Come Back To Me

Ch. 8

STILES POV

Two years. It's been two years since my dad died, since I've left Beacon Hills, since I've seen Derek. I hate myself everyday for leaving, but that feeling is nothing compared to the feeling I get thinking about what I did. It hurt, like hell, but it was what I deserved.

I drove around for a long while after I left. I never really had a plan, I just knew that wherever I figured things out I would have to do it miles from Beacon Hills. Somehow I landed in Seattle. It was nice there, and the rainy state it constantly seemed to be in was somewhat comforting. I went to an online college to keep myself from the public eye. I even started going by my birth name again. It was an awful name but I needed to go unnoticed. I eventually got a job at a publishing company. I knew I always wanted to do something with writing. This way I was able to write and help get others published as well. I had saved up quite a lot of money so things weren't too bad. A couple nights a week I had to eat noodles for lunch and dinner but it was okay.

A few months after I left town I got terribly sick, with what I assumed was the flu. But every symptom I had pointed towards something else, something I couldn't believe. But with everything I knew about the supernatural it wasn't impossible. If you're catching my drift then you'll understand why one dark night I ran to the corner store to buy two different pregnancy tests. And if you hadn't guessed by now, they both were positive. Apparently no matter your sex if you mate with an alpha anything is possible, including children. Six months later I gave birth to a little girl. Charlotte Winchester-Hale. She looked exactly like Derek. It was a trait that made me feel guilty everytime I looked at her, but I loved her nonetheless.

She's two now and everytime she stares up at me with those hazel eyes I get a feeling in my stomach telling me to go back home, back to Derek. But then the question of what I would say pops up. "Hey Derek I don't know if you were aware but you were able to get me, a man, pregnant and now we have a daughter" didn't seem like the best route to go. So I stayed stuck and always in a constant state of wondering what to do next.

DEAN POV

After landing in Seattle it was the easiest thing finding our son again. A few hours later we found ourselves outside an old building. The list on the door listed Stiles as being apartment 5C. We walked into the apartment, and it was the most domestic thing in the world. It was casual and cozy at the same time. We each instantly went our separate ways looking through the apartment. We didn't know when or if he'd be home so we hurried through everything. That was until I came to a counter in the living room. It was filled with photos. Some from when Stiles was older, to his graduation. There was a picture of Stiles, Cas and I on the beach when he was younger. By now my husband had caught up to me in the apartment. I picked up the picture then looked at Cas "Think we're in the right place?" I asked sarcastically. He smiled at the picture then continued to look at the photographs. We quickly became more interested once we saw more and more pictures of a baby girl. Cas picked up a framed photograph then looked up at me. It was of Stiles and a baby girl at a parade. The little girl had an upturned cute nose, and little bow lips like my son's. Her hair was made up of silky black curls that looked like they'd bounce vigorously to the touch, and she had piercing hazel eyes. These features reminded us too much of a particular werewolf we knew. Cas turned to me and I to him and without speaking we both knew who this child's parents were.

"Did you guys find anything?" Derek asked looping around the corner. Cas and I only looked up at him the photograph still clutched in our hands "What is it?" When we failed to answer he walked over to the both of us and pried the picture from our hands. We watched his face as Derek quickly came to the same realization we had just a few minutes ago. We were wrapped up in this newfound information that none of us heard the front door open and close. None of us even realized someone else was in the apartment until the man of the hour came into the living room. Stiles had on a black coat with flakes of snow on his shoulders, and if I let my eyes travel down a little further the little girl from the pictures was in his arms. She had on a puffy purple coat, a pink beanie that let her curls flare out at the bottom, and sparkly pink boots. She was holding on to Stiles for dear life but looked to be asleep.