To Build a Home

Chapter 4

“How is he?” Stiles asked quietly from the doorway, hands deep in his pockets, afraid to enter completely in case Derek was still in the mood to argue.

“They gave him something to help him sleep while he does his breathing treatment,” Derek explained as he held Isaac’s tiny hand and gently moved his thumb over it, eyes refusing to stray from his son. “They’re going to start IV antibiotics and steroids after they get a chest x-ray.”

Stiles pulled his lips inward and took a deep breath before deciding it was safe to pull a chair to the other side of Isaac’s bed and sit down. He’d followed his father’s two directions, but now, with Isaac in a hospital gown breathing from a mask as numerous wires snaked in and out from beneath the white blanket over him, he was lost. Because his husband was sitting across from him, unwilling to let their eyes meet, jaw still locked as he watched every inhale and exhale, none easy, that their son attempted.

“Go ahead. Blame me,” Stiles whispered. “Tell me that this is all my fault and that tonight should have been different.”

Derek sighed softly and rubbed his face with his free hand. “I’m not going to argue about this with Isaac in the room, and I’m not leaving him right now.”

“Then tell me that this isn’t my fault,” Stiles said, tears falling slowly down his cheeks. “And that you love me and we’re in this as a family.”

 “I love you and we’re in this as a family,” Derek said, voice monotone.

“That wasn’t very convincing,” Stiles sniffled.

“Was it supposed to be?”

“God, Derek. Can’t you just let your defenses down this one time?” Stiles asked, eyes pleading as the tears streamed over his lips. “For Isaac? For us?” Derek just kept his focus on his son and continued to hold his little hand.

“I can see beneath all of the anger and pain that you use as a shield,” Stiles stated. “And I know that when you say things like I think you need to remove yourself from the situation and Was it supposed to be that you regret them almost immediately afterwards. That you replay the conversations in your head and let them eat you up on the inside.” Stiles saw Derek’s jaw move a little at the last comment, but there were no words to follow.

“Come on, Der,” he tried. “I know that it’s hard for you to stop spewing hurtful, sarcastic comments once you start. I know that and I still love you, which is why I’m asking you to try right now and have this conversation with me. For Isaac,” Stiles said. “Because he’s scared and us fighting isn’t going to make him better.”

At the mention of Isaac’s fear, Derek titled his head back and took a deep breath, making Stiles wonder if Derek was trying to keep tears from falling or if he was just flat-out annoyed at Stiles’ insistent rambling.

“Would you please say something?” Stiles begged, breaths quickening as he waited for a sign that he was getting through to his husband. The electricity was flowing through his body now, making him lift his right heel repeatedly and fidget his hands in his lap. He almost got up to pace around the room, but when Derek folded into himself and let silent sobs rack his body as wet tears fell, Stiles just licked his lips and let them part, unsure of what to do. Because Derek, like Isaac, didn’t always do well with touch when he was emotional, and Stiles was sure that even one hand on his shoulder might trigger the person inside that Stiles had only seen once before and someone Stiles never wanted to encounter again.

“Der,” he whispered. “You don’t have to cry,” he explained, even though he was crying too. “It’s okay if you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you!” Derek groaned through his tears. “It’s not you.”

"You…you’re mad at yourself?” Stiles asked, confused. “This isn’t anyone’s fault, Derek. It’s been a long week and we’ve only been doing this whole parenting thing for four months.” Derek just shook his head in his hands. “Things like this are going to happen,” Stiles said, voice softer. “I’m going to stress myself out because my brain is always racing, Isaac’s going to get sick because of his asthma, and you’re going to go away on business so that we can stay financially stable. We’re going to argue about stupid little things that will only seem stupid in retrospect and that’s okay. It’s…normal. This is what families do.”

“But I’m so bad at this,” Derek responded, voice shaky. “I thought that maybe I could work on it, be a better father for Isaac as time went on, but obviously it isn’t working.”

“What are you talking about? You are amazing with Isaac,” Stiles assured him.

“Yeah, right,” Derek sniffled, still afraid to show his face. “I just end up fucking everything up. I should have been home.”

Stiles thought back to their first month with Isaac and how Derek had been afraid to hold him. Actually, Derek had been afraid to interact with Isaac in any sense of the word, so Stiles suggested that he and Isaac spend some one-on-one time together each day. There was one particular night, about three weeks in, where Derek had set a bath for Isaac, careful to make sure that the water was lukewarm and full of the bubble bath Stiles had purchased at the store. The toddler splashed the water around him with sweet little laughs, loving the fluffy white beard of bubbles Derek had given him just moments before.

Stiles had been looking up now and then at the video baby monitor between dishes just to make sure Derek and Isaac were okay; they hadn’t quite figured out Isaac’s strawberry allergy at that point, and Derek could be a little panicky whenever Isaac started wheezing. With the faucet running and overpowering the audio, he had almost missed what was now one of his favorite memories of the two. A high-pitched squeal from the toddler forced Stiles’ eyes to the screen and he laughed in relief when he realized it was just Derek blowing tufts of bubbles off of his hand.

“You have no idea how much I love you already," Derek had laughed to himself as he gently lathered Isaac's hair with watermelon shampoo a moment later, careful not to get the soap in his eyes even though the formula was tear-free. Isaac smiled sweetly up at Derek and squeezed his eyes shut as his hair was rinsed out. "You've already stolen my heart, little Isaac," Derek smiled as he drained the tub and lifted him out, wrapping him in a towel and carrying him off screen.

Stiles felt droplets of warm water hitting his sock, alerting him to the dripping pot he’d been washing but had paused with as he’d watched the monitor. He’d shaken his head and smiled as he finished the dishes, knowing that the progress Derek had made in his relationship with Isaac was proof that yes, they had made the right decision to adopt him. And as he shared this memory with Derek out loud as they waited for the doctor to return, the two held hands and each one of Isaac’s, tears replaced by a set of hopeful smiles.