Chapter Text
Step One: Find a Mud Puddle
“Stiles? Can you come in here for a minute?”
There was an edge to his dad’s voice, something off that made Stiles pause his movie. He jogged downstairs, going through everything he’d done in the past few days. He wasn’t in trouble in school. He hadn’t forgotten any chores. In fact, he cleaned the whole kitchen yesterday to purge some hefty post-Supernatural emotions. He and Lydia were working towards early acceptance to UC Berkley next year, so he hadn’t even been spending much time playing video games. As far as he knew he was the perfect son.
Confident, he jumped the last two steps and started talking as he rolled into the dining room. “What’s up, Daddy-o? Oh hey, is that from Berkley? I sent the paperwork last month and I’m basically having a heart attack every time the mail comes.”
John looked up from the letter in his hand. “It’s not from Berkley, Stiles. Sit down.”
“Ooo-kay, that doesn’t sound ominous or anything.” Stiles dropped into a chair opposite his father, drumming his fingers on the table. He saw the return address on the empty envelope and grabbed it. “Dalbec and Grant… this is a Berkley address, though.”
“Dalbec and Grant are lawyers,” his father said stiffly. “They want me to take you to some doctor for a blood test.”
The boy blinked. “A blood test? Why do I need a blood test?”
“To establish paternity.”
Stiles laughed out loud. “Someone thinks you’re not my dad? I mean wow, I know I take after Mom but that’s kind of pushing it.”
“That’s not-” John sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I really have to explain this, Stiles? It’s not for me, it’s for you.”
That- what? “What?”
“The letter is from a law firm outside Berkley asking for a paternity test,” his father explained. “Someone named Heather Matthews. Ring any bells?”
Stiles felt the blood drain from his face. “That’s… not possible.”
“No?” the sheriff asked, raising his eyebrows. “So you didn’t sleep with her?”
“No! I mean yes, but we totally used protection. Like, all the protection. I used a condom both times, and I know I used it right because you made me watch that deeply traumatizing video with the dildo. Which, by the way, made me feel inadequate until I got up the nerve to look around in the locker room so thanks for that.” Stiles realized he was babbling but couldn’t stop. His chest felt tight, every breath coming a little harder than the last, and the envelope dug into his hand where he had crumpled it. “You bought me those condoms, they were the right size and everything and it was just one night, we don’t even talk anymore since she moved last-”
“Breathe,” John interrupted. He moved around to put a hand on his son’s back, rubbing little circles. This wasn’t the first panic attack they’d been through. “Just breathe, son. In and out.”
It took a few minutes. Stiles kept freaking out every time he caught sight of the letter, but eventually the pressure eased from his chest and he could breathe again. He leaned back against his father. “Sorry. Sorry, I just…”
“It’s okay. This came out of nowhere for me, too.” The man gave him another pat before moving back to the chair. He picked up the letter, folding it into his back pocket, then rubbed his jaw. “I thought I didn’t have to worry about this with you, not after catching you parking with that Danny kid.”
Stiles flushed. That hadn't been his finest hour, though Danny thought it was hilarious. “I told you, I like both. It was just them anyway, I’m not slutting it up all over town. Not that there’s a problem with getting your freak on, no slut shaming here, I just… Heather was the, you know, the first and only. The only girl, anyway, obviously me and Danny have-”
John winced. “I don’t need a play by play. Just- you’re sure you used protection?”
“So sure. So very much of the sure.”
“Then I believe you,” he said simply. “But accidents happen, and condoms can fail. I’ll make the appointment, all right? No sense worrying until we have the results. For now, try to stay calm.”
His son dropped the wrinkled envelope. “I should call Heather.”
“Hold off on that. The lawyers don’t want you to contact any of the Matthews family until we have the results.”
Trying not to show how much of a relief that was, especially when he felt so shaky, Stiles nodded. “Okay. Um. Do you need anything from me?”
“Actually, yeah.” John dug out his wallet and passed over a folded bill. “Go get a pizza. Meat lovers. God knows I deserve it right now.”
The boy nodded, leaning away to grab his hoodie. “Right, meat lovers. That’s fine.” Then, unable to resist, he added, “And I can grab a salad, too. Just to round us out. Your blood pressure was still too high last time.”
"Whose fault is that?”
It was an old joke, usually affectionate. Today it made Stiles flinch, and John swore. “Hell, kiddo, I didn’t mean-”
“I know,” the boy interrupted. “It’s fine. I’ll be back in forty minutes, give or take.” He managed a weak smile and got out before things got weirder.
****
Two hours later, full of pizza and self-recrimination, Stiles flopped back on his bed. He couldn’t even begin to think about finishing the movie. Memories of Heather’s birthday party ran through his mind: the overlarge crowd, pretending to drink a beer that tasted like an ashtray, Heather’s hand pulling him upstairs to her room.
“Have you ever… you know?”
“Uh… we’re talking about sex, right?”
A giggle, slightly higher than usual. “Yes, Stiles, I’m talking about sex. With a girl, not whatever you and Scott get up to.”
“Whoa, hey, it’s not like that with us. Scott’s like my brother. Anyway, he’s pretty much the straightest guy on Earth.”
“And you’re not?” The question was light, playful. “People talk about you, Stiles. They say you go both ways. That’s kind of hot.”
“Really? Because don’t get me wrong, that’s awesome to hear, but most people have a huge problem with that part. Most girls kind of assume I’m gay and haven’t figured it out yet.”
“It’s cool. My aunt is bi and she married a guy, so I figure it doesn’t matter.”
“That… wow, Heather, you are really open-minded. Like, I don’t even know what to say to that. Thanks? Can I say thanks?”
“After you take my shirt off, maybe.”
She’d been nervous but eager, with a list of things she wanted to try. When he came almost immediately the first time Heather just laughed and showed him how to help her finish. It gave him the confidence to manage a more successful round later on. That led to sleep, some x-rated snuggling, and friendly aimless groping in the shower the next morning. They’d parted with hugs rather than kisses, both happy with the encounter but uninterested in anything further. It was pretty much a perfect first time.
Now she was pregnant.
Stiles blew out a shaky breath. He felt a churning mixture of panic and guilt over having gotten Heather into this situation. She wanted to be a doctor, badly enough that her mother had taken a job at Berkeley to ensure her acceptance. This was going to throw a huge spanner in the works. How was he supposed to help from Beacon Hills? Would he have to move now, too? His dad’s term wasn’t up for another two years even if he didn’t get reelected, so Stiles would have to go by himself. That was going to be a serious problem. No one would rent an apartment to a sixteen year old- wait, would he still be sixteen?
Without really meaning to he did the math in his head. Heather’s birthday party was in the beginning of October, which meant the baby was due in July sometime. It would be around six months along by now. What did a six month fetus even look like? Was it still an alien blob, or was it mostly a person? Health class had totally failed him. Stiles went to his desk and opened his laptop, telling himself he was just curious.
He didn’t notice time passing until his dad spoke from the doorway. “Stiles? Why are you in sitting in the dark?”
He blinked and looked around. It was pretty dark. He hit the desk lamp and winced at the sudden glare. “Ow. Um. Sorry, I was kind of absorbed.”
John came up behind him, bending to see the screen. His body went still. “What’s all this?”
“Nothing. Well, not nothing,” Stiles amended, embarrassed by how many tabs he had open. “I’m just- just looking.”
“These are baby blogs,” his father said slowly. “Why are you reading baby blogs?”
The boy’s eyebrows shot up. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”
“No, I mean…” John sat on the edge of the bed, looking tired and sad. “Stiles, those lawyers work for an adoption agency. Heather wants to establish paternity so you can sign a release of parental rights with her. Didn’t you read the letter?”
The letter was jammed in a drawer. Stiles still got dizzy when he saw the crisp folded paper. “I thought we were supposed to talk about that. If the test is positive.”
“Is it going to be positive, Stiles?”
He sighed and rubbed his face. “We were safe, but… I mean, it was her first time, too. It’s not like she has ten dudes it could be. She’s a nice person, Dad.”
They sat there for a minute in silence. After a while John said, “I got a call from UC Berkeley yesterday.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” Stiles yelped. “Not cool!”
“I wanted you to be surprised when the letter came,” his father said with a slight smile. “Anyway. They’re going to offer you a full ride if you can keep your position as Salutorian. A full ride, Stiles. This is everything we’ve been working for. You know it’s not going to be an option without the scholarship, and having a baby around for your last year of high school is a major handicap.”
The excitement of being accepted faded a little. “I know.”
“You aren’t dating Heather. You haven’t even talked to her in months, and she’s pushing for adoption. That means she probably won’t help.”
Stiles closed his browser, clicking the little x with unnecessary force. “I know! Dad, I don’t think it would be some walk in the park or anything. The whole idea scares the crap out of me. How can I even afford a kid? I’m sixteen, the best job I’m gonna get involves flipping burgers. Most of your money is still going to pay off Mom’s hospital bills. We’re lucky we have the house-” He caught the hitch in his father’s expression and stopped. “What?”
The sheriff cleared his throat. “I was planning to sell the house when you left for college. It would cover the bills and pay for a condo. I can put it off, but I have to retire at some point, and my pension isn’t going to be huge.”
“Right, yeah. Just.” He studied his knee, unable to look at his father. “I made this person. It’s half me, like actually mine, and if I end up with a dude there’s no guarantee this will happen again. I want to try.” He took a deep breath. “Can I try?”
“Stiles, you can’t-” John made a frustrated noise. “Would you please give it some thought? This doesn’t have to mean never seeing the child again. They have open adoptions where you can have visitation, letters, all of that. Heather doesn’t want that, but if you do I’m sure the lawyers can arrange it. You don’t have to give up your whole future because of one mistake.”
One mistake. Technically that’s what this was, a mistake. An accident. Stiles felt his eyes burn and spun back to his computer. “I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it. There’s still some homework I have to do for tomorrow, so.”
“It’s past eleven.”
“Yeah, so I better get working.”
He opened a random document from his school folder and stared fixedly at it. When he heard John leave he slumped in the chair. His dad had a good point- a lot of them, actually. Adoption wasn’t the final good-bye it used to be, and the parents went through tons of background checks. They were way better equipped than he was. The baby would probably be better off with two parents, not one spastic teenager. Maybe he felt attached already, but was that enough? Was he being selfish?
There didn’t seem to be an easy answer. Stiles shut his laptop and went to bed.