Perigee

Chapter 11

Mom applied a warm rag to the bite marks on Stiles’ back and shoulder. Guilt tore through me as he winced. I had to look away. The skin was jagged and the wounds looked deep. “We just need to keep it clean and covered. It’ll heal on its own… you did surprisingly little damage,” she said. “And considering… the fact that this was all that happened, you two got lucky.”

 That didn’t help my guilt even though I’m sure she thought it would. “How are you guys feeling now?” Uncle Peter asked.

 “I can think normally,” Stiles replied. “That’s a relief.”

 “I hurt my Mate,” I said softly.

 “Derek, you promised…” Stiles whispered. “We knew the risks…”

 “And I told you that was a promise that I couldn’t keep,” I replied.

 Mom looked up from her task for just a moment and stared into my eyes. “Derek… accidents like this can happen. You can’t beat yourself up for it. And compared to what could have happened… this really isn’t bad.”

 “Where’s Dad?” I asked. I wanted to talk to him… to see if this was really true or if it was just a case of them trying to calm me down.

 “He’s at the lumber yard.”

 “Why?”

 “You honestly expect him not to build a ton of stuff for the newest addition to our family?” Uncle Peter replied with a laugh. “He’s already sketched out the plans for a cradle and a changing table.”

 “And he’ll tell you the exact same thing we are!” Mom interjected. She knew me too well.

 I watched Stiles’ face as mom applied medicated creams to his wound. The pressure as mom rubbed it into his skin caused Stiles to cry out in pain. Immediately his eyes shot to me, afraid of my reaction. I felt an ache in my chest. “Derek… it’s not that bad.” 

“Bull shit!”

 ****************************

 Stiles is beginning to show. The wound on his shoulder had healed, but there was a scar. Every time I saw it, it reminded me of the dangers of losing control.

 There were moments when it seemed like Laura was more excited about our baby than I was… which was saying something. She had already amassed a huge collection of baby items and was becoming somewhat of an unstoppable force. We were running out of room to put everything.

 Dad had already built a huge crib with ornate decorations and was in the process of painting it. The skeleton of the changing table he was building sat in the shed.

 Stiles laid in bed and I alongside him, my face near his belly. “How will we figure out if it’s a boy or a girl?” I asked.

 “I don’t know… I guess we’ll just have to be surprised,” he replied.

 I rubbed his belly. “Have you thought about names?”

 “Actually no,” he replied. “The only names I know are those of your family members. There are very few names I remember from my world…”

 “Well, of the few… what are they?”

 Stiles thought for a moment. “Well, there’s the name Calix for boys…”

 “I like it,” I whispered. “I like the name Selene for a girl.”

 “Me, too.”

 Kissing his abdomen, I asked, “Are you a Calix or a Selene?”