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He looks at her sometimes when she sleeps.
It’s the only time he can look at her.
It’s the only time he doesn’t feel like he has to run away from her gaze.
It’s the only time she can’t look back at him with these sad, hazel eyes – confused but so hopeful. Like….like, she’s holding her breath for him to do something. Say something.
He can’t.
He knows that she doesn’t even understand what he is to her.
“Why do you make breakfast for Grandpa Sheriff everyday?” He had heard her ask Stiles as they cleared the table. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. The connection with her is so strong her heartbeat is a constant hum in his veins.
“Because he’s my dad.” Stiles had answered.
“Because he’s your dad you make him breakfast?” She had asked again – confirmation vital for any six year old.
Stiles must have nodded.
“Stiles tomorrow can you help me make breakfast for Derek?” She asked. “I haven’t done that. Is that why he doesn’t like me?”
Her tiny voice broke his heart.
She’s his daughter. She’s family. And he can’t stand to look at her for more than five seconds to explain to her what that even means.
But Derek isn’t sure that he even knows what family means anymore.
He’s only ever known how to hurt those he’s meant to protect.
He can’t give her anything.
He doesn’t have anything left to give.
Never mind the affection a child like her deserves, he can’t even provide adequate shelter. Had Stiles and the Sherriff not taken her in, he’s not sure what he would’ve done with a six year old in an abandoned train station.
And god, did she deserve so much more than him. Because he knows, okay? He knows that she hasn’t done anything. She’s just an innocent child. But…
He can’t.
There are moments.
There are moments sometimes when Stiles makes him stay, makes him sit in the other room, that he catches the way she smiles at Stiles’ jokes. The way her grin is slightly crooked, the way her giggles bubble over until she’s clutching her stomach on the floor.
All he can think about is Laura.
There are these other moments.
There are these other moments when the Sherriff will tease her at the end of a long day of work. He’ll pick a silly argument and the way her nose is pointed at the ceiling, her chin raised high, so eager to prove herself right...so full of wit and charm.
She’s everything he remembers about his mother.
And god, she’s so stubborn sometimes. There are mornings when she won’t let Allison braid her hair, won’t let Isaac tell her she can’t run with him and Boyd, won’t let Lydia slip her into a dress…so stubborn. A trait that’s unarguably his father.
And when he gets the chance to look at her, I mean really look at her…like now, when she’s asleep in Stiles’ arms; he sees his family in every feature.
She’s made of all of these little parts of everyone that he loves and yet…
He can’t.
She may look more like a Hale than an Argent but those eyes…those eyes are all Kate.
There are pins pricking at his skin when those eyes make it so easy to remember what it’s like to be 16 and in love. And he did love Kate. He loved her with the ferocity anyone would their first love.
The mercy Kate must have shown to bring her into this world. Why hadn’t she killed her too?
He looks at his daughter and he wonders what it meant, why Kate would bring a child into the world when those naïve talks of the future had all been a ruse. Unless…unless….
This is when he hates himself.
He has to sit down on the edge of the couch just to keep himself from yelling out in the unfairness of it all. Leave it to Kate to torment him even in her death.
Katherine stirs in her sleep.
Derek makes a move to leave but he feels a hand pulling on the hem of his shirt.
When he turns, Stiles’ eyes are pleading.
There’s a long moment when Derek just wants to run.
But the way Stiles is looking at him...love feels different now. It’s not empty promises and blind trust. There’s no torment or regret when Stiles is looking at him like that. Like he’s the whole center of the universe and Stiles would rather die than hurt him.
Derek nods and Stiles lifts Katherine into his arms. Stiles follows him as they climb the stairs two steps at a time.
He drops her into her bed and tucks her in. Stiles' hand find his when the look back from they doorway and he feels like…
Like maybe he can.
Tomorrow he’ll make her breakfast.
He’ll commission blue prints and get started on rebuilding.
He’ll join Isaac and Boyd in her training and tell them they’re doing a piss poor job.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow he’ll sit down on the couch with her and Stiles and Spongebob until they all fall asleep together.
Because maybe, with Stiles’ hand in his, just maybe…
He can.