Chapter Text
It had been a year since Stiles had helped Scott save Alec, the pack was all over the world trying to protect supernatural creatures from Monroe and her hunters. Stiles offered to stay in Virginia to finish up his training as an FBI agent. He also couldn't be around her. Not after how things ended.
Stiles was in a large loft that Argent had paid for to keep him safe. It wasn't as big as Derek's old loft but it was comfortable which is what he needed after everything.
Stiles walked into his living room area with a book in his hands. He hadn't gotten a chance to read a book in a while so he was enjoying himself.
All of a sudden, there was a heavy knock at the door that caused Stiles to drop his book.
The knocking happened again and Stiles walked over to the security system that Argent had set up. Stiles flipped a switch and a monitor turned on to show who was at his door.
It was Derek Hale.
Stiles' mouth became very dry. He hadn't seen Derek in months. The last time he saw him, Derek was leaving a group of werewolves with Scott.
Derek still looked good. His physique hadn't changed much but the former Alpha looked anxious which was odd. He hadn't seen Derek that nervous since he thought he was losing his powers.
"Derek?" Stiles asked through the intercom.
"Open the door. I need your help." Derek called out.
Stiles nodded and rushed towards the door to open it. He gets a better look at Derek and noticed that the werewolf was slightly less put together than normal. His hair was ruffled and his beard was a little scruffier than usual. He also seemed to have fresh injuries on his body.
"What are you doing here?" Stiles said as he led Derek inside. "Wait, how did you know where I was?"
"I heard you lived here." Derek said, wincing in pain. "Argent gave me the address last month."
"I figured." Stiles said with a nod. He noticed the injuries. "Let me get the first aid kit."
"I'm fine." Derek grimaced, feeling a strange sensation going through him.
"Really, because you look like you've been through hell." Stiles said, ignoring Derek and grabbing the kit in the bathroom. "What happened? Did Monroe find you?"
"No. I've maintained my cover for the past few months. Nobody knows I'm here, not even Scott." Derek explained.
Stiles returned to the living room with the kit in his hands, "You're hiding this from Scott? This must be serious."
Derek glared at Stiles, "I don't need anything. I'm fine."
"I know. You have werewolf healing and stuff but let me at least make the pain bearable." Stiles said as he opened the kit.
Derek groaned, "Fine. Go ahead."
Stiles stared at Derek as the werewolf removed his shirt. He swallowed a gasp as he looked at Derek: he was still as chiseled as always with a few scratches on his back. He still looked the same.
Except Stiles noticed four pin pricks on Derek's abdomen. Not a surgical markings that a needle would cause, it looked different.
"What did happen, exactly?" Stiles asked as he prepared to clean the wound.
Derek sighed, he knew the always inquisitive Stiles Stilinski would not stop until he got answers. "It happened a few nights ago. I was investigating a group of murders in Georgia. Same MO, the bodies were being cut open... Only leaving piles of visera."
"Did you figure out what it was?" Stiles asked, dabbing rubbing alcohol on a cotton swab.
"Not exactly. I thought for a second it was a deranged werewolf or something worse." Derek admitted. "Then I was ambushed..." He grimaced in pain as Stiles put the swab on Derek's wounds. "It looked like a normal woman... Dressed in all black... Clothes were in tatters."
"Sounds like a witch. Or in this case, a hag." Stiles said.
"Hags don't exist." Derek insisted.
"I get it, you're all Mr. Supernatural Encyclopedia but what if this is something we never encountered in Beacon Hills?" Stiles stated.
Derek groaned, "Maybe... The point is she jumped him and stuck me with these... Long needle-like fingernails."
"Explains your abdomen." Stiles said.
"Yeah... She then whispered in my ear before she escaped." Derek told him.
"What'd she say?" Stiles asked.
Derek cleared his throat, "Vei purta pe vecie povara păcatelor familiei tale. O povară de care nu vei scăpa niciodată."
Stiles raised an eyebrow, "That's Romanian?"
Derek nodded, "Not sure what it means but it definitely sounds Romanian."
Stiles walked over to his coffee table where a notebook sat. He grabbed it and a pen. "I don't wanna be pushy but if you can write that down, I can try to translate it for you."
Derek sighed as he took the notebook and pen from Stiles, "You speak Romanian?"
"Not really but the Internet is a beautiful thing." Stiles joked.
Derek rolled his eyes as he started writing in the notebook. He then grimaced in discomfort, feeling an odd sensation in his body. It felt like a weird tingling coursing through him.
Stiles noticed the expression on Derek's face and looked at him with concern, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm... Fine." Derek grimaced, feeling his abdomen. Something felt off, like his normally rock hard abs had a touch of softness to them.
"Really? Because you look a lot more stoic than usual." Stiles stated. "You sure you're okay?"
Derek sighed, he knew he was going to regret this. "This is gonna sound like a weird question... But do I look... Different to you?"
Stiles swallowed hard, not sure what to say, "Different? What do you mean?"
"Like... I don't know, do I look like- God, this is stupid." Derek muttered.
Stiles sighed, a warm smile forming on his lips. "Dude, I've heard stupid crap before. Nothing you can say would sound stupid to me."
Derek blushed but covered it by looking down to finish writing what he heard. How was Stiles making him feel this way after all these years?
Derek handed Stiles the notebook and pen, "Good luck." He gets up to leave but Stiles stops him.
"Whoa, where are you going?" Stiles asked, gripping Derek's arm.
They both looked at each other's eyes, it wasn't intimidation from Derek and it wasn't demanding from Stiles. There were complicated feelings there. Both of them pulled away simultaneously as they looked away from one another.
"You're still beat up. You need to rest." Stiles insisted. Before Derek could disagree, the younger man cut him off, "No buts. Sleep in my room."
Derek raised an eyebrow, "Where are you going to sleep?"
"Oh, trust me. I'm gonna be up all night, trying to figure out how to translate this sentence." Stiles insisted. "I'll be fine."
Before he could protest, Derek heard a loud gurgling noise. He looked down and realized it was coming from his stomach.
"And get yourself something to eat. It clearly sounds like you're hungry." Stiles said, walking over to his desk.
"I'll eat tomorrow... I can barely keep my eyes open." Derek said.
Stiles nodded, "Suit yourself." He grabbed a pair of noise cancelling headphones and started to do research.
Derek walked into the bedroom and found a queen size bed in the room. He saw the bed wasn't made but it wasn't too messy. He sniffed the air and realized that Stiles had indeed been alone.
Derek's focus was pulled away when his stomach made the gurgling noise again. This time, it was much louder. Derek pulled up his shirt to check his abdomen. Aside from the gurgling, he was perfectly normal.
Derek laid down on the bed, covered himself with the comforter and started to drift off to sleep. As he slept, the gurgle grew louder which made Derek wince in discomfort and turn away from the edge of the bed.
As he slept, Derek failed to notice that his body was getting bigger. The sound of stretching and expanding is heard as the shape under the blanket was becoming quite huge.
A low moan escaped from Derek as his concealed body grew under the blanket. The bed began to creak at the increasing size of the current occupant.
The next morning, Stiles was in the kitchen making breakfast. He hadn't gotten any sleep, too busy trying to translate the sentence Derek had written down.
Stiles did his best to quietly prepare food so Derek could rest. Stiles still couldn't believe that Derek Hale was sleeping in his bed, he remembered Derek staying in his room when he was hiding him from the police. He still remembered how the clothes he let Derek try on smelled like.
Stiles cheeks flushed but he calmed himself as he heard the sound of something stirring in his bedroom. It sounded like something heavy was moving around in the room.
"Derek?" Stiles called out. "You okay in there?"
"I'm... Fine." Derek's voice answered.
"Well, get up. I made breakfast, we can talk about what I decoded from those words you wrote." Stiles told him.
Underneath the comforter that he was bundled in, Derek groaned in pain. He felt a heavy weight pressed against him, a weight that felt twice as big as him. A weight that seemed to be making it difficult to get out of the bed.
Derek slowly pulled the comforter off his face and, what he didn't know, his face was puffier than it once was. There was a thick second chin just underneath his once chiseled jawline. He rubbed his face and was greeted by the slightly bloated cheeks which made his eyes widened in shock.
Derek looked at his hands and noticed how meaty his fingers were. They were thick and larger than they once were, his hands seem to resemble large mitts. He examined his forearm and saw they were definitely thicker, twice the size they had been.
In a frantic manner, Derek tried to sit up but something was preventing him from doing so. He pulled back the comforter to see what was causing the disruption:
His own stomach, massive and bulbous. He reached down to touch it, to see if it was real or just a figment of his exhausted imagination.
As soon as his hand made contact with his belly, Derek felt how wobbly it was. He grabbed at the side and it felt like fresh dough, that jiggled and wobbled once he let go.
Derek rolled on his side and slowly sat himself up, feeling the full weight he was now carrying. He stood up and groaned due to the weight as he went to reach for his aching back but could barely reach because of his stomach and oozing love handles.
Derek took a step, causing the loose objects in the bedroom to shake. He walked over to the mirror on the wall and got a good look at his reflection. He got a good look at his legs which were as thick as tree trunks and were holding up his weight.
Aside from the physical changes, he noticed that his clothes had grown with him.
Derek grabbed his belly again then pounded it which made the sound of a tight drum. This wasn't an illusion or a hallucination: this was real.
"No... NO!"
Stiles heard a loud yelling of Derek's refusal caused him to nearly drop the coffee cup he had been drinking from. He set the mug down with shaking hands and ran towards his bedroom.
"Derek! You okay?" Stiles called out as he reached the room.
What Stiles found standing in his bedroom left him speechless for the first time in his life: a massively obese Derek Hale in his room.
Stiles stared in shock because not only was Derek huge because of his weight. Derek had grown taller, he was staring down at Stiles who stared at him with a look of humiliation. Stiles looked up at Derek to meet his eyes, he might look different but Stiles still saw Derek.
"Okay, that's- wow." Stiles stammered.
Derek glared at the younger man, "Don't."
Stiles stammered nervously, "What?"
"Don't even think about it." Derek said with a growl as he lumbered past Stiles to leave the room.
As Derek walked past him, Stiles saw that Derek's rear end was huge too. It was a massive bubble butt that wobbled as Derek walked. He blushed again, something about seeing Derek like this triggered something in him. Did he find Derek attractive like... This?
"I wasn't... I swear." Stiles said, doing his best to hide his amusement and mild arousal.
Derek grumbled as he stormed into the living room towards the front door, "I need to get out of here."
"Wait, why?" Stiles said, running to put himself between the huge werewolf and his front door.
"I can't be here... Not when I look-" Derek couldn't finish the sentence. He felt ashamed as he looked down at his massive gut. "I can't be here. I need to leave."
Stiles didn't budge, "Don't you at least want to know what I found out?"
Derek scowled at Stiles, remembering that he had come to the younger man for a reason. Part of him wanted to get away from Stiles, he didn't want Stiles to see him like this.
However, Derek had come to Stiles for help and he might know why this happened to him. Changing his body into a massive lumbering mound of flesh.
"Fine." Derek muttered as he went over to the couch and sat down. As he sat down, Derek let out a low groan. All the extra weight he was now carrying was draining on him. He also noticed how much space his large postier took up, both butt cheeks pressed down on the cushions.
"I- uh- I spent the night trying to translate the words you wrote." Stiles quickly explained as he walked over to his desk where his laptop sat. "I was able to run the sentence through a language translator app and I have a feeling-"
"Just say it. What did it say?" Derek asked, sounding annoyed but also terrified of his predicament.
Stiles nodded and typed buttons to pull up what he found. "I found out what it said and I think it might explain why-"
"I'm the size of a blimp?" Derek finished the thought.
"I wasn't gonna put it like that." Stiles said, trying to be nice because of how he might be feeling. He cleared his throat and said, "The translation is this: You shall forevermore carry the weight of your family's sins. A weight you will never shed."
Derek blinked, the translation repeating in his head, especially the last part of it. A weight you shall never shed. He looked down at his large gut that was sitting on his lap and his thick thighs.
"So... This is permanent?" Derek asked, almost to himself.
"I don't know. Whatever did this to you might know about your family history." Stiles replied. "If we find out what did this, maybe we can get you back to normal."
Derek remained silent, staring at his meaty hands. He didn't even know what attacked him, what did this to him. He was stuck like this.
All of a sudden, a pair of hands grabbed his hands as Derek looked up to see Stiles kneeling in front of him.
"I'll do whatever it takes to help you. I promise." Stiles said, a sincere smile on his face.
Derek stared at Stiles, his entire body feeling warm. He hadn't felt like this since.... Since Paige. He let out a shaky breath, "I don't think there's any fixing this."
"If there isn't, then I'll do what I can to help you adjust. Either way, I'm not leaving your side. Not ever." Stiles said kindly.
Derek managed a smile, "Okay."