ooc: Got Jen's permission here for the Rikki parts. Not totally mad with power. YET.
Scott's walking through a field at night, Stiles on one side and Allison and Lydia on the other, heading towards a decrepit old gym, where a teenage Rikki is standing in the doorway looking out at them. Scott gets a bit behind the others as he turns around to make sure they're not being followed, then turns back and breaks into a jog to catch up with his friends just as Rikki gives Stiles a little wave. Sam steps out behind Rikki to see who's coming and, almost simultaneously, Scott runs into an invisible barrier and falls on his ass with a loud, bark-like yelp. Just as quickly he gets up and scrambles off into the woods as Stiles claps a hand over his mouth.
“Shit, I forgot the mountain ash,” he whispers, then, loud enough for Rikki and Sam to hear, “Sorry! Scott's...I have to go!” He yells, then runs off too followed, after a stunned moment, by Allison and Lydia.
The shot tightens on Rikki's completely bemused face.
---
“That was totally what happened!” Scott insists, twisting to look down at Rikki, who is sitting next to him on the couch leaning against his side.
“Mate, I love you, but you're full of shit,” she scoffs, and Scott gives her a shocked look, putting a hand over her stomach.
“Are swearing in front of our child?”
“More like our zygote, it can't hea-”
“Oh, now our baby's an it, I see how it is.”
“Oh fuck off.” She snaps, but she's laughing while she says it and Scott leans closer to her stomach and whispers,
“Shhh, don't listen to her. Your mom's mad because I'm right, she saw me fall on my butt for no reason then run into the woods and instantly thought, 'that was the most attractive thing I have ever seen, in my entire life. I am going to find that guy, marry him, and have his babies.' Then - oof” He's cut off as a pillow hits him in the face.
---
“Remind me why I'm doing this in a vet's office again?” Rikki grounds out, hand on her noticeably larger stomach and eyes wide with pain and maybe a little bit of panic as Cora helps her through the door of Deaton's veterinary clinic.
“Apparently if a nurse hands you an ice chip, things are going to get interesting,” the other woman deadpans as Stiles hurries around from the car he just finished parking to hold the door open for the pair to enter the lobby.
“Okay, good reason. Next question - where the hell is my husband?” Scott promptly appears from Deaton's back room, smacking his left shoulder into the doorframe in his haste without even seeming to notice.
“We're good, the room's set up, we're ready to go. You're ready, right? You're okay? Everything's okay? The car ride was okay?” He babbles frantically, reaching out for Rikki who propels herself determinedly away from Cora and towards Scott.
“Everything's great now that my magic pain-siphoning husband is here,” she says grimly, “hi baby, remember when you thought having a kid was a great idea?”
Scott gulps but reaches out to take her hand just as Stiles launches himself back towards the front door to head off a man trying to come in with a cat carrier.
“Dude, the sign says closed,” he snaps, slamming the door in the bewildered cat-owner's face.
---
“You're sure?” Scott asks, and it's clear from the amused patience on Deaton's face that it's for the millionth time. Scott keeps glancing from his former boss's face to the cot where Rikki is sitting up, completely absorbed in the baby she's holding as if being even this far from them is physically uncomfortable.
“I'm sure. She's not responsive to water or light near her eyes in any unusual way, she's completely human.”
Scott launches forward to hug the other man, then hurries back to his family, scooting himself onto the cot next to Rikki and wrapping an arm around her before looking down at their daughter and smiling, eyes watering from a combination of emotion and the fear that if he blinks this will all disappear.
---
Anna's crying, the loud, unending wail of a baby who has been crying for several hours and, having been burped, changed, fed, changed again only to discover there was no reason for changing, held, and rocked, has decided that crying for its own sake is actually great, and she'll be doing that for the foreseeable future, thanks anyway. Scott is holding her, walking in circles around his living room and patting her back, looking completely harried.
“Please stop crying, Anna,” he begs, turning around to walk in circles in the other direction, “You're fine, you're happy, you're wrapped up like a burrito. Who could cry at 3am when they're wrapped up like a burrito? A burrito whose mom has already gotten up with her three times, and who it wouldn't be fair to wake up again. Do you want me to sing?” Anna screams even louder, her face going completely red, and he seems to take that as a yes, humming before launching into Old McDonald, then a Beatles song, then finally, when none of them work, just sing-songing his stream of consciousness until he winds up with a vague tune accompanying the words, “Annaaa, stop cryiiiiing, you're wrapped up like a burritoooo, you are a burritoooo, and burritos can't cryyyy.”
Around the third repetition of that chorus Anna sniffles into his shoulder and the wailing finally ceases.
---
Scott and Stiles are lying, side by side, in the grass of Scott and Rikki's backyard, each with a baby on their chest. Anna is gabbling away in baby-babble, flailing around so much that he has to steady her every so often, while the baby on Stiles' chest just stares around with an expression of intense baby-concentration, every once in a while grunting quietly.
“You think we should go in?” Stiles asks, and Scott shrugs. “No rush.” He closes his eyes, looking completely relaxed.