Welcome to the last chapter of this story! I figured it was time I put this thing to bed, and I think we're kind of at a good point for it to finish? I'm very thankful for all of you who have stuck with me until the end.

See you on the other side!

(Also I'm thinking about continuing this verse with some 'first time' one-shots of their life together. Y/N?)

The baby heals unbelievably quickly. Derek is there, the day they take her off the tiny ventilator that had been helping her breathe and watches as she takes her first unaided breath. He's there when they decide she can come out of the incubator and into a hospital crib, and as she cries when they move her, it's tiny, hardly even a noise at all, but it's sweet relief to hear it.

Derek is the first person that isn't a medical professional to change her diaper and dress her in a onesie that Lydia had brought in along with a bag of other things that she decided the baby would need.

Jackson, trembling and grinning from ear to ear, is the first person to hold her close to feed her a bottle and rock her off to sleep.

Stiles won't come to see her. Won't touch her, won't even talk about her. When she is released from the hospital, three days after the baby is taken off the ventilator, she has her father take her back to the Hale house and refuses, once again, to leave Derek's bedroom.

It's not often that the child is alone, whether it's Jackson and Lydia or Isaac, Danny, or Boyd, she always has a pack member with her and other scattered around the hospital just in case. The sheriff visits occasionally, but never stays long. He looks pained each and every time his fingers brush over the girl's tiny chest just to check she's still breathing. Looks like it's killing him as she guzzles down the small amount of milk they're able to give her.

In the same way, Stiles is never alone. Derek had granted some amnesty to Scott and Allison, put them on border patrol around the house just for peace of mind. Just in case Stiles regresses to the days of trying to fly from the roof of the house. There are also at least two people in the house with her at all times. They listen to her cry as she tries to stem the flow of milk from her breasts, tries to battle with the warring emotions. The ache she feels because she doesn't have her child in her arms and the terror she feels of having a child conceived by rape, in the worst time she has ever and will ever experience.

Derek isn't allowed to hold her at night; she doesn't wrap her fingers around his wrist anymore or rest her ear above his heart just to fall asleep.

He isn't even sure if she does sleep anymore.

It's Erica in the end, who locks the door to Derek's room from the inside so that Stiles can't run from the conversation they all know needs to be had. It's not ideal, cornering her when she is that far regressed in her recovery, but the baby will be coming home in less than two weeks. The poor thing doesn't even have a name yet, at close to five weeks old. They only have one more week to register her. There's no more time to wait.

Jackson and Lydia are at the hospital with the Sheriff, called in by the neo-specialist in charge of the baby's care, leaving Derek, Isaac and Boyd spread out across the house and trying valiantly not to listen as Erica crawls into bed beside Stiles and speaks in low tones until she stops trying to get away.

"Stiles. You know we have to talk." Erica's voice whispers through the house.

"There's nothing to talk about." Derek moves through the house silently until he's sat outside of his own bedroom door. It isn't long before Isaac migrates to sit beside him, Danny following soon after. It was useless to try and stay away from the conversation in the first place.

"She's coming home soon. The doctors say two weeks at the most." There is no reply beyond the sound of Stiles' heart racing up, the rustle of sheets as someone moves.

"You need to at least name her. Stiles, you have less than a week to register her. She needs a name."

Still silence. Erica blows out a frustrated breath. It's been this way since she came home more than two weeks ago.

"She has people who love her. She needs to come home to a family that surround her, and she'll always have that, but Stiles. She needs a mother, she needs you. And you need her. Don't deny it, you can't. I've seen the way you hug yourself, and it's because you know that she should be there in your arms instead."

Through the door it is so, so faint. A tiny sob that Derek knows instinctively is Stiles, because it sounds oddly similar to the way that the baby girl cries when she's feeling lonely.

"You loved her the second you laid eyes on her, Stiles. I know you did. All you wanted when you woke up was to see her and make sure she was doing okay. Just tell us what's going on in your head. We can't help, if you don't tell us what's happening."

There is almost ten minutes of silence, in which Derek grows twitchy and has to dig his clawed fingers into the floorboards to stop himself from going in there and figuring this out himself. He's seconds away from standing and doing just that when Stiles breathes out softly. There's a rustle of sheets which he imagines is Stiles turning to face Erica.

"Hey there." Erica coo's, and he can hear the smile in her voice the same way he knows Stiles is trying hard not to cry when she starts to whisper-talk.

"I'm so, so sorry." Her voice is choked and harsh from misuse.

"No." Erica replies, strong and certain. "You have absolutely nothing to apologise for. I know that none of us could ever begin to understand what you've been through and how you must be feeling. You're entitled to any and all reactions you have Stiles, but you're acting like your baby girl doesn't exist even though we all know it's killing you. She isn't the enemy Stiles and you need to decide what you want to do before we bring her home."

"What do you mean, what do I want to do? She's coming home, isn't she?" Derek holds his breath, tries to calm his over-worked heart. That had been a point of contention between the entire pack, as to whether or not Stiles would even want to baby to come home. They could have her adopted, although they'd have to look for a preternatural family, given that the increased healing the baby displayed is a sure sign that she's inherited her mother's strong magic.

"If you decide you can't do this, we can start looking at other options. Like adoption. You have to make your mind up, and soon."

"No!" Stiles voice is desperate and high. They listen closely as she wriggles her way out of the sheets and then her feet hit the ground hard as she stumbles.

"No! You can't take her. I'll be better, I'll do better. I promise. It's just- I love her. I do, I promise you I do. My whole body aches for her. It kills me that I wasn't there for the first real breath she took or the first time she took a bottle. I want to see the face Derek will make when he holds her. I wish- I wish that – I wish that I could look at her and not think about all the bad decisions I made or all the horrible things I did in order to have her here. I wish I could forget that she's the most amazing thing that happened to me and I only get to have her because I was raped."

A firm fist to the side of his bedroom door and Derek has his arms wrapped around Stiles in seconds as she dissolves into sobs right before them, curling in onto herself as she screams hoarsely into her hands.

"It's okay." He soothes, holding her as she shatters in his arms. "It's okay."

Stiles sleeps for fourteen straight ours once she's cried herself out, curled into Derek's side for the majority of the time. They swap out for three hours when Jackson comes home from the hospital, but she whimpers in her sleep and Derek is right back in his space. When she wakes up, she smiles at him, just a twitch of her mouth. It's the most positive emotion he's seen in her in almost two months.

She climbs out of bed slowly, the way she does almost everything, and he watches the fragile lines of her body as she shakes off her long sleep and pulls herself together for the day. He likes the look on her face as she stands up straight and lets the hunch drop from her shoulders before she heads for his bathroom and into the shower.

He hears her singing under the water from the kitchen as he makes breakfast.

Erica, Boyd, Lydia and Isaac have gone to the hospital this morning, more than usual, but it's going to be a different day. They'd all felt it, as Stiles cried in his arms last night for hours and hours. As she apologised and screamed and clutched desperately at Derek's arms even though what she really wanted was that tiny little human, curled up in her crib in a sterilized room two miles away.

Stiles comes down dressed in leggings and one of Derek's Henley's, way too big on her and hanging off of one shoulder. He thinks she looks beyond beautiful. Jackson presses a kiss to her head as he passes to grab more coffee, and she crinkles her eyes in a smile as she pours some orange juice.

"You want some breakfast?" Derek calls lightly, buttering toast at the counter across from her. She glances up at him, eyes honey gold and bright in a way they haven't been since before they even knew about the horrible things that had been happening to her. She's still contemplating as he drops the plate in the middle of the table beside a bowl of scrambled eggs.

"I probably should." She replies eventually, voice still dry and scratchy. When she looks up at him again, a slice of toast in one hand and her glass of juice clutched in the other. " Gotta get my strength up. I'm a mom now, after all."

Jackson freezes with his cup halfway to his mouth and Derek's hand clenches too tightly around the piece of toast he had just picked up. She glances between them, face falling quickly.

"What's wrong, what is it? Do you- Do you not want me to bring her home?" Derek drops his toast quickly, reaching over the table to clutch at her hands and pull her a little closer.

"Of course we do. And of course you're a mom now. It's just the first time you've accepted it out loud. We were a bit shocked that's all." They both glance at Jackson, who has a grin hidden behind his coffee cup. The tension that had been gathering back in her shoulders leaks right back out again and she squeezes Derek's hands so softly it's hardly recognisable. He smiles crookedly at her and lets her delicate fingers go.

"Okay." Stiles breathes out, picking up her slice of toast so carefully. "Okay."

The baby is still so tiny. Derek had warned her in the car that she might have recovered a lot, but she hadn't grown all that much, but she hadn't understood just how tiny she would still be. Everyone but Derek and herself have cleared the room to wait in the corridor, although her father is at work and not here for this moment, which she regrets.

It takes more energy and determination that she'd ever want to admit to in order to cross the room just stand beside her daughters crib. Her entire body is trembling as she looks down at that tiny, tiny little human that just weeks ago was barely even expected to live through the night. (Stiles has never, ever been more grateful for the magic thrumming through her veins. That she could pass along that one thing to keep this perfect little thing alive long enough for her mother to get herself together.)

Derek's hand is a steady pressure against her lower back, and it doesn't feel like weakness when he has to hold her up as her child opens her eyes and gurgles like there is never and will never be anything that could hurt her in this world. Innocent and wide eyed and so, so beautiful.

It's impossible now to think that any piece of this perfection could be infected by the evil that made her possible in the first place.

"Do you want to hold her?" Derek's voice is hushed, a warm gust of breath in her ear that makes her shiver. She shakes her head no, biting down on her lower lip as her child waves little hands weakly in the air.

"What if I fuck this up?" Stiles whispers, finally reaching out so carefully so that the little girl can grasp a finger in her tiny hand. The baby's mouth opens and closes quickly, and Stiles knows that means she is hungry. She knows that, thank goodness, but it'll have to wait for a moment.

"What if we bring her home, and our lives are a mess. What if we get attacked? What if I don't get out of bed for week and won't eat and won't talk? It's been five weeks and I haven't even named her, Derek. What if I can't do this?" Derek's arm moves until it's wrapped around her waist, pulling her in close against the firm side of his body.

"Look at her, Stiles, and tell me you won't do anything and everything you can to give her a good life."

"Of course I would." Stiles objects vehemently. "But-"

"No buts, Stiles. You just have to love her. That's all. Love her and try your best. You're going to be amazing." She nods slowly, curling a single finger around her daughter's tiny hand as she thinks.

"You'll help me, right?" Stiles asks softly.

"Of course." Derek replies immediately. "We all will." He nods off towards the windows opening out to the corridor, where her pack are pretending they are reading magazines or talking amongst themselves, when even she can tell they're listening in on her and Derek.

Subtly has never, ever been their forte.

She can't help but smile at them.

"Well, okay then." Stiles, so carefully and making sure that Derek's arm doesn't stray beyond its point of strength around her waist, she leans over and slides thin hands beneath the tiny child, lifting her slowly until she's cradled in her arms snugly against her chest. Once she's settled, she allows Derek to lead her to the chair just off to their right, arms forming an odd barrier as she lowers herself into the seat, still holding this tiny little thing so carefully. Like spun glass.

"I think she's hungry." Stiles whispers to Derek, gazing down at her little girl, and only just about hears Derek's affirmative noise.

"Do you want me to make up a bottle for her?" He inquires softly, and she glances up to him and then back down to where the baby is mouthing at her shirt softly. Slowly, trying not to think too hard about what she's about to suggest, she shakes her head in a negative.

"I think – could you pass me her blanket. I think I want to try it the natural way." Stiles glances up at him with her face flaming hot. Having a hungry baby so close to her swollen breasts is too much a temptation, and she knows how much healthier it is for her child. It's about time she formed a real connection with her, and what better way? If they're going to have this life, where she is a mother and a care giver first, and everything else second, she should start as she means to go on. Strong, reliable, good.

Derek grins at her, handing over the soft blanket so that she can cover herself up with a blush spreading down her neck. Before she lowers the blanket over herself though, she glances once again between the baby and Derek. Although she knows it isn't possible, knows there is no way that this tiny little girl could resemble Derek, Stiles can see her in him. A fighter, alive and thriving against all odds. Resilient and beautiful.

"I want to call her Julia." It tumbles from her mouth before she can really think about the impact it could have, causing Derek to freeze where he is stood. Outside of the room, she can see those with preternatural hearing pause and turn to stare at them through the window.

"I mean, only if you wouldn't mind. Of course. Never mind, it was a silly thought just ignore-"

Derek's arm coming up around them, his soft mouth pressing soft kisses against her temple and along her cheek regardless of the tears she can feel clinging to his eyelashes.

"I love it. I'd be honoured. Thank you. Stiles, thank you so much." Tears lining her own eyes, she nods, turns to be face to face with him, pressing her own soft kiss to his mouth for the first time.

"Thank you." She whispers back, keeping Derek close as she arranges the blanket over herself and Julia so that she can make her first attempt at feeding her daughter.

It's not easy, but nothing up to this point has been, and much of their future won't be either. But soon, she'd be taking her daughter home. To live with their pack, and rebuild her life, and she might not know much about motherhood or how to raise a child, but if Stiles has ever been anything; it's a quick study.