One Night (sterek mpreg)

sick

It's Tuesday now. I walk between Scott and Lydia down the halls.

"Hey, Stiles, do you know what that stomach bug was?" Asks Scott as he rummages through his locker. I shrug hopelessly.

"Nope. I've been sick everyday since." I sigh, "it's weird because I don't feel sick. Like right now, I'm fine." I tell him.

Lydia's eyes widen slightly.

"What, Lydia? What is it?" I ask her.

"Stiles, what time do you normally throw up?" She asks.

"What? I don't know. Like, between seven and nine AM...?" I shrug unknowingly.

"Stiles are you...?"

"No. Oh my God, no. That's ridiculous, Lydia. God." I dismiss her ideas immediately, but my thoughts don't.

What if...?

"Stiles, you and Derek did it." She states, and I sh her. She shrugs. "I think he's your mate, Stiles." She says simply. My eyes widen.

"Are you saying that I'm...?!"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." She says, folding her arms across her chest.

"That's bullshit. Come on, I am not his mate." I say, rolling my eyes.

I look to Scott, who hasn't said anything, and give him a death glare.

"What?! It might be true, man." He shrugs, looking at the floor. I grit my teeth.

"Fine. Take me Deaton, or whatever. If there is something, we can get it the hell out of me, okay?" I snap, trudging off in the other direction to my friends.

***

After school I drive Scott and I to the vets. It's shut, which means we can talk to Deaton.

"Dude, what if you are...?" Scott breathes as we march side by side round the back of the clinic.

"Scott, stop, okay? We don't know anything yet." I snap, rubbing my forehead frustratedly.

We knock on Deaton's door and he answers quickly, immediately ushering us inside.

"Boys, what brings you here?" He speaks in his low, calm voice.

Scott answers before I do. "I think Stiles is pregnant." He bursts out, and I internally face palm.

"No. Scott thinks I am." I correct him, glaring at Scott.

Deaton's eyes widen.

"Um... I've never dealt with this, boys. But I did have a friend who confirmed to me once the fact that if a wolf and his mate, well, mate, then one of the two can produce a child." Deaton explains, folding his arms.

"But Derek isn't my mate! He can't be." I sigh, flailing my arms around. Deaton raises an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?" He asks, and I don't move.

"Well, no..." I mumble, fiddling with my sleeves. "But surely Derek would know, right?" I look to Scott and Deaton next to me, who both shrug.

"It's very common for werewolves to be oblivious to knowing when someone is their mate." Deaton says, eyeballing me.

"Well, okay... What'd'ya wanna do?" I mumble, chewing the inside of my cheek.

"I'll give you a scan then we can find out exactly what's going on in there." He says, nodding toward my stomach, which- might I add- looks as flat as normal. I rest my hands on where my 'bump' would be and feel around. Nothing.

"Whatever you say, Doc." I mutter as I follow him and Scott through to the next room.

"Okay, Stiles, if you could just lie down on the bench and lift up your shirt for me," Deaton instructs as he pulls on some gloves. They snap against his skin as he slides them over his hands.

"This is ridiculous," I mutter as I roll my shirt up, revealing my faint set of abs and pale skin.

"Okay, Stiles. What you're going to experience will be a little cold." Deaton tells me, turning on a machine next to me and pulling out some blue jelly-like stuff.

He squeezes the jelly out on to my stomach, making me jump; it's freezing. Then he gets an object- which looks like a barcode scanner from the supermarket- and rubs it around my stomach. Suddenly an alien like noise sounds, and a picture flickers up on the screen next to me, showing nothing but fuzziness.

"See? Nothing." I say. "Can we go now?" I moan, looking at Scott, who's still staring at the screen.

"Hold on. Stiles, the picture, though unclear, still has potential to soon show some sort of image. If you are pregnant, it's still incredibly early. For now I'd like to refrain from doing any potentially dangerous or damaging physical activity- that includes lacrosse- and come and visit me next week. Perhaps take a pregnancy test." Suggests Deaton, and I can't help but laugh.

"Are you being serious? A pregnancy test? This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard." I roll my eyes and Scott glares at me.

"What? Come on, Scott, don't be such an ass." I laugh at him.

"Stiles, though I'm pretty sure it's just the hormones and stuff- you know, pregnancy mood swings, please, please, stop being such a freaking dick." Scott says to me, and I quieten down slightly.

"Sorry, I'm-" I mumble, but he cuts me off.

"It's fine." He says, half smiling.

***

On the way home Scott forces me to drive to the chemist to pick up a pregnancy test. I grab one off the shelf and walk over to the lady at the empty counter.

"Good evening." She smiles. I smile back quickly and hand her the box with the test inside.

"Ooh, this for your girlfriend?!" She asks excitedly, smirking at me. I fake laugh back at her, taking the box and heading out of the store. I wish.

***

"Scott, it's not coming out." I call to Scott outside the bathroom.

"Just try harder!" He complains.

"I am trying, dude! I'm telling you, there is no way I'm peeing on this stick. I'm telling you, my pee won't come out!" I yell back, holding the stick out in front of me and over the toilet.

"Maybe you just need more to drink." He suggests, and I scowl, grabbing a cup of water next to me and downing the entire thing.

I wait a couple of minutes. Now I need to pee.

"Okay, I'm doing it..." I yell awkwardly as I urinate over the pregnancy test.

When I'm finished I set it on the side and wait the said two minutes before the results. Then it beeps. I pick it up and stare at the tiny screen.

"Stiles, is it done? Remember, two lines means pregnant." He calls, but I don't respond.

I'm too gobsmacked to speak; I stare at the screen, wide eyed, for a good thirty seconds.

"Stiles, is everything okay in there? What'd it say?" Scott calls, knocking on the bathroom door. I blink at the screen again, unsure if this is real.

||

Pregnant.