triskehale (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
triskehale) wrote2017-09-26 04:41 pm
triskehale) wrote2017-09-26 04:41 pm
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Progress on the restaurant is far more slow going than it would have been if Derek had hired an actual construction crew to do it, but he hasn't. He brings in specialists for bigger jobs like plumbing and wiring, and has the foundation and skeletal structure inspected before building on it, but he enjoys doing the bulk of the work himself, along with the ragtag crew he's assembled. Derek is good at stuff like this, and it makes him feel closer to his dad. He taught Derek everything he knew while they built an expansion together on the house the summer that Derek was fifteen. It was just before he met Paige, and sort of his last completely innocent memories before his life started to go to shit.
It's better now, here in Darrow. Even with the way people leave him, it's better here. He howls at night sometimes, for Kate and Newt and Helen and everyone he's lost, but it's still better.
The restaurant is taking shape under his own hands, and Derek gets to hear his dad's steady, warm tone laying out instructions in the back of his mind as he goes. It takes his mind off of the more painful things, and he focuses on the memories. It used to be so painful to think about all the people he's lost, more painful still to talk about them, but he's learned that it's the memories that keep them all alive.
Everyone that Derek has hired, aside from the specialists that come in and out, knows that Derek is a wolf. They don't bat an eye when he lifts a whole bundle of lumber without so much as a grunt, or hefts the frame of an entire wall into place by himself, or misses with a hammer and crushes his thumb only to have it heal by the time the nail can even turn purple. Barry, on the other hand, still keeps his secret identity safely under wraps. Derek knows of his desire to help, and senses the occasional frustration that he puts out when he forces himself to work at human speed when he pitches in.
Tonight he sends everyone home around six, just as pink hues are starting to streak up from the horizon, and by the time Derek has the door shut with them locked alone inside the empty shell of the restaurant, Barry has the entire concrete floor swept with all the dust and nails in a neat little pile in the corner. Derek huffs and comes over to kiss him, breathing in the scent of him and new wood and still drying tile grout.
"Hungry?" Derek asks as his own stomach growls, and he wipes a bit of drywall dust from Barry's brow with the pad of his thumb. "You better take me up on my dinner offer, because I'm putting you to work tonight."
It's better now, here in Darrow. Even with the way people leave him, it's better here. He howls at night sometimes, for Kate and Newt and Helen and everyone he's lost, but it's still better.
The restaurant is taking shape under his own hands, and Derek gets to hear his dad's steady, warm tone laying out instructions in the back of his mind as he goes. It takes his mind off of the more painful things, and he focuses on the memories. It used to be so painful to think about all the people he's lost, more painful still to talk about them, but he's learned that it's the memories that keep them all alive.
Everyone that Derek has hired, aside from the specialists that come in and out, knows that Derek is a wolf. They don't bat an eye when he lifts a whole bundle of lumber without so much as a grunt, or hefts the frame of an entire wall into place by himself, or misses with a hammer and crushes his thumb only to have it heal by the time the nail can even turn purple. Barry, on the other hand, still keeps his secret identity safely under wraps. Derek knows of his desire to help, and senses the occasional frustration that he puts out when he forces himself to work at human speed when he pitches in.
Tonight he sends everyone home around six, just as pink hues are starting to streak up from the horizon, and by the time Derek has the door shut with them locked alone inside the empty shell of the restaurant, Barry has the entire concrete floor swept with all the dust and nails in a neat little pile in the corner. Derek huffs and comes over to kiss him, breathing in the scent of him and new wood and still drying tile grout.
"Hungry?" Derek asks as his own stomach growls, and he wipes a bit of drywall dust from Barry's brow with the pad of his thumb. "You better take me up on my dinner offer, because I'm putting you to work tonight."