Chapter Text
Prologue
When Derek thought about time travel – and he did, a lot – this was not what he'd had in mind. He'd thought he would see his younger self, tell him to leave Paige alone and NEVER trust Kate Argent. He'd thought he’d get to come back once that was done and everything would be perfect. He never imagined having to relive his entire life.
The witch was supposed to be easy to deal with. She wasn’t hurting anyone really, but the sheriff was starting to be concerned about all the "odd" events going on; a cheating husband being incapable – literally – of putting pants on; an evil boss handing himself over for fraud and then denying it; school bullies becoming their victim’s slaves, willingly. All those things could have been considered justified, but people were asking questions so John had asked Derek and his pack to look into it.
A few days later, they finally found the witch. They tried to talk to her but Derek, being … well, Derek, managed to piss her off rather quickly. He never saw it coming, and before he knew it, everything was black.
When he woke up, he was in a giant crib. At least that’s what he thought until he realized that the crib wasn’t big; his body was tiny. He couldn’t even lift his own head so he was probably very VERY young; which was probably why he started to cry uncontrollably.
Chapter 1
It didn’t take long for Derek to realize that being a baby sucked. Sure, when his mom came into his nursery to rock him back to sleep, it had felt like a dream… And then he woke up with a dirty diaper. Obviously, since he was “technically” a baby, there was nothing to be ashamed of… as a 24 year old, this was hell. He apparently had no control over his own body, other than making some very ridiculous baby noises and maybe a few (probably unrecognizable) expressions. His mother came back and immediately put him on the changing table.
“God you stink Der-bear.” She said while looking down at him lovingly.
Thanks mom, rub it in, why don’t you… For his own sanity, Derek decided to close his eyes and go to his happy place until he was clean and dressed.
When that was done, she took him in her arms, keeping him close to her chest. In the kitchen, they found his dad making pancakes while 5 year old Laura talked 10 year old Peter’s ears off. Talia put him down in a sleeper on top off the table, right next to Peter. She started to heat up a bottle for Derek, and a good thing to because he was starving. In that instant, he was very glad that his mom hated to breast feed. He remembered when Cora had been a baby; he had asked her what that weird pump thingy was. And boy how he’d regretted it.
Everything was peaceful, until Peter decided to poke him in the stomach.
“Why is he so quiet?”
Why are you such a brat? Leave me alone, you idiot! Sadly, Derek’s trademark stare didn’t seem to be working at that age. Talia finally sat down next to her son with his food. She took him back in her arms before giving it to him.
“I don’t know… He looks okay though. Maybe he’s just tired.” She said.
No I’m not, don’t you dare put me back in that crib.
The day went on in a series of feeding, burping, changing and sleeping. When he woke up that night, starving so much it hurt, he decided to stay quiet. He was an adult, he could wait. He managed to fall asleep again only to wake up probably less than an hour later. His parents came, looking rather worried. They saw him lying there, awake and silent. They fed him and put him back to bed, watching him until he fell asleep.
The next few days were pretty much the same. He ate, burped, got changed, watched the world around him and slept. He stayed silent, even when someone tried to play with him, which consisted of making him hold one of their fingers in his hand. He continued to stay silent at night for 3 days until he realized that his silence was making his parents worry a lot. Then one morning, when he saw how worried and exhausted they were, he made the decision to at least pretend to be a kid. It was hard at first. His first attempt at crying in the middle of the night was quite pathetic. He sounded more annoyed then hungry, but it did the trick. Thankfully he didn’t have to cry to get changed; the smell was enough for every werewolf in the house to know he needed a new diaper. During the day though, it was rather easy. He never would have thought that being an infant was so much fun. He giggled, cooed and smiled (well tried to anyway) at everyone except Peter. Every time Peter touched him he screamed, when Peter talked to him he stared and the only time Peter tried to hold him he slapped him as hard as he could. It wasn’t really hard, but the 10 year old got the message.
Fuck you Uncle Peter, I don’t like you.
A few months later, Derek felt like he was coming back to civilization. He could move around a little bit better (mostly just turn from his back to his front) and hold his head up, but most importantly: he could babble... and it was awesome. Every time someone talked to him he could actually give them an answer. They didn't get him most of the time, he couldn't form words or anything, but he could communicate his emotions better; especially to Peter. Now the stares and hits (which were getting stronger) came with angry screams and babbled insults. Derek was pretty sure his first word will be "Asshole"; actually he’ll probably make sure of it.
Seven months after his arrival, Derek could finally crawl! Well sort of. Almost. He was on his hands and knees, trying to move forward or backward but sadly staying still. He probably looked ridiculous going back and forth without actually lifting any of his members, but he could feel it: soon, he would be able to move around.
When he finally managed to stand while holding his dad’s leg, he felt like partying. Sadly his improvised happy dance sent him back on his bottom. His eyes watered even if he wasn’t sad or hurt, just really frustrated and his dad picked him up, kissing his forehead before holding him against his chest.
“We should probably start child proofing everything” he said to Talia.
God, I never thought I’d say that, but I can’t wait for puberty …
“A’ole” The silence that followed Derek’s first real word was enough to know they had understood him,no matter how bad it had sounded. And Derek had never been prouder of himself. It was definitely worth his first time out.
Derek’s first birthday was one of the best days of his life, old and new. He was on his mom’s lap, surrounded by the whole pack, including his mom’s other brother Jared; who was studying law at UCLA, and his grandmother on his father’s side as well as his father’s sister, Malory, and her son Tom. He didn't remember his grandmother from his old life but he could see now where his father got his “zen” attitude.
Derek opened his gifts with as much enthusiasm and dexterity a one year could hope for. The toys looked nice even though he knew he would only play with them if he had to pretend. And the cake, that he was wearing, was delicious. He looked around at his family, his pack, and smiled. This time would be better; he'd make sure of it. This time, no one would die.