“Somebody threatened to shoot me once. That was pretty gangster, I guess. I don’t know how serious he was, but he said he was going to go home and get his gun and shoot me. And then I ran like a coward, which is not very gangster.”
“But why would Peter steal a baby?” Stiles demands, not without rising hysteria.
“I don’t know!” Scott shouts back. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!”
The baby in Scott’s arms tries to match his voice’s volume to Scott’s, his cries steadily growing louder. Scott looks down at it desperately, tries to cover its mouth with his fingers. The baby has other ideas, though, and immediately begins to suck on them, gnawing on them with its fleshy gums and grinning as big as he can manage around them.
“Oh, damn,” Stiles says on a breath. “That’s really - Scott we gotta get rid of this thing.”
“We can’t do that!” Scott hisses. “It - it belongs to someone. It has a family, somewhere. I think.”
The baby’s mouth is wet with drool; it continues to gnaw without a care in the world. Stiles carefully avoids looking at it. Looking at it is a fast track to not getting shit done, he thinks. He’s only eighteen years old. Baby mania is not a part of his ten-year plan, okay?
“At least we have him now, right?” Scott asks, though he doesn’t sound totally convinced. “I mean, better us than Peter, right?”
They’re quiet for a few minutes, both of them watching the baby as it sucks on Scott’s fingers and tries to play with his hand, its tiny little fists waving in the air and its fingers curling around air.
“Huh,” Stiles says.
“I,” Scott says, then swallows. “This isn’t so -“
He cuts himself off with a pained shout, snatches his fingers from the infant’s mouth, and stares - horrified - at the already-healing holes on his fingers.
“It bit me!” Scott cries. “It doesn’t even have teeth how did it bite me?”
The baby growls at him, then.
“Uh, dude?” Stiles says. “Check the fangs.”
Sure enough, the baby’s sporting half-inch long fangs and blazing blue beta eyes. It’s little claws are out, trying to claw at Scott’s arm in an attempt to get Scott’s fingers back.
“Call Derek,” Scott hisses. “Call Derek right now.”
Stiles laughs mockingly even as he’s scrambling to get his phone out of his pocket. “Oh my god, I can’t wait to see how this goes.”