Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There is a familiar smell coming from the woods and it's making Derek nervous. He can't place it, exactly, but the scent is tangled up of memories with his family, laughing and running together on the full moon.

Derek tries to ignore the faint glimmer of hope that maybe another one of the Hales survived, one of his cousins maybe, Max or Jane, they could have gotten out, crazy troublemakers that they were--

Derek scowls. It wouldn't be possible. The only other Hale is his baby sister, Cora, who is right behind him, sniffing suspiciously.

"That's really weird," she says, scrunching her nose. "It smells a lot like y--"

Derek hushes her as there are four much clearer, distinct scents and heartbeats approach.

Scott joins them on the trail, Stiles, Allison and Isaac behind them.

"Hey, guys," Cora says brightly.

A chorus of greetings are exchanged, and Scott coughs pointedly when Stiles starts bragging about his latest magical achievement.

"Okay, so I think it's just a rogue omega in our territory," Scott says. "Should be simple, right? He hasn't hurt anyone so far, and I think he's out by the old river. If we talk to him we can figure out what he wants, or tell him to move along."

"He could just be seeking protection from our pack," Derek says.

Scott nods, shifting into his wolf form, his eyes glowing Alpha red. He howls into the night, a piercing powerful cry that echoes into the woods. Derek can feel Cora and Isaac reacting to the pull of the Alpha, growling with anticipation and shifting as well. He also can feel the growing urge to shift and follow Scott.

There's a faint howl in the distance, and the wolves glance at each other before Scott tilts his head forward, leading the way on all fours. Cora and Isaac bound after him, howling with delight of the thrill of the chase. Derek can feel the warmth of the pack and the bond of working together and is glad that the pack is finally come together, Scott taking becoming the Alpha with stride. The mentorship has been rocky, and Derek is happy to give Scott his moment taking the lead with the omega. He would do him good to conduct some pack business without Derek breathing down his neck.

Allison has already sprinted after the wolves, disappearing down the trail on foot.

Derek matches his gait to Stiles, who is huffing indignantly.

After a moment Stiles asks, "How come you didn't wolf out with the others? You probably would have made it there first."

Derek doesn't think about why he wants to stay behind with Stiles; instead, he scowls at him. "I had to make sure you didn't blow yourself up. What is that, anyways? It looks dangerous." Derek gestures to the weird contraption that is bouncing up and down Stiles' chest as he runs. It's an strange combination of metal and thread, and he can see glowing runes etched onto the metal.

"Oh, this? No, this is awesome. I just activated it today after working on it for weeks," said Stiles proudly.

"Activated?"

"Not sure exactly, but it's like an emergency safety transporter, I think," Stiles says, scratching his head.

"You think. You made it without knowing what it would do?" Derek doesn't know whether to be impressed that Stiles could create potentially powerful magical artifacts or horrified that Stiles just created something without knowing the consequences.

"Yep. It looked really cool in the books, and Deaton says it could be really useful if I pulled it off."

Derek rolls his eyes, and he doesn't quite know what to say anymore, so he contents with running alongside Stiles as he tracks the scent. If he sneaks glances at the way Stiles' cheeks flush in the cold night air or the way his pink mouth falls open when he catches his breath, well, he doesn't, okay? Derek's just making sure that the thingamajig hasn't blown up yet, seeing as its starting to glow intensely.

It doesn't take them long to catch up with the others,  who had the omega surrounded.

Scott flashed his red eyes and bared his fangs. "I'll ask you again. Who are you and why are you here," he growled.

The guy didn't seem intimidated at all, more annoyed at best. From where he was Derek could make out the guy was older, with a familiar looking face that strongly reminded him of his father for some reason.

"I told you, it would be easier to explain once Stiles is here," the guy says.

"What--how do you know my name?" asks Stiles.

Cora's shifted back into human form, and she's sniffing the air again and her eyes widen, staring between the guy and Derek.

The guy pulls out something from his pocket. It's glowing profusely, and Derek can see its identical to the one hanging around Stiles' neck. As soon as the artifact meets the air both of them flash suddenly and then go dark.

There's a shifting in the clouds, and more moonlight shines down on them, revealing the guy's profile. Suddenly Derek realizes that the guy doesn't bear a strong resemblance to his father, he looks an awful lot like Derek.

"It's okay," the guy says, "I'm Derek Hale. I'm from the future."

Future Derek is hilarious, Stiles decides.

After what seemed to be forever (actually probably only a few minutes) they confirmed Future Derek's identity. With the liberal use of salt, holy water, and other herbs in Stiles' arsenal they confirmed that he was not a demon, skinwalker, or any other supernatural being that they had come across so far. Also with the fact that all the wolves agreed the Dereks' shared a "core" scent, whatever that was. And the most obvious piece of evidence was the matching artifacts. Stiles had given himself a mental high-five for saving Derek's life in the future with his thingamajig.

Future Derek had pulled all of them into a huge bear hug, ruffled Isaac's hair, and even gave Scott an affectionate noogie. It was amazing, he even hugged himself, while Derek awkwardly recieved the hug, not moving.

They were walking back towards town, and Scott was trying to ply information about the future from Future Derek, who was refusing.

"I'm serious," said Scott, "I mean it would be really helpful if you could give us any kind of heads up on whats to come," he said.

Future Derek turns and grins at Scott. "Hi, Serious," he says. "I'm Derek."

There is a moment of silence and a few incredulous stares. Stiles is the first one to burst out laughing, and just the concept of Derek cracking a joke is so funny he's doubled up and clutching his sides. Isaac is chuckling, too, but Stiles is the only one cackling. "Holy shit," he gasps.

"What?" Future Derek asks, his eyes dancing with mirth. He's got laugh lines, Stiles notices, and wonders how old this Derek is.

"You actually made a joke," Stiles says. "Omigod, you actually tried to be funny!" he waggles his eyebrows at his Derek, and punches him affectionately in the shoulder. This gets him a glare and sore knuckles.

“What are you talking about, tried?” the older Derek asks. “That was a joke! You laughed!”

Stiles coughs. “No, it was a terrible joke, but it’s just hilarious that you made one.”

“Why?” asks the present Derek, scowling. “I make jokes.”

“No, you don’t,” Cora says, giggling. “You stand there and glare at everyone.”

“I do not,” Derek says, glaring.

When Stiles raises his eyebrow makes a Vanna White gesture towards Derek and everyone starts laughing again, Derek responds by giving him a quick shove.

Stiles continues waggling his eyebrows at Derek; it’s one of his favorite things to do, and getting him to break out of that surly shell is always a good time. Stiles looks back at Future Derek, expecting a twin of the exasperated expression on Derek’s face, but instead he’s smiling, warm and open and practically fond.

Surprised, Stiles completely blanks out on the continued (what he assumes) pathetic whining on Scott's part about knowledge of the future.

Stiles also decides during this time that Derek retains his hotness as he gets older. Dude must be pushing forty, his face is worn with a few lines, and there is silver streaking through his hair but he definitely still got it.  Stiles shakes himself out of this train of thought by cutting off Scott. "Dude, he can't tell us anything about our futures, it would wreck the time-space continuum!"

Future Derek coughs and says, "This is weird, but I remember this from when I was, well, you," he gestures toward his past self, "And I'm not going to say anything I don't remember saying." He pauses, scratching his head. "If that makes sense."

"Omigod," Allison shrieks, grabbing his hand and holding it aloft.  A golden band glints on his finger. "You're married!"

There are a few exclamations of surprise and Stiles feels a weight settle in his stomach. Of course, Derek found someone; it explains why he radiates happiness and confidence. Stiles should be extremely happy for Derek, but he just feels like the chances of his longstanding crush ever turning into a relationship turned to nothing with depressing finality.

"Who is it?" Isaac asks and the eyes of the pack turn towards Future Derek with curiosity. "Is it one of those things you can tell us?"

"Spoilers," the older man says, raising his eyebrows.

"What the hell," Stiles snaps, "You don't even watch Doctor Who."

Chapter Text

The pack all end up at the Derek's apartment before he realizes his future self had explained he would be stuck in their time for a few days before apparently "something" happened and he returned to the future.

Derek frowns. There's no way there will be room for him (himself?) to stay comfortably at the apartment; it had been a small two bedroom when it was just him and Isaac, but since he and Cora had returned from their travels she had appropriated the master bedroom and Derek had been crashing on the couch until they get a bigger place.

Stiles is apparently still trying to needle the future self into revealing who his spouse is, to no avail.

"I mean, don't you want to know who you get married to?" Stiles asks, turning his wide eyes to Derek.

"No," Derek says gruffly. He really doesn't want to know anything about his future life, at all. It makes him vastly uncomfortable that he survives to a certain age, what with all the horrible supernatural drama that goes on, and he doesn't want to know anything that will jeopardize the pack's safety, like knowing who else survives. It is also extremely strange to look at him, to smell a familiar yet slightly different scent of pack, to look at himself, aged twenty-five years or so, standing and looking curiously around his apartment.

"You can stay here, old man," says Derek. "Isaac, you can take the couch." A few nights on the floor shouldn't be too bad; Derek's has had worse. Plus, he doesn't want to seem inhospitable; none of the pack seem to think the time traveller is weird at all, laughing and hugging and bonding, of all things, on the short walk back. Derek's not jealous. Not at all.

"What? No, we've got the spare bedroom back at my house," Stiles offers.

The other Derek throws Stiles a grateful look, and he's practically beaming. Derek is mortified; he doesn't even understand what is happening on his other self's face right now, he looks pathetic. He doesn't even know what facial muscles to use to make that soppy expression.

"Great!" the older Derek says.

Scott looks around. "I guess we don't have any more pack business tonight," he says happily. "I'm gonna head home, my mom will be thrilled I'm actually back home early on a school night."

There is a chorus of goodbyes, and Derek can't help hearing from outside (and it's not going to stop being weird, is it?) in his own voice, "Hey! Look at you!" in an admiring tone.

For a split angry second Derek thinks he's talking about Stiles, but then he hears Stiles say, "Oh! You know my car! Well, of course you know my car, you've been in my car, we've had moments in my car-- I mean, you've almost died in my car!"

There's laughing, and then the other Derek says, "I mean, its nice to see your car like this."

There's a pause, and then Stiles shrieks, "My baby! Something happens to my baby in the future!"

"No, no, stop freaking out--"

"Is it the engine? I know she's old but I keep up to date on oil checks and everything! What about the battery? I knew I should have replaced that thing! Derek, does this mean Baby breaks down in the future?" Stiles babbles.

"Nothing happens okay, stop being so paranoid-- actually, okay, this explains a lot."

"I see, this is one of those moments where you are telling me something useful in the future, right, but you can't, so I'm reading between the lines, and I get it, you can't tell me."

Derek is rolling his eyes because even though he can't see Stiles saying this right now, he's pretty sure Stiles is giving an exaggerated wink, and then he hears the engine starts and they pull away.

Isaac pops back into the living room, in the middle of brushing his teeth. Derek pulls a random book off his bookshelf so it isn't quite so obvious that he had been eavesdropping.

"Dude! You're visiting from the future! Is that cool or what?" Isaac mumbles around the toothpaste.

Derek gives him a glare, thinking about his future self happily talking with Stiles right now.

Nope. Not jealous.

The next morning at school passes by in a daze for Stiles (it doesn't really matter, it's May of seinor year and he's already set to go to Berkeley with Scott).  Last night just seemed so surreal, hanging out with Derek at his house. In his future incarnation, still, but it was still Derek, and it didn't make it any less weird.

Dad had been on a night shift, so Stiles had written a brief explanation note and tacked it to the fridge after setting up the guest room with clean sheets. He would have thought it would have been awkward for Derek, and Stiles would have totally expected him to brood or sulk in the guest room alone, but Derek had followed him back into the kitchen. He seemed so at ease in the Stilinski house, like it was completely natural for Derek Hale to lean against the kitchen counter and tilt his head at Stiles.

"Er, I was just going to play videogames until I was tired, I don't know if you wanna," Stiles started, and when Derek started nodding enthusiasticially, Stiles just said, "Oh, okay," and that was how he ended up playing Mario Kart in his bedroom with Derek Hale for the next two hours.

It had been oddly fun, and entirely different from playing with Scott, who got sad if Stiles beat him and always clamored for playing co-op games, where Derek was competitive, loud, and downright sneaky.

"What the hell, old man!" Stiles shrieked as Derek wins again. He looks at Derek, and there's a happy, amused expression on his face again. "Dude, you are like, practically as old as my dad, how are you so good--"

"I really didn't start playing until--" Derek coughs and then gets up, handing back the controller to Stiles. "Well, that was fun. See you tomorrow!" He left the room in a hurry, but not before he glances around and -- Stiles wasn't sure, but he could have sworn that Derek was sniffing the air before he left.

It had been a weird night, for sure. Unexpectedly nice, but Stiles didn't really know what to make of Derek looking at him every so often instead of playing the game, like they were best friends, or something. Stiles didn't know how to describe it, it was like the older Derek's eyes had been twinkling, but honestly, fucking werewolf genes and their hotness retention factor, Derek still looked great whether he was twenty-five or fifty. Derek and his green eyes with flecks of gold, fucking twinkling  with delight, now what would Stiles give to see his Derek with that look in his eyes, what--

"Stiles!"

"What?" Stiles startles out of his daydream, nearly flailing out of his chair in the cafeteria.

Scott gives him an exasperated expression. "Did you hear what I said?"

Stiles scrunches his nose, taking note of the sad-puppy-dog look on Scott's face. He hazards a guess. "Er--Allison?"

Scott sighs and Stiles pats himself on the back for being correct. Not that it was a difficult guess.

"I mean, it would be weird to ask her to prom, since we're not together, but I asked her when we were together, but that was three months ago," Scott whines.

Stiles pats his best friend on the back. "Dude, do you want to take her to prom?"

Scott nods, "But I don't want to pressure her to get back together, unless she wants to get back together."

Stiles laughs. "You are so lucky she doesn't have super-hearing," he quips, pointing out Allison talking with Lydia a few tables away.

Scott groans and pushes his face into the table. Stiles helpfully pulls Scott's lunch out of the way before he gets a face full of mashed potatoes. He's a good best friend.

The rest of the day passes by pretty uneventfully and Stiles is exhausted from lacrosse practice. After he drops Scott off, he heads home, hungry and tired and muscles aching. Stiles pulls into the driveway, thinking about potential heart-healthy dinners he could make for his dad. He knows if he doesn't make anything, Dad would definitely make an excuse to order pizza or something ridiculous, especially if they have guests. Oh right, older Derek is still here.

Stiles opens the door, pushing away his bone-tired feelings even though he definitely doesn't want to cook dinner, he is going to because he's a great son and he loves his dad.

"Hey, son!" his dad calls from the couch. There are a few empty plates on the coffee table, and he's got his feet propped up and is watching an old rerun of Law and Order on the TV, holding a beer. Derek gets up from next to him, clearing the plates and bringing them towards the kitchen.

"Hey, Stiles," Derek says, smiling at him. "Your dad was hungry so I fixed him a salad. I made lasagna too, but only enough so he wouldn't get a second serving."

Stiles can only stare at him while Derek piles the dirty dishes in the sink and pulls out a dish from the oven with a delicious smelling and generous sized piece of lasagna on it. Derek sets it on the dining room table and pats Stiles' shoulder as he sits down, smelling herbs and cheese and meat.

Derek joins the Sheriff on the couch, handing him another beer. "Here you go, John," he says.

Stiles eats his lasagna slowly, inhaling the steam and savoring the taste. It tastes amazing, and he watches in wonder as Derek and his father watch TV together, making predictions and cheering when the bad guy is caught.

Stiles finishes his lasagna and sighs, catching Derek's eye and the guy smirks at him. What the hell. Derek Hale is the least domestic person Stiles knows, and somehow he turned out to be an amazing cook and is friends with his dad. What is his life.

Chapter Text

Derek shifts back into human form, vaguely aware that the sun has set and a murky twilight has settled about the Preserve. He's been running for hours, letting his wolf free to vent his frustration by allowing his baser instincts to take control.

He pants, steam rising from his body as Derek notices smears of blood on his arms. He must have taken down a buck. And maybe eaten some of it. There's a distinct taste in Derek's mouth, so he's pretty sure that happened.

His future self has only been here for two days and Derek is already beyond exasperated. At first Derek was sure his presence was going to be a minor inconvenience; he should have been pleased that this was not a dangerous supernatural event at all.

But apparently his pack liked hanging out with the other Derek more.

Yesterday, Derek had gotten worried when Isaac hadn't returned home from lacrosse practice after school. It was past eight o'clock and Isaac wasn't responding to his text messages and his phone had gone straight to voicemail. Cora wasn't back yet either, but Derek remembered Cora mentioning going to the mall on Friday with Lydia to pick out a prom dress. Still, Derek was still responsible for them, and he finally decided to put his concern to rest and go out and look for them.

Derek tracked their scents to the Stilinski house, of all places. He was expecting something like an impromptu study group and for sheepish apolgies from Cora and Isaac for worrying him, but it was definitely not what happened when he flung open the door.

The pack was sprawled around the living room, all of them were just laughing and smiling at each other, in the midst of eating greasy pizza and watching some action movie with the other Derek.  Scott and Allison were on the floor, apparently picking pizza toppings off their slices and sharing them with each other, Isaac staring wide-eyed at the TV while trying (and and failing) to aim a slice of pizza in his mouth while Lydia made an amused expression at Isaac while blotting her pizza. Cora and Stiles were on the couch gesturing animatedly at the older man, who wore a relaxed smile and looked like he belonged. With Derek's pack.

Eyes turned towards Derek and there was a prolonged moment of silence where the teenagers looked at each other, embarrassed. "Hey, Derek," Scott starts, "Want some pi--"

Derek glared at him, cutting him off. "Just wanted to check on Isaac and Cora," he said sharply, and then turned and walked out the door.

It slammed behind him, and Derek stalked furiously down the driveway, but not before he can hear someone hissing, "I can't believe you didn't notice he wasn't here!" and "Shut up, you didn't either, and technically he is--"

The door slammed again and Derek was suddenly accosted when Stiles ran after him and grabbed his arm. Derek shoved him off while Stiles pleaded, "Derek, wait!"

"What," Derek growled.

"Come on, they're being idiots," Stiles said. "Hang out with us."

"You don't need me," Derek said bitterly. "You can replace me with that other guy, no one would even notice."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "No one can replace you," he says, punching Derek in the shoulder. "Plus I wanted to call you when we ordered the pizza, but Future You told me that you were going to be on your way soon anyhow."

Derek looked at the open expression on Stiles' face and heard the steady beat of his heart. He felt better, knowing Stiles is telling the truth. Derek wanted to say thank you, he wanted to say so many things, but--

"Stiles! Derek!" Scott was standing in the doorway. "It's your favorite part of the movie, Stiles!"

"I gotta go," Derek said stiffly. He didn't want to intrude, really. He always felt uncomfortable whenever the pack hung out anyways, like they all connected on a certain level and he was just hanging on the periphery.

"But--"

"See you later," Derek had said, heading back to the apartment.

A few hours later Isaac and Cora had returned, and Derek got to listen to Isaac ramble on about how cool the other Derek was, staying after lacrosse practice to play with Isaac, Scott, and Stiles. 

Isaac had tossed a grin at Derek, but he could hear the underlying "How come you've never played lacrosse with us?" between the play-by-plays and admiring looks.

Derek scowled just thinking about it. He would have been perfectly happy to play lacrosse with them, but they had never asked. Derek just assumed they didn't want him around when they were going about their normal lives.

He slashes a few trees with his claws for good measure, before stopping to catch his breath. Derek realizes he's at the shell of his old house at the edge of the Preserve.

Derek takes a seat on the porch, grimacing at the charred walls and the decrepit appearance. He vaguely realizes he also looks like shit, covered in animal blood and clothes torn.

"You know, I never realized how much of this house and its memories I put behind me, but seeing it now again like this makes me glad of all the choices I've made," comes a voice from behind him.

Derek swivels and there he is, the Derek from the future, smirking at him from the doorway.

Derek growls and flashes his eyes at him, extending his fangs. "What are you doing here?" he hisses.

The older man shrugs. "Wanted to talk to you. Plus, I remember this conversation having an impact on me, so I thought it would be pretty important to be here. Of course, the last time I was you, so it's a bit strange, because I don't remember what the other me said exactly, but I guess I'm saying it now, aren't I?"

Derek stares. "What."

He's being grinned at, and it's a goofy look. Derek doesn't like it. He's pretty sure he's being made fun of, and he doesn't like that either.

Derek tries not to think about the ridiculousness of sitting on the porch of his burned out house with another version of himself from the future. They sit in silence for a little while, as the woods start to bustle with familiar chips of crickets and sounds of animals shuffling. The glade in front of the house is still lush with green grass, and the wind picks up clouds of dandelion seeds. It's beautiful, and Derek snorts, remembering yelling at a very young Cora to stop blowing dandelions while he's weeding the lawn.

"Ah, dandelions," the other Derek says. "Remember what a bitch they were whenever we had to do chores?"

Derek grunts in reply. He doesn't really want to bond with...well, himself. 

"It's still a beautiful place. What are you planning to do with it?"

"Tear it down, probably," Derek says. He doesn't want to deal with remembering the fire or any of the other horrifying things that have happened since then.

His older self stares him down after a moment. "You're holding onto all this anger and bitterness, Derek. I know exactly where you are right now, because I was you."

Derek frowns. "And what, you expect me to become like you? Happy and jolly all the time?"

The other Derek laughs. "No, I'm don't expect that. I'm not even 'jolly,' I just--"

"Then what's with the--" Derek contorts his face, mimicking an exaggerated grin.

"It's just being back here, that's all. It's really amusing. Teenage drama, you know."

Derek snorts.

"Look, I know it isn't easy, and it's going to take a long time, but you do deserve good things. You've got a lot of people who care about you. Its not a mistake to let them know that you care for them in return."

Derek stays silent. He regards his future self: older, with laugh lines around his mouth and eyes, silver in his hair, utterly relaxed and at ease with himself. Its strange to think he will one day be this man, who can laugh and crack jokes with the pack and isn't haunted by his past.

"I'm going to show you something," his future self says, pulling a worn wallet out of his pocket. He flips it open to show Derek, and there's a brown-haired girl posing for a prom photo in the photo sleeve. "Ah, that's my daughter," he says proudly. Derek looks on in astonishment, shifting to look closer, but the man pulls away, tsking. "Look at you, grasping at hope for good things in the future. Ah, here we go." He pulls out a photo from the wallet and hands it to Derek.

Derek looks at the image in his hands: a snapshot at a late-night diner, obviously on prom night judging by the formal wear everyone is wearing. All the werewolves have their eyes closed, making the picture rather ridiculous but endearing nonetheless. Scott is wearing a happy smile, Allison nestled in his arms and giving him an indulgent look. Cora is squinting and holding up a plate of pancakes, while Isaac is pointing stupidly at the plate. Lydia is resplendent in a beautiful coral gown, looking like she's holding court. What's surprising about the picture is that Derek is in it, looking slightly out of place in his henley and leather jacket. Derek's eyes are closed, a small smile set on his face, and he's squished between Stiles and Scott, an arm resting on Stiles' shoulder.

Derek let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Everyone in the photo looked so happy, and Derek was a part of it, sitting the center of the photo, a part of the group.

"Your pack," the other man says, regarding him. "You are an important part of their lives, whether you think so or not." He takes the photo back, putting it back in his wallet and stands up.

"That's only a few weeks from now," Derek says incredulously. "How do--"

He gets waved off and answered with a cheerful, "You'll figure it out."

Derek scowls. "You can't just show me these things from the future, like telling me I have a daughter and-- what if I mess it up? What if I marry the wrong person?"

His older self chuckles and says, "You know, it's incredibly satisfying being on this end of the conversation. And I'm not telling you any more, just know that it's going to be okay.  Just relax, and remember what I told you."

Derek raises his arms in confusion and only gets laughed at.

"What time is it?" the other Derek asks.

Derek checks his phone. "Six twenty-eight," he says.

"Ah, well, I should be off. Just--remember what I said, okay? You deserve to be happy. You will be happy. You saw some of the proof, but you've still got to make it happen."

There's an awkward handshake, and Derek watches his future self run off towards town.

Stiles is playing video games in his bedroom and considers going over to Scott's to hang out when he hears a whirring noise that is recognizably not part of the game soundtrack.

"What the--" he whirls around. There's a vortex floating in his bedroom, and its whirling in a dizzying array of colors. Stiles stares at it, transfixed. It's not really doing anything, just floating and spinning erratically. He's got his phone in hand, ready to make the emergency call in case, but then he swears a girl's voice comes out of the vortex.

"Hello?" she calls.

"Hello?" Stiles asks back cautiously.

"Oh, it works!" she says, and suddenly through the vortex tumbles a girl with brown hair. Stiles only has a second before she squeals and hugs him tightly, and then pulls back and laughs delightedly, "Omigod, you're like my age! This is so cool!"

"What? Who are you?" Stiles exclaims. She seems kind of familiar, but he can't put a finger on it.

"CLAUDIA STILINSKI-HALE!" a voice is roaring through the vortex. Another figure comes out of the vortex, and its an older guy.

"Oh, shit," the girl says.

The man is glaring at her angrily, and then he looks at Stiles, whose mouth has fallen open. "Oh, shit," he says.

Stiles stares. "Did you just say Claudia? Like my mom, Claudia? And your last name is Stilinski-Hale?"

"Clauds," the man says, pushing her back in the vortex. "You are so grounded. You know you're not supposed to mess with any of my spells!"

"But I wanted Dad back sooner! I can't have one of you missing my high school graduation! It's important!" the girl--Claudia-- squeals as she disappears into the vortex.

Stiles turns to face the guy, and it's like looking in the mirror, except his hair is longer and he's older and wearing glasses and this is so incredibly cool.

"What's up, Mini-Me," Future Stiles says.

"Dude," Stiles replies. They give each other an enthusiastic high five.

His older self looks around his bedroom fondly and then back at Stiles. "Ah, I guess we're a little ahead on schedule on retrieving Derek," he says.

"Duuude," Stiles says in shock, grabbing the man and shaking him. "I marry Derek. We have a kid. That was her."

"Yeah," the other Stiles drawls. "You weren't supposed to find out."

"Omigod! The time-space continuum! Did we break it?" Stiles exclaims.

Future Stiles shrugs. "Probably not, since we're still standing here. But to be safe, you should probably pretend this didn't happen so you don't change the future too much."

"What?" Stiles shrieks. He's all for protecting the future, and fixed events and stuff, but Derek. Seriously. What is he supposed to do with this knowledge? Stiles feels incredibly warm inside, and that sinking feeling when he learned that Derek gets married in the future has now turned into a fluttery bunch of nerves. "But how do I--and what should I--"

The door bursts open and Future Derek walks in, who frowns at the sight of the two Stiles facing each other.

"What is he doing here? I thought you said at this time the present-day Stiles would be headed over to Scott's."

"Yeah, well, he got interrupted by our daughter. Apparently she was a bit too eager to get you back," Future Stiles says.

"Missed you," Future Derek mutters, pulling the other guy close.

Stiles can't get over this, the way Future Derek wraps up Stiles' future self into an embrace and burrows his face into the other Stiles neck, murmuring in his ear.

Stiles can feel the blood rush into his face as they start kissing each other, and this shouldn't really be so hot, but it is, because its him and Derek and now he's thinking about kissing, too. 

Stiles is saved from further embarrassment when his future self pulls away and notices the whirring of the vortex, which has apparently started spinning faster and flashing in brighter colors. 

"Oh, we gotta go," Future Stiles says, pulling his Derek with him into the vortex. "Look, just don't tell anyone what you know, and don't make any moves too soon," he says.

"What's too soon?" Stiles asks.

"Just wait until after your prom," Derek says. The vortex begins shrinking around them, and Stiles can only see their faces as they turn to each other. "Don't worry," Stiles can hear faintly in Derek's voice, "I don't think he'll change anything for the worse."

The last glimpse Stiles can see inside the vortex is his future face as he winks back and says, "Oh, he might change things for the better."

"What?" Stiles calls, but the vortex is closing around them, and the two time-travellers disappear in a flash of light.

In the hallway of the Stilinski-Hale home, Claudia runs towards her two dads as she hears familiar footsteps, shrieking with delight with their return. She runs past a framed picture on the wall, of one of her favorite photos that shows her favorite aunts and uncles with her parents after their own high school prom. Aunt Lydia looks spectacular as always, and Claudia loves to tease Aunt Cora about her love for pancakes and how Uncle Isaac tolerates it. Aunt Allison and Uncle Scott look really cute in this photo, too. Claudia's favorite part of the photo is how everyone fits in the diner booth around her parents, who are wearing matching tuxedos and have their arms around each other. Derek's eyes are closed here, but his smile reaches from ear to ear, with Stiles' mischevious grin speaking volumes for the state of their touseled hair and undone bowtie, eyes bright and sparkling with hope.