triskehale | thanksgiving is, after all, a word of action [set on 11/26]

thanksgiving is, after all, a word of action [set on 11/26]

Thanksgivings in the Hale house used to be quite the big deal. Feeding over a dozen werewolves, many of them teenagers was no easy feat. Derek loved all the chaos, and he helped out in the kitchen since he was old enough to stand on a step stool and reach the counter.

The first year after everyone died, he and Laura each got a rotisserie chicken and some biscuits, trying to hang on to some semblance of tradition, but the food tasted like ash. Laura went to bed early, and Derek pretended not to hear her cry. They stopped trying to do anything for the holiday after that.

It's been almost a decade since that disastrous attempt, and a few months ago Derek decided that he wanted to try again. While Laura and the rest of his family will always be the cause of this gnawing ache in his heart, Derek has a new family here in Darrow. He has so many people that matter to him, and care about him. It's more than Derek deserves, or ever thought that he would get, but he's grateful. He's thankful.

So he decides that he's going to do his best to put on a Thanksgiving of his own, and invite his new ragtag sort of pack. His new family.

The invitations go out and on the big day, Derek arrives at Semele's just after dawn. He puts two giant turkeys in the oven and quickly sets up the long table and chairs in the middle of the bar. With each chair he places, Derek marvels over just how many people he has in his life. It's astounding to him, and it's the perfect day to show his gratitude.

And then, all that's left to do is cook. And cook, and cook some more. If he's lucky, he'll have time to go shower and put on something nice before all his guests arrive.

[Hale pack Thanksgiving! Treat this as a gathering post. Tag in, tag around, give thanks! ♥]

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Derek has a plate full of different slivers of pie and other desserts, along with a heaping portion of Oliver's sweet potatoes. They're just right, sweet and tender and glazed with brown sugar, and he's had about three helpings.

"This is really good," Derek says as he sits down next to Oliver and pours himself some cider. "I'm glad you guys could make it."

He hasn't really seen Oliver since they were stuck in that other place, since he's been keeping to himself as well, and he hopes that tonight can help bring everyone back together, and they can try and move on. It's a little stupidly optimistic, but having a full belly and being surrounded by friends makes him a little sappy.

Derek is glad to see Allison. They haven't spent much time together lately, and he hasn't seen her since before he was stuck in that other Darrow. There's a flash of something angry, just because of the image of Kate taunting him so fresh in his mind, but he pushes it aside. Allison is not her aunt, and she is so much more than her last name.

She's keeping to herself for the most part, and Derek wanders over to her after awhile. "Hey. Are you having a good time?"

Luke is part of the reason that Derek made yet another turkey, with the other reason being Derek himself. Luke seems to be on par with him when it comes to appetite, and he didn't want anyone leaving the bar hungry, even the wolves.

Derek is stuffed by the time he finally stops eating, and he still goes to fill a new plate with dessert before he drops into a seat next to Luke. He looks over at Luke's plate with a smirk. "Getting your fill?"

Derek had taken the appetites of Luke, Fili, and Kili into account when planning the menu, and he's glad to see that everyone has eaten their fill and then some, with plenty leftover, so Derek is pretty pleased.

Everyone is sampling the alcohol Derek brought, and he is satisfied enough that everything is going well that he pours himself a glass of wolfsbane ale from the box in his office. He'll have to keep the glass in his hand until it's gone, considering that it's poisonous to humans, but he doesn't think it'll last too long anyway.

"Two werewolves and two dwarves at one meal and there's still food left," Derek says as he sits down. "It's a Thanksgiving miracle."

"It's a pretty good one," Derek says as he steps up next to her with a glass of wine in his hand, just after making sure there was so crumbs or whipped cream in his beard after he demolished about half of a pie.

"Thanks for coming," Derek tells her with a warm smile, inclining his head in greeting. "Did you get enough food?"

He's already said hello to Kate, so Derek grabs his own plate and steps up next to Newt and looks over the spread. "Had to say hi to the turkey before me, huh?"

Derek gives him a teasing smirk and reaches for the turkey fork. He saw Newt at Diwali, but didn't really get much of a chance to talk to him. It was too soon after getting back from that other place, but now he's feeling better. Being surrounded by people he cares about after doing something that he enjoys all day certainly helps. "I'm glad that you guys could make it."

Derek isn't used to playing the host, and he isn't sure how well of a job he's doing. He's doing his best and enjoying himself immensely, and he grabs yet another piece of pit before sitting down next to Felicity.

"Thanks for coming," Derek tells her with a smile. "That sweet potato thing you guys brought was really good."

"Probably more than my fill," Thomas remarked with a shake of his head. He didn't usually tend to go overboard but the food had smelled so good and he'd been hungry so he'd treated himself. So far, the only protest his stomach was giving him was the overwhelming feeling of being full.

"Everything was really good," Thomas complimented with a nod. If he hadn't been here, he probably would have stayed in his apartment with a pizza or maybe a sandwich. The holiday would have passed quietly and Thomas would have treated it like any other day.

"Hey, you don't know if I'm going to explode. Don't tell me how I feel," Kate answers, totally indignant and yet somehow not at all, all at the same time. She flops down into a nearby chair and lets out a huge exhale and although she definitely doesn't want to be a werewolf, because seriously, there's enough hair a girl has to get rid of to begin with, she has to admit that a werewolf metabolism sounds pretty great.

"Oh my god, two whole pies," she echoes, looking at him with her eyebrows arched. "I mean, you should, given that your cute little friend totally made them to impress you."

"It was gross," Kate agrees. "His knuckles were all greasy and there was this big grease stain on the wall where he'd thrown the turducken, but my mom, being like, totally cool somehow, didn't even transition or anything. She just like... I don't know, passed the green beans or something."

And it wasn't better, not by any means. Max wasn't magically made happier or less stressed, her mom hadn't suddenly been cured. Kate's own life had still been all up in the air, but somehow it had been simpler. Their life was exactly what it was and no amount of freaking out would ever change that.

"And the next day they left," she says. "I was left with my brother Marshall and they went off and hopefully everything got worked out. I don't know what happened to them next, that's where my memories sort of just cut off."

At this moment, Kate's just really glad Newt hadn't been this seriously obtuse. Or maybe he would have been and she just hadn't given him the chance to doubt her intentions, which is fine, but she's pretty sure all this dancing around feelings would have driven her totally up the wall. Not that she's annoyed by any of this, really, it's totally not her place to be annoyed by it, but she also doesn't understand how he doesn't get it. That's fine, too, though. She's just going to shove him in the right direction.

"Do you know Derek? Like, at all?" she asks. "Yeah, so he's had physical relationships with other people, but that's just fucking. Tab B in Slot B, lather, rinse, repeat. I mean, don't get me wrong, fucking is awesome, but if you think for a second that's all Derek wants out of life, then you're crazy. How could you be what he wants? Answer me one simple question and that'll be the only answer you'll ever need. Do you care about him?"

She doesn't totally know what it is, if it's the atmosphere of the party, if it's the fact that it's Thanksgiving and she's once again spending it without any of her biological family here, if it's the conversation she'd had earlier with Eric or what, but she catches sight of Newt across the bar and she's suddenly so intensely grateful for everything he is to her that she finds herself having to stare down at her plate of pie in her hands for a few minutes until her vision clears.

Then she's striding across the room with a second plate of pie that she holds out to Newt as soon as she's close enough.

"Thank you for being you," she says and it's said with a little grin, something to take the edge off just how serious that might otherwise sound. While she and Newt have no problems at all telling each other how in love they are, how happy they are, there's something about being thankful for him -- even at Thanksgiving -- in a room full of people that's just a touch too serious for her. But she needs to say it. Because she is.

"I had ten days of barely eating enough I need to make up for," Luke answers, even though he and Reid have been back for more than two weeks now and he's put most of the weight back on that he'd lost while eating so little in that other version of Darrow. He grins as he says it, though, making it clear it's an excuse he knows he doesn't need, not around Derek, who eats just as much as he does. It's one thing Luke has always rather found to be a bit of a pain about being a werewolf, the sheer amount of calories he needs to consume in order to maintain a steady weight. It's certainly more expensive than eating used to be, but he's gotten used to it after twenty years.

"It's all delicious," he says, smiling over at Derek. "You've really outdone yourself."

"Well, hopefully someone decided to paint over the grease stain or something," Thomas joked. "Or I guess it might have made for an interesting story whenever you had people over. Here's the living room, here's the dining room, here's the big stain leftover from when my dad through meat at the wall."

For a second, Thomas wished he had a story like that. He wished he remembered something ridiculous about his father that he could share. Maybe he'd fallen into a pool once or put a whole in the wall while trying to hammer a nail. All he had was the memory of his father screaming and ranting, threatening his mother while in the grips of the Flare.

"Does it bother you not to know?" Thomas wondered. "Or is it something that you've gotten used to over time?"

He's chirping me, I know, and it's easy to fall into it, my smile unwavering as he eats his mashed potatoes.

"You know darn well that's not what I'm sayin'," I tell him, taking a bite of my green beans as I knock my knee against his lightly. "I'm glad you could make it. Are you having a nice time so far?"

As constant as Derek's presence seems to be these days, I still get a little thrill all through me when I feel him stepping in close. It's ridiculous, of course. It's hard not to think of my conversation with Kate, but despite what she'd said, I still can't imagine Derek could ever want me the way I do him. Even when he smiles at me like that.

I finish pouring myself a beer -- only my third of the entire day so I'm nowhere near drunk -- before I turn to face him, hip propped against the edge of the bar.

"More than," I tell him, laughing as I pat my belly. "I don't think I'm likely to eat again for days." I take a sip of my drink, still smiling at him. "It was a really really nice dinner; the turkey was amazing. Did you have a nice time?"

I can feel my face going hot as I try desperately not to think about Derek's Tab B and then even hotter at her question. It still feels so embarrassing to answer and I keep my head ducked, frowning down at my hands before I nod.

"It's stupid," I tell her, grimacing when I look up to meet her eyes again. "I've never. It's stupid but I think..."

With a sigh, I shake my head. This isn't something I can or should share with Kate. Plus, I have the feeling she already knows and I don't need to feel any more embarrassed than I do already. So instead I swallow and shake my head. "I do. I just... I want him to be happy. Especially after everything we saw a few weeks ago, all those terrible things we saw. He... he deserves to be happy."

I nod, swallowing down a bite of pie before answering. "Pretty much. I'm used to a few less people, but yeah. It's all food, family, and friends. But mostly food."

The amount of people here almost makes up for how many Thanksgivings I won't be attending this year. Usually mom and I visit family, then Friday is when we head to Casey's and have another dinner there, and there used to be a time when we'd go next door to Wesley's and spend an hour or so with them. I miss it all. I have plenty of friends here, but that doesn't stop me from being almost sick with how much I want to be back home.

"Rude!" I exclaim, though the word doesn't really translate well around a mouthful of stuffing. Glaring at Neil will have to do until I swallow, and I resist the urge to stab him with my fork. It's not a very thankful gesture.

"Do you want to die?" I ask, shifting my plate away from him. "Do you know how little I ate today just so I could enjoy this? Don't a girl's Thanksgiving plate, McCormick."

"Like I'd miss it," I tell Derek. I try to keep it light, maybe even throw in a scoff, but the words come out completely sincere. Pretty much everyone I know is somehow within Derek's circle as well, and being surrounded by warmth and friends makes up for the family I won't be seeing. I haven't missed my mom this much since I went to science camp.

I look over at his plate, glad to see he's finally stopped fussing and doing the whole good host thing. I know how much he's worked on this all day. If anyone deserves to eat in peace right now, it's Derek. "I hope you plan on staying here until your plate's full. If you get up to help someone, I will tie you down until you finish."

Hild gave him a mildly perturbed look when he sent her earring swinging, batting his hand away as one would shoo a fly. That annoyance faded in the second it took for him to settle beside her. Having the understanding company of so many friends, who did not push her to speak when she did not wish to and would sit quietly beside her, helped Hild feel comfortable, safe. It made speaking less scary. For one day.

She rested her head on Neil's thin shoulder, groaning softly as she rubbed at her stomach.

Hild had already spent much of the morning in Derek's company, helping with the others to prepare for the feast, but still she gravitated to him. She was careful not to cling too much. He was host and all the people here were his friends to some degree. He had to greet and speak with them all, make sure they felt comfortable. But even two weeks removed from that dark place, Hild still felt safest near Derek.

She snuck quietly to his side when he was free, knowing he would sense her despite her attempt at being unobtrusive. Hild slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze.

Hild should not have gotten as much amusement as she had from the number of men in the kitchen today. She knew that things were different in Darrow, people were different in their likes and desires. But still when she thought of a feast, she thought of women in the kitchen, bustling everywhere, knowing exactly what they were about and telling others what they were about, barely pausing to hit a serving boy who tried to sneak a bite of food with a spoon. She had gotten used to the men moving around her, preparing dishes, but Thomas had stood out, looking somewhat confused. She had laughed, but only twice.

She approached him now with a cup of coffee in each hand. The busy day and the glut of food made her sleepy, but she found that a hot liquid after a meal, coffee or tea, helped her feel more comfortable. There might have also been something labeled Bailey's Irish Cream in the coffee, but it mostly looked and tasted like simple cream.

A brow raised in question, Hild offered out one cup to Thomas and nodded at the seat beside him, asking if she could join.

There was a comfort in Dean. Beyond his protective nature, how he had dashed into the fray to save her without hesitation, how he gave her his number in case she could not fight off boys, there was so much of him that reminded Hild of home. Seeing him guard his personal pie like a dog with his bone was one such way. (He did not remind her of the dogs, but of all the eager men at a feast, more concerned with eating and drinking than conversation, as it should be.)

Noting that he had gotten himself an entire pie but nothing to wash it down with, Hild approached his booth bearing a pitcher of beer and two glasses. She slid into the seat across from him without waiting for invitation or notice and poured them each a glass.

"Where the hell else would I have gone?" I said, cutting him a look, even as I returned the one-armed hug.

I didn't want to say as much, not to a room full of people, especially when I could hardly admit it to myself, but he was my best friend. My alpha, in whatever sense he could be for me. I wouldn't have wanted to go anywhere, that day, where he wasn't.

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thanksgiving is, after all, a word of action [set on 11/26]

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