this life I choose

[malia]

He hops up from the bed and away from her before she even has a chance to try to stop him. She can’t really see the wound that Ava’s claws inflicted, but it’s bad enough that she could see the blood, and bad enough for him to dart off the bed and immediately to the first aid kit that he’d gotten ready for the night…just for a scenario like this. If he was closer, she could take some of his pain, but right now all she can handle is the little frantic pup in her arms. She’d noticed the hint of scolding in his voice. It was her responsibility to anchor the baby. She was the only one who could. But she doesn’t feel like she’s doing a very good job of that at the moment.

She lets instinct take over again, pushing the thoughts of insecurity from her mind. Her own heart is racing, her own body still struggling to fight against the pull of the full moon. She lifts Ava up again, her little eyes wild as he tail wags. It’s not a tail wag of excitement, more of anxious fear. If there’s one thing Malia knows better than anything in the world, it’s the body language of a coyote. She flashes her blue eyes at Ava, once again trying to will some of her own control into the baby. And then she pulls her close to her heart, holding her there tightly as she presses her lips to her head. She speaks softly, comfortingly, even though she knows that Ava can’t understand a word shes saying. It doesn’t seem to matter though. The baby responds to her voice in the same way that she responds to her heartbeat, to her eyes, to her presence. And just like that, within a moment, all of the fur is gone, the tail is gone, the claws are gone…and she’s just a little naked baby again.

Malia reaches for the blanket that Stiles had shoved back in her direction, immediately wrapping the baby up as tightly as she can in such a rushed fashion. She pulls Ava close, pressing her lips to her hair and closing her eyes. “I’m so sorry baby,” She says softly. Every time this happens, that feeling of guilt seems to creep closer and closer to the surface, her heart aching for this curse she’s passed on to their child. A child who is way too small and way too vulnerable to even begin to understand what’s happening to her.

Stiles distracts her as he moves back to the bed. The blood is already soaking through the gauze that he’s pressed against his chest and she can’t pull her eyes away from it. “I’m fine,” she tells him quickly. She didn’t even remember that the baby had nipped her shoulder, not until he mentions it. It’s not healing quite as quickly as the first wound had, but she knows that it will eventually. She reaches her hand out, pulling the gauze away from his skin. “I should call Scott,” she says, trying to hide her worry. The gashes are deep and still bleeding and she can feel some of that pain as she lets her fingers brush against the skin around it. “You might need some stitches.”

[stiles]

Stiles’s chest burns in a way that isn’t unfamiliar, but would be worrisome if he thought too long and hard about it. But he doesn’t have that option as he surveys Malia’s body, checking her over for any other injuries. The bite on her shoulder didn’t break the skin, and her hands are covered in scratches, but none are very deep. Nowhere near as deep as the marks on his own chest. He winces as he looks down to see the gauze is soaked in blood. Yeah, these marks are pretty deep.

It doesn’t stop him from grimacing at Malia’s suggestion. It makes sense to call Scott, way more sense than it does to go into an emergency room and try to explain away this injury. But a silly part of Stiles had wanted to brave it through this night just the two of them. Maybe to prove to himself that they could handle parenthood when it looked like this. But maybe they can’t.

Malia’s fingers just barely graze his skin when she pulls away the gauze, and he feels that familiar tingle, the telltale sign she’s about to leech his pain. But Stiles opens his mouth to tell her not to, and the feeling disappears. “I’ll text Scott,” he says, standing back up from the bed. “You just calm her down.” The baby is shaking like a leaf in Malia’s arms again, whimpering every so often, and Stiles knows she needs Malia in that moment. Malia nods, looking worn as she wraps her arms a little more tightly around the baby and kisses the top of her head. It’s enough to make him pause and consider sitting back down with her to check in with her, but he knows that if he does, she’ll only insist on calling Scott again.

He pats down his pockets in search of his phone, only to find them empty. His search takes him back to the kitchen where he finds it on the counter. Can you stop by? he texts. Think I need stitches. While he’s in the kitchen, Stiles thinks to grab a glass of water and another coffee for Malia, and by the time he’s finished, Scott has sent a very efficient OMW in response. At least this part is easy.

The bedroom is quiet when he returns, and it’s unsettling at first. His eyes dart over to the bed only to find that Ava, having worn herself out, is fast asleep in Malia’s arms. A small part of him hopes this might last, but a more realistic part of him feels certain her shifting will wake her up the next time it happens. But for now, at least, she looks peaceful. “Scott’s on his way,” he says softly as he moves back to the bed, sitting back down on her side of it so that he’s facing her. She looks tired and small, the baby cradled against her chest. Older than she had this morning with a kind of worry in her eyes that he’s not used to seeing on her face. “How are you really?” he asks, his voice just above a whisper. “Are you okay?”

[malia]

All she can do is not when he tells her that he’ll take care of contacting Scott. He’s right, their baby needs her. Ava needs her. And she wishes that something her supernatural powers would let her be two people at once, or in two places at once, but that isn’t even something she can do. So she watches him get up, leaving her and Ava alone in the quiet room. The soft music is still playing and the lights are dim and Ava cries, but the cries are different this time. She’s tired. Malia can feel as much as she can hear it. She looks down at the tiny baby in her arms, her cheeks red, streaked with the wet marks of real tears that she’s cried. “Oh my love,” She says softly, pulling her close and leaning down so she can press kiss after kiss along her cheeks and her hair. “I’m sorry.”

She feels like she wants to cry. She can hear Stiles in the other room, rummaging around for his phone and finally growing quiet as he texts Scott. She’s been less emotional since her period ended finally, but this is pushing her to the brink again. She’s tired and guilty and sad for her daughter. And now Stiles is hurt because of this thing that she’s inflicted upon their baby.

And she just feels like it’s all her fault. Nobody deserved to be born into this kind of life. Her parents had been selfish and awful, she knows that now, so of course they wouldn’t have thought about how being this way would affect her. But she should know better. She likes to think she’s a little more human than either of them. But maybe she’s wrong.

She gently bounces Ava in her arms, rooting around until she finds the discarded pacifier and sticking it in her mouth. She takes it easily, her eyelids already growing heavy as she begins to suck greedily. She doesn’t cry for nearly as long as she had the last couple of times this has happened. Malia makes sure she’s wrapped snuggly in her blanket and she leans back against the headboard with a sigh. And that’s where Stiles finds them when he returns, Ava having almost immediately passed out in her arms once she calmed down a little bit. She sighs when he asks his question, his voice quiet as he presses his hand against the gauze on his chest. She hopes that this means that Scott is on his way since he doesn’t mention anything about it.

She considers her words carefully before she says them, biting her bottom lip as she holds this tiny baby close to her. The best thing she’d ever done. The thing she loves more than life itself. Their baby. And she thinks about how all of this is torturing her again as she speaks. “I don’t know if I should have any more babies. This isn’t fair to her or to you.”

[stiles]

It feels like a punch to the gut when Malia responds to his question. His mind reels as her words sink in, leaving him nauseous. Hadn’t it just been a few weeks ago when he stood with her in the kitchen, listening to him tell her she wanted a whole litter of their own? Since that night, he had dreamed about that litter. About another tiny baby with her big brown eyes and his dark hair. About a house filled with the noise of tiny feet and laughter and so much love, he thought he might die from the weight of all of it. About her belly swelling with another tiny life, one they created together purposely the next time out of the love they shared for one another. It was the future he wanted with her.

But aside from his devastation in the moment, there’s the heavy realization of the toll this is taking on her. He knew that this was hard for her, but he had thought about the emotional toll he felt coupled with the physical task of staying human while also acting as an anchor. He hadn’t imagined her guilt. But now, it’s clear in the way she worries her lips, and in those worried lines on her face, and in the sadness in her gaze when she looks back down to the sleeping baby in her arms. It feels like it’s consuming her in that moment, and he feels just as helpless as he had that first time he had witnessed Ava’s shift.

“Don’t worry about me,” he tells her automatically. It feels like the easiest place to start and the most urgent thing he wants her to hear. Malia shoots him a pointed look, meeting his stare before looking down at the second piece of gauze he’s slowly but surely bleeding through. “I’m fine,” he insists. “I’m not the first one who’s needed stitches because of Ava.”

She purses her lips, her expression angry in that moment. He can feel her retort before she even says it, every part of her ready to argue that it’s different. But he opens his mouth again before she has the chance. “It’s no less fair to you than it is to me.” He reaches for her then, cupping her cheek in his hand as he brushes his thumb across her cheekbone. “You didn’t do this to Ava. I mean, you passed your genes along, but I did, too. And who knows what she got from me? And I think this will get easier. It did for you, right?”

But there was trauma first, he knows. And it seems to be reflected in her sad gaze as she stares back at him. There was a lot of trauma before it got easier for her. It took years. Years that feel draining when he just thinks about now. Stiles sighs, bringing his other hand to rest on her thigh. “This feels like a conversation we shouldn’t have right now.”

[malia]

His touch feels comforting, even though she can tell he doesn’t really know how to react to what she’s just said. Maybe there was a part of her that hopes he’d immediately argue, tell her that it was okay. They were going to figure it out. They hadn’t had much time yet. That he still wanted what they’d been talking about…the family, the babies, the life. But instead, she can tell he feels uncomfortable, and she wonders if maybe he agrees and he’s just too concerned for her to say it in the moment. She closes her eyes as she feels his finger trace the lines of her cheek before he moves his hands to her thigh. Maybe he was right. She was exhausted, he was hurt, and the baby was undoubtedly going to shift again at any given moment. This probably wasn’t the best time to talk about this.

So she nods, pulling her gaze away from his and dropping her eyes back to the baby in her arms. She smiles sadly. She looked so peaceful now, her little cheeks rosy and flushed in her sleep. Her little lips make a sucking motion in her sleep and Malia lifts her hand to smooth that unruly dark hair, softer than silk, down against there head. Her hair was just like his. She was this perfect little blend of both of them. And god, she loved her so much it physically aches in her chest to take this little creature in. The baby that they’d created, who also had the ability to turn into a little animal that they didn’t know how to help.

She thinks for a moment, an idea dawning on her. “Maybe,” She says with a start, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “If I shift when she does, it’ll make it easier for her?” If she was a coyote, if mama was a coyote, maybe she could figure out better how to help Ava understand being a coyote? She didn’t know, but wasn’t it worth a try? She watches as the color drains from his face, as if the very idea of it terrifies him. And almost as if he’s planned it, he’s saved by the bell. Or the knock at least.

She turns toward the door of the bedroom when she hears Scott’s voice call down the hallway. Ava stirs in her arms, as if she recognizes that her Alpha is so close. And Stiles, relief on his face, climbs off the bed and goes to find Scott before he has a chance to accidentally wake up the baby. At least she knew he was going to get taken care of so she didn’t have to worry about the blood that was still threatening to seep through the gauze. She watches him go and shifts Ava in her arms, pulling her closer so she can press a kiss to her forehead as she sleeps and she closes her own eyes…just for a moment.

[stiles]

His brain is still stuck on the last thing she said. Maybe he's being selfish, to watch her struggle with this part of herself and only be able to think about how much he wants to grow their family together. But it feels like a loss of something tangible to hear her say that maybe they shouldn't have another baby. Part of him wants to hash this out now, to make her stop and really think about what she's saying and the weight that carries. Part of him wants her to realize her mistake now. But there's also a peace she seems to have found with the baby, even just for now, and he can't find it in himself to shatter that.

When Malia does lift her head and speak again, Stiles immediately wishes she hadn't. The color drains from his face as he stares back at her, again waiting for her to realize her mistake. But instead she nods as if to herself before dipping her head to kiss Ava's head again. It's surely the worst idea either of them have floated tonight. Malia's own control is weak tonight, he can sense it even without any supernatural abilities. And if she shifts and loses control, and Ava isn't soothed by the sight of another coyote, he's the only resource she has. Before he can voice this very real concern though, Scott calls from down the hall, having let himself in.

And Stiles has never been more grateful for an interruption.

"I'll be back," he promises before pressing a kiss to Malia's temple, and then Stiles is up and moving towards the sound of Scott's voice. His best friend's eyes widen when he sees him, and it's only then that Stiles realizes he must look at least a fraction as bad as he feels. "She's shifted twice," he sighs before Scott can ask and pulls the gauze away from his chest. "This was a souvenir from the second."

Scott sucks in a breath as he peers at the claw marks. "She got you good." He presses his hand against a spot just beside the marks, and Stiles winces at the pressure.

"You know I'm engaged, right?"

Scott's expression tells Stiles he's not amused. "I was checking how deep it was," he responds, deadpan. "You're not going to turn."

Stiles doesn't realize that was a genuine worry until he feels the wave of relief that accompanies Scott's words. The alpha works quickly, stitching up the claw marks and taping clean gauze over the top. He asks questions as he works, and Stiles answers each one, feeling more drained by the night with each detail he shares. But it seems to have the opposite effect on Scott: his intrigue seems to grow with each moment Stiles relives. When he finally finishes and Stiles gets up from the stool at the kitchen counter, Scott keeps watching him, a soft smile on his lips. "You two are really good at this, you know."

Stiles scoffs. "We have no idea what the fuck we're doing," he says, running a hand through his hair. "We just -"

He's cut off by the sound of a whimper down the hall. One that starts as the cry of a small baby and then morphs into the yip of a puppy. "Shit," he curses, immediately taking off in the direction of the bedroom.

Stiles knows Scott is following him, but he ignores it as he jogs back to the bedroom. He arrives at the threshold just in time to see Ava, tiny, tiny Ava on the floor. There's a dark mark on the carpet below her, a sign that she must have wet herself in her panic or her fear or both. But Stiles's eyes take note of her and then are immediately drawn to the coyote in front of her, blue eyes bright as Malia tries to calm her.

[malia]

He’s gone before she has a chance to say anything, not that she would have tried to stop him. She knows that he needs to get the wounds on his chest stitched up. He doesn’t heal like she does and if he doesn’t get them tended to, there’s a chance that the bleeding won’t stop, and then infection could set in, and she doesn’t like to think about that. So she watches him go, listening as he talks to Scott down the hallway. The house isn’t that big, but even if it was, her hearing makes it impossible for them to have a conversation inside that she can’t hear. But she doesn’t want to eavesdrop on them, not really. So she focuses her attention back on her sweet, tiny, very human looking daughter. She strokes her cheek with the back of her fingers, a heaviness on her heart. She looked so peaceful while she was sleeping just like she is now, but Malia knows it’s not going to last.

“Oh Ava,” She says quietly. “I wish I know how to help you understand this.” But she doesn’t know how. She doesn’t even really know if she understands it herself. A lot of it still doesn’t make sense to her, even now…when she’s so much better at controlling it and she’s part of a pack that she loves and has an Alpha that would do anything for her. There’s just still so much uncertainty surrounding the whole thing. And how do you make a baby understand something when they can’t even understand what you’re trying to tell them at all? All questions that she doesn’t have any answers to even as she listens to the soft murmur of the voices of the two men that she loves more than any others down the hall.

Ava starts in her sleep and Malia is immediately on guard. And it’s as if that one jolt is all it takes to throw her back into another shift. Her body shakes, and she stiffens as her eyes open wide and she cries. And then all of the sudden she’s a pup again, yipping like the tiny canine that she is. Malia holds her tightly, her instincts to try another method of soothing the baby kicking in. She quickly stands up, setting Ava down on the floor and closing her eyes as she shifts right there in front of her daughter. She shakes herself out, finishing with her tail, and she looks at her daughter in front of her. Everything is different as a coyote, but her thoughts are still there, and her instinct is still there. Ava looks at her, laying there on the floor beside in front of her and she growls as Stiles and Scott run into the room, as if she’d forgotten they were even there in the house. She moves to Ava, sniffing her and laying down beside her.

She can sense her baby’s panic and she whines in coyote to her, trying to comfort her as she begins to lick her gently, bathing her fur in the soothing feel of her mother’s love. And Ava does seem to calm down for a moment, but it doesn’t last. She growls, scrambling her little legs and struggling to get away from her but she’s not good on her feet and she looses her balance, falling back onto her side. Malia looks up at Stiles, but he looks at her almost like he doesn’t even know her. It’s not working, not the way she thought that it might. And as hard as it is, tonight of all nights…the night of the full moon, she focuses all of her energy on shifting back until she’s just Malia again. Naked and on her knees, but definitely the mother that Ava recognizes. She picks the pup up, holding her close and pressing her forehead against the babies head. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “Let me help you Ava.”

She doesn’t understand, there’s no way she could, but she must feel something because as Malia opens her eyes again, the baby has already shifted back to…well, a baby. She’s naked and crying in Malia’s arms, but she’s all human and all her daughter. “Good girl,” She says softly, peppering her cheeks with soft kisses. “It’s okay.”

[stiles]

Stiles desperately wants this to work. He wants anything to work at this point so he doesn’t have to watch Malia and Ava suffer through this together the rest of the night. Hell, he’s content to share his bed with two coyotes tonight, curled up like dogs beside him if it means that Ava isn’t scared or in pain, and Malia isn’t reeling in her guilt. He just wants to find a solution for his family, no matter what that looks like.

There’s the added pressure now, too, of knowing their future hangs in the balance. Which probably sounds overly dramatic, but it’s still the way he feels that night. That house full of kids he’s just barely started to imagine with her now feels just outside his grasp. A dream they can’t have now, not if every full moon is destined to feel like this.

So Stiles holds his breath as he watches Malia. The tiny pup whines, that same fear-filled sound he’s now used to, and Malia flashes her eyes in response. It’s different from the way she threatens with that blue gaze, and from the way she’ll flash her eyes when they’re alone together, tangled up in one another. There’s something softer and warmer in her gaze as she moves closer to the baby. And then, as Stiles watches, she leans down to lick the baby, trying to offer her any sense of comfort.

It’s a bizarre moment to witness, trying to equate these two animals with his fiancee and his daughter. He’s always known this side of Malia, but to see her behave like this, knowing just what to do with her… young? Pup? It’s something else entirely. But it’s equally as bizarre when Ava gets scared again, tumbling onto her side, and every part of Stiles screams at him to scoop her up and try to sooth her. It’s enough of a pull for him to start to reach towards them, but those brand new stitches in his chest pull, and it’s a sharp reminder that he might scare her more than sooth her and end up with a worse wound. Luckily, Malia chooses that moment to shift back, and in no time at all, Ava is a wailing baby again her arms, naked and trembling, and they’re right back where they started.

Stiles quickly grabs the baby blanket from the bed before dropping to the floor beside them. “Here,” he says as he wraps the blanket around Ava again while Malia keeps her pressed close to her chest. Malia’s forehead is bent, resting against the baby’s, like she wants to pull her back inside of her where she can keep her safe. Stiles forgets all about Scott until the alpha clears his throat. “So it’s like that every time?”

Stiles nods, running a hand through her hair. “She shifts, and then she panics, and then she’s upset once she shifts back.” His hand moves to Malia’s arm, rubbing it gently as she continues to focus all of her attention on the baby. “I’m gonna grab a bottle. We should try to get her to eat something before it happens again.”

[malia]

Malia had almost forgotten that Scott was there too. She sits there, more vulnerable than she has been in front of him in a long time, but she’s so much more concerned for Ava in that moment that it really doesn’t even register to her. She nods in response to her Alpha as Stiles speaks, explaining it in a way that’s much better than anything she would ever be able to come up with. He’s always been so much better at words than she will ever be. He’s by her side before she even realizes he’s moved, his hand warm as it rests there against her arm. And she hadn’t realized how much she relied on that physical comfort from him. Just that touch immediately calms her down, even as her body still shakes slightly as she tries to stay in control now that she’s let her coyote come through on the full moon.

She nods, watching as he stands up and turns to walk out of the room. She made sure to get a look at the wound on his chest, now bandaged in the professional way that Scott would do it. She knows that he’s taken care of. She looks at her Alpha, offering him a half assed attempt at a smile. “Thank you,” She says. She had been worried about Stiles and knowing that Scott was there in a matter of minutes to stitch him up takes some of that worry off of her mind. Scott nods, hesitating as if he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t before he turns and follows Stiles out of the room. She sighs when they’re both gone, lifting the crying baby in her arms up to her shoulder so she can rock her slightly, patting her backside as she tries to calm her down. “Shhhh,” She says softly, turning to press a kiss to her head. “It’s okay now my love. Mama’s got you.”

As if she can understand her, even though she knows she can’t, Ava does begin to calm down. Her sobs slowly turning into hiccups and then just an occasional whimper as Malia stands up and moves to the chair in the corner of the room. The lights are still dim and the music is soft and all of the sudden she feels more exhausted than she thinks she’s ever felt in her entire life. She closes her eyes and rests them against the back of the chair until she hears Stiles come back into the room. She takes the bottle he offers her, moving Ava to cradle her against her chest as she offers her the bottle. Unlike she used to, she doesn’t hesitate to take the nipple, her small hand coming up to rest on the side of the bottle as she begins to eat greedily.

She watches as Stiles moves to sit on the edge of the bed, watching them as he does. “Did Scott leave?” She asks him, even though she knows that he has because she heard the door open and close, followed by the sound of his car starting and pulling away from the house. She secretly hopes they don’t need him again, but even though the night has felt like 7 days, it’s only just begun.

[stiles]

The bottle is a good excuse for Stiles to move, even when every part of him fights to stay in that room with his girls. It feels like it should get easier each time the baby shifts. Logically, that makes sense. But with each shift, both Malia and Ava seem more depleted of energy in the aftermath. Now, Stiles knows to anticipate her inconsolable sobs when she shifts back. He knows what fear looks like in that tiny, trembling coyote form. And each time, it leaves him feeling a little more nauseous instead of feeling like they’ve made it a step closer to the end.

He senses Scott following him, but his oldest friend is quiet until they’re back in the kitchen, the hum of the bottle warmer the only sound. “We’ll have a whole month to come up with a solution,” Scott offers then. His expression is thoughtful, like his mind is back in the bedroom, watching Ava scramble on paws she wasn’t accustomed to. “We’ll keep trying to find a way to make this easier for her. Ava just…” Scott blows out a breath in a way that catches Stiles’s attention. He looks up from the counter to find Scott running a hand through his hair, his eyes wide. “She has alot of power.”

Stiles’s stomach turns in response. “ You can sense that?

Scott nods. “ A shift like that can take years to learn. And she’s doing it like it’s nothing.”

She was doing it without meaning to, Stiles wants to point out, but he feels like if he opens his mouth, he might actually puke. This is all so foreign to him, and now, their baby seems to possess more power than any other member in the pack had at her age. And he doesn’t know what to do with that. It must show on his face because Scott is quick to come around the counter, squeezing his shoulder as he says again that they can figure this out. That if anyone can solve this problem, it’s probably Stiles. But Stiles feels far less certain, even as he reassures Scott that they’re fine when the alpha offers to stay and walks him to the door.

His mind is still spinning when he makes it back to their room. Malia has settled into the chair, still naked, with the baby in her arms. Stiles offers her the bottle before finding his discarded shirt on the floor and pulling it back on before he settles on the bed. Ava is fully an infant again, taking her bottle greedily and seeming so human, it’s hard to even imagine her as the tiny dog she had been just a few moments ago. He nods at Malia’s question, finally pulling his eyes away from the baby. “He said to call again if we need anything,” he says as his eyes drift to the baby again. “And she didn’t get claw me deep enough to turn me.”

Malia seems to relax in return the same way he had when Scott told him. It’s quiet then, save for the music, and his mind lands back on Scott’s statement. Ava’s power was enough to take the true alpha’s breath away at just three months old. Yet, her eyes are drifting shut as she takes her bottle, completely unaware of the gift or burden she’s been given. Stiles opens his mouth to tell Malia. He needs to tell her. He needs that weight off of his chest so that they can share it equally, easing his tired mind. But when he lifts his gaze, her head is tipped back, her eyes closed. And he can’t find it in himself to burden her with it now. “You should lay down,” he says softly, aware of the way Ava’s breathing has evened in sleep. “Get some sleep before she shifts again.”

[malia]

She realizes that she hadn’t even thought about the fact that Ava’s injury could have actually caused a change in Stiles, but she’s relieved when he mentions that Scott has assured him that it wasn’t deep enough to do that. Just another thing to worry about that she hadn’t considered. Not that she would mind if Stiles turned. She would worry about him less, knowing he could heal and that he would be as strong as any other werewolf, but she knows that’s not something he wants. She knows how devastating it would be to him. So knowing that he’s okay, that’s he’s just still 100 percent human is a relief she didn’t realize she needed. She nods, resting her head back against the soft pillow resting on the back of the rocking chair they’d gotten for their room. She can’t help but closer her eyes, true exhaustion really settling in. She hadn’t realized how hard it would be to try and keep not only Ava, but herself, in control. Even when she wasn’t actively thinking about it, she was fighting her body to ignore the instinct of shifting during the full moon…something she’d always struggled with anyways.

Her eyes are closed, but she still listens to everything. The sound of Ava drinking, then stopping, then starting again and then finally falling asleep. The sound of Stiles regular breathing. The sound of soft rain as it begins to fall against the roof of the house and the soft music that still fills the room from the speaker on the dresser. She lazily opens her eyes when he speaks again, and for once, instead of fighting him she nods. She wasn’t sure she could keep going for the rest of the night if she didn’t try to rest. But, she’s not sure he can either. She pulls the bottle from Ava’s tiny lips, lifting the baby to her shoulder and patting her back gently. She doesn’t wake up, but she does offer a little burp eventually. “Maybe we should all try to rest while we have the chance,” she offers in response, standing up so she can rest Ava in her little bassinet, pulling it as close as she possibly can to her side of the bed.

She can immediately tell he’s not a fan of the idea, but he’s already been injured, it was getting really late, and he had to be at least somewhat as tired as she was…even after all the coffee they’d had. “Please,” She says, moving to his side and draping her arms over his shoulders as he looks up at her. She moves a hand to his cheek, smoothing the lines of exhaustion that surround his eye with the pad of her thumb. “I’ll fall asleep easier if you just lay down with me.” She leans down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and he finally, begrudgingly agrees. She climbs into bed, not even bothering to pull the covers up over her body as she waits for him to do the same. He finally does and she curls up against his side, careful not to brush over his freshly bandaged wounds, but resting her hand close enough that she can take a little bit of the pain while she pulls him as close as she can. She doesn’t even remember if he says anything before she drifts off into a fitful sleep surrounded by the warmth of his body.

[stiles]

Stiles feels like exhaustion radiates from Malia in that moment. She blinks slowly, like she’s checking to make sure he’s really sitting across from her, and then she nods without argument, which might be the most shocking part of all. She’s quiet as she stands up from the chair, bringing the baby to her shoulder. A moment later, Ava lets out the tiniest burp, and it feels surreal. Within the hour, she’ll probably be back in her tiny coyote form. She might have more power than Scott. And yet, she’s an infant. Before he can stop himself, he snorts at the impossibility of it all. Luckily, Malia doesn’t seem to notice as she settles the baby in her bassinet, lingering to press a kiss to her tiny face before covering her with her blanket once again.

He’s ready to stay right there, watching over both of them while they sleep, but Malia turns to him with that pleading gaze. Her arm is warm as she wraps it around his neck, seeming to stare straight into his soul as she asks him to join her, then argues that she’ll sleep better if he lays down, too. “Okay,” he agrees, leaning up to press a kiss to her lips before he stands up from the bed. Malia is still naked after her latest shift, and she lays down without bothering with the covers. Stiles takes off his sweatpants and then reaches for his shirt, but thinks better of it when his stitches pull and keeps his shirt on. And then he’s there beside her, settling into their bed.

It feels good. In fact, his own exhaustion seems to hit him like a Mack truck the second he’s laying down. Malia rolls towards him, curling against his side as his own arm wraps around her waist. She’s warm and soft, and Stiles lets his eyes close for just a moment, savoring the feeling. In a minute, he’ll open them again. In a minute, he’ll go back to watching Ava, awake and aware in case she needs them again. In a minute…

But it’s an indeterminate number of minutes that passes. He has no idea how long it’s been since they laid down when they wake to Ava’s panicked yip. He just knows that they both snap awake and sit up so quickly, Malia elbows him hard in the side in her rush to get to the baby. She’s tangled in her blanket, unable to stand in the bassinet, and it takes Malia a longer time to sooth her before she’s calm enough to shift back. Both girls are shaking by the time Ava is back in her human form.

Sleep comes sporadically after that as all three of them grow more drained. But it shows the most in Malia. It’s the time after that shift that Malia seems to struggle the most with her. Now, Ava is headed for her third since Scott left. They’re still on the bed. Stiles’s back is against the headboard, Malia sitting between his legs while she holds the baby, now turned pup, in her arms. His hands rub her arms, trying to keep her grounded, to keep her anchored in him long enough to help anchor Ava. “I’m right here,” he tells her for what feels like the millionth time, leaning forward to talk directly into her ear. “You’re okay. You just have to stay like this long enough to help Ava.”

[malia]

The hours pass slowly, like days…or even weeks maybe. The only time that seems to pass remotely quickly is the time when they get a chance to sleep, and those moments come far and few between and don’t seem to last nearly long enough. It’s hard for her, knowing that her body is having a hard time keeping up with this. She hadn’t thought about how hard it would be controlling her own shift while trying to help Ava control hers, and it’s exhausting her more than she would ever admit. Her body feels weak and dehydrated and confused. But Stiles never leaves her side, never leaves Ava’s side, and she loves him so much she wouldn’t even begin to know how to put it into words.

He anchors her, and that’s the only way she’s able to anchor the baby. It makes her realize just how very much they need each other. All three of them. Or at least, how much they need him…her and Ava. There’s a good chance he might be thinking he’d be in a lot better shape without them based on the yawn she hears behind her as he holds her there in between his legs.

Ava has just shifted again and Malia holds the little pup close to her chest. She struggles less now, when she’s in this shifted form, almost as if her body is getting used to the way it feels to be a little coyote with four legs instead of two. But she’s still agitated and she whimpers her little pup cries as her tail wags in her fear and her uncertainty. Malia makes sure to hold her close to her heart, so she can feel it and hear it, talking to her softly as she does. She closes her eyes, willing her body to stay in control as the desire to shift causes her to shiver there against his chest. But as soon as he realizes that, she feels his worm breath against her ear, his words reminding her that he’s right there with her. That he’s there to help her stay in control. And it does help. She just has to make it through this shift with Ava.

She lifts Ava so she can look her in the eyes, flashing them bright blue at her baby. It makes Ava’s fur seem more golden brown, all of the colors more beautiful than they were before. She has her coyote scent memorized now, though it’s not much different than her human scent. There are always still just pieces of that scent that are Ava, no matter what form she’s in. She pulls her closer again, resting her against her shoulder and pressing her lips to the side of her head. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “Mama’s still got you.” She doesn’t know why she talks, she knows Ava can’t understand her. But the sound of her voice and the flash of her eyes must do something, because in just a minute she’s shifted back to the baby that was hiding inside. Malia sighs, her own body shaking again. She pulls away from Stiles, handing the baby to him as her eyes flash blue again. She hands Ava off just in time for claws to make an appearance. She climbs off the bed, pacing, her canines pressing into her lips as she tries to breathe. The longer the night drags on, the harder it is to stay in control herself.

[stiles]

Ava will be an only child.

Of that much, Stiles is absolutely certain as Malia tries to anchor her for what feels like the twentieth time. Her body convulses against his own, like it’s taking every part of her to stay human just long enough to coax the baby out of her shift. Ava, on the other hand, is a tiny pup again, trembling in her mother’s hands when Malia lifts her up. His heart breaks at the sight of her shaking form, her small tail wagging furiously as she throws her head back and yips. He regrets sending Scott away earlier. He regrets not asking Malia again if she wasn’t sure giving Ava enough benadryl to last the night might be their best option. He regrets telling Liam to get fucked when he suggested giving Ava just a tiny dose of wolfsbane. Okay, maybe he doesn’t regret that last one, but he regrets not having a better answer for his family before tonight.

His grip tightens on Malia’s arm when her voice becomes slightly husky. He can picture her canines beginning to pop through her gums as her features become more angular. There’s a good chance she’ll frighten the baby more than she’ll calm her, and he’s just about to pull the baby free from her grasp when Ava manages to shift back. “Oh thank god,” he breathes, resting his forehead on the back of Malia’s head. In the aftermath, he’s consumed by his exhaustion, so heavy it’s hard to think straight. But Malia twists in his arms, forcing him to rear back. She shoves the baby into his arms before she scampers off the bed, leaving him alone there.

Stiles immediately jumps off the bed, too, before he even realizes what’s happening. But then it’s obvious from the way she shakes as she paces, her breathing harsh. He hears a growl she tries to suppress, and it feels like it reverberates in his own chest. The baby whimpers in his arms, but when he glances down, her eyes are closed. Since sometime after midnight, she’s stayed half asleep in her infant form, like her tiny body has nothing more to give, and he’s grateful for it now. “Shh, it’s okay, Aves,” he coos softly to her now. “You’re okay now.”

Something about the sound of his voice is enough to sooth her, and she falls quiet again. Gently, he lays her down in the middle of the bed, moving their pillows to rest on either side of her before he turns his attention back to Malia. She’s over in the corner of the room, bent over with her hands pressed to her knees, like she’s trying to catch her breath. As he watches, her entire body tenses and then seems to convulse again, and she lets out another growl.

“Mal,” he tries gently as he takes a tentative step towards her. “You’ve gotta fight this.” She lifts her head to flash her eyes at him and opens her mouth to say something, but it’s a growl that slips out instead. “She needs you, Mal,” he tries, stepping closer still. She bares her teeth at him then, trying to straighten to standing as another tremor courses through her body. But Stiles rushes forward, catching her forearms to keep her standing. “Ava needs you to stay human,” he tells her. She tries to pull away, but he grips her arms tighter, holding her gaze. “Ava needs you to be here with her.”

[malia]

Her coyote is taking control.

Malia has been in control most of the night, but right now the exhaustion is winning and the animal in her is taking over. She can feel it as she presses the heels of her palms into her thighs, her teeth drawing blood as they press into her lips as she grimaces. Her claws are there against her skin, her spin stretching, aching to shift fully. But she can’t. She can’t, not tonight. Not when it’s not her choice.

Just when she’s not sure she can hold back anymore, she feels his presence. Right there beside her, his scent, his soft voice, the comforting feel of his hands as they rest there against her forearms. She needs him. He’s her anchor. He always has been. But she growls, her coyote tired of being stifled when the full moon is still shining outside the window. She doesn’t mean it, even as her eyes flash bright blue and she sees him in technicolor. She knows…she knows what he’s saying is right and she fights the urge to lash out at him in anger. Not to hurt him, but to assert some kind of dominance over him maybe?

“Ava needs you to be here with her….”

She looks into his eyes, pleading with her almost. She can see a fear there, the same exhaustion that she feels, and love. She’s not sure if it’s the love, or the sound of Ava’s name, or the fact that his touch just seems to do something to her, but her eyes flash that bright blue again. And then it’s over. She can feel her claws retract, her teeth returning to normal, her facial features shifting and tingling. And she sighs, relieved, leaning back against the wall and sliding down so she lands hard on her ass.

But he’s right there in front of her again, reaching for her hands and holding them tightly as she looks at him. She’s frustrated, angry even, at herself and her coyote. She hates it when she doesn’t feel in control, and tonight is a night when they all desperately need her to be in control. “I’m sorry,” She says breathlessly, her head falling back. “I don’t know why I’m having such a hard time keeping it together. But I’m okay now. I promise.” She’s not really sure if she’s okay. She’s tired, even though they’ve been able to sneak in a little sleep here and there. Maybe they just need this night to be over. “Please tell me it’s almost morning.”