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Post by stiles on Feb 7, 2024 16:36:12 GMT -5
He feels it the moment her shift stops. It's like all of the fight leaves her body. Her arms go limp in his hands. Her shoulders sag, and her knees buckle, and she suddenly seems so small and so tired. This time, Stiles lets go as she pulls away, letting her back hit the wall before she slides down to the floor.
Malia's head is bent as she pants, fighting to catch her breath in the aftermath. Immediately, he sinks down in front of her, taking her hands as his eyes scan her body, wanting to know she's okay. The claws are gone from her hands. If she lifted her head, he's pretty sure her eyes would be brown again, and her fangs would be gone. "Are you okay?" he asks her gently. But he's not sure if she's even heard him when she lifts her head, big brown eyes silently pleading with him as she apologizes.
His heart breaks for the hundredth time that night as he listens to her. Stiles reaches for her, pulling her into his arms. "Don't apologize," he says. "You're working so hard to anchor her, it's draining you." It's draining all of us, he almost adds, but he doesn't need to burden her with his own exhaustion. As if to further prove that, she pulls away from him then, her eyes tired as she pleads with him again. He wants to pull her back into his arms and tell her about the benadryl he bought, just in case, and offer it as a solution. He wants to promise her that she doesn't have to do this again, that they won't have another baby who will be subjected to this. He wants to fix this. But instead, he glances down at his smartwatch, not feeling as relieved as he wants to as he tells her, "It's almost three."
From the way her shoulders fall, it's not reassuring to Malia either. So he does the only thing he can do, the only thing that won't hurt her more than she's already hurting. He stands up and offers her his hand, which she takes to help herself to her feet. As soon as she's standing, she falters, and his arm immediately goes to her waist, anchoring her to his side as he guides her back towards their bed. "Lay down with Ava," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple. And Malia doesn't fight him, laying down beside their baby, her eyes already closing. Stiles steps out of the room long enough to grab her a glass of water, setting it on her nightstand before he lays down on Ava's other side. His eyes burn from exhaustion, but he forces himself to stay awake. To keep watching Malia and Ava, making sure they're still okay.
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Post by malia on Feb 7, 2024 22:42:45 GMT -5
Almost 3? She was expecting him to say something like, it’s close to 6. Or the sun will be coming up soon. Anything to signal that the end was in sight. But 3AM was still the middle of the night. If she’s this tired now, how is she going to make it for another 4 hours? She briefly considers crying, but that just makes her angry, so she just signs instead.
Before she can think much more about it, he pulls her attention away by standing up. She gives him her hand when he reaches out and lets him help her up. She realizes she’s still completely naked, not having bothered to put clothes on since her full shift. And she’s much too tired to care about it now. She doesn’t realize how drained she actually is until she almost stumbles when she’s finally on her feet. Luckily Stiles is right there beside her, steadying her, his arm wrapped around her waist. She doesn’t fight him as he guides her to the bed. Her heart aches for the tiny baby nestled there in between the pillows. She looks so peaceful now. Malia can’t help but wonder how tired she must be. At least she’d done this before, it was all still new to Ava. And she was so small, and so helpless. She wants nothing more than to be closer to her in that moment so she doesn’t fight Stiles when he suggest she lie down by their daughter. She climbs into the bed, it’s softness enveloping her as she takes the place of one of the pillows and moves as close as she can to Ava, leaning down to press a kiss to her head and breathing her in.
She listens to her heartbeat, normal and steady. At least for now, she’s deeply asleep. She wonders if maybe there’s a chance that she just won’t shift again. Her eyelids are so heavy, they’re already drifting closed as Stiles leaves the room. She’s barely still awake when he comes back with a big glass of ice water for her. Her breasts are swollen, she needs to nurse, or pump, and she’s too exhausted to do either. She’s not used to feeling this…human. And at the same time, feeling less human than she has in a long time. It’s a strange juxtaposition that she’s not sure she’s very fond of.
Stiles moves close on the other side of the baby, and she reaches her hand for his, lacing her fingers through his own. His hazel eyes are tired, the dark circles under them seeming pronounced even in the dim light of the room. It’s like his exhaustion mirrors her own. But her brain is too tired to think about it and it’s the last thing she remembers thinking before she drifts into a fitful sleep again.
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Post by stiles on Feb 7, 2024 23:14:32 GMT -5
There’s a fragile peace that settles over their room when Malia falls asleep. Fragile enough that Stiles is afraid to breathe too loudly. Malia’s hand is limp in his, but he still holds it, afraid that dropping it would mean breaking this sense of calm. The baby sleeps soundly between them, but her sleep feels even more delicate. He’s one slight movement away from sending her into her next shift, and it terrifies him.
So he finds himself unable to look away from her tiny, sleeping form. They had fought over having the baby in their bed with them. It had been when Malia was still pregnant and everything about their relationship felt delicate. He had suggested looking at bassinets, and she had scoffed, saying the baby didn’t any place to sleep under than curled up between them. It had been his turn to laugh then, and Malia lost it. It wasn’t as bad as the fight over where Malia would give birth, but it was up there, thanks to their combined fear and anxiety. He hadn’t wanted the baby in their bed, tiny and new and unable to roll over. He had had nightmares about waking up to find her blue in between them, having suffocated under their weight, until Malia agreed to the cosleeper bassinet that would press right up against the edge of their bed. But tonight, he’s too tired to fight it. And it feels like both girls might need this.
Slowly, he shifts to check his watch again. It’s a little after three. Stiles knows from all of the times he obsessively checked during the day that the sun will rise at 6:45, almost three and a half hours from now. Of course, it would be their luck that their baby would learn to shift during the darkest part of the year. It’s the last coherent thought he has before his own exhaustion wins. He tells himself that he’s going to rest his eyes for just a minute before he rolls over, sits up, maybe does a lap around their room to keep himself awake. And then he’s out.
The next thing he knows is that Ava’s crying. His sleep is shallow enough that her soft whimpering wakes him immediately. His eyes open slowly, adjusting to the harsh light of the lamps they still have turned on. The first thing he notices is that the sky outside is gray. His heart lifts at the sight, a sure sign that they’re through the worst of it and morning isn’t far off. The second thing he notices is Malia stirring. She moans softly as she stretches before curling in on herself, like she’s trying to escape this moment. But Ava’s cry becomes a yip in the next moment, and he watches as Malia cracks one eye open to see their daughter, now a pup, in the middle of the bed.
But her eye closes just as quickly. She moves again, and this time, her moan has an edge to it. It draws his attention from Ava’s trembling little body in the middle of the bed as he notes the sound of pain. Again, he scans her body, looking for any sign of an injury Ava might have accidentally inflicted. Instead, he finds that her breasts are engorged, milk beginning to leak down her chest. It’s been far too long since she’s had relief, and he winces in sympathy at the pain she must feel. But to his horror, her eyes don’t open again as she reaches towards the pup. One arm loops around her while her other hand cups her breast that rests against their bed.
“Stop!” he yells. It startles Ava enough to make her howl, but Stiles barely notices as he sits up, ready to pull the baby away from his fiancee. “Stop, Mal! You can’t feed her like this!”
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Post by malia on Feb 8, 2024 22:53:29 GMT -5
The first coherent thought that flows through her brain as she begins to wake up is pain. Her breasts are sore to the point of aching, sticky with the droplets of milk that are beginning to leak from her nipples. She loved nursing, more than anything, but there was no doubt that it came with its downside. And the fact that she had to pump or nurse on a pretty strict schedule or suffer if she didn’t was one of them. She knows she groans, she knows that the baby is awake, and she knows that she’s more exhausted than she’s ever been in her life. Those are the only things she knows. Her boobs hurt, her nipples are leaking, and the baby is hungry. It’s definitely time to feed the baby.
The fur that covers the baby’s body doesn’t register, and neither does the fact that she now has four legs instead of two. She scoops her arm around Ava, pulling her close as she cups her breast so the baby can nurse while they’re still in bed. And that’s when Stile’s voice startles her truly awake. Her eyes shoot wide up, picking up immediately on the panicked sound of his voice. Ava is a pup, sharp teeth and all, and she’s pulling her toward her breast. And before either of them know what’s happening, Ava has big down on her most sensitive skin. She cries out, more loudly than she realizes. And the sound startles the baby, immediately causing her to release her grip and wiggle away. She whines and Stiles, for the first time since Ava has started shifting, reaches for the tiny pup and pulls her into his arms. She hears him swear as she sits up, blood now covering her swollen breast from where the baby’s teeth clamped down around her nipple.
She moves her hand to cover the wound, blood immediately beginning to seep through the spaces between her fingers. She looks at him, knowing that it doesn’t matter. She has to pull herself together for Ava. She’s the only one that can help her get through this. She reaches for the first thing she can find, which is a burp cloth that’s hanging over the side of Ava’s bassinet, and she presses it against her breast. She doesn’t bother to look and see how serious the wound is, it’ll heal eventually. And she leans down so she can see Ava’s tiny pup face, flashing her eyes blue as she does. Stiles holds her close, running his hand along her fur as Malia reaches her free hand out to console the baby with her own touch. “It’s okay my love,” She says softly. “Calm down. Listen to my voice.”
Ava can’t understand her, of course she can’t. But she lets those yellow eyes lock with Malia’s and she can feel the connection their hearts share. She blinks slowly, trying to will some of the control she is barely hanging on to into her tiny daughter. “Daddy’s got you.” And right before her eyes, the little pup tenses, whining a bit, and quickly shifts back to the tiny baby that they’re more familiar with. She sighs with relief, falling back against the bed again and trying to catch her breath.
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Post by stiles on Feb 10, 2024 15:23:59 GMT -5
Stiles is fast, but not fast enough. He watches in horror as Malia’s eyes widen in the moment it’s too late. She freezes, but Ava is already close enough. Hungry, and scared, and seeking comfort, the baby bites down on Malia’s nipple. Malia cries out. Ava startles, wriggling free of her mother’s arms. And Stiles curses.
“Shit.”
Instinctively, he reaches for the baby. She’s whimpering and trembling in the middle of their bed, scared out of her tiny mind. And he can’t just leave her there. So he pulls her into his own arms, holding her as tight as he can. He had admittedly wanted to smack Liam when he suggested a thundercoat, like Ava was a dog afraid of fireworks, but Derek had been slower to react. He had tilted his head to the side, considering the suggestion before saying that pressure would help. A weighted blanket or their arms. Something to make her feel more contained, less wild. And right now, his arms are the only option Ava has.
“You’re okay, Ava,” he says, trying to console her. “You’re okay.” As he talks to the baby, his eyes watch Malia as she sits up. There’s a lot of blood running down her chest. Far more than there was the first time Ava got her. And there’s four distinct puncture wounds that surround her nipple. “Oh fuck, Mal,” he murmurs, but Malia barely pauses. She reaches for the baby’s burp cloth, wincing as she presses it to her breast, but then the baby is her entire focus.
It’s weird to feel it happen this time. He can feel Ava tense and tremble in his hands, and it breaks his heart. Her tiny whimpers vibrate against his hands as she shakes and fights - whether it’s against Malia’s pull or her shift, he doesn’t know. But Malia doesn’t stop. Her pain is clearly written on her face alongside her exhaustion, but she keeps talking to the baby, trying to soothe her. And then finally, when Stiles is starting to feel like this might be when they finally lose this fight against her tiny coyote side, Ava finally shifts back.
Stiles’s grip on her tightens as she’s suddenly a baby again. There’s a beat, and then Ava wails, cold and scared and unhappy to be held so tightly beneath her arms. Malia falls back on the bed, spent, and it’s all he can do not to reach for her. Instead, she moves Ava to his shoulder, murmuring softly to her as he stands up from the bed. “You’re okay, Aves. I’m right here.” He heads straight for the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it before he returns again. Malia is still laying there, eyes clothes and hand pressed to her breast when he returns, but her eyes slide open at the sound of his approaching footsteps. Immediately, she turns on her side, reaching up for the baby, and he doesn’t hesitate to hand her over. Malia curls on her side as she brings the baby to her uninjured breast.
A sob of relief slides past her lips, and Stiles feels guilty for not having suggested she pump earlier. He reaches for the cloth covering her other breast, and she hisses. It hasn’t healed at all beneath the cloth, still dripping both blood and milk, thanks to the baby’s crying, and it tugs at his heart again. Gently, he presses his hand against her breast, keeping the warm washcloth here. “We’ve gotta figure something out before the next full moon,” he sighs as he looks over at her, her eyes closed again as she nurses the baby. “Preferably before you lose a nipple to her fangs.”
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Post by malia on Feb 11, 2024 22:36:33 GMT -5
The pain had been intense enough before Ava had bit down around her nipple, but now it’s all she can do to keep from passing out as she falls back against the bed again. She moans softly, the pressure intensifying as Ava wails in Stiles’s arms. She can tell she’s not healing, at least not as fast as she usually does. A sure sign that her body is just as drained as her mind feels. She presses both hands to her breast, ignoring the pressure of the milk that desperately needs an escape, her mind totally focused on just trying to stop the bleeding at this point.
Until she sees the baby again.
As soon as Stiles is back by her side, she reaches for Ava. She needs to feel her close, to comfort her, but more than anything…for her to nurse. It’s more than a need at this point. She’s desperate. She lets Stiles take her place applying pressure to the wound, the warm washcloth feeling good against her skin. She signs with relief as Ava latches on, the feeling of the pressure releasing almost immediate as she begins to suck through her remaining sobs. Malia leans down to press a kiss to her head. Her little eyes are already dropping shut as she drinks. “You have to stay awake long enough to eat,” Malia almost pleads with her. She needs this desperately. She closes her eyes and listens to Stiles talk, the sound of his voice soothing even if his words really aren’t.
“I know,” she says. She’s not sure any of them can go through another night like this. Especially not Ava. It’s so much, and she’s so small. She finally opens her eyes, watching Stiles as he observes her wound, pressing the cloth back to it almost immediately. “I didn’t know it was going to be like this,” She tells him honestly. “I don’t remember it ever being like this for me. But then, I guess I changed and never changed back. Not for a long time.” And it’s was hard then. Hard to shift, hard to not be able to shift, hard to control the shift. But she was almost a grown adult by then. Ava is barely 4 months old.
They settle into a resigned silence, nether of them really having an answer and both of their brains too tired for conversation. He watches as she nurses the baby, nudging her awake every time she falls asleep, checking her breast until it finally stops bleeding. As soon as it does, she has to try to switch Ava to the other side. She winces in pain, but the relief that comes with Ava’s suckling is enough to overshadow anything else. She only nurses for a moment before she falls into a deep sleep, no amount of nudging doing anything to wake her up. Stiles sighs, the first signs of light finally peaking through the blinds of the bedroom. Malia lifts the baby to her shoulder, gently patting her back as she looks at her fiancé.
His eyes are tired, his face pale, and there’s is still blood seeping through the bandage on his chest. She’s worried about him now that the night is almost finally over. “Are you okay?”
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Post by stiles on Feb 12, 2024 17:51:19 GMT -5
It's silent in their room for what feels like the first time all night. The baby quietly nurses as she drifts towards sleep. Malia is quiet as she closes her own eyes, letting her head fall back against the headboard. And Stiles simply sits beside them applying pressure to Malia's latest injury. It's silent, but it lacks the peace of every moment like this that's come before. His shoulders ache with the tension that seems to have settled there permanently after hours spent bracing himself for the next shift. His eyes feel gritty from the lack of sleep, and there's a headache building in the back of his skull. And his chest stings where he's pretty sure he pulled a stitch loose in his rush to grab Ava.
In short, he's mentally, emotionally, and physically drained, and he knows he hasn't endured the worst of it.
There's a sense of desperation in Malia's voice as she pleads with the baby to stay awake, and Stiles finds himself reaching for her tiny foot with his free hand. It was a trick Melissa recommended when Ava was a tiny newborn, rubbing the soles of her feet so she'd respond and start to wake up. It's almost a comfort for him now, too, a steady rhythm for his hand while his mind reels.
Malia's voice is soft when she talks, but that sense of desperation is still there as she insists again that she didn't know tonight would be like this. That it hadn't been like this for her. "You were a kid, too," he says, feeling the knot that settles in his stomach again at the thought. He still hasn't forgotten Scott's quiet awe in the kitchen right before he left. Malia shifted when she was 9 and old enough to understand some part of what was happening, even if she couldn't understand it all. But Ava wasn't even six months old yet, shifting well before any other member of the Hale family. It's something he knows he needs to tell Malia, but he still can't find the words to express that their baby might have more power than either of them are prepared for.
Luckily, she saves him from the moral dilemma of trying to figure out if he should be the one to tell her. In the time he's mulled over the pros and cons of telling her, Malia's switched the baby to her other breast, and Stiles has pulled back, his hand still rubbing the baby's tiny foot. At the sound of her voice, he lifts his eyes from the baby to find her watching him, concern etched across her face. "I'm fine," he says a little too quickly. But in comparison to her, it does feel like he's fine. He's been here, weathering this storm beside her, but it's taken a different kind of toll on him. One that feels like traumatic in some way. "I'm worried about you. Are you okay?"
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Post by malia on Feb 13, 2024 22:52:03 GMT -5
She can feel the tension radiating from him in the moment. Tension like he has something to say but he doesn’t want to say it. But she just chalks it up to the night, to the stress of seeing their baby lose control over and over again, to the stress of an injury that required medical attention, and of course to a severe lack of sleep. She doesn’t remember the last time she’s seen his hazel eyes so tired as he looks at her, assuring her that he’s fine.
It’s a lie, of course it is. This night had been traumatic for all of them.
And of course it’s a lie when she tells him the same. “I’m fine too…” she assures him, knowing that it’s not any more of an acceptable answer than the one he gave her. “As fine as you are.” She smirks at him, hoping that her attempt at a joke isn’t lost on him. He snorts a quiet laugh, and she knows that it’s not. Fair enough… He tells her easily. He knows all of the things she’s not telling him. That she’s sore, and worried, and afraid that they’ll never be able to make this easier for the baby. That she’s worried about him and she’s exhausted and completely emotionally drained. All of the same things that she knows he feels right now.
Ava has officially passed out, her little fist balled up against Malia’s breast as she settles into a full on milk coma. Her breasts are still uncomfortable and she knows she’s going to have to pump, but Ava has eaten enough to take some of the pressure off. She sits up so she can lift Ava to her shoulder, patting her little naked back as Ava’s head rests against her shoulder. “Can you get a diaper and a sleeper?” She asks Stiles as he keeps his eyes locked on the baby. Malia glances at the window one more time, this time a stream of early morning sunlight pouring through the cracks in the blinds. “I think we’re safe now.”
Morning had come, and they had survived, all a little worse for wear, but they’d survived.
Stiles doesn’t waste any time, even though she can almost feel the exhaustion radiating from his body. He makes his way to the changing table and gets the things she’d asked for and they both work on getting their completely exhausted baby into some fresh, clean, comfortable clothes. She sleeps soundly through the whole thing, the picture of peace and innocence, not a trace of the frantic little pup that they both know that she’ll become again…sometime.
“I don’t think we can do this again,” Malia mumbles, moving her hand to smooth down Ava’s wild hair. She looks at Stiles, reaching for his hand. “We have to figure something out before the next full moon.”
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