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Bad Day

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That Friday was dragging on, and on, and on, then on some more. Stiles had never felt so close to the edge outside of supernatural dilemmas, like it was out of the norm to feel bad when there wasn't an evil creature forcing you to feel that way. This was a raw, humanly, horrible day and it was cutting into Stiles more than he remembered those days did.

Before everything big and bad came into their lives, Stiles had bad days. Everyone does. On Stiles' bad days he'd get inside of his own head, hate himself for his rambling words and thoughts, and he'd drive for hours until his dads fifth call demanded he be home. On those days, Stiles would cry himself to sleep, then wake up feeling a little better. Those days seem so easy now.

Now, his thoughts were more demonic and cynical, with a powerful edge that made peoples shadows shift. His thoughts weren't just spiraling anymore, they were screaming and clawing at his head, forcing heat into his eyes and sending the blood in his veins into a frenzy of boiling red. The pack had been looking at him funny all day, asking if he was okay and why he reeked of terror, but all he could manage was a shake of his head and a minuscule shrug of his shoulders.

School felt like it went on for more than six hours. His feet dragged everywhere he stepped, limbs lethargic and aching every time he moved. Harris clawed under his skin more than usual and Stiles let him. His sarcasm and wit was at such an all time low that he even let Jackson get away with making a snide comment about awkward family dinner with 'dad' and 'daddy'. Stiles was so out of it he didn't even roll his eyes. Stiles had never felt this purely awful before. His mind kept drifting and spiraling and screaming as he stared into space until someone was yelling in his ear and shaking him out of his trance. Isaac had offered to take him to the nurse but the offer made him feel... insecure and sick. Scott ultimately ended up pulling him to his moms car during lunch, shoving Stiles into the passenger seat and throwing his backpack somewhere in the back. Stiles couldn't even argue, and frankly, he just felt too tired to. So he let Scott drive him, not even asking where they were going.

Something clicked when they pulled into the parking garage of the lofts building. Stiles turned to Scott with tears filling his eyes, his bottom lip sticking out just slightly.

"Thank you Scotty" he said, sniffling softly.

"Oh my god, you're welcome sti, just go let Derek fix you and I'll call your dad" Scott said, looking at stiles with something like confusion mixed with fond annoyance. Stiles nodded, sniffling again as he got out of the car, leaving his backpack with Scott in favor of using the extra few second it would take to grab it in order to run to the elevator. He clicked the button at least six times until it opened, watching Scott drive away while it closed again. By the time the doors opened again, Stiles was faced with a large body of muscle and tan skin, multicolored eyes staring intently with concern, forehead wrinkled with a deep frown. Derek pulled stiles out of the elevator and started patting him down, checking for injuries as he rambled.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did something happen? Why aren't you in school? I don't smell blood" He looked Stiles in the eyes, his expression not relaxing in the slightest until stiles spoke.

"I'm okay, Der" with no jump in his heartbeat, Derek relaxed slightly. "I was just having a really bad day and I needed you, but I didn't know that I needed you so Scott brought me here cause apparently Scott knows more than I do" stiles shrugged , unsure of what he just said. Derek simply sighed, a tiny smile on his lips as he pulled Stiles under his arm so he could pull him into the loft.

"You want to get changed and I'll make you a bottle?" Derek asked, gently brushing Stiles' hair away from his forehead. Stiles sighed, his shoulders deflating as he leaned further into Derek's warmth.

"Don't let me go" he shook his head, his eyes fluttering.

"I won't baby, let's get your bottle ready, yeah? Come 'ere, little prince" Derek pressed his fingers into the sleeves of Stiles' jacket and pushed it off of his shoulders, draping it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Without the weight of the material, stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders, kicking his shoes off before wrapping his legs around the mans waist. Derek wrapped one arm under Stiles' bum to hold him up while he opened up one of the cabinets and pulled out Stiles favorite bottle with Winnie the Pooh on the front. Derek expertly poured milk into the cup with one hand and placed it in the microwave.

"Let's get you changed, yeah?" Derek spoke softly, gently patting Stiles' bum as he carried him to the bedroom. Derek set Stiles down on the bed, soothingly shushing him when the smaller boy whined and reached for him.

"Do you need a Pull Up today, baby?" Derek asked, already opening the bottom drawer of his dresser, where all of Stiles' baby things are.

"Yes please" Stiles whispered, barely loud enough for Derek to catch. Derek silently grabbed one of the Mickey Mouse diapers from the drawer, also retrieving a soft pair of baby blue footsies and a lime green pacifier that had a fox on the guard. Derek slipped Stiles' shirt off with little help from the boy, his limbs all weak and barely cooperating, but the wolf didn't mind. He simply maneuvered Stiles enough to get him out of his jeans and socks. Stiles covered his face when Derek peeled off his boxers, replacing them with the clean, fresh diaper, the footsies going over them. Once stiles was completely changed, his pacifier bobbing against his lips, he felt ten times better than he had since he woke up that morning.

His mind was solely focused on Derek's warm scent and the feeling of the soft pajamas against his skin. Stiles held tight when Derek picked him up again, carrying him back out to the kitchen to grab his bottle then back into the room.

"Sit down for me baby" Derek whispered. Stiles slowly slipped his arms from around Derek and sunk onto the bed, looking up at Derek with round, slightly watery eyes. His body had drastically relaxed since being at school, his mind simmering down as Derek laid beside him, gesturing for him to join. Stiles crawled over to the man and stretched himself out on Derek's side, plastering himself completely against the wolf, his left hand clenching around the mans tee shirt as his other hand held his bottle to his lips.

"Maybe we should order from that Italian place you love. We can get extra curly fries and I'll even let you get a coke" Derek spoke softly, his fingers trailing up and down Stiles' fuzzy back. Stiles nodded in agreement, his lips still working over the nipple of his bottle with his eyes wide and trained up at Derek and his fingers running over the coarse hair of Derek's beard.

Derek watched stiles gulp down the bottle, his eyes shifting and wandering around the room, unfocused and slightly glazed by the time he finished his milk. When it was gone, he tossed it onto the other side of the bed, grunting softly as he pushed his head into Derek's side, nosing against the fabric.

"You feelin' better baby?" Derek asked, bringing his hand up to run a finger against Stiles' cheek. Stiles' eyes widened and his head turned towards the touch, his hands flying up to catch Derek's hand. He brought Derek's hand up and latched his lips around one of Derek's fingers, gently gnawing on it with little huffs and grunts. "I'll take that as a 'yes' then" Derek chuckled, allowing stiles to rub his teeth against his fingers.