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Blame the Deed, Not the Breed

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Stiles is mindlessly scrolling through Netflix while sprawled out on the couch with Luna, the two year old Pit Bull Terrier he and Derek adopted a few months ago. Her head is pressed against his chest and Stiles absentmindedly scratches his nails against the short brown fur behind her ear. She grumbles happily, relaxing and shifting more of her weight into him.

It had been Stiles’ idea to adopt a dog. Derek works long hours at the garage and at least twice a month, he’s out of town dealing with pack business, leaving Stiles most days and weekends alone in their empty house. Stiles had been thinking about wanting a dog for awhile, especially since he and Derek had been living together for nearly eight months now, but it took him a few more weeks and two Derek-less weekends for him to finally grow a pair and bring it up to Derek.

Derek had said yes immediately, making Stiles fears feel completely irrational, and bringing up that he was looking around for information on a No Kill Shelter a few towns over.

The next weekend Stiles and Derek ventured over, immediately falling in love with Luna. Stiles couldn’t decide if it was her big green eyes or her name that had drawn the two of them to her. All it took was Sue, the woman that ran the shelter, to tell them she was having a tough time selling Luna because of the reputation proceeding the breed of Pit Bulls before Stiles was asking when they could take her home with them.

A documentary with an image of a dark-haired Pit Bull displayed pulls Stiles out of his thoughts. He reads the name, Beyond the Myth, and continues onto the summary of the film. Stiles looks down to Luna; she’s already staring up at him with her round green eyes. He doesn’t understand the breed discrimination, especially when he looks down to his dog and sees nothing but love. He clicks play as he scrunches down a bit to press a kiss to her snout.

Luna laps a few times under his chin with her tongue. When she hears - and feels - Stiles’ delighted giggle, he can hear the thump of her tail against the couch as she wags it. Stiles presses a kiss to her nose and mumbles a low, “I love you, baby girl.” to her.


“Babe,” Derek’s panicked voice calls from the foyer. Stiles hears him hurriedly kick off his work boots and he’s kneeling besides Stiles and Luna on the couch, where Luna is lapping tears off of Stiles’ cheeks and whining out in distress. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“They were just taking their dogs from their houses, Derek!”

“What are you taking about?” Derek’s voice is calm and reassuring while Luna is whining and shoving her muzzle into Stiles’ neck in attempt to comfort him. Stiles wraps his arms around her, and starts crying harder. “Babe, please stop. What’s wrong?”

“In the documentary. I-in Denver, th-they were just taking people’s Pit Bulls out of their houses. Be-because they were saying they were dangerous. Der, look at my baby girl. I just. I can’t.” Stiles breaks off when Luna whines again. He takes a deep breath to get the rest out. “They banned Pit Bulls and after a certain date if they weren’t gone, they took them and they killed them. Der, they killed innocent Pit Bulls.”

“Shhh, babe.” Derek soothes, running his hand up and down Stiles’ arm while Luna tries to lap at his tears again.

“It’s horrible,” Stiles chokes out a sob, “Think about all the families that lost a member and kids wondering when they’re going to come back home, except they don’t because they’re either dead or shipped to a new family.”

Derek keeps rubbing his arm, trying to calm Stiles down with Luna. He takes the remote from Stiles, pausing and exiting the documentary and murmuring to Stiles that he’ll be right back. Stiles watches as he exits into the kitchen and snuggles Luna closer to his chest.

“Sorry, baby.” He mutters, pressing kisses to her snout and face to let her know that he’s okay. “No one’s ever going to take you from me, okay? I love you so much. You and Derek and Grandpa are my family. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you ever again.”

Derek makes his way back into the living room with a mug and Luna shifts her weight off of Stiles to let him sit up without struggling. Derek hands him the mug once he’s up, sitting on the couch next to him. Stiles greedily takes a few sips of the hot chocolate while Luna licks the side of Stiles’ face.

Once Stiles places the mug on the coffee table, Derek takes a hold of his chin and presses kisses all over his face. A giggle bubbles out of Stiles, and he can hear Luna’s tail thumping away.

Stiles can feel his vision swimming with tears again, because all he can think about is how Luna stayed tucked around Stiles, protecting and comforting him, instead of sitting at the door and greeting Derek like she does every day like clockwork. It makes him feel sick to his stomach, that people can mistake such a beautiful breed because of a misguided reputation.

Derek drags Stiles out of his thoughts by pulling Stiles into one last long, lingering kiss before he settles the both of them back into the couch.

“Better?” Derek asks, sliding his arm around Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him to press their sides together. Luna resettles on the couch with her head resting in Stiles’ lab as she happily licks the fingers of Derek’s other hand as a belated hello.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Stiles mumbles, turning himself into Derek and resting his head on Derek’s chest. “I just kept looking at my girl and all the photos we have framed of the three of us and I was thinking of someone taking her from us and I lost it.”

“It’s okay, babe, just no more animal documentaries without me, okay?”

“Okay.” Stiles lets out a content sigh, finally relaxing his tensed muscles and letting his fingers scratch at Luna’s neck. “So, you wanna watch Blackfish?”