triskehale (
triskehale) wrote2015-11-24 01:14 am
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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! ♥]
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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Plus, she has excellent taste in clothing if absolutely nothing else.
"I'm so glad you could make it!" I tell her when I'm near enough to set my plate down. "Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit or is this seat taken?"
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Some of that has to do with the moon eyes he and Derek make at each other, she's sure, but maybe she's just not such a bitch anymore. Maybe she can actually appreciate other people for what they are instead of just judging pretty much every person who crosses her path. It's kind of nice to think she might be growing up a bit.
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Still grinning, I take the seat next to her and glance down at her plate. "The food's great, isn't it? I don't think I've had a turkey so good in all my life! Have you had any pie yourself yet? I can run and get you a slice if you'd like!"
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She grins suddenly, looking over at him with a sly expression. "Are you trying to do your best to impress him?" She really doesn't know much of anything about Eric, how old he is, what he likes, where he's even from, but she knows it looks like Derek likes him and as far as she's concerned, that's good enough.
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I want so badly to be able to deny it, embarrassment sweeping through every part of me, and I dart a quick glance over at Derek to make sure he's not paying attention. He could overhear, I know, with that super hearing of his. But he looks to be deep in conversation with Dean and Castiel, at least.
With a sigh, I turn back to Kate. "I really like baking," I tell her, assuming she's mostly referencing the pies. "I would've done it for any friend of mine who asked, but..." I trail off, lips twisting into a grimace as I shrug. Because Derek's different and I know Kate can tell. "I-- I do. I kinda always do. Please don't tell him."
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"Why not?" she asks, lifting her head again. "I mean, come on. 'Oh, Eric, what colour are my eyes? Are they green today? Please stare deeply into them and tell me and I swear this is totally platonic gazing.' Please. After that display, I'm pretty sure the two of you should be like, snuggling in the corner or something."
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My lips twist into a grimace and I shrug. "It's not really like that," I tell her, hating how pathetic I probably seem to her. "I mean, we. There was some of what you may consider cuddling when we were in that other Darrow and some when we got back because I was too much of a wuss to sleep in my own for awhile and, I'll admit, I may have seized an opportunity while it was available. But he wasn't-- That's not how he sees me." Frowning, I look over at him again for a second before letting out a sigh. "I mean, look at him. He's lightyears outta my league. I'm just some dumb kid he hired to make pies for his bar and force him to smile every once in awhile."
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"Okay, so first, I really don't hold with that hold out of my league bullshit, so don't even start with that," she says. "Although I'm sure you and Derek could have a very long, very cyclical conversation about who is out of whose league. Second, I know Derek. I know Derek like, really well. You can say it's not like that, but I'm saying, as someone who considers that stupid, gooey centered werewolf family, you don't know that. Trust me."
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I have a feeling arguing that point with Kate will be fruitless though so instead, I ask, "How are you so sure?" And I tell myself it's not because I'll ever stand a chance with Derek myself, but more that I want him to be happy. After everything I witnessed in that other Darrow, I want that now more than ever. "He's... I know he has physical relationships with other people, but he's never... That's not something he's ever wanted from me. Not that I'd have any clue how to even..." I trail off when I feel a mortifying flush heat my cheeks and shake my head. "I really don't think I'm what he wants. How could I be?"
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"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?"
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"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."
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Reggie had been a virgin, too, and Kate wonders for a second if that's some kind of kink she has without even realizing it. She'd never actually taken Reggie's v-card, but she's pretty sure if she'd stayed on the island, she would have.
"So you care about him and you want him to be happy. That's all that matters," she says honestly. "I mean, it helps that you're cute as fuck, but that's not what Derek cares about. He just wants someone who cares, man."
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"I'm not gonna stop caring about him even if he doesn't wanna be with me," I point out, still frowning down at my hands. "And he cares about me, too. I know he does. He really is the only reason I'm alive right now so I know... I know he cares. It's stupid to want more. Selfish. And it's not like-- I mean, I have a date on Saturday with a really nice, really cute guy and I want to like him the way I do Derek. I really, really do."
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"Why is it stupid or selfish to want more?" she asks, totally baffled by that. "And why would you go out with a guy you want to like the way you like Derek if you don't like him that way?" She sort of wants to shake him and shout at him to take a risk, but she thinks that's probably against Thanksgiving Day etiquette, too.
"Look, as someone who knows him pretty well, I'm telling you he doesn't look at everyone the way he looked at you when we were shopping that day," she says. "That's all. I'll leave it now." Because meddling is kind of exhausting.
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Even with all my protests, I still get a little hung up on her claim that Derek looked at me different at the store. I'm not sure how true it is or if she's just saying it to be nice or just saying it because... I don't know. I don't know. I still remember Derek asking me to look into his eyes that day and how easy it is to just be around him all the time, but that doesn't really mean anything. Not to him.
Frowning, I stare down at my hands again and shrug. "I'm terrible at this," I confess. "And goodness, this has to be just about the last thing you want to talk about on Thanksgiving. I'm so sorry."
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Pretty much everything he says about Derek having other people doesn't at all fall in line with what Kate knows of him, but she can only meddle face to face so much. Even she has limits. Sometimes.
"And whatever, at least no one has thrown the turkey or turned into someone else or flashed everyone here," she points out brightly. "So in terms of family holidays, this is all actually pretty tame."
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But I can't take any of that to mean I'm anything all that special. Not when he has so many other people who care about him just as much as I do and can offer him so many things than I can't. This entire room is full of people who love him and every single one of them has some amazing, incredible ability or is stunningly beautiful, or both.
All I can do is bake a few pies.
It's pointless to say any of that though and I really do want to try my hardest not to dwell on any of this stuff, so I try my hardest for a smile and shake my head.
And then blink.
"Turned into someone else? What? That's happened?"
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"My mom has Dissociative Identity Disorder," she says. "Used to be Multiple Personalities Disorder, that's probably what you've heard it referred to as. So when I say someone would turn into other people, I mean it. Mostly she'd be herself, but family dinners are stressful, right? Especially with grandparents like mine, they were total dicks, so mostly my mom was my mom, but sometimes she was Buck or T or Alice."
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For a moment, I have absolutely no idea how to respond. I've definitely heard of the disorder before, but I've never known anyone who's had to deal with it any way. It's always been one of those things I've heard about or seen in movies, but just couldn't conceive as real.
Which is terrible, I know. If there's one thing Darrow has taught me it's just how sheltered I've been all my life.
"That sounds... uhm. I don't know. Confusing? I can't even imagine how that would work. Would you have to cook for any one of those who might show up?"
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"It really wasn't that big a deal," she says honestly. "I mean, yeah, it sucked sometimes that my mom was crazy, but mostly because other kids are assholes and they like to make fun of shit they don't understand. But when it came to my actual mom and the alters... I don't know, it wasn't so bad. Some of the alters were pretty cool. T was fifteen, so when I was like, twelve to sixteen myself, she was the best. After that she got to be sort of a pain in my ass and I did always sort of hate how she squeezed her mom butt into my skinny jeans and stretched the shit out of them."
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"Sorry, it's just... this isn't something I could ever even imagine myself, but you make it sound, I don't know. Normal? How many alters does you mom have? Just a few?"
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Bryce is the worst. She never wants to talk about Bryce. The others are harmless, even if some of them are more annoying than others, but Bryce terrified her. The way he'd looked at her, the talk of the abuse, the way he'd physically assaulted Marshall. Her mother's own abuser as one of her alters is definitely the worst things ever got and Kate prefers to gloss right over him entirely.
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"Gimme and Chicken?" I ask, focusing on that instead. "Were they all at least sorta nice? And did your mom... I mean, she knew about them, right? Could she remember anything her alters did? Not that you have to tell me anything!" I rush to add. "I'm sorry if I'm asking anything too personal. I've just. I'm curious. But you don't have to answer anything you don't want to - I totally understand."
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At the question about the alters being nice, Kate smirks a little and says, "I don't know if they were all nice. I sort of hated Alice, she was a bitch, but I loved T and Buck. Gimme and Chicken were annoying, because they were like... my mom's baser instincts. Gimme was like, this gibbering idiot and Chicken was six. Shoshana was a psychiatrist. Yeah, my mom had a psychiatrist alter and she was always up in everyone's business. She tried to profile me all the time, I sort of hated it, but she helped my mom, so I guess she wasn't all bad."
And she doesn't mention Bryce. The less said about him, the better.
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"This is... my gosh, this is fascinating," I tell her and as soon as the words are out, I cringe. "Sorry, that sounds so rude! I'm just. I can't imagine how... how anything. How are brains can be capable of something like that. Does she... I mean, is your mom happy? I bet she's sure happy to have had you around at the very least. Goodness, can you imagine going through something like that all on your own?"
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