"Today is Scott's first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified."

She passes it down, from mother to child, from father to child, until it ends up in his hands. The story and the cloak just as they where the day they were made.

Scott leaves for ten years and comes back.

Stiles' kid has a tendency to get into fights and possibly has bad taste in friends. Or enemies. Stiles isn't sure yet, but he's pretty sure the other kid's dad is too hot to be human.

Stiles gets kidnapped by crazy hunters. It's super.

They find the baby under a butterfly bush, a sweet smelling buddleja with purple flowers and narrow, green leaves. The baby is dirty, wet and hungry, wrapped in a fur blanket, and this close its squalling is loud enough to wake the dead. -- Or the one where Stiles' mom was a harpy and passed certain genes along.

“Well,” Stiles says, “if they’re going to hunt werewolves, I’m going to hunt them.” It’s a ridiculous statement from a ten-year-old, but he’s obviously one hundred percent sincere. For the first time since the fire, Peter feels life stir inside him, feels purpose. It’s kismet, clearly. He’ll never meet the child he would have had with Olivia. Instead he’s met this boy, this brilliant, determined, cynical child with a world of potential. Peter kneels down in front of him so they’re at eye level. “How do you feel about doing that together?”