the wolves all cry

It's been so long since Derek has been to his building in the warehouse district that it's a surprise when his phone alerts him that the alarm is going off. Thankfully he's close by and takes off at a run, only to get inside and realize that the alarm was tripped by a raccoon in the hall. It shrieks when it sees Derek and then scurries off, and he rolls his eyes before heading upstairs just to check on things.

The loft is just as he left it so long ago, if perhaps a little dusty. Purple sheets still tucked into the bed near the windows, exercise equipment tucked into one corner, and computers sitting silent on the desk Barry built in about five seconds or less. Most notable, of course, is the Flash suit, and the Alpha suit next to it. They're hung along a wall like they're just waiting to be pulled back on, and Derek's mouth quirks in a small smile.

Seeing the Flash suit doesn't feel like a gut punch anymore. Yes, it makes him wistful and sad, but it's been long enough that the good memories outweigh the grief. The suit doesn't even smell like Barry anymore, not really, and Derek runs his fingertips along the sleeve before heaving a sigh and looking around. He has no use for this place anymore, not really, and now it just sits here as a shrine to all he's lost. Barry, Beacon Hills, and his brief career as a superhero's sidekick.

Maybe he should pack the suits up and take them home, and sell the whole place, even if it is from home. It's something to think about, anyway, and Derek picks up his domino mask with a wry smile, looking down at it in his palm before putting in the pocket of his leather coat.

After making sure all the alarms are set, Derek leaves the loft and slides the door shut before locking it and heading back downstairs. The same fat raccoon is still cowering in a corner, and Derek doesn't even bother trying to make it leave. He's pretty sure that it's pregnant and if it can make a safe place somewhere on this shitty ground floor, he's fine with that.

He slips back into the afternoon sunshine and turns to lock the door behind him, jiggling the key and yanking it out when it sticks. Walking back a few steps, he puts his hands on his hips and looks up at the building with a sigh. "Who would even want this piece of crap?"

Derek isn't sure what led to him standing in front of David and Patrick's store at closing time. He had been at Semele's and after about his third glass of wolfsbane ale, Kira had cut him off. This isn't like you, she had said, but that was kind of the point.

For just a little while, he wanted to not be himself.

After being gently nudged out of his own bar by a turquoise-haired girl half his size, Derek had just sort of wandered. He isn't drunk, not really, but there is a pleasant sort of buzz that makes his irises crackle red as the poison works its way through his system. All he knows is that he doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts, and the people he can turn to are dwindling either because it's gotten all complicated or they keep fucking disappearing.

So, Rose Apothecary it is. David and Patrick are kind to him. They know he's a wolf but they don't know about how he got his whole family killed because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. They don't know about how he found half of his sister's body because he wasn't there to protect her, or how much of a failure he is as an alpha. They don't know how broken he is, or how much he's controlled by some rock in the sky a million miles away.

They're normal, David and Patrick. Not in a boring way but in a way that he has craved for most of his life. They're in love. They're content. He wants to bury his face in their necks and breathe it all in and just bask in it for a little while, this thing he'll never have.

He wants to be with his friends.

He's just stepping up to the door as David is moving to lock it on the other side, and Derek gives him a little wave before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, unsure of what to say. He doesn't want to be alone, but he doesn't want to say that out loud.

"Hey," he says through the glass. "You guys busy?"

Derek hates being forced to acknowledge his feelings, especially out loud to another person, so after his fight with Neil he's left feeling pretty-- well, shitty. He doesn't want to be alone in the house, and he tries to think of the most wholesome, serene sort of joy imaginable in the city.

There's only one answer, so after shooting a text to Magnus to make sure it's a good time, Derek bakes some mini cupcakes and heads over. He doesn't bake much, but he did work closely with Bitty on the opening of the dessert bar at the restaurant, so he did learn a few things. They're not as nice to look at as Bitty's creations, but Derek thinks he'd be proud.

Within the hour, he's holding a plastic container in one hand while knocking on Magnus and Alec's door with the other. He can hear a shrieking giggle from Catarina somewhere inside, and he smiles for what feels like the first time in days.

Derek has dealt with super moons, and lunar eclipses, but never both at once. He has the vague hope that maybe the two will cancel each other out, but he doubts it. All day he's felt just a little off, like he keeps missing a step. By the afternoon he finds it hard to concentrate, and when he starts getting irritable he leaves the restaurant and heads home.

Not sure what's going to happen tonight, he texts to Barry, even though Derek is sure that his uncertainty isn't really a secret.

By the time he gets home, the sun is setting and Derek feels an itch under his skin, like he needs to shift and run. He ignores it because if he does lose his powers, he doesn't want to be naked and in the middle of the woods when it happens.

Instead he climbs easily up onto the roof of the cabin and sits down, resting his arms on his bent knees as he stares up at the moon. It's so big, so bright, and Derek tips his head back to let out a quiet howl more out of respect than anything else.

Despite his best efforts, Derek goes through clothes at a much faster rate than he'd like. It's a problem shared by all werewolves, he imagines. Especially the full shift ones. How he's managed to hang on to his wallet and keys without losing them, he'll never know.

His unique predicament means that he has to go shopping more often than he'd like. He's running low on shirts that are free of rips and stains, same goes for his jeans, so he heads out to replenish his stock. He hates the mall and department stores, so he finds himself at an independent shop somewhere downtown. It costs a little more, but it's worth it not to deal with the crowds.

He has a few shirts and pants slung over one arm and he's fingering the lapel of a dinner jacket, wondering whether or not he needs more formal clothes. He doesn't wear them often, but the restaurant opening is coming up soon and he wants to throw a party for it. Derek Hale, willingly wanting to throw a party and invite people into his space. If only the people from Beacon Hills could see him now.

The door opens and Derek catches the scent of another werewolf immediately. Instinctively, he goes a little tense until he quickly realizes that's it's one that he recognizes. He spins slowly on his heel and raises an eyebrow at Biffy. "Fancy meeting you here."

It doesn't take Derek long to discover the building. He can smell it the second he nears downtown, and he heads straight for with a gnawing horror growing in the pit of his stomach. There's nothing from Beacon Hills left in Darrow except for him, and he doesn't know what to make of a part of his past suddenly being here now.

The building looks as he remembered, run down and nondescript. If passersby notice that there's a giant new building where there wasn't one the day before, they're not letting onto it. This is the warehouse district, anyway. People around here keep their heads down more than usual.

Derek remembers looking at the loft and paying cash for the whole building shortly before he was brought to Darrow. He never even really settled in, but once he reaches the top floor of the building there's a cacophony of scents to tell him that the building was brought from farther along than Derek remembers. There's his own blood, so much of his own blood, and the blood of others. Some familiar, some not. There are faint traces of Peter and Malia and something else that smells vaguely familiar, and Derek's heart clenches when he thinks that it might be Cora.

Awful things happened here. Terrible things. Derek isn't really surprised. It's Beacon Hills, after all.

He spends a while studying the meager contents of the loft, eyes lingering on the bed in the middle of the room. It's luxurious purple bedding looks out of place against everything else, and Derek thinks maybe that was the point. Perhaps he tried to make a small oasis for himself, for however good it did.

There's a very high-tech and expensive alarm system set up that seems to still be functional and Derek punches in the code without thinking much about it, because he knows what he would have made it. Laura's birthday.

He isn't sure why the city chose to give him this place now, or what it's trying to accomplish. It's a vault of terrible things that Derek can't even remember, but it's also a reminder of how far he's come. Not so long ago, he was ready to call this cold and empty place home. Now he can't even imagine living here.

The large glass windows do give a pretty good view of the city, and Derek spends some time thinking to himself as he stares out of them. An idea starts to form, and he smiles to himself.

Live here? Not a chance. But that doesn't mean that it can't serve a purpose.

He doesn't tell Barry, instead keeping the building a secret until the evening of Barry's birthday, where after a very nice meal, Derek suggests that they take a walk. He can feel Barry shooting suspicious glances his way as they approach the warehouse district, but he ignores them.

"Decent steak, right?" Derek says, fiddling with the key in his pocket as they walk. "I thought it was good."

Derek is on a run through the woods, following a trail that he wore into the earth himself. He could follow it with his eyes closed, which is why he's so surprised to suddenly find it blocked by a strange, squat little cabin that he couldn't see or smell until he was suddenly right in front of it. He has to skid to a halt to avoid crashing into the side of it, and he cautiously walks around to the front of the small structure. It looks a little like something out of a fairytale, like a place that shouldn't exist outside the pages of a children's book.

This is Darrow, so it isn't like a building suddenly showing up is anything particularly out of the ordinary, but Derek is annoyed to find it so close to what the wolf considers his territory, blocking the path that he made himself. He definitely isn't about to inspect it closer, no matter how piqued his curiosity may be, but as soon as he turns away from it he hears a voice calling for help from within. It sounds like a child and while it's suspicious, Derek finds that he can't ignore it.

It doesn't occur to him to let anyone know where he is as he climbs up onto the porch. The place smells like cookies and peppermint and he breathes in deeply as he steps over the threshold. Inside there's no child in need, nothing at all except for a sensation like cool water running down his body and washing away all of his memories, clearing his mind of everything he knows, everyone he loves.

A growl comes up from his throat as he feels his face shift into his beta form, eyes a blazing red as his memories are replaced with something new. He tries, but he can't shift back. He's stuck like this, the cruel result of an enchantress' curse. His feet take him back through the woods to the cursed summer chateau where he's meant to spend the rest of his days with dwindling hope that it will ever be broken.

The chateau is surrounded by an eternal winter and as soon as Derek steps into the snow, vines close the opening behind him and he knows that he won't be able to leave again. He isn't sure how he even got out in the first place, but now he's home.

"There you are, sir!" Derek looks over at the tall, narrow bookcase that serves as the head of household as it toddles over to him, rocking back and forth on worn corners as the small books that serve as its eyes widen in surprise. "What is it that you're wearing? Those are not clothes befitting a prince. My word, where did you even find them? Up to the bedroom with you. Change for dinner, young man."

Derek rolls his eyes with a growl, claws clicking over the ornate doorknob as he lets himself inside. The house is large and quiet, and Derek stares up at the ornate staircase as he heaves a weary sigh. He's been here for years, cursed to be stuck in this form, and time is running out for someone to come and break the spell.

Hello lovely people,

I just wanted to apologize for my slowness as of late. I'm dealing with some health stuff that leaves me with very little energy, so by the time I get home from work I'm usually exhausted for the rest of the night. I really, really want to tag so it's definitely not a lack of desire. I really appreciate your patience and hope to get back up to speed soon.

Also, I'm heading up to Seattle for ECCC on Wednesday morning and won't be back until Saturday night. I'm nervous due to the aforementioned lack of energy, but I'm excited! I'm going to meet the creator of Jack and Bitty's canon! *____*

My goal is to return all my tags before I leave. If something is too old and you would rather drop it I totally understand, but I do love all my threads right now. Thanks guys.

♥

Carly
-for Derek, Rapunzel, Kara, and Jack