"We'll start off with something small," Derek says with a quiet laugh, feeling lighter now that Thomas had eased a worry that he wasn't even consciously aware of. He's still so used to how it was in Beacon Hills, and him being important only because of what he could provide, rather than who he was.

Sometimes it's hard to remember that he's been in Darrow a long longer than he was in Beacon Hills, after Laura died. Those few months seemed to last a lifetime. And then sometimes he feels guilty for settling into Darrow so much better than he did back home. There are people here that are trapped and desperate to get out and go home, and it's not that Derek likes being stuck here against his will, but he knows that it's better here. For him, at least.

"But I am determined to be a better cook than someone named Frypan," Derek says with a roll of his eyes, gracefully rolling backwards to lay on the rock. It's flat and smooth, warm against his back in a pleasant way, and he lets out a content sigh.