triskehale | 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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It's been about twelve thousand years since Newt had last seen Derek so the only appropriate greeting, obviously, is to give his friend a solid punch to the arm. Little good it does, other than to make him let out a yelp and nurse his now aching knuckles. This is even a mistake he's made before and yet, he hasn't learned.

"Look, food is very important, okay," he says, shaking out his fist and scowling at his friend before a smile quickly takes over. "'Sides, wouldn't miss this, Mister Popular. You've got a full house in here."

Derek rolls his eyes in fond exasperation when Newt punches him and then shake out his hand. It's become their standard greeting at this point, like a very dysfunctional handshake.

"Food is incredibly important. It's why I made four turkeys, and I plan on eating at least half of one." His smile goes from amused to fond, eyes shining as he looks around the room and then back to Newt. "I have a lot to be thankful for."

Sure, a lot of terrible things have happened to him, and it's so easy to get lost in that hurt, to dwell in it, but sometimes he just has to claw his way out and remember all the good to come into his life. Newt's one of those things, and he's glad that he could make it today.

"Only half? Slacking, dude, for real. Aren't werewolves supposed to have like, huge appetites or something? I'm totally willing to make up for that, though, feel free to throw the other half of that bird my way."

He watches with a softening expression as Derek looks around with a contentment in his eyes that Newt isn't really used to seeing. It's not that Derek is doom and gloom all the time or anything, it's just that Newt isn't sure he's ever seen his friend fully happy before. Especially after Stiles had disappeared from the city, Derek seems to have been in a bit of a dark place, which is understandable; but with what Kate's said about him digging someone who digs him, too, Newt just hopes Derek can find some much deserved peace.

Not that he'd say that out loud, that's just not him.

"Anyway, I'm glad you invited us to your shindig," he says, "otherwise we might have had to think about throwing a party to invite some of you people to, and it could've gotten ugly. Mostly because I'd probably taste test most of the meal before putting it out on the table."

"Oh, that's just round one," Derek says with a laugh. "I'll eat you under the table at least three times over, just wait."

The look on Newt's face gets a little sappy, and Derek raises an eyebrow as he waits to see what he'll say. The anyway is a bit telling, and Derek smiles a bit as he reaches out to squeeze Newt's shoulder. "Wouldn't have been a party without you, man. Glad you could make it."

"We'll see about that, my friend, we'll see. The underdog always beats the wolf, isn't that like, a super well-known saying? Pretty sure it is."

It's not a saying at all but whatever, Newt's always up for challenges that involve eating things so he's willing to roll with it.

Rolling his eyes and dramatically batting Derek's hand from his shoulder, Newt huffs. "Don't get all sugary sweet on me, dude, I'm so not here for that. Except I love ya, buddy, just don't tell anyone I said that because I have a new street rep I'm trying to maintain, okay?"

"Uh huh," Derek replies, letting out an amused laugh. His expression softens into something fond as Newt keeps speaking, heart stuttering a bit over the words. They mean a lot to him, even with how flippantly they were said, and Derek nods. "As long as you don't tell anyone I feel the same way."

This is getting way to sugary sweet for him, so Newt just rolls his eyes and turns in the direction of the pies. "Come on, dude, watch me indulge in what your ginger friend made. Just gotta say, that's definitely the kind of pal you want to hold onto, who just makes ten trillion pies for a Thanksgiving party he's not even hosting? I will tell you this right now so you don't set yourself up for disappointment in the future, I am not that kind of pal."

If Derek needs a favor returned and asks Newt to bring him a goddamn $12.99 shovel or some shit to dig a grave, sure, will do. Pies, he'd be less inclined to supply. Mostly because he's pretty sure he'd just eat himself into his own coma.

"Bitty loves making pies. You should have seen him when I asked him to do it. It was like I'd given him a gift," Derek says with a laugh. He reaches out to grab another piece of dutch apple, his favorite, and drops a huge dollop of whipped cream on top. "Am I going to have to roll you out of here after the inevitable sugar crash?"

"I mean, if you asked me to draw you a series of kaijus, you'd be giving me a gift, so I get where the guy's coming from," Newt says, which is only half-true because his drawings are more like scribbles so they wouldn't look like much of anything anyway. "And no, I'm not that much of a lightweight, dude. Come on. Maybe if you had those fucking Crentists dipshits here with their crazy gas but not when it comes to sugar."

He pauses, studying Bitty for a minute before looking back at his friend. "So what, you got a personal baker now or something? Too good for the peasants? The hell did you meet this guy?"

It takes a moment for Derek to decipher what the hell Newt is talking about, which isn't all that unusual, but then he remembers and he snorts out a laugh, shaking his head at the memory.

"Bitty works here," Derek tells him. "He makes pies and I sell them at the bar to drunk people. Flawless business model."

Derek looks over his shoulder at Bitty and then back at Newt. "He got stuck with me in that other Darrow, so we've been through some shit. He's a good guy."

There's a piemaker who has a permanent position in this bar, and Newt would think that's weirder if he wasn't already shoving a slice of delicious-looking pastry onto his plate. It's the mention of the other Darrow that gives him pause, and he freezes to look up at Derek with his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Oh." Newt doesn't know the dirty details of what'd happened, and he's not especially inclined to ask because he knows he sure as hell doesn't love talking about the shit that's happened to him in his life. Well, okay, he loves talking about what'd happened with the kaijus but that's different because all of what he'd done then had been intended. Mostly.

"Well, I guess it's good for him that you were there. Like, if Kate wasn't going to be with me to kick asses, I'd probably opt for you as second choice."

"Probably, huh?" Derek says with a huff of laughter, shaking his head a bit. "I'm honored."

He doesn't linger on the topic of that other Darrow, because today is supposed to be for good thoughts, for being grateful for what you have and looking ahead. He is grateful that Kate and Newt didn't end up there, but he's pretty sure that he knows that.

"You should stop by the bar more often," Derek tells him. "Try not to start any fights, though."

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

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