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It wasn’t like Stiles hadn’t done his shopping around. It did sort of figure that Stiles had the same shitty taste in women that Derek did. But he was almost nineteen, he could do what he wanted, or who he wanted, and that was the point in their decision to see other people at the time. It just happened that he chose to see a witch. Not like he knew she was a witch at the time. It was something people tended to hide from the people they wanted to suck-face with. Religion was a hot-topic that muddied the waters.
Except this time it was all so muddy that it was more like quicksand than water. He and Melody got along good, but Stiles freaking missed Derek. A lot. He missed crashing at the loft and he missed doing homework while Derek found a book to read. And sex was always, always welcome and he and Melody really had a groove going with that one, but... Derek. He missed Derek. They had the pack like always and things were a little weird but Derek was a grown up. Stiles didn’t bring Melody around when Derek would be around, didn’t rub anybody’s nose in anything. He had separate spaces in his life, the pack space and the... girlfriend space. Okay, it was weird. But Stiles was used to weird. It was missing Derek that he couldn’t handle. Two months was his max.
Most witches were cool. He lived with werewolves and studied with druids, so he and the witches generally had no problems.
It was another story with Melody. She had a coven. And it turned out, they were highly protective of Melody. It wasn’t like Stiles had known she was the coven’s unofficial mascot-of-cuteness when he signed on to date her though. He didn’t plan to break any hearts when he told her it wasn’t going to work. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know Derek was out there and always sitting in Stiles’ brain in some dark corner; Stiles had told her about Derek from the start. Maybe it was his way of warning her that it was a fling, or that she could be a rebound, or maybe it was just because Stiles ran his mouth a lot. There was no way to know, just pick one and it was probably right. All the way around, Stiles was the jerk in the scenario, and he understood that. But he was nineteen. He was allowed to screw up, right?
Apparently not, because if he was allowed to screw up, then screwing up wouldn’t mean a witches coven would curse his not-completely-ex-boyfriend and his lifetime-crush into dating for two whole weeks. Lydia and Derek were friends and that was great, but Stiles knew a curse when he saw one, and it would take some seriously supernatural forces to get Lydia that interested in Derek. It wasn’t okay. Not at all. Melody refused to fix anything. Stiles tried lying about maybe trying again with her, but he was a really shitty liar. And not even Deaton could crack whatever jinx they had fixed on Derek and Lydia. It was the longest two weeks of Stiles’ life because his friends wouldn’t let him talk sense into their jinxed brains.
The third week was tolerable because it was like they had caught on that they were kissing each other, at how unnatural it was, and they at least stopped kissing each other in public. Then the fourth week was just awkward because they wouldn’t look at each other and Stiles felt like shit. But they seemed to believe him that time when he told them (again) what Melody’s sisters had done. Lydia quietly arranged for Jordan to take care of it and the coven was besieged by speeding tickets and parking tickets and the last Stiles knew, the whole lot of them would be walking or flying their broomsticks for at least a year because the good Deputy Parrish had ensured they lost their drivers licenses. Stiles’ dad was the sheriff and he wished he’d thought of that option first, but because his dad was the sheriff it probably wouldn’t have worked. Never underestimate the underlings.
Despite how badly he had screwed up, Stiles got Derek back so he was ultimately happy. And then Lydia marched herself into the loft one night because she apparently forgot what a clock was and read Stiles a riot act he would never forget. He was speechless for a good hour after she launched into him and Derek both about stupid men doing stupid things and stupid women doing stupider things and how did none of them know any better and what on earth was she supposed to do now... Stiles had never seen Lydia so messed up. And it wasn’t that she was messed up, really. She was just pregnant.
His definitely very-much-ex-girlfriend Melody won in the end because Stiles had never in his life been so jealous of anybody as he was of Derek Hale. Lydia’s situation came in at a very close second.
***
Brighton was something like an accident. Maybe somebody had planned on her coming along, but it wasn't her parents' design. She was a witches' coven curse that backfired on the witches. Never underestimate a Hale. Never underestimate the dedication of friends. That was the coven's mistake. And nine months later, Lydia Martin signed a birth certificate forever tying her banshee line to the Hale family. Brighton had dark hair like Derek and green eyes, and a brow that furrowed in blatant judgement over anything that confused her. She wasn't a curse, she was a joy. Derek loved her.
Brighton's adorable ways notwithstanding, Lydia was still Lydia, with just one more experience marked off her list. She started her first semester of college pregnant and just barely finished her last final before the contractions hit. Lydia was glad Derek and Stiles wanted her, because she couldn't in good conscience put a child with banshee-werewolf crossed lines up for adoption. Stiles scrawled his name on the birth certificate under Derek's, legal or not.
But as the months went on, Lydia frowned at him whenever she saw him hugging Derek's daughter or saw the dark hair peeking out under the blanket of the baby-sling Stiles liked to carry her around in. ("What? It's like a hammock! I want one for me. Bri gets one.") He finally called her on it and she cleared the matter up with her usual bluntness.
"School right now doesn't worry me. So you have a year to consider me as a surrogate," Lydia told him. "After that I'll be finished with the general classes and will need to focus. Hormone roller-coasters will not be allowed.
And Stiles couldn't actually form words for an hour after that. His tells were too obvious and Lydia had put things together he didn't mean for anyone to pick up on. He was nineteen going in to twenty. He wasn't supposed to be stealing his boyfriend's child away from him, Stiles was supposed to be doing homework and classes and finding a job. All of which he did... With a baby in a sling across his chest, or in her car seat carrier. And Lydia wanted to give him his own real-life doll that looked like him. He pretty much couldn't talk to Lydia for days, he didn't know what to say.
In the end he said, politely, "yes, please."
And a few months later they sat on the Stilinskis' back porch. Stiles had a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand - a gift from Scott - and he had personally gone through a quarter of it. Derek and Scott were fine helping him wear down the bottle and Lydia didn't drink, just sat next to her boyfriend on the porch, but Stiles was a very happy drunk.
"It's a girl?"
"Yes," said Lydia.
"Another one?"
"If you wanted to pick for yourself you should have bought from a store, not invetro," Lydia told him. Scott snickered as Stiles tried to place the word "invetro."
"What do we call her?" Stiles asked suddenly. "Babies gotta be named."
"Stiles, you went through this with Bri already," Scott pointed out. Stiles shook his head.
"Nope. My DNA did something normal. It made a baby, man! Me!"
Derek stared at him, tried not to laugh. "Not exactly by yourself, Stiles."
Stiles frowned back. "Did too. I went in a little room by myself. No sexytimes happened."
With Jordan Parrish sitting suddenly uncomfortable on the bench beside her, Lydia actually facepalmed. Stiles didn't notice.
"What about Willow?" He jumped tracks too fast and for a moment nobody knew what he was talking about.
"What?" Derek asked. Stiles sat up, nodded eagerly.
"Willow. You know, like... Willow," he said. Lydia looked mildly offended.
"Stiles, you are not naming our daughter after a Buffy the Vampire Slayer character."
"No, I'm naming her after a tree," Stiles countered seriously, but then he grinned mischievously. "And a Buffy character."
Before Lydia could protest he looked to Derek to present his logic to the tie breaker. "Buffy's Willow was brilliant and beautiful, just like someone else we know. And she was a kickass witch, which hello..." He gestured to himself. "Plus, her first love was a werewolf. So, yes, we are so naming this baby girl Willow."
"You are not a witch," argued Lydia. Stiles nodded.
"And I said I'm naming her after a tree. Not a TV show," he said. Lydia fluttered her hands and dismissed it.
"She's not my child, so name her Willow if you have to," she said.
"I do," said Stiles. He was very resolute and determined on that name and would not be shaken. Except he stopped smiling and shook himself out of it. He looked over at Derek.
"Wanna get married?" Stiles asked. He sounded like he had sobered up even. Derek blinked, surprised.
"What?"
"You and me, married, with our Lydia-babies, kicking supernatural ass between diaper changes," said Stiles. He pushed himself off the porch steps and went to kneel in front of Derek. He was a little wobbly at it and Derek caught him by the arm to pull him out of the ridiculousness. Stiles crashed in his lap, almost pouting.
"I mean it," he said.
"I know," said Derek. He met Stiles' gaze and grinned. The faint blue tinged around Stiles' brown eyes. "So yeah, I do."
***
It was an odd sight, even if he had seen it a hundred times in the past two years. Lydia Martin with a curly-haired green-eyed little girl on her hip, standing in his kitchen and making surprised faces to taunt a one year old. Brighton giggled in a shriek that should have hurt his ears but Derek was expecting it and it only drew out a smile. Lydia made another face, so much closer in proximity to the ear-splitting sound of joy, and seemed to decide she was done with that noise. She blew a raspberry against her daughter's cheek and then handed the giggler over to Stiles.
They were her test-kitchen for domesticality. She could have her choice in big city jobs once she finished her masters but she wanted her name to have the phD at the end when they listed her Field's Medal. So for now she just dabbled in the mommy-moments between school and work life, learning and figuring out what she liked. She was in it for the experience and then the good Deputy Parrish got the version of Lydia who had it locked-in.
Whether Stiles accepted it or not, Lydia had adopted him as brother or minion it wasn't quite clear. The pair of them bickered more than Derek and Stiles did and still left the conversation both equally convinced they had won. And she had carried not one but two children for them, so she was family whether she liked it or not. It seemed to please the queen even if she would play it off.
"So how are the plans?" she asked Stiles. He was distracted by Brighton's tiny fist wrapped around his lower lip and it took a moment to sink in.
"What plans?"
"Wedding?" Lydia prompted. Stiles looked to Derek.
"He's got it," said Stiles. Derek rolled his eyes.
"Which means basically that the plans haven't moved much," he said. Lydia looked at Stiles, obviously judging him for something.
"What?" Stiles said, defensive. "I don't plan."
"You plan everything, what do you mean you don't plan?" Lydia said. Stiles shrugged at the baby. Brighton bopped him in the center of the forehead.
"I do not appreciate you taking sides already, Bri. I don't feel I'm ready for that level of maturity from a one year old," he told her. Bri danced on her chubby knees and did it again.
"What do you want your wedding to be like?" Lydia pressed on, pretending to be oblivious to the child distracting Stiles from her in lecture-mode. "You never thought about your own wedding?"
Stiles made a face at Brighton. "Nope. Not really. I mean, it was all just day dreaming anyway," he said. "It was always something I figured you would do and I just had to show up."
Stiles seemed to realize what he had said and looked back to Brighton. "Bri baby, your daddy is an idiot. We should practice this word. You will be using it a lot. Id-ee-ott. Can you say it?"
Brighton squealed and tried to mimic the sounds he made in her face. Derek reached across the table and removed the impressionable child from her idiot second-father.
"I still think you're lying," Derek said, patiently. "You had something in your head. You're you. There's always something."
"It was your idea," added Lydia.
"Scott and Allison started it," said Stiles in his own defense. Derek raised an eyebrow. "Well it was my idea but I copied from them."
"Would you like a shovel to dig that hole out from under you a little faster?" asked Derek.
"Nope, I'm good."
"Then what do you want?" said Derek. "You had an idea in your head about what you wanted it to be like..."
"Well, yeah, but it was pretty basic. I just wanted me at one end up by the preacher and the girl at the other walking toward me and that's obviously not the case here. You're you, not Lydia. Thank god. And I wanted stuff in blue because I like blue. And... I dunno. A Spider-Man cake would be awesome."
Derek stared at Lydia in mild annoyance. "That is literally more than I've gotten from him on this in months."
Lydia nodded, equally annoyed. "Yes, because wedding planning is apparently woman's work," she said. She huffed and reached over to take tiny Willow from her baby carrier. "Fine. I came here to talk wedding stuff anyway. We'll just discuss yours after mine. The women will work it. You go buy some bacon. Derek, where's the wedding binder I gave you? And that thing better not be empty..."
"It's not," Derek said quickly. "And what do you mean your wedding?"
Stiles looked pale. Lydia beamed and held up her hand to show off the ring neither of them had paid attention to. "Soon to be Mrs. Lydia Parrish."
Stiles pounced on her and Willow in a congratulatory hug. It was a big dent in his fifteen-year plan but there was no overlooking the happy smile on Lydia's face. And that was something that Derek had noticed would always put a smile on Stiles' face.
***
The day of the big event showed up and Stiles wondered what the hell he was doing. He looked out from the top of the stairwell at a huge crowd slowly filtering into the rented hall. Then he looked over at his dad.
"I don't know this many people," he said. His dad grinned at him and squeezed his shoulder.
"Funny thing happens at weddings and funerals. Everybody remembers they know you," he said. Stiles' brow furrowed.
"Funerals? Really? Now you mention funerals?"
"Okay, maybe that wasn't the best choice..." His dad shrugged it off. "But you get my point."
"Yeah, that was your subtle way of saying my life is ending and I'm twenty-two and I have kids and I'm getting married and I'm doing it backwards and-" Stiles shut up because his dad held a hand over his mouth.
"That is not my point, and in no way was it anything I would ever say. It's not like this is a surprise to you or anybody else. This is where you're going," his dad said. "And everyone is here to acknowledge that and support you guys. Even if you don't know them, that's what they showed up for. You should be inundated with good vibes right now, kid."
"Yeah. I just don't do social situations," said Stiles, grudgingly allowing the positive spin. His dad squeezed his shoulder.
"Just look for your friends, you'll do fine," he said. And they did. They stood on the stairs above the crowd, out of sight, and waited for the dawdlers to go in and find their seats. Then music started. The music.
"This is so weird," he muttered. He walked down the stairs with his dad to meet the wedding party. They had a flower girl and a ring bearer and everything just waiting for him.
"Why?" his dad asked.
"Because it's Derek at the other end of the walk," said Stiles. "And this isn't how it goes in the movies. So it's never really been what I had in my head, you know?"
"Yeah, I think you'll get over that," said his dad. Stiles was attacked by his little sister then, the flower girl in her blue and pink floral frills rushing his knees with her basket of petals.
"Lookit! Pretty princess," Cecily said.
"Yep," Stiles replied, crouching next to her. Caleb Argent showed up then and tried to hand him the pillow with the rings but Stiles' dad caught the boy up.
"Not just yet, buddy," he told the tiny blond. Caleb started playing with the lace on the pillow and curled shyly against Casey's shoulder.
"Come on Cecily, time to go be a princess," came a surprising voice. Stiles looked up to see Lydia's mom Natalie approaching with her hand out to call the girl over. Cecily scampered over and took her hand to pull her to the doors. Stiles looked up, past his dad and Caleb to see Lydia Martin in a beautiful white gown, white lace up to her neck off-setting the beautiful strawberry blonde curls. A silver tiara folded in to her hair and glinted in the bright sunlight of the hall. She smiled at him and Stiles nearly fell over.
"Wha- uh- this is not-" Stiles couldn't talk.
Lydia scoffed and slid up to take his arm. "It's our wedding and you're giving me away."
"That's not how it goes - our wedding? Derek-" Stiles tried not to flail because he was in a tux and she was in her that wasn’t even a dress it was a fluffy cloud of wedding perfection and just- Stiles couldn’t talk. Music warped away into the background and Lydia talked rushed because they were supposed to be walking and not talking. But Stiles wasn’t sure he had a handle on the walking thing, either.
"You have my children. We can share a wedding."
"And they are beautiful chi- Lydia! It's your wedding!"
"Yes and I'll spend it how I want. Since when do I stand on tradition?"
"Uhhh well despite the part about your kids you are wearing white so I guess..."
"Please. This isn't tradition. It's Vera Wang. There's a difference."
Stiles just stared at her, mouth hanging open. He may or may not have had tears in his eyes. She smiled at him, smug.
"And that's why we did it," she said. She caught his arm and levered up to kiss his cheek. "Focus, Stiles. We're going to miss our cue."
The music registered then. The quiet buzz of people sitting in an audience - that now made sense because there was no way he and Derek combined knew half the population of Beacon Hills - waited just beyond the double doors into the sanctuary. A church wedding. Blue flowers. Lydia at the end of the aisle waiting for him. And then Derek at the front of it, probably grinning at Parrish like the smug bastard he was for getting Stiles exactly the wedding he had always pictured in his head, with that one slight twist.
They followed Lydia's mom and Stiles' three year old half sister Cecily down the aisle, the flower girl throwing flowers liberally and then dumping the basket over her head and announcing it a crown because she was a princess. Brighton burbled at them from the front row where Melissa held her in her lap. Beside them, Talia kept Willow quiet with a bottle. Despite the shock, Stiles managed to find his voice by the time the judge overseeing the double wedding started asking questions. Did he have everything he wanted out of life just then? He did. He definitely, very much did. None of it was anyone’s definition of normal, though, which was probably why it worked so well for him.
***