Fic: finding a shiny
Author: tryslora
Title: finding a shiny
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: pre Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles, kid!Erica, kid!Isaac, pack mentions
Summary: Derek takes his kids to the store to buy the new Pokémon game and finds something completely different.
Warnings: None
Content Notes: Alternate Canon, Erica and Isaac are Twins, Erica and Isaac are Derek’s & Kate’s kids, past teen fatherhood, accidental worldbuilding
Submission Type: FIc
Word Count: 2,341 words
Prompt: #209 - Pokemon
Author's Notes: I started with the premise of Stiles being cute interacting with single-dad-Derek’s kids, and somehow ended up… somewhere else. This is hot off the fingertips and absolutely unbetaed. Oh, and for those who don’t know-a shiny is an alternate Pokémon and it’s like a one in a lot of chances to find one when you catch a new Pokémon (from what I understand from my son). Many thanks to my fifteen year old for supplying his favorite shiny information for use in this story (Salazzle is pretty!).
Derek barely manages to get the door to the comic shop open before Erica and Isaac push past him and rush inside. They make a beeline for the display of Nintendo DS games, and Derek knows that they have definitely been lying about whether they’re stopping anywhere on their walk home from school.
He has to remember, they’re twelve now. Practically teenagers. When he was that age, he roamed the Preserve with Laura constantly. He can’t worry about them getting lost on the way home from school, even they do make a few stops.
Erica turns around, a box in her hand, brandishing it. “I choose Moon!” she shouts, lisping over the fresh braces on her upper teeth.
Isaac’s got a different box in his hands, cradled close as he reads the packaging. “Sun,” he says when Derek gets closer. “We can trade when we’re done with them. That way we get to play both sides of the game.” His voice is low and quiet, head ducking when he can’t quite get the words out the way he thinks he should be able to.
There’s a part of Derek that wants to ask is this what they really want, and if Pokémon’s too young for them now. But Erica’s already rushed off to the counter and plunked the box down, her curls bouncing around her.
“He’s paying,” Erica says to the guy behind the counter, jabbing her finger in Derek’s direction.
“Right, I’m not your father, just a guy with a wallet you dragged in from the street,” Derek says dryly. “Erica, be polite.”
“We haven’t been coming in.” At twelve, Isaac’s already as tall as Derek’s shoulder, thin and wiry. His low voice is a murmur. “We’ve looked in the window a lot, but we knew you’d be pissed off if we came in because everyone’s old when we come by.”
“Next year,” Derek offers quietly. “Next year, when you’re thirteen, and you’re in eighth grade. Just give me a little time to deal with the idea that you two are growing up.”
By the time they reach the counter, the guy has a DS out and is showing something to Erica.
“What’s your favorite shiny?” Erica asks. “That you’ve actually caught,” she clarifies, like that means something. It’s a whole different language to Derek, but that entices Isaac to step forward as well.
The guy looks up, amber eyes wide. “Hey, daddy dude, I hope you don’t mind. She saw that I was playing and she wanted to see what I’ve got.”
Derek raises his hands. “Go on, it’s fine. Erica will bowl you over if you give her the chance. She got all the outgoing between the two of them.”
“That’s okay,” Isaac murmurs. “I got all the pretty.”
Erica whips around. “Hey! I’ve got pretty everything.”
Isaac smirks. “You do. Just not as pretty as me.”
“Are they like this all the time?” The guy-Stiles according to his name tag-comes around the counter and joins them in front.
“Pretty much,” Derek admits. Erica’s reaching for the DS, but Stiles just raises it in the air and keeps it just out of reach. Derek’s impressed by his calm in dealing with his hellions. It’s not like they were raised by wolves or anything.
He wants to hiss act human, but Stiles is close enough that he might actually hear if he does, so Derek just says quietly, “Erica. Behave.”
“Heel,” Stiles says, and when Erica shoots him a dark look, he ignores her, leaning back against the counter. “If you want to see the best shiny, take a look at this.”
“You got a shiny Salazzle?” Erica gasps. “They’re hard to find.”
“And pretty.” Isaac ducks when Erica reaches past Stiles to swat at him. “I didn’t say prettier than you,” he protests.
Derek gets his wallet out. “Look, why don’t we get your games paid for, so you can start playing and stop bothering Stiles here.”
“Wait, how did you-oh.” Stiles touches his name tag. “You know, I make everyone who works here wear one, and then I forget when I’m wearing mine. So hey, yeah, hi guys, I’m Stiles, and I own this place, and if you have any questions about Pokémon, just feel free to ask.” He holds out his hand and solemnly shakes Erica’s hand first, then Isaac’s. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been playing Pokémon since before you were born.”
“You’re what, eighteen?” Derek says dryly, handing over his credit card.
Stiles’s eyebrows go up. “Dude, no. Didn’t you hear me say that this is my place? Cooperative venture with my best friend Scott and his wife. I’m twenty-five.”
“It’s okay. You just look young like Dad looks old.” Isaac holds up his box. “Do you need to scan this or something, or can we go open up our games and start playing?”
“You have a DS in your pocket?” Stiles asks.
Erica snorts. “Of course.”
Stiles waves them away, and they dart over to one of the tables. It’s covered in green felt and there are some kind of figures set up on it, but that doesn’t stop the kids from using it while the tear open their boxes to get at the games inside.
Stiles takes his time walking around the counter so he can ring up the purchase. “So. Derek,” he says as he glances at the card. “You only look old?”
“Twenty-nine,” Derek almost growls, flashing a quick glare at his twins. He catches a scent of confusion and sudden interest, and barely contains a second flash when he looks back at Stiles. “What?”
Stiles pushes the card across the counter along with a slip for Derek to sign. “You got married young, like my bro.”
“Never actually got married,” Derek admits. “It was complicated. She was older, not actually interested in kids, and there were… complications to all of it.” He closes his mouth, jaw tense. “And I have no idea why I’m telling you any of that.”
“I work with Deaton.”
The words fall flat between them, and when Derek looks up, Stiles is rolling up his sleeve, showing a looping, winding pattern of ink that runs up his arm. “I’ve been apprenticing since I was sixteen. So I might know a thing or two about falling into complicated situations young.”
It feels like the air’s been punched from his lungs. “I had no idea Deaton had an apprentice,” Derek says slowly. “We didn’t keep in touch when I left Beacon Hills, and he didn’t mention when I came back.”
Stiles leans on the counter, lowers his voice. “You’re the Hale that came back last summer.”
Derek glances over at his kids, but they’re completely involved in their new games. When he looks back, Stiles has one eyebrow raised, waiting. “Yes. I wanted my kids to grow up with the Preserve. We’ll move out there when construction finishes. Laura swears she’s going to bring her family soon. Deaton told me there’s a rumor that Cora is in Brazil.”
“More than a rumor,” Stiles says. “Or rather, I’m the source of that rumor. Problem is, Cora has no idea she’s a Hale. She was what, twelve when the fire happened? It hit her hard.” He taps the side of his head. “She doesn’t remember anything. And she’s happy there.”
Derek’s hands clench. “Oh. He didn’t say.”
“I asked him not to. I was going to go back, see if there was a way to loosen up her memory,” Stiles admits. “I bumped into her completely by accident, and honestly, she looks just like she did when we were twelve and she used to yell at me for talking too much in class. I just haven’t had the chance to get back there yet.”
Derek’s gaze drifts to his twins. “I’d ask about going with you, but I can’t.”
“Intercontinental road trip for our first date? That’s a pretty strong start,” Stiles quips, flushing when Derek turns to look at him sharply. Stiles gets his hands up quickly. “Look, sorry, no assumptions, I just flirt with everything that breathes. Ignore everything that comes out of my mouth; it’s easier that way.”
“Dad likes guys,” Isaac says, his tone absolutely conversational, his focus on the game in front of him. “I heard him and Aunt Laura talking about it.”
“Isaac.” Derek doesn’t bother to contain the growl, letting his eyes flash a bright blue. He knows he’s got his point across when Isaac and Erica both look at him, eyes wide and flashing yellow, then duck their gazes away.
“Your kids are precious little delights, I see,” Stiles says dryly. “Anyway, I had a point, before I got distracted. Deaton mentioned you were back in town, and Scott’s been meaning to find you and talk to you. There hasn’t been a Hale around, he’s a bitten were, not a born wolf, but he’s also an accidental alpha.” Stiles worries at his lip, waves his hand in the air. “Not the killing kind of alpha-the ascended due to being pure and good kind. Which, let me tell you, it’s a chore trying to live up to the whole True Alpha thing; none of the rest of the pack is nearly as good as he is. Point is, we have a pack, here in Beacon Hills, and you should, well… you should meet up with us. Besides.” Stiles’s expression goes serious. “I’m pretty sure you want to meet Scott’s wife.”
Derek raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Her name is Allison Argent.”
Derek takes a quick step back from the counter. Both of his children stand, games left on the table as they come to flank their father, squeezing in tight. Erica looks up at him worriedly. “Dad?”
“I’m okay.” He’s not. He’s far from okay, and he knows they know it, but he’s gotten good at faking it over the years.
“She’s married to a werewolf,” Stiles points out. “And you don’t even want to know what her father-that’s Kate’s older brother-is doing. Or rather, I don’t want to know what he’s doing. I mean, I really, really don’t want to know what he’s doing.” Stiles shakes his head, rubs a hand across his face as if it could clear his mind. “But I’m sure she’d like to meet your kids.”
Derek forces himself to relax. “Erica, Isaac-go get your things together.”
Stiles tilts his head. “Is that it, then? You’re just going to walk away?”
“No.” Derek approaches the counter, places both hands atop the cool glass and leans over it, getting as close to Stiles as he can before he inhales. He tastes the magic on his skin, like a flicker of electricity across his tongue. There’s the rough scent of fur, and the dry earth under that. And something like wood, deep and ancient, burning inside of his heart.
As Derek pushes back, Stiles is still standing there, head slightly tilted, neck extended. Derek reaches one finger out and touches him just behind the ear, draws a line from the pulse point down the line of his throat. He pulls back just before he reaches Stiles’s collar, still feeling the suddenly rapid flutter of his heart.
“Uh, Dad?” Isaac says.
Derek lowers his hand. “Laura’s visiting this weekend, and she’s staying in the Hyatt. I’ll book a banquet room. You let me know how many people to plan for.”
“I’ll need your number for that,” Stiles points out, hand shaking as he pushes a piece of paper and pen across the counter.
Derek scribbles his name and number on the paper, passes it back. “How many do you estimate being there?”
Stiles ticks names off on his fingers. “Scott and Allison. Malia and Kira. Jackson and Lydia and Jordan. Hayden and Liam. Mason and Corey. Danny. My Dad, Chris, Melissa. Lydia’s mom will probably avoid this like the plague; she likes to pretend that the supernatural doesn’t exist. Oh, and Deaton. That’s assuming we can get everyone here. I forgot Hayden’s sister, she’ll probably want to be here, but I don’t know if we can get Dad, Jordan, and Valerie all at once.” He glances over at Derek. “Dad remembers you. I might have an idea of just how complicated things were.” Stiles nods at the twins, and Derek is thankful that Stiles doesn’t go into any more detail than that.
“Doesn’t anyone else have kids?” Erica grumbles. “I mean, really. Are we going to be stuck with just our cousins?”
“Allison’s pregnant, and Kira and Malia are trying,” Stiles says. “And we’ve been looking into fostering orphaned kids who are difficult placements.” He uses air quotes, and Derek understands that to mean hunting down supernatural kids who are falling through the cracks in the system.
“That’s not a bad idea. We can talk about that.”
Erica’s gaze narrows. “We like having you to ourselves.”
“We like helping people, too,” Isaac adds, putting a hand over his sister’s mouth. “Let Dad talk about it.”
“I think we have a lot of things to talk about.” Stiles’s heartbeat is finally steady again, a solid thrum underlining the conversation. Derek is tempted to reach out again, curious if he can create another uptick, but not with curious eyes watching.
“I think we do.” Derek meets Stiles’s gaze, keeping his own steady. “Let me know who’s coming for sure. We’ll see you Saturday.”
Erica’s hand tangles with Derek’s. “We came in for our games, but we found a pack,” she says quietly, glancing sideways at Stiles. “That’s kind of like hunting Pokémon and coming up with a shiny.”
“Just as good,” Stiles agrees. “Just as lucky.”
“Aren’t you glad we dragged you in here?” Isaac asks.
“You’re just trying to justify spending money and being spoiled,” Derek says, but he’s smiling as he says it. He pulls his kids closer, hugs them both. “But yes, I’m glad we came.” He’s looking at Stiles when he says, “It’ll be interesting to see what we find next.”
Title: finding a shiny
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: pre Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles, kid!Erica, kid!Isaac, pack mentions
Summary: Derek takes his kids to the store to buy the new Pokémon game and finds something completely different.
Warnings: None
Content Notes: Alternate Canon, Erica and Isaac are Twins, Erica and Isaac are Derek’s & Kate’s kids, past teen fatherhood, accidental worldbuilding
Submission Type: FIc
Word Count: 2,341 words
Prompt: #209 - Pokemon
Author's Notes: I started with the premise of Stiles being cute interacting with single-dad-Derek’s kids, and somehow ended up… somewhere else. This is hot off the fingertips and absolutely unbetaed. Oh, and for those who don’t know-a shiny is an alternate Pokémon and it’s like a one in a lot of chances to find one when you catch a new Pokémon (from what I understand from my son). Many thanks to my fifteen year old for supplying his favorite shiny information for use in this story (Salazzle is pretty!).
Derek barely manages to get the door to the comic shop open before Erica and Isaac push past him and rush inside. They make a beeline for the display of Nintendo DS games, and Derek knows that they have definitely been lying about whether they’re stopping anywhere on their walk home from school.
He has to remember, they’re twelve now. Practically teenagers. When he was that age, he roamed the Preserve with Laura constantly. He can’t worry about them getting lost on the way home from school, even they do make a few stops.
Erica turns around, a box in her hand, brandishing it. “I choose Moon!” she shouts, lisping over the fresh braces on her upper teeth.
Isaac’s got a different box in his hands, cradled close as he reads the packaging. “Sun,” he says when Derek gets closer. “We can trade when we’re done with them. That way we get to play both sides of the game.” His voice is low and quiet, head ducking when he can’t quite get the words out the way he thinks he should be able to.
There’s a part of Derek that wants to ask is this what they really want, and if Pokémon’s too young for them now. But Erica’s already rushed off to the counter and plunked the box down, her curls bouncing around her.
“He’s paying,” Erica says to the guy behind the counter, jabbing her finger in Derek’s direction.
“Right, I’m not your father, just a guy with a wallet you dragged in from the street,” Derek says dryly. “Erica, be polite.”
“We haven’t been coming in.” At twelve, Isaac’s already as tall as Derek’s shoulder, thin and wiry. His low voice is a murmur. “We’ve looked in the window a lot, but we knew you’d be pissed off if we came in because everyone’s old when we come by.”
“Next year,” Derek offers quietly. “Next year, when you’re thirteen, and you’re in eighth grade. Just give me a little time to deal with the idea that you two are growing up.”
By the time they reach the counter, the guy has a DS out and is showing something to Erica.
“What’s your favorite shiny?” Erica asks. “That you’ve actually caught,” she clarifies, like that means something. It’s a whole different language to Derek, but that entices Isaac to step forward as well.
The guy looks up, amber eyes wide. “Hey, daddy dude, I hope you don’t mind. She saw that I was playing and she wanted to see what I’ve got.”
Derek raises his hands. “Go on, it’s fine. Erica will bowl you over if you give her the chance. She got all the outgoing between the two of them.”
“That’s okay,” Isaac murmurs. “I got all the pretty.”
Erica whips around. “Hey! I’ve got pretty everything.”
Isaac smirks. “You do. Just not as pretty as me.”
“Are they like this all the time?” The guy-Stiles according to his name tag-comes around the counter and joins them in front.
“Pretty much,” Derek admits. Erica’s reaching for the DS, but Stiles just raises it in the air and keeps it just out of reach. Derek’s impressed by his calm in dealing with his hellions. It’s not like they were raised by wolves or anything.
He wants to hiss act human, but Stiles is close enough that he might actually hear if he does, so Derek just says quietly, “Erica. Behave.”
“Heel,” Stiles says, and when Erica shoots him a dark look, he ignores her, leaning back against the counter. “If you want to see the best shiny, take a look at this.”
“You got a shiny Salazzle?” Erica gasps. “They’re hard to find.”
“And pretty.” Isaac ducks when Erica reaches past Stiles to swat at him. “I didn’t say prettier than you,” he protests.
Derek gets his wallet out. “Look, why don’t we get your games paid for, so you can start playing and stop bothering Stiles here.”
“Wait, how did you-oh.” Stiles touches his name tag. “You know, I make everyone who works here wear one, and then I forget when I’m wearing mine. So hey, yeah, hi guys, I’m Stiles, and I own this place, and if you have any questions about Pokémon, just feel free to ask.” He holds out his hand and solemnly shakes Erica’s hand first, then Isaac’s. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been playing Pokémon since before you were born.”
“You’re what, eighteen?” Derek says dryly, handing over his credit card.
Stiles’s eyebrows go up. “Dude, no. Didn’t you hear me say that this is my place? Cooperative venture with my best friend Scott and his wife. I’m twenty-five.”
“It’s okay. You just look young like Dad looks old.” Isaac holds up his box. “Do you need to scan this or something, or can we go open up our games and start playing?”
“You have a DS in your pocket?” Stiles asks.
Erica snorts. “Of course.”
Stiles waves them away, and they dart over to one of the tables. It’s covered in green felt and there are some kind of figures set up on it, but that doesn’t stop the kids from using it while the tear open their boxes to get at the games inside.
Stiles takes his time walking around the counter so he can ring up the purchase. “So. Derek,” he says as he glances at the card. “You only look old?”
“Twenty-nine,” Derek almost growls, flashing a quick glare at his twins. He catches a scent of confusion and sudden interest, and barely contains a second flash when he looks back at Stiles. “What?”
Stiles pushes the card across the counter along with a slip for Derek to sign. “You got married young, like my bro.”
“Never actually got married,” Derek admits. “It was complicated. She was older, not actually interested in kids, and there were… complications to all of it.” He closes his mouth, jaw tense. “And I have no idea why I’m telling you any of that.”
“I work with Deaton.”
The words fall flat between them, and when Derek looks up, Stiles is rolling up his sleeve, showing a looping, winding pattern of ink that runs up his arm. “I’ve been apprenticing since I was sixteen. So I might know a thing or two about falling into complicated situations young.”
It feels like the air’s been punched from his lungs. “I had no idea Deaton had an apprentice,” Derek says slowly. “We didn’t keep in touch when I left Beacon Hills, and he didn’t mention when I came back.”
Stiles leans on the counter, lowers his voice. “You’re the Hale that came back last summer.”
Derek glances over at his kids, but they’re completely involved in their new games. When he looks back, Stiles has one eyebrow raised, waiting. “Yes. I wanted my kids to grow up with the Preserve. We’ll move out there when construction finishes. Laura swears she’s going to bring her family soon. Deaton told me there’s a rumor that Cora is in Brazil.”
“More than a rumor,” Stiles says. “Or rather, I’m the source of that rumor. Problem is, Cora has no idea she’s a Hale. She was what, twelve when the fire happened? It hit her hard.” He taps the side of his head. “She doesn’t remember anything. And she’s happy there.”
Derek’s hands clench. “Oh. He didn’t say.”
“I asked him not to. I was going to go back, see if there was a way to loosen up her memory,” Stiles admits. “I bumped into her completely by accident, and honestly, she looks just like she did when we were twelve and she used to yell at me for talking too much in class. I just haven’t had the chance to get back there yet.”
Derek’s gaze drifts to his twins. “I’d ask about going with you, but I can’t.”
“Intercontinental road trip for our first date? That’s a pretty strong start,” Stiles quips, flushing when Derek turns to look at him sharply. Stiles gets his hands up quickly. “Look, sorry, no assumptions, I just flirt with everything that breathes. Ignore everything that comes out of my mouth; it’s easier that way.”
“Dad likes guys,” Isaac says, his tone absolutely conversational, his focus on the game in front of him. “I heard him and Aunt Laura talking about it.”
“Isaac.” Derek doesn’t bother to contain the growl, letting his eyes flash a bright blue. He knows he’s got his point across when Isaac and Erica both look at him, eyes wide and flashing yellow, then duck their gazes away.
“Your kids are precious little delights, I see,” Stiles says dryly. “Anyway, I had a point, before I got distracted. Deaton mentioned you were back in town, and Scott’s been meaning to find you and talk to you. There hasn’t been a Hale around, he’s a bitten were, not a born wolf, but he’s also an accidental alpha.” Stiles worries at his lip, waves his hand in the air. “Not the killing kind of alpha-the ascended due to being pure and good kind. Which, let me tell you, it’s a chore trying to live up to the whole True Alpha thing; none of the rest of the pack is nearly as good as he is. Point is, we have a pack, here in Beacon Hills, and you should, well… you should meet up with us. Besides.” Stiles’s expression goes serious. “I’m pretty sure you want to meet Scott’s wife.”
Derek raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Her name is Allison Argent.”
Derek takes a quick step back from the counter. Both of his children stand, games left on the table as they come to flank their father, squeezing in tight. Erica looks up at him worriedly. “Dad?”
“I’m okay.” He’s not. He’s far from okay, and he knows they know it, but he’s gotten good at faking it over the years.
“She’s married to a werewolf,” Stiles points out. “And you don’t even want to know what her father-that’s Kate’s older brother-is doing. Or rather, I don’t want to know what he’s doing. I mean, I really, really don’t want to know what he’s doing.” Stiles shakes his head, rubs a hand across his face as if it could clear his mind. “But I’m sure she’d like to meet your kids.”
Derek forces himself to relax. “Erica, Isaac-go get your things together.”
Stiles tilts his head. “Is that it, then? You’re just going to walk away?”
“No.” Derek approaches the counter, places both hands atop the cool glass and leans over it, getting as close to Stiles as he can before he inhales. He tastes the magic on his skin, like a flicker of electricity across his tongue. There’s the rough scent of fur, and the dry earth under that. And something like wood, deep and ancient, burning inside of his heart.
As Derek pushes back, Stiles is still standing there, head slightly tilted, neck extended. Derek reaches one finger out and touches him just behind the ear, draws a line from the pulse point down the line of his throat. He pulls back just before he reaches Stiles’s collar, still feeling the suddenly rapid flutter of his heart.
“Uh, Dad?” Isaac says.
Derek lowers his hand. “Laura’s visiting this weekend, and she’s staying in the Hyatt. I’ll book a banquet room. You let me know how many people to plan for.”
“I’ll need your number for that,” Stiles points out, hand shaking as he pushes a piece of paper and pen across the counter.
Derek scribbles his name and number on the paper, passes it back. “How many do you estimate being there?”
Stiles ticks names off on his fingers. “Scott and Allison. Malia and Kira. Jackson and Lydia and Jordan. Hayden and Liam. Mason and Corey. Danny. My Dad, Chris, Melissa. Lydia’s mom will probably avoid this like the plague; she likes to pretend that the supernatural doesn’t exist. Oh, and Deaton. That’s assuming we can get everyone here. I forgot Hayden’s sister, she’ll probably want to be here, but I don’t know if we can get Dad, Jordan, and Valerie all at once.” He glances over at Derek. “Dad remembers you. I might have an idea of just how complicated things were.” Stiles nods at the twins, and Derek is thankful that Stiles doesn’t go into any more detail than that.
“Doesn’t anyone else have kids?” Erica grumbles. “I mean, really. Are we going to be stuck with just our cousins?”
“Allison’s pregnant, and Kira and Malia are trying,” Stiles says. “And we’ve been looking into fostering orphaned kids who are difficult placements.” He uses air quotes, and Derek understands that to mean hunting down supernatural kids who are falling through the cracks in the system.
“That’s not a bad idea. We can talk about that.”
Erica’s gaze narrows. “We like having you to ourselves.”
“We like helping people, too,” Isaac adds, putting a hand over his sister’s mouth. “Let Dad talk about it.”
“I think we have a lot of things to talk about.” Stiles’s heartbeat is finally steady again, a solid thrum underlining the conversation. Derek is tempted to reach out again, curious if he can create another uptick, but not with curious eyes watching.
“I think we do.” Derek meets Stiles’s gaze, keeping his own steady. “Let me know who’s coming for sure. We’ll see you Saturday.”
Erica’s hand tangles with Derek’s. “We came in for our games, but we found a pack,” she says quietly, glancing sideways at Stiles. “That’s kind of like hunting Pokémon and coming up with a shiny.”
“Just as good,” Stiles agrees. “Just as lucky.”
“Aren’t you glad we dragged you in here?” Isaac asks.
“You’re just trying to justify spending money and being spoiled,” Derek says, but he’s smiling as he says it. He pulls his kids closer, hugs them both. “But yes, I’m glad we came.” He’s looking at Stiles when he says, “It’ll be interesting to see what we find next.”