Scott rushed down the hospital's corridor, Still close on his heals. "Derek... I've only just received you message."
Scott pulls Derek in for a quick embrace. Followed by Stiles.
"Is she still in labor?" Scott asked with wide, troubling eyes.
Derek nodded, pacing back and forth like a caged wolf—eyes wild, fingers running through his hair. His shirt was rumpled, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and there were dark circles under his eyes from days without sleep. "She's been in labor for twelve hours," he said, voice tight with worry. "Carlisle's in there with her—he said everything's progressing… but she's tired. So damn tired."
Stiles stepped forward, placing a hand on Derek's shoulder—unusually serious for once. "She's Aria," he said firmly. "She'll push through this like she pushed through dying and coming back from the dead."
Derek let out a sharp breath that was almost a laugh—a release of tension—and looked at Stiles like he finally remembered how to breathe. "God... I hope so."
"Is my mom in there with Carlisle too?" Scott voiced another question.
Derek nodded. "Yeah. And Lydia. She and Melissa have been helping out with the birth." He ran a hand over his face, letting out a harsh breath. "It'll be any minute now. I hope so." He added in a desperate tone.
Scott gave him a bracing smile—the kind that makes you want to believe everything will be okay. "It'll be fine," he reassured, "Aria's gonna be good. She's a badass. You know that."
"Well, she kinda have to be sitting up with me." Derek says with a chuckle, rare but not forced.
Stiles and Scott traded grins, feeling a slight tension in the air ease at Derek's laugh.
Scott shook his head, a fond smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. "That you two ended up together is honestly a miracle."
Stiles huffed, crossing his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Their like to feathers to the same tail feather, man, but just at arms length to mirror one another," Scott smiled amused by his own creative expression.
Stiles rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance in the gesture. "That was actually pretty good, dude."
A painful labor cry cuts through the hospital. Derek froze mid-step—head snapping toward the door like he'd been called by instinct alone. His breath caught, hands curling into fists at his sides. "That's her…" he whispered, voice raw with urgency and fear. Without another word, he lunged for the door—but Stiles grabbed his arm just in time.
"Dude! You can't just barge in there!" Stiles warned, voice firm but not unkind. "You gotta let them do their thing!"
"I have to be with her," Derek growled, eyes blazing—not with anger at Stiles, but helplessness clawing up from inside. "She needs me—I know she does—"
Suddenly, Melissa emerged from the room—hair slightly messy but calm-eyed—holding a firm hand up to stop them. "She's asking for you," she said, tired smile touching her lips.
Derek didn't hesitate. He rushed past Melissa into the delivery room—a wave of emotion hitting him as soon as he saw Aria. Sweat-slicked hair plastered to her temples. Her face flushed and strained… yet still beautiful—the fire behind her gaze never dimmed despite exhaustion.
Carlisle stood beside her—steady as ever—and Lydia held one of Aria's hands while whispering something low and grounding. But when Aria turned her head and saw Derek—her pained expression softened instantly. A weak smile curled at the corners of trembling lips. "...Took you long enough…" she managed through gritted teeth between contractions.
Derek crossed to her side in two strides, dropping down beside the bed—he kissed both cheeks without hesitation before taking both of Aria's hands gently into his own big ones. "I'm here," he said fiercely, forehead pressing against hers briefly. "I'm not leaving."
"Good, because I'll kick you so hard that you won't recognize you front from your behind," she weakly cracked a joke.
Derek let out a broken laugh—half sob, half relief—as he brushed damp strands of hair from her forehead. "Promises, promises," he murmured, voice thick with love and something close to awe. "You're the one who could destroy me without lifting a finger."
Another contraction hit—Aria's grip on his hands tightened like iron, a sharp gasp escaping her as she arched slightly into the pain. Her breath came in short bursts.
"Easy… easy…" Derek soothed, staying right in front of her eyes, locking their gaze together. "I've got you. Just breathe—come on, look at me."
She did—not without effort—but she did.
Lydia leaned back slightly, making space for him.
Carlisle glanced up from between Aria's legs and nodded slowly.
"It's time," he said calmly but with quiet authority. "The baby is crowning. Give me another push," Carlisle authorized. But as soon as the head was out, worry edged his complexion. "Don't push... Don't push... Whatever you do, do not push..."
Derek's heart lurched at the sound in Carlisle's voice—a sudden chill running up his spine. Concern etched deep on his face, he held on to Aria as she groaned through another contraction. "What's wrong?" he asked urgently, eyes locked on Carlisle's face. "What is it?"
"The cord is around the neck, if she push she could potentially strangle the baby."
The room turned to ice.
Derek's breath caught—his eyes darting between Carlisle and Aria, pulse roaring in his ears. "Don't push," he repeated softly, now gripping Aria's hands tighter, voice trembling but firm. "Just hold on… just breathe through it. You can do this. I'm right here."
Aria panted—face twisted in pain and fear, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. "I… I can't—I need to push…" she gasped, body instinctively fighting against the restraint.
"I know," Derek whispered, pressing his forehead to hers again. "But not yet. Please, baby… not yet."
Carlisle worked with swift precision—fingers gently maneuvering under the sterile drape, his expression calm but focused like a surgeon threading a needle.
A long second passed.
Then another.
Everyone held their breath—including Stiles and Scott, who had somehow slipped into the doorway without anyone noticing.
And then—
Carlisle exhaled slowly. "Alright…" he said quietly, "the cord is loose. The path is clear." He looked up at Aria with steady reassurance in his golden eyes. "You may push now."
A guttural noise escaped from her lips as she pushed, trying hard not to make a sound, but failed towards the end.
Carlisle moved fast—fingers working carefully beneath the baby's neck. "Almost… almost…"
The room felt like it had stopped breathing.
Aria panted—face glistening with sweat, chest heaving—but her eyes were wide, filled with fear and effort. Derek stayed right in front of her, whispering encouragement through clenched teeth.
"You're doing great... just hold on… hold on!"
And then—A soft cry. Small. Faint at first—but undeniably alive. The baby was out. Derek gasped—and for a second he thought his heart had stopped. His eyes darted to Carlisle as relief crashed over him like a tidal wave.
"He's okay," Carlisle said softly, lifting the tiny form gently—blood-slick and squirming but breathing. "He's okay." Carlisle wrapped a clean hospital towel around the baby boy and placed the infant in Aria's hands.
Aria smiled down at the little man in her arms. He instantly stopped wailing when he felt the heat of his mother's chest. She looked up at Derek, he leaned in and gave Aria a quick peck on her lips. Quick but filled with affection.
Aria looks back down at the now snoozing boy. "Welcome to Beacon Hills... Elliott Hale..."