Knocked Up Sunshine (Sterek)

Chapter 2

"Stiles, I don't understand why we have to see Deaton, I think a general doctor is more appropriate to check your wound," Derek asked as he maneuvers his camaro on its way to the animal clinic.

Stiles just curls his hands on his little 'bump' protectively. He doesn't know what to say to Derek. He recognizes the symptoms, but what if he's wrong? And more importantly, what if he's right? Stiles hopes he's right. In fact, Stiles will be heartbroken if he's wrong.

But what about Derek? What if Derek doesn't want this? Stiles could die from the heartache, even thinking about the possibility makes Stiles sick in the stomach. And apparently, his mate notices his distress.

"Stiles, what's wrong? Your stomach hurts?"

One of Derek's hands moves from the steers to Stiles' stomach and rubs it soothingly, like he wants to take the pain away with it. Stiles feels heat creeping to his face, because the gesture feels so intimate. If Stiles is right, Derek is now rubbing right where their...

No, Stiles, don't get the hope up yet. Let the expert check on it first.

Stiles shakes his thought away and clears his throat.

"No, I'm fine." Stiles gulps, "I just—I trust Deaton more to check on my physical condition, that's all."

Stiles smiles at his mate, but from Derek's concerned face, he knows his mate is not buying it. Stiles can't explain anything further, he's freaking out himself too.

"Can't you just please hurry, Derek," He pleaded.

Derek moves his hand from Stiles' stomach to cup Stiles' cheek, caressing it softly.

"Hang on, Baby, we're almost there."

And of course he chose this moment to use that sweet name for the first time.

Stiles mentally groans. Derek always knows how to make him suffer internally.

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Stiles sits on the examination table as Deaton washes his hand on preparation.

"You came here just to check that small scar on your head?" Deaton asked.

Stiles squirms nervously on the table, he doesn't know where to begin. Deaton turns his gaze to Derek who's standing few feet from the examination table with his hands crossed on his chest, eyes never leaving Stiles.

"And you dropped him here yourself? He must be your favorite in the pack."

Derek just spares Deaton a glimpse before focuses his eyes back on his mate.

"Stiles is my mate," He said like it's the simplest fact in the world.

Deaton goes "ah" like it is a simple little fact and starts his examination of Stiles.

"So, Stiles, can you tilt your head up to the light while I open up the patch?" Deaton's waiting.

"Uh, actually, that's not why I came here," Stiles started.

"It's not?" Derek was the one who responsed, his eyebrows frown with worry. "Stiles..?"

Stiles shoots a little smile at his mate, "It's ok, Derek, I just need to check on something."

Stiles turns to Deaton. "Well, I have these symptoms. And-uh, I know where these symptoms lead to. But the thing is, I didn't know this could happen to...me. I mean, even if it could, I never heard about this case before. So, I need you to do, I don't know, a test or something. On me. Or whatever. I don't know the procedure of this stuff."