose was pressed to her neck for a long time until he pulled back and smiled down at Isabella. Derek took longer holding her too, rocking his arms slightly and keeping her tucked in warm. Finally, reluctantly, he handed her to Isaac, then Boyd, Cora, Danny, and Jackson who all repeated the process. When they were done Allison and Lydia had a quiet argument over who got to hold her next.

“I had sex with him,” Lydia said loudly. “I should get to hold his kid before you.”

Stiles groaned.

Lydia won and pulled the baby into her body happily. “Oh,” she said sweetly. “You are beautiful. And when you get older I am going to take you shopping because your dad has no fashion sense.”

“Hey!” Stiles complained. “I’m fine.”

“Not really,” Allison said with an apologetic smile. “My turn.”

Lydia sighed but handed Isabella to Allison who took her gently. “Stiles,” she said quietly. “She’s amazing.”

“She is now,” Melissa said. “Just wait until she needs to be changed or throws up or won’t stop crying and then none of you will be as smitten with her.”

“I will be,” Stiles said quietly. “I…she’s just…I will be.”

Melissa walked over to him and pulled him into a hug. “You’re going to be a wonderful father, Stiles.”

Stiles blinked back the wetness from his eyes. “I hope so.”

Melissa pulled away and demanded the baby from Allison. Isabella fell asleep about two minutes after Melissa started holding her and Stiles collected his daughter to walk her upstairs for the very first nap in her bassinette. Stiles ran his fingers along the wolf carving at the top of the bassinette and smiled.



Sophia never came back to Stiles’ house except to collect her things. She went and stayed at a hotel in town until she felt up to leaving. She didn’t see Isabella again before she left - one week after she’d given birth.



The first week of Isabella’s life was not some of Stiles’ most fabulous moments.

He loved her but he only had some experience with younger cousins and he honestly had no idea what he was doing. Melissa and his father were the only things that kept Stiles from hiding in a closet. They taught him what to do when she cried, the best way to change her, the way to feed her that made her swallow less air, the way to burp her.

Most of the week was a blur but he remembered a lot of crying - he wasn’t above admitting that some of it was his own tears.



By the second week he still felt like an utter idiot.

He had worked out the right temperature for her formula and how it felt against his wrist. And he hadn’t had one of her nappies fall off for days. But she kept crying at him sometimes and he simply didn’t know what to do. Then his father would come in and fix it.

“Oh she just needs a hug.”
“She is probably a little tired.”
“Isabella is just hungry.”
“My Bella doesn’t need to be burped she just wants some cuddles.”

Stiles tried very hard not to hide in a corner and weep over the fact he was a terrible, useless father who didn’t know his own daughter. He tried not to resent his father for so obviously being better at this than he was. Stiles tried not to look at Isabella sometimes and wonder why she didn’t have a manual or think that he couldn’t do this. If he couldn’t work out when she was tired how was he ever going to raise her. Stiles loved her, he loved her so much it terrified him, but she also scared him a little…a lot. He didn’t want to admit that to anyone though.

Stiles put her into bed one night, after he had finally worked out the way to support her when he was giving her a bath. He counted it as a win and managed a smile as he closed the door behind him.

As it turned out the feeling was a false sense of pride and accomplishment.

It was a Wednesday morning and Stiles wanted to crawl into the attic and hide from his eleven day old daughter.

“Stiles,” his father said, walking into the house carrying some shopping. “Scott is...”

Stiles walked into the room holding Isabella and his father just stared at him.

“Whoa,” Scott said, as soon as he stepped into the house. “Crazy eyes.”

“I’ve tried everything,” Stiles said, bouncing with Isabella tucked into his chest. “She doesn’t want to eat or sleep. I’ve hugged and bounced and walked and sung. I checked her nappy and I’ve felt her forehead. She won’t stop.”

Stiles’ father just looked at him.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Stiles wasn’t sure who started walking towards him first, his father or Scott. His father stopped in front him, his eyes crinkled with worry. Scott stood at his father’s side and looked scared.

“You need to calm down.” Sam said.

“You keep saying that to me,” Stiles said…said, not whined. “But I don’t know how to calm down.”

His father sighed. “I know.”

“Can I hold my goddaughter?” Scott asked.

Stiles nodded and handed her over.

Scott held her happily and started walking out of the room.

“Go and have a shower.”

Stiles blinked at his father.

“Go and have a long, hot shower and calm down. She will be fine but you need to trust yourself. Have a break and just relax.”

“Dad.”

Sam rested his hands on Stiles’ shoulders. “You can do this. Do you know how I know you can do this?”

Stiles shook his head.

“Because I was terrified when you were born. Your mother and I both were. You were tiny and completely dependent on us. You were terrifying. I loved you just as much as I do now but I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.”

“You always know what she needs.”

Sam smiled at his son. “Because I had you, I know she won’t fall apart and I’m calm.”

“I know,” Stiles said. “I just need to calm down.”

“Easier said than done,” Sam said, with a gentle smile.

Stiles’ shoulders slumped.

“Go and have a shower, Scott is here to spend some time with her.”

“She’s mine and I don’t know how to do this.”

“You’ll learn.”

Stiles watched his father walk away from him carrying the shopping into the kitchen. He didn’t feel any better than he did before his father got home.

How did you calm down when you were terrified?



Stiles wrapped his hands around the steering wheel and drove slowly up Derek’s driveway. It wasn’t the first time he had driven somewhere with Isabella but he still felt nervous with her in the back of the car. He knew Derek, and the rest of the pack, would know that he was on his way already. Stiles hadn’t been out to Derek’s since Isabella had been born. Mainly, it was just the pack coming to see him freaking out and then spending time with Isabella who seemed to love anyone who would hold her.

Stiles cleared the last of the trees and smiled when he saw Lydia and Derek standing on the porch. Lydia’s hands on her hips as she waited - impatiently, to get her hands on Isabella. Stiles parked the car and slipped out of his seat. He almost expected Lydia to get to the car before he had even managed to turn the engine off. As he climbed out, though, she was standing on the porch and Derek was moving towards him.

“Hey, Derek.”

“Stiles.”

“Did you make the rest of the pack stay inside?” Stiles asked, with a smirk. He moved around the car and opened the door to pull Isabella out of her car seat.

“May I?”

Stiles nodded and handed Isabella to Derek. The alpha werewolf never failed to surprise Stiles. He kept assuming that Derek wouldn’t want to hold Isabella or to spend time with her and yet Derek kept coming by the house - he had started coming for breakfast again just a couple of weeks after Isabella had been born. Stiles tried not to rely on Derek’s presence too much but somehow he found himself slightly more relaxed when the werewolf was there. Honestly, the whole pack had been helpful in keeping Stiles from going nuts. But, Derek was the most supportive and Stiles knew it was a bad idea to get so attached to someone who would just end up hurting him but he couldn’t stop himself at this point even if he wanted to.

Stiles watched Derek as he turned around and walked towards the house. Stiles leaned back into the car and grabbed Isabella’s bag before he followed Derek and his daughter into the alpha’s house. He watched Derek walk straight past Lydia’s grabby fingers and into the house.

Stiles stopped next to the redhead rather than continuing inside. “Why didn’t you grab her off him like you do to everyone else?”

Lydia’s eyebrow rose and she glared at him.

“What?”

Lydia sighed and threaded her arm into his elbow. “It doesn’t work like that with him.”

Stiles laughed. “So, you can steal her off everyone else, including my dad, but not off Derek.”

“No,” Lydia said, sounding like he was the stupidest man she had ever met. It was an impressive tone given how stupid she thought most people were. “Derek is quite taken with your daughter.”

“She’s kind of amazing…when she’s not crying.”

Lydia laughed. “Is it getting any easier?”

“No,” Stiles said, pathetically. “And yes. I don’t even know. How do people do this with twins…or triplets…or god, I just don’t get it. Except, then I look at her sometimes and I love her so much.”

“I love her and she’s not even mine. She is amazing. Though, I would have been happy if you’d had twins.”

Stiles gaped at her in horror.



“Dad!” Stiles called out. “Come here.”

Sam walked into the room at a slight rush. “What?”

“She’s smiling at me.” Stiles turned slightly so that his father could see Isabella.

His father smiled but it wasn’t a proper grin.

“What?”

His father grimaced slightly. “I think that’s wind.”

Stiles deflated. “But…”

His father shook his head. “You’re right it’s a smile. A very nice smile.”

“Oh, sugar! I was excited.”

“Sorry,” his father said apologetically.

“I don’t believe you,” Stiles said, annoyed.

Sam laughed. “That’s because I don’t mean it.”



Stiles woke up on a Monday knowing that his father was going back to work. He was not looking forward to it. As much as he knew he couldn’t rely on his father forever the fact of it was that Stiles really wasn’t sure that he could do this alone. He took a deep breath and pulled himself out of bed hearing Isabella moving around in her bassinette. Having her right there made things easier in the middle of the night but Stiles was always worried he might wake her accidently when he was moving around his room. He hoped it would be easier when she was in her own room next door. He sat up and as soon as he moved he knew he needed to get up and use the toilet.

Stiles slipped out of bed as quietly as he could but as soon as he had pulled the door almost closed behind him he could hear Isabella start to make proper, awake noises behind him. Stiles dropped his head and sighed as he went to the bathroom.

He was heading back to his room but when he made it to the door he stopped. There was silence inside, not even the sleepy noises she made when she was first waking up and Stiles was still right there in his own bed. He closed his eyes and debated going in to check on her and just staying outside when he heard his father downstairs. Stiles turned and walked down the stairs slowly. As he turned into the kitchen he found his father cradling Isabella and feeding her. She was looking up at him happily and drinking with the same gusto she did every morning.

“Hey, Dad,” Stiles said, before dropping some toast into the toaster and smiling happily at the almost full coffee pot. He got himself a large mugful and then continued on to kiss his daughter on the head. He didn’t move to take her out of his father’s arms and she barely reacted to his kiss as she continued to drink happily.

“You all ready for a day alone?”

Stiles looked at his father whose face twisted into something like humour and then suddenly his eyes darkened.

“You look exactly like your mother did the first time I went back to work after you were born,” he said quietly. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“Dad…”

Sam shook his head. “She would have loved to see this.”

Stiles smiled gently.

“Oh yeah, she would have liked more kids and…this would have made her happy.”

“We will have to tell Isabella about her.”

“Oh yes,” Sam said, looking down at his granddaughter. “We’ll tell Bella all about her Nana.”

“Are you going to give her to me at some point?” Stiles asked, as he buttered his toast.

“When I absolutely have to leave,” his father said, and carried Isabella out of the kitchen with him.

Stiles couldn’t even think about his father actually leaving so he ate his breakfast slowly as he heard his father moving around the house and talking to Isabella.

He could do it, he’d been doing it for the last few weeks already but his father was always there. He had been thankful of his father’s many untaken vacation days. That was all over now…well it wasn’t because his father was a hermit and had an insane number of vacation days left but it was finally time for Stiles to stop relying on his father and do this himself.

For the next eight hours Stiles would be alone. He had been expecting this but it was still scary. He had gotten better over the last few weeks. They had a rhythm - suggested by Melissa and his father to give Izzy some structure and to save Stiles’ sanity. Stiles knew he could do everything that needed to be done and he was looking forward to learning how to do this alone even if he was worried about it. The stupidest thing was that he did things alone all the time. His father had been making sure that he was alone at different times all over the place. Stiles knew it was mostly just him worrying for no real reason.

Stiles shook himself and stood. He could do this. He and Isabella were getting better together every day. He was having more moments where he knew what he was doing rather than those where he felt like the crappiest father that had ever lived. In fact, he was probably getting good at this father thing finally. He caught sight of his father and daughter in the lounge room and knew that they were going to have a good day.

Finally, it was that time and Stiles accepted Isabella with a smile. She looked up at him and Stiles felt his chest tighten - it would just be the two of them for the rest of the day.



Stiles opened the door without paying it much attention. He kept bouncing trying to sooth Isabella.

“Come on, baby girl,” he said. “Please, just stop crying.”

Stiles startled at the hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find Derek standing in front of him.

“When did you get here?”

Derek frowned at him, then reached over and pulled Isabella out of Stiles’ arms. Derek’s eyes bled red for a moment and Stiles was reaching for his arm when Isabella stopped crying.

Stiles slumped back into the wall behind him. “She’s been screaming since Dad left.”

Derek pulled Isabella in closer to him and she let out a loud breath and then was silent.

“How did you do that?”

“Babies like the eyes, and the growling, and pulling the sideburns.”

“Really?”

“It’s like Santa.”

Stiles started to laugh. Then found he couldn’t stop.

“Stiles.” Stiles looked up at Derek but couldn’t stop laughing. “She’s asleep.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Marry me?”

Derek looked at him silently.

Stiles shrugged. “Worth a try. I’ll put her down.”

“I’ll do it,” Derek said, and walked through the lounge room and up the stairs.

Stiles walked over to the couch and sunk down into the cushions. He heard Derek coming down the stairs behind him. “I’m not sure I can do this.”

“Of course you can.”

“It was the first time I’ve been completely alone with her. Dad’s gone back to work and I couldn’t even get her to stop screaming.”

“You reek of nerves and anxiety.”

“What?”

“She was tense because you’re tense.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, next time just stop and breathe. It might help.”

Stiles tried not to be annoyed that everyone, fucking everyone, kept telling him to calm down. As though it was easy to calm down when you were a new father.



“Oh thank God,” Stiles said, when he opened the door. He pushed Isabella into Jackson’s arms and twisted around to sprint back into the kitchen.

“Stiles!” Jackson moaned loudly.

Stiles waved a hand over his head. “Dinner is burning. Just hold her a minute.”

Jackson looked down at Isabella in his arms and made a pathetic noise. Isabella’s face collapsed, scrunched into something angry and sad and then she began to cry. Jackson held her in front of him and walked into the house. He kicked the door closed behind him as Isabella continued to cry in his hands. He walked all the way to the kitchen, holding her under the arms while her legs kicked and she cried. Stiles put the hot dish down on the counter and then turned and laughed.

“You shouldn’t hold her like that.”

“I don’t know how to hold her.”

“And I thought I was bad at this.” Stiles said, with a laugh. “Here, pull her into your chest, tuck your arm under her bottom and use the other hand to support her back and neck. Yeah, just like that.”

Isabella continued to cry.

“Just rock a little,” Stiles suggested, grabbing Jackson’s shoulders to make him rock from side to side. “Okay, you need to calm down. You are so tense.”

Jackson shook his head and held Isabella out to Stiles who took her happily and rocked her until she was happy again. He didn’t think about the hypocrisy of what he’d said to Jackson…he made sure not to.



Stiles drove back to his house slowly. It had been a long day at the paper - he had been mainly working at home since Isabella had been born but he still needed to go into the actual offices occasionally. Today was supposed to be a half day - just the morning but he had walked to his desk to find it covered in paper. The editor had looked apologetic but hopeful. Luckily for Stiles, and his boss, Sam had the day off so he happily agreed to look after his granddaughter while Stiles threw himself at all of the work he needed to do until it was all done. He just wanted a shower, and something to eat, and to give his daughter a hug. He rarely spent this much time away from her…in fact, he didn’t think he had spent that much time away from Izzy since she had been born, nowhere close to a full day.

Stiles finally turned into his driveway and turned the car off. He dropped his head down onto the steering wheel and took a few deep breaths. He was looking forward to seeing Isabella but at the same time he was tired and he knew he had to be better than that for her. He took a few minutes to calm down before he opened the door and grabbed his work bag - full of the new work that he had been given just before he left the paper’s offices, and headed inside.

The closer he got to the door he began to notice quiet cries that were coming through the wood. Stiles frowned and quickened his steps. He slid the key into the lock and opened the door to find Lydia standing in the living room holding a whimpering Isabella.

“Lydia?”

Lydia turned and walked to him immediately.

“Thank God you’re here,” she said with a sigh, Isabella was crying still but she was looking at Stiles, her arms reaching out. Stiles dumped his bag and stepped closer to pick Isabella up out of Lydia’s arms.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“It’s my fault,” Lydia said, her voice week. “I didn’t realise how close we were to the arm of the chair and I knocked her head. I didn’t think it was that hard but she started to cry and she wouldn’t stop. I’m so sorry, Stiles.”

Stiles felt his stomach clench in immediate panic and held Isabella a little tighter. She gave a little whimpering sob and then sagged in his arms. He twisted down to look down at her. She was blinking at him but she was no longer crying.

“Did you freak out first or did she cry?” Stiles and Lydia both turned immediately for the doorway where Stiles’ dad was standing holding a take-away bag.

The worried look on Lydia’s face smoothed out a touch. “I think it might have been me.”

“Then feel her head, Stiles. If she doesn’t react to anything and you can’t feel anything then she is probably just reacting to Lydia getting worried. Our little girl is very sensitive to other people’s moods.”

“She calmed right down as soon as Stiles had her.”

“Of course she did,” Sam said, walking into the kitchen and talking over his shoulder. “He’s her dad.”

Stiles bit down on his lip to hold in the smile as he felt his way around her head. There was nothing he could feel, or see, and Isabella was happily snuggled into his chest so Stiles unwrapped one of his arms from around Isabella and wrapped it around Lydia instead pulling her into his side.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you ruffled about anything that badly since you found out you were a banshee.”

Lydia petted the soft hair on the top of Isabella’s head and dropped her own head down onto Stiles’ shoulder. “I quite like your daughter.”

Stiles smiled. “She’s just that brilliant. It’s a Stilinski thing.”

Lydia nodded and Stiles could feel her about to say something else when the front door opened again.

“Sam, I was able to find…” Derek stopped when he saw Stiles, Lydia and Isabella standing there together.

“Hey, Derek.” Stiles said, with a smile.

Lydia pulled away from him and smoothed down her hair. “I’m glad she’s okay.”

“What’s wrong with Isabella?” Derek asked, stepping forward immediately.

“She bumped her head,” Stiles said, turning her so she could see Derek. “But, she’s just fine.”

Derek stopped in front of Stiles and curled his hand around Isabella’s head. She made a few happy noises at Derek and reached out a hand to curl around his thumb. Derek smiled widely down at Isabella and Stiles felt his stomach clench at the sight. It floored him, every damned time, when Derek made it so obvious that he loved Isabella as much as anyone else in the pack did. Derek had pushed everyone away for so long that it was amazing to watch him let Isabella in without a fight. Stiles didn’t know what he would do without his friends and somehow Derek was the one who had flourished the most having Isabella in their life. Stiles would never have expected to one day walk in on Derek laying on the floor with Isabella and making her smile with stuffed, singing toys.

Stiles simply needed to keep reminding himself not to misinterpret Derek’s affection for Isabella as being affection, beyond friendship, for Stiles.



Stiles placed Isabella on her stomach on the mat and dropped down so that he was facing her.

“Do no throw up,” he instructed, not that he honestly thought it would stop her from doing it.

She lifted her torso up onto her elbows and looked up at him.

The doorbell rang.

“Come in,” Stiles called over his shoulder.

“You really are an idiot,” Jackson said, moments later.

“I know it was one of you,” Stiles said. “It’s always one of you.”

“I wouldn’t have come but Derek needs your Dad’s drill.”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles said. “I utterly forgot. Watch Izzy for me?”

Jackson looked hesitant and then sighed. “Okay. Just hurry up.”

Stiles shook his head and hit Jackson on the shoulder as he walked past. “Don’t be a baby, she’s easy. Just put the froggy down in front of her and she’ll be happy.”

Stiles went out to the shed and found his father’s drill. By the time he made it back inside Isabella was bawling at the top of her lungs and Stiles rushed back into the lounge room.

“What happened?”

“She started crying.”

Stiles dropped the drill box and other things down onto the couch and sunk onto the floor in front of his daughter. Jackson moved back and away as quickly as he could - and without any of his usual grace. Stiles paid him no attention as he scooped Isabella up and pulled her close.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, Daddy’s here. Shhhh,” Stiles rubbed circles on Isabella’s back and bobbed up and down murmuring more against the soft, feathery hair behind her ear. “What happened?” Stiles asked as soon as Isabella quietened.

“You left and she started to cry. I tried the frog but she just bawled.”

Stiles frowned and grabbed Isabella’s bear blankie off the couch. She curled her arm around the material toy and was instantly silent.

“You’re okay,” Stiles said, to his daughter, “it’s just Jackson, he’s not so scary.”

Jackson huffed and grabbed the drill. “I’m leaving.”

“Bye,” Stiles said, not bothering to show him to the door; focussing on Isabella instead.



Stiles closed his eyes and took a fortifying breath before he started to undo Isabella’s nappy. He gagged a little in the back of his throat and then powered through. As soon as the nappy was done he happily threw it away and smiled at his daughter as she grabbed for her toes, bending herself in half. Then she stopped and shoved one of her hands into her mouth, kicking her feet on the change mat.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute,” Stiles said, with a smile.

He bent down and blew a raspberry on her stomach causing her to pull the fingers from her mouth and give him a drool-filled grin. He left her naked for a few more minutes of naked time hoping that she didn’t pee on him again like she did last time. Stiles had spent half of his time without Isabella either working or reading up on parenting information. His father continued to say that he shouldn’t be so concerned with what the books or websites were telling him were the best things for Isabella because she was unique and they had to learn her just like she had to fit into their lives. Stiles wasn’t sure that she was fitting into his life so much as he was fairly certain she had taken one look at him after she was born and realised that he could be wrapped around her little finger with next to no effort. Stiles knew he was running around after her like the proverbial headless chicken but he still didn’t feel like he had caught up - that he would never catch up. He felt like he would be playing catch up to his daughter for the rest of his life and it was a vaguely terrifying prospect. So, he read - he read books on parenting from the library and he read websites and he researched everything he could because all he wanted to do was do the very best he could for Isabella and so far he didn’t even really feel like he knew which way was up some days.

Then others, like today, she woke up and smiled at him as he scooped her out of bed, she drank her bottle down happily and for the rest of the day he felt like the best father in the history of the world. He took her out with him while he hung the washing and she bounced in her pram gumming at the soft, cotton hand of the doll she had been given by Melissa. Isabella had fallen asleep when they went for a walk in the weak sunlight and by the time she had woken Stiles had managed to get his work done for the day and was all ready to make Isabella’s bottle when she started to make noises in her pram. She had happily lain on the mat while he sat next to her and ate his own lunch. Stiles’ father was due home soon and Stiles knew he should go and sort out something for dinner but he put his hands on either side of Isabella and loomed over her making faces until she wriggled and made the noise he had decided was definitely the beginnings of a giggle.

The door opened downstairs and Stiles quickly put a nappy on Isabella’s backside even though she looked up at him sadly as her naked time was taken away.

“Stiles,” Sam called, quietly up the stairs.

“Up here, Dad,” Stiles called back, and handed Isabella back her doll.

Sam walked in still wearing his uniform and smiled at Isabella whose arms and legs started moving quickly in excitement. Sam bent down to kiss his granddaughter on the head.

“I’m going to go and have a quick shower,” Sam said with a sigh. “Then I think it should be time for Grandad-Isabella time.”

“And then I can cook dinner,” Stiles said, pulling Isabella up and into his chest. “How was your day?”

“Long,” Sam said with a sigh. “It’s better now, having seen my Isabella.”

Stiles bounced his daughter in his arms and smiled at his father. “That’s good isn’t it, Bella, making Grandad feel better about his day.”

Sam smiled, tiredly, and shook his head at Stiles. “You don’t like calling her Bella.”

“But that is what you call her,” Stiles said. “Go and shower and we’ll be in the lounge room.”

Stiles went down and put some music on before he settled down on the sofa and held Isabella close while they waited for Sam to come and claim his granddaughter for the night. This was often how their nights went. Sam would come home and declare it was Granddad-Isabella time and they would spend time together until it was bath time. If Sam was working in the evening Sam would spend at least an hour before work with her. It was something that Stiles enjoyed - a short break was always nice, and he loved seeing how much they enjoyed one another.



“Dad!” Stiles said breathlessly, into the phone.

“Your dad’s in the shower.”

“Derek?”

“I came over to borrow your dad’s drill.”

“I should say something dirty there,” Stiles said, “but, I’m stuck in goddamn Lewis. Some fucking idiot has parked and blocked me in. I can’t get out and Dad has to go to work.”

“Relax.”

“How the hell am I supposed to relax when I can’t get home? Dad has to go to work, and he has to because two of his deputies are sick and that leaves me with no one to look after Izzy.”

“I’ll look after her.”

“But…”

“But,” Derek interrupted. “I am her godfather - or would be if you got the christening organised, and she likes me. I will look after her until you are able to get home. Don’t stress, don’t rush, and don’t worry.”

Stiles took a deep breath and looked at his car and the fact that he would never get it out and he would be stuck waiting for the arsehole who didn’t know how to park.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll see you later, Stiles. Is and I will have a great time.”

“If anything goes wrong call me.”

Derek scoffed and hung up on him.

Two hours later when Stiles finally, fucking finally, got home it was to find Derek watching television in the lounge room with Isabella asleep on his chest.

“She fell asleep after dinner,” Derek said, smiling up at him. “I know it was too early.”

Stiles shrugged and bent down to kiss Isabella on the head - the woodsy, cinnamon smell of Derek overtaking the smell of Isabella. “She will just have to wake Grandad up extra early in the morning.”

“He’s working nights,” Derek pointed out. “Shouldn’t he get to sleep in?”

Stiles smiled at Derek and shook his head. “He can’t help himself and then falls asleep again when she is having her naps.”

Derek twisted his head down to look at Isabella and Stiles wondered for a moment what it would be like to sleep on that chest with the heavy beat of the werewolf’s heart under his ear. Stiles shook his thoughts off.

“I’ll make some dinner. Do you want me to take her up to bed first?”

“No, she’s comfortable,” Derek said. “Unless you need some help.”

“I’ve got it under control.”

Yet, a few minutes later, Derek was standing in the kitchen door with Isabella still wrapped in his arm, the other tanned arm tucked under her backside.

“You can put her down.”

Derek looked down and Stiles swore he could see the hints of a flush on his cheeks. “It’s important that she knows the scents of pack and that her scent is as familiar to me as yours.”

“My scent is that familiar to you?”

“As familiar as any member of the pack,” Derek said, but his eyes didn’t quite meet Stiles’.



TBC...
Masterpost | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

derek/stiles, fic: my isabella, fic, tw-bigbang, teen wolf, fiction, pg-13 fic

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