Chapter Text
The happy screeching only made Peter chuckle as he plugged his ears with his fingers. He was in the office of the shared apartment where he lived with Stiles and Lydia and he was trying to get some work done but the happy chatter coming down the hall made it hard to do so.
Lydia stood in the doorway a few moments later, a blushing smile on her face.
“I take it you told him,” Peter surmised, grinning as he stood up.
“He’s calling his dad right now.” Lydia beamed, falling into the hug that Peter gave her.
Two months ago, Peter told Lydia that she was pregnant, the heartbeat already distinguishable to the werewolf. Lydia was shocked at first but quickly warmed to the idea of having a baby. It wasn’t what she and Stiles had planned but when was anything planned in their lives? Lydia, once it was confirmed by her doctor, told Stiles and the end result was perfect.
Peter could feel the bonds flooding with joy and love. His Alpha was ecstatic to become a father and Peter would do everything in his power to protect that feeling. And the future pup.
“Peter!” Stiles called out, rushing out of the bedroom. “I’m gonna be a dad!”
The werewolf smiled and enjoyed the fierce hug the young man gave him. “Congratulations, both of you.” He told his packmates, feeling incredibly happy that the pack would be growing. Stiles smelled so strongly of excitement and lighting that it took Peter’s breath away. He didn’t know someone could be that excited. He took in a deeper inhale of Stiles’ scent and smirked at Lydia.
“I told you to tell him after he took his Adderall.” No wonder Stiles was so excited.
“I couldn’t wait,” The Banshee told him. “I’m excited as he is.”
Peter kissed her on the forehead. Stiles pulled them both into a hug as he still chattered about being a father and all that came with it.
It had only been less than eight months since the three of them came home from Beacon Hills and with Peter almost dying…again, this was a welcome reprieve. The entire pack was eager to meet the newest addition when the time came. Peter was grateful for the chance to be here, he only hoped that the pup knew how weird of a family they were coming into.
Three months
Stiles winced as he heard Lydia throw up for the fourth time in as many hours. He was sitting outside their bathroom, perched on the countertop as he tried to comfort her. “Anything I can do, Lyds?”
“Go away, Stiles.” She groaned out before more unpleasant sounds were heard.
Wincing again, he hopped off the counter and gently closed the door to the bathroom. He felt slightly guilty as he made his way to the kitchen. “Hey, Pete, is there any werewolf remedy for morning sickness?” He asked, sighing as he took a seat next to his Beta on the kitchen table.
Peter paused his typing on his laptop. He was dressed in a dark suit and about to head into the law firm where he and Lydia worked as a team. They specialized in family law and while the case in front of him was important, Peter’s own family was more so. “I don’t think so, Stiles.” He paused, thinking back to his time with the Hales. “I wasn’t necessarily…allowed to be around Talia when she was expecting. Of course, I was able to meet Laura, Derek, and Cora when they were babies but…” he paused again, trying to stifle the hurt that was drudged up even after all these years. “As an enforcer, the pack didn’t think I was fit to be around our vulnerable Alpha.”
“They kept you away from your own family?” Stiles asked incredulously as he again felt a flare of anger at the Hales.
Peter chuckled darkly, “Once I was trained, they only saw the killer that could be, the killer that was. I was a violent enforcer and that was that.” He turned back to his laptop but didn’t type anything but instead just stared at the screen. He remembered being eager to see Talia when she was pregnant, to congratulate her, and the crushing realization that his sister didn’t trust him by sending him away for missions for the entire time she was expecting. He remembered hiding the hurt of missing that beginning bond with the new pup of the pack. He was still young when his nieces and nephew were born, there was a time that he would have loved to treat them like siblings but now there was nothing but disdain between him and Derek, Laura was dead, and Cora wanted nothing to do with him. He closed his eyes as a warmth of reassurance went through the bond connecting him to Stiles.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that Peter, I promise you’re a part of this as much as we are,” Stiles said with a little smile as he put a hand on his Beta’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” The werewolf said sincerely, clearing his throat at the raw emotion that clogged it. He stood up to get a reference book in the library, reaching up made the scar on his side flare and he hissed as he put a hand to it.
Since it was so recent of an injury, there was still pain but with the addition of it being bequeathed by a dark fae, the scar from the dagger had healed terribly. It was raised and sensitive to most motions. The pain flared often.
“Is your scar bothering you, again?” Stiles asked, brows furrowed as he made his way to Peter. “We have to find the reason for this,” He tsked his tongue as he tried to move Peter’s hand. He tugged at the bond and disliked the faint feeling of pain coming from his wolf.
“We know why,” Peter answered, growling low in his throat as Stiles unbuttoned his suit jacket. “Stiles, it was an injury by a magical creature. If this is my penance, it’s not that bad considering all that I’ve done.”
Stiles managed to ruck up Peter’s shirt, disliking the heat that was coming from the injury as he put his hand over it. He hated it when Lydia or Peter was injured or hurt in any way. He knew that on Peter’s bad days, he would shift into a wolf and come to sleep with Lydia and Stiles. The scar bothered Peter, Stiles knew, more than he wanted to admit. It had taken a long time to heal and was a reminder of that last dreaded trip to Beacon Hills. “I’m making an authoritative Alpha decision.” Stiles decided as he made Peter move. “It’s a sleep-in day.”
“Stiles,” Peter protested as he was pulled down the hall. “It's already ten. I can’t just stop my work. I have clients-”
“And they will still be there after you take care of yourself.” Stiles answered, “Change into some sweats, and I don’t want to see you until you’ve taken a nap. Lydia’s going to do the same.”
The were rolled his eyes but went to do as he was told. He closed his bedroom door and Stiles headed to find Lydia. She was laying in bed, grey sweats making her pale skin look even more sickly with her face in the crook of her arm as she was laying on her stomach. Her red hair was braided back in a sloppy attempt at a french braid (It was only Stiles’ second attempt okay, give him some slack) and she groaned as he sat on the bed.
“Do you need anything?” He asked softly, rubbing her back. “I told Pete it was a sleep-in day. He's not feeling too well either.”
Lydia shook her head, pursing her lips, “Ice pack maybe?” She gave Stiles a tiny grateful smile as he brushed the hair out of her face. Her side of the bonds were tightly controlled so she wouldn’t make Peter nor Stiles sick to their stomachs. When her boyfriend left to get the ice pack, Lydia turned her attention to the sound of nails clicking in the hall. A few seconds later Peter, as a wolf, jumped onto the bed and snuggled up to her side. Lydia inhaled deeply as his scent flooded her nose. A woodsy smell and human Peter’s cologne. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, careful of his side, and smiled as she got licked on the forehead in return. “You know you’re always welcome here. Especially when you aren’t feeling good.” She told the werewolf. Peter whined softly and laid his head on the juncture of Lydia’s shoulder and neck. Lydia rubbed the auburn-colored wolf’s scruff and soon both of them fell asleep. They woke briefly as Stiles placed an ice pack on Lydia’s forehead and wrapped one around Peter’s side, but they fell back asleep when their Alpha shushed them gently. There was tea and plenty of affection when they woke up, both of them feeling much better.
Five months
Lydia’s baby bump showed up quickly on her shorter frame. By five months, a gruelish four of those being bedridden by morning sickness, she had a nice round little stomach showing off her and Stiles’ unborn child. The apartment complex soon got word of her pregnancy and gifts of diapers, flowers, casseroles, and other baby necessities poured in from the tenants. Cecil and his pack even bought the pair a beautiful oak crib, which Lydia and Stiles protested as it was an expensive gift but the other weres insisted on it. The Banshee book club brought fruit baskets. Mrs. Aaron provided protection charms over the crib and Stiles added his own wards afterwards; it was soon the safest place for a newborn in the entire building.
Lydia’s firm gave her a paid maternity leave until she was able to make it back into the office if she worked on cases from home. Stiles and Peter both knew she would rather go insane than not work for the entire nine months. Lydia took it, with the addition of Peter being added to the deal. If Lydia Martin stayed home, so did Peter. The firm was more afraid of the legal battle against the redhead if they protested and agreed. Stiles managed to pull some strings at the FBI and he was able to get his paternity leave early so he could spend time with Lydia, meaning the small pack could spend as much time as possible together before the baby arrived.
“What do you think about yellow for the nursery?” Peter asked as he and Lydia browsed paint samples. The three of them were converting the office into a nursery, each bedroom had a desk shoved in to make room.
Lydia shook her head, “It’s too annoying if it’s not the right shade.” She bit her lip as she put another sample against the wall. “Why not just paint it white?”
The were raised an eyebrow, “Lydia Martin,” He purred, “I’m surprised at you. I thought you had more style than that. A white nursery is plain and borderline mundane.”
With a frustrated look, Lydia made sure to flick her hair in Peter’s face. “It was just a suggestion. And it’s not plain! That’s when you decorate it with accents of color through the furniture and decorations.”
Peter chuckled. He liked to ruffle Lydia’s feathers and his packmate knew that about him. There was a time when he would have made every remark towards her one of venom and malice, but now there was just gentle teasing and too much love between them. “Blue or Green?”
“Veto.” Lydia sighed out, putting a hand on her bump. Once the morning sickness had finally gone away, the sweats and ponytails had been deserted and Lydia was back to wearing her beloved dresses and heels. She loved her personal style and when she couldn’t dress how she liked, it always made her feel icky and out of place. Even now with no one in the apartment and Peter dressed in the hoodie Stiles gave him, she was wearing a pale blue dress and a flannel headband. It was just her and Peter in the apartment at the moment, Stiles was out grabbing dinner.
“Purple?” Peter suggested, hoping Lydia didn’t choose that one as it wasn’t one of his favorite colors.
“Veto.”
“We’re not doing orange or pink.” On that Peter was adamant about.
“God no.”
“You’re not leaving me with many options here, Lydia.” The were huffed, picking up a few samples and placing them against the blank wall. “What about mint green?” When he didn’t get a response, Peter turned back to the Banshee who was frozen as she had her hands on her bump. “Lydia? Are you alright?”
The young woman was silent for a moment before the bond lit up with such a flurry of emotions that Peter literally took a step back from the onslaught.
“The baby’s moving!” Lydia exclaimed, eyes bright as she focused on the small flurry of movement in her middle. It was a small quickening under her skin, able to be felt ever so slightly by her palm.
Peter smiled at the sheer joy coming from the young woman, he reveled in the feelings rushing across Lydia’s golden bond. He stuck his hands in his hoodie pocket and tried not to intrude on the moment that the expectant mother was having. He was surprised when Lydia called him.
“Peter, come here. Let’s see if you can feel it.” Lydia offered, her beautiful face shining. She held out her hand and beckoned Peter closer.
Swallowing thickly with nerves, the werewolf came to her side. “Are you sure?”
“Oh hush, you know you’re family,” Lydia reassured, voice turning soft as she caught the nervousness exuding from the wolf. “Peter, you have a place here. In this pack, with me and Stiles. Always.”
The were’s throat closed with emotion. He knew he was a part of a pack, of Stiles and Lydia’s lives. He knew he had an Alpha and a place to call home but old habits were hard to break. He was used to blending in the shadows and his past experiences with Talia and her pregnancies had made him doubt what he was allowed to do with Lydia’s. Still unsure, he waited until Lydia took his hand and placed it on her middle. They waited a few moments before Peter felt it, a small flurry against his palm.
He let out a gasping laugh, mismatched eyes flashing as he informally met the pack’s pup. Peter zoned in on the tiny heartbeat, the fast pace reminded him of a hummingbird. Lydia giggled out of excitement as they let the baby move a few more times before they settled again.
Lydia gently let go of Peter’s hand when the baby decided it was done showing off, “Stiles is going to go berserk when we tell him he missed feeling the baby.”
With a nod, Peter agreed, “It was…a wonderful feeling.”
Lydia kissed his cheek, rubbing Peter’s chest, feeling sad with remembrance at what Stiles had told her about Peter’s upbringing with the Hales. Her hand brushed Peter’s necklace. His dog tags still hung around the werewolf’s neck, the black tags turning silver from the constant rubbing of Peter’s fingers. He never took the necklace off. It was always on him, be it under his shirt for work or able to be seen in the comfort of the apartment, Peter never went anywhere without the inscriptions of Lydia and Stiles’ names. Lydia hoped that with the addition of the baby Peter wouldn’t feel like he was losing his place in the pack. The love would be doubled not lessened and in her heart, Lydia knew that Peter would be this baby’s protector through thick and thin. He had already shown that to both her and Stiles last year with the dark fae. She suppressed a shiver at those memories.
“Let’s finish picking the paint color and go watch TV.” The Banshee suggested, trying not to think about the whole ordeal.
She and Peter spent another hour fighting over sapphire blue and mint green before deciding that they would go with a periwinkle color that matched the oak crib. When Stiles got home, he stuck like glue to Lydia’s middle and pressed his ear to the bump as he put his head in his girlfriend's lap as they all watched TV. Lydia played with Stiles’ hair as he laid across the couch, Stiles murmured softly as he tried to coax the baby to move again.
Peter’s eardrums exploded when the baby moved from Stiles’ excitement.
Six months
The protectiveness that seemed to spring up from one day to the next surprised the werewolf. As Lydia progressed in her pregnancy, becoming more vulnerable and less able to defend herself even as a Banshee, Peter found himself shadowing her, not unlike a bodyguard. He wanted to put her in their apartment and cover her in blankets and never let her out. Lydia’s natural scent of cinnamon had sweetened even more so until it smelled what Peter would describe as powdered sugar. She still held her minuscule scent of death but it was easily overpowered. Stiles' scent had also changed, his lightning smell was brewing into a storm, but Peter couldn’t figure out why. His best guess was that Stiles’ magic was brimming at the surface ready to defend his mate. Both males of the pack were extremely protective of Lydia, both loved her enough to lay down their lives for her. Stiles was every ounce the doting boyfriend and soon-to-be father as he went to every doctor’s appointment and tried to learn everything there was to learn about pregnancy. Oftentimes he and Peter would look at a page in a pregnancy book in disgust before taking a break for the day to clean their retinas with holy water.
Lydia and Stiles had decided to keep the gender a secret until the baby was born but the nursery still needed to be completed, which was why they were out shopping.
Peter had to hold in a growl as the trio walked through the store. The couple was ahead of him browsing as they walked through another baby store. Moving people out of the way with little grace, the were placed himself slightly in front of Lydia and blocked anyone who tried to touch her middle without permission. Peter never understood how random strangers, some who were terribly rude, just thought they had the audacity to walk up to his packmate and touch her stomach. It made Peter’s blood boil and he had to slap a few hands away with a savage scowl on his face before they got the message. Lydia was going to lose her natural scent if he let all the strangers’ hands rub their garbage on her. Lydia nor Stiles made any complaints but a few times Lydia had to laugh at the protectiveness Peter showed. She didn’t mind though, she knew it was Peter’s way of showing love. Peter gave a low vibration in his throat as a man that smelled of heavy cigarette smoke passed Lydia.
“Peter, it’s okay.” The Banshee reasoned, gripping the werewolf’s arm and tugging him to the sections of baby clothes. “Come on, let’s spend some money. Shopping always makes you feel better.”
“Picking out suits, ties, or buying books isn’t shopping.” Peter protested even though he started to look at the unisex colors.
“Tomato, tomahto.” She disappeared after a few minutes, dashing off to look at something else.
Sighing, Peter stayed where he was, looking at the tiny tiny clothes and wondering how something so small could cost so much money. Of course, Lydia and Stiles wouldn’t have to pay a cent. They would protest, but Peter planned on buying everything they needed for the pup. After all, he was still part of the Hale fortune. His paychecks as a lawyer only added to the amount of money he had in his bank. He’d already put aside a trust fund for the little one and would be adding monthly until the pup was eighteen. Peter would ensure that the kid wouldn’t have to work a day in their life if they didn’t want to. Looking at the tiny clothes, Peter felt a spring of panic and it was coming from his Alpha. Inhaling deeply, Peter tracked Stiles outside of the store, trying to send comfort through the bond.
Stiles was sitting on a bench outside, head in his hands and his knee thumped a mile a minute.
“Hey,” The Beta started, voice soft as he took a seat next to the young man. “Are you doing alright?”
“Yeah, no, I don’t know,” Stiles admitted, hands a little shaky. “I guess it’s becoming real to me.” He chuckled nervously. “I mean what are we even doing, having a kid?” He gazed around them before lowering his voice. “Look at us! Lydia’s a literal siren of death, I was possessed by the Nogitsune! How can we be parents?” He clasped his slightly shaking hands together, “I’m sorry I let the panic go through the bond, it wasn’t supposed to happen.”
The werewolf paused, wondering how to show Stiles he was wrong for worrying and how to give him reassurance, “Stiles, I already know you’re going to be an amazing father. And Lydia’s going to be an amazing mother.” Peter replied, giving Stiles’ shoulder a squeeze. “I know that just by being a better Alpha than I ever had in my life that you will be a great father.”
Stiles gave Peter a thankful look, “I guess it’s becoming more real now. Half the apartment is covered in baby stuff and I just…I get nervous because of all that I’ve been through. I feel like I’m gonna somehow put a load of trauma on the kid and scar it for life.”
Peter chuckled, “You do know who you’re talking to, right? And you’re still letting me be around the kid, so I think you’re going to be fine.”
The young man seemed to realize then started laughing. Stiles’ laughter was contagious and Peter started chuckling as well. He knew they were all damaged in some way, mentally, physically, emotionally, but together they made some resemblance of a sane family and that was enough. The were squeezed Stiles’ shoulder again, “Come on, let’s get back to Lydia before she buys the whole store.”
The Banshee was going to kill someone if they didn’t start answering her calls. She was in the living room, pacing with a hand on her bump as she was on hold for the third time with the department store. She and Stiles had chosen a changing table, bassinet, mobile, and baby car seat and the furniture store had apparently lost her entire order. Her bare feet were padding through the library and back as she listened to the classical music that had been ringing in her eardrums for the past forty-five minutes.
“You know you’re really sexy when you’re mad.” Came a voice she loved with her entire being.
Lydia turned and couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her face as she looked at Stiles.
“You’re also really sexy carrying my baby.” He whispered as he came closer to her. He was dressed in slacks and a white dress shirt with a black tie, courtesy of an emergency meeting with one of his coworkers at the FBI.
The redhead fiddled with his tie as she hung up the phone knowing she was going to sick Peter on the employees later. “Is that so?”
Stiles hummed his confirmation as he kissed her cheek, wrapping her in his arms. He kissed her mouth gently, before kissing just a little more hungrily. Lydia sighed into his mouth, putting her arms around his neck. They swayed as they stood in a patch of sunlight, haloing their figures in the room. Stiles put his hands on the baby bump, smiling into his kisses as their child moved in response to their father’s close proximity.
“As much as I love this,” Lydia breathed out as Stiles kissed the side of her neck. “You’re still not going to know the gender.”
Stiles pulled away with a grumpy pout on his face, “Come on, Lydia! How is that fair!” He whined, “You weren’t even supposed to know! That new nurse told you on accident.”
His girlfriend smirked, her pink lips still so kissable, “That’s exactly what I want you to believe.”
Stiles gave a playful growl before he recaptured Lydia in his arms and blew a raspberry into the soft ticklish side of her neck. His girlfriend shrieked out a laugh as she squirmed to get away. Stiles couldn’t remember a time when he was happier than in that moment.
Peter tilted his head as he finished painting the last wall of the nursery, his sensitive nose clogged with paint fumes. He was pretty sure that he had periwinkle-colored paint in his hair and definitely on his grubby clothes. Stiles and Peter had banned Lydia from entering the newly done room as paint fumes were bad for an expectant mother.
“Is there supposed to be that much paint on the ceiling?” Peter asked, squinting as he pointed up.
Stiles came over and looked up at the spot Peter was pointing to, “Oh crap.”
The werewolf rubbed his dog tags as they tried to figure out a way to get the paint off the ceiling without getting the bulky ladder again. Peter ran his fingertips over the Latin, wondering what they had chosen and what new name he was going to inscribe onto an additional tag.
“Have you and Lydia thought about names yet?”
With a shake of his head, Stiles answered. “No, not yet. Since only Lydia knows the gender now, we’re waiting to discuss names until the baby’s born.”
“Wise decision,” Peter nodded, his eyes glinting with mischief.
Reading the face his wolf was giving him, Stiles groaned. “Oh come on, not you too! You know the gender?” He pointed a finger at the other man, “Traitor!”
Peter laughed. “Lydia told me.”
“I’m the father and somehow you know what my baby is before I do!”
The werewolf only cackled as Stiles stormed off to beg Lydia to tell him if the little one was a boy or a girl.
Lydia groaned as she stood up from the kitchen table after working on her computer for the last several hours. Her back had been hurting these last few days, more sharply as false contractions started appearing as her sixth month came to a close. A gentle hand settled on her back and from the corner of her eye, she saw Peter’s veins appear black as he pulled her pain.
“That’s more than I was expecting, Lyds,” Peter said softly, concern coming from his side of the pack bond.
“Comes with being pregnant,” Lydia answered, breathing out a long sigh as the pain left and she felt her muscles relax.
Peter tsked his tongue, flashing his blue and gold eyes as he took the majority of Lydia’s aches. He slowly removed the pain draw, watching the black veins fizzle out under his leather bracelet. Lydia leaned towards him and he let her rest her head on his chest, he rubbed her shoulder blades and closed his eyes at the comfort that was traveling the bonds all three ways. Stiles was setting up furniture in the nursery. It was nearly completed, but he felt the emotions of his Beta and mate and reciprocated.
The werewolf took Lydia with him to the couch, letting her feet fall into his lap as they cuddled. Peter grabbed the throw blanket that was on the back of the loveseat and put it over Lydia who was already yawning. Rumbling softly, Peter let his old instincts take hold and as he relaxed his shoulders, he let out a soothing vibration. It was at a certain pitch that helped aid in sleep. It was something he would do for himself when he was missing his father. Peter was barely seven when he died, there were nights that were too long without the big Alpha’s presence. Peter rubbed his cheek on Lydia’s hair, scenting her as she grew drowsy. He missed the feeling of being cared for and would always be thankful for Stiles and Lydia who gave him a bit of that feeling back. He wanted to make sure Lydia felt cared for in return.
Peter’s wolf felt content as he allowed himself to act as a comforter for once, instead of an enforcer. He smiled as he tucked Lydia under his chin, her scent full of sleepiness and contentedness. Her taut belly pressed against his as they dozed and he promised himself that he would try to protect his pack with everything he had left to give. Be it seven more lifetimes or one, Peter was theirs. Fully and indefinitely.