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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I honestly hadn't intended to drink as much as I have. Though I don't really know how many drinks it's been at this point, I just know that everything is a little fuzzy and walking is not as easy as it should be, particularly while carrying plate after plate to the kitchen.

It does make the clean-up process a little more enjoyable though. Not that I ever particularly mind it, especially since Derek's still here. I don't know if I've seen him smile for this long without stopping and it's making my chest feel all full and warm. Maybe now he'll have an easier time believing how much people care for him. And, if not, I can at least use it as proof when he has his rougher moments.

Once the dishes are all clean and the tables have been wiped free of grease and food crumbs, I tuck the last chair back into place and then collapse into a booth.

"Leave me here," I call out to Derek as I stretch out against the seat, hands rested on my chest and my eyes slipping shut. My feet are throbbing and everything is blurry, but I feel good. I feel really, really good. But sleep sounds nice. "Just... turn off the lights when you go. I'll be out by morning, I swear."

"I would have thought you ate enough to soak up all that alcohol," Derek says with a laugh, watching as Bitty moves around the kitchen a little less gracefully than usual. He had told Bitty that he could handle the clean up, but Bitty had insisted. It does make the work a bit more enjoyable, even if he does have to use his speed to catch a few glasses when Bitty's tipsy elbows knock them off of the counter.

But nothing is broken, everything is clean, and all the food is put away. He has two an a half pies and a few containers of tupperware that he plans on taking home for breakfast, and he sets it down on the bar when he comes out to see Bitty all but collapsed into a booth

"Now, you know I can't do that," Derek says fondly, slipping in next to him and pressing their shoulders together. "But I can walk you home."

Derek slips into the booth next to me and I feel that familiar swoop in my belly. It's nice though, kind of muted with the alcohol, and I have no qualms about leaning into him, head on his shoulder as I settle my hand on his thighs, fingers curling to pet him lightly. Goodness, he has quite a lot of muscle there. No wonder he's pretty good on skates.

"But that requires walking," I point out, letting my eyes slip shut again as I let out a soft breath. "And I'm so comfortable right here. You're comfortable. Just stay, I promise I won't snore or anything."

"I'm not leaving you in the bar, Bitty," Derek says with a laugh, reaching out to pat his hand where it's resting on his thigh. He leaves it there for a moment, but something makes him pull it away.

He tugs on Bitty's shoulder and slides out of the booth, pulling his keys out of his pocket. "I know walking is hard, but think of how happy you'll be when you're in your own bed."

There's a few tote bags on the bar and Derek goes over to grab them, and then smirks fondly at the picture Bitty makes, all tousled and sleepy. "Come on. Alpha's orders."

His hand feels nice on top of mine, warm and comforting, and I nearly turn my wrist to thread our fingers together, but he pulls away before I can. Which is good. Mentally, I thank God for getting me out of completely embarrassing myself as he gathers his keys and the few bags.

Groaning, I force myself out of the booth and back onto over-worked feet.

"You're gonna start using that relentlessly, aren't you?" I ask, shuffling to grab my coat off the rack and trying for my best glare as I tug it on. It feels weak though. Probably because I don't really mean it. My words feel lazy, accent heavy on my tongue, but I don't have the energy to fight it right now. I let out a loud yawn. "You're gonna be even worse than Jack tellin' me to eat my protein. Just promise me you won't be wakin' me up at dawn every mornin' to start throwin' me into the boards."

"I understood very little of that, but telling someone to eat their protein sounds a bit like a come on," Derek says with a laugh, reaching over the bar to grab his leather jacket. It looks like it's freezing outside, with frost creeping across the windows, so Derek comes over to place his jacket over Bitty's shoulders and give them a squeeze. He leans in close to his ear with a grin. "And you were the one who declared themselves pack."

Derek would never abuse his power as alpha, never again anyway, but it's fun to tease. He grabs the bags and reaches over to open the door, ushering Bitty out into the chill. "Come on, you'll get to sleep soon enough."

The mere idea of Jack trying to come onto anyone, much less me, is enough to make me laugh and I quickly shake my head, watching Derek as he grabs his jacket and peeks out the window. "Jack was our captain and straight and basically a hockey robot," I tell him, blinking upward as he drapes his coat over my shoulders. "And he could barely even tolerate me sometimes so, trust me, it was absolutely not a come on."

My words trail off a little as Derek leans in then, his lips close enough to my ear to make me shiver and I draw his coat in closer. I should object, I know. I should insist I'll be fine and it wouldn't be a lie, but his coat feels so nice and... damnit, I just want to have this. Just this little bit.

Still, my lips curl into a frown as I follow him out into the cold. "Are you saying I'm not?" I ask him, ignoring the unease that pokes its way through the alcohol. "I mean, I said it because I wanted to be and because I thought I could be, but I don't want to presume. I know you're selective, of course, and I don't really have any reason to assume you'd... I just thought because you hired me and you've been so nice to me and we... we have fun together. You're basically the best friend I have here and... and when we were stuck in that other place, I thought maybe you..."

I trail off, frowning down at the snow as I shake my head. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have presumed."

I should really give him his coat back, but heavy as my heart suddenly feels, I don't make a move to do so.

"Bitty, come on," Derek tells him, turning to face him with a resigned expression on his face. He wonders if Bitty has always had this much self-doubt and insecurity, or if it's something he's picking up from spending so much time around Derek. "You didn't assume. I told you that you were, and that's not something that I would say just to be nice. It means something."

Derek frowns, shoulders slumping a bit, because if he was a good alpha, nobody in his pack would ever feel any doubt about their place in it. He just can't seem to make it work, not with wolves, not with humans. It's just another reminder that he wasn't meant to lead.

"Come on," Derek says quietly, gesturing down the street with his chin. "You'll catch a chill."

We slow to a stop, Derek moving to stand in front of me and despite my embarrassment, I look up to meet his eyes, my heart sinking even further when I see the expression on his face. He looks... well, hurt, is the only way to describe it though it doesn't seem to cover it.

"Oh, you were joking," I say, a puff of wispy air floating past my lips as I let out a breath.

He turns away and without thinking, I grab for his hand. "Wait, no," I tell him, curling my fingers around his. He's warm, he's always warm, and I feel a flutter in my stomach I can't deny as I bump my shoulder against his arm. "I'm sorry, I'm..." I wave vaguely with my other hand. "I'm drunk. If that's not painfully obvious. I didn't get that you were chirping me, I'm sorry. And it does mean something, it means everything to me."

"I was joking," Derek confirms, though he doesn't let go of Bitty's hand, and tells himself it's because it's so cold. They walk in silence for awhile, and Derek does feel a bit better. He squeezes Bitty's hand and opens his mouth and closes it a few times before finally getting the words out.

"It means a lot that you want to be pack," Derek says quietly. "Because you're the only one who knows all the mistakes that I made the first time."

They don't talk about it much, how Bitty knows so, so much about him. Sometimes it's too much, but sometimes Derek is grateful for it. He feels vaguely unburdened, having someone else who knows everything.

He's quite for a long time, no sound except our footsteps on the pavement and the crunch of snow here and there. He doesn't let go of my hand either, and actually squeezes it once and I squeeze back. It feels nice. It feels, so so nice, even if he's only doing it because it's cold and I'm drunk and he's afraid I'll fall down.

When he speaks again, his voice is quiet and I look over at him, frowning slightly.

"There were some, uh... extenuating circumstances back then," I remind him, rubbing my thumb along his finger in what I hope is a soothing gesture. "Here it's. Well, your pack are mostly human and you haven't turned any of us. We're your pack because we want to be and because we know that, without question, you'll look out for us. You've proven it."

I go quiet myself then, chewing at my bottom lip before squeezing his hand again. "I know I've said it to almost everyone since it all happened, but I don't know if you know how grateful I am that you looked out for me in that other Darrow. I know you keep sayin' I wouldn't've been there at all if not for you, but I still say that's bullshit. And, even if it is true, it still doesn't change the fact that I'm alive because of you. Don't think I'm ever likely to forget that either. You're... I'm proud to call you my alpha, Derek. I'm proud to have you as a boss and a friend and... and anything else I might be able to call you." It only occurs to me after the words are out how that might sound and I can only hope he doesn't push it, squeezing his hand again and adding quickly, "I'm just so, so glad I met you. You've been amazing since the day I met you."

"You and Neil are the only ones who have said they want to be pack," Derek reminds him. He has friends that care for him deeply, but they haven't declared themselves as pack. And that's okay, Derek doesn't expect them to. He'll care for them just the same.

Derek listens as Bitty speaks, as he rambles really, and his throat constricts a little at the words. They're so kind, so Bitty, and he finds himself smiling. Bitty's obviously a little more than tipsy, but Derek knows that he means what he says. Most, if not all of it.

"Thanks," Derek says roughly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Bitty's temple. "I-- I don't really know what to say to all that, but it means a lot. I'm glad that I met you too."

He's quiet once I stop rambling and, ordinarily, I'd probably feel pretty dumb or at least be nervous about his reaction, but if all the beer is good for one thing, it's calming the unease. At least a little bit.

Still, the press of Derek's lips to my temple makes me go warm all over and I squeeze his hand tight again, leaning into it. It feels nice. I can't help but wonder what his lips would feel like elsewhere, how the scratch of his beard would feel on my chin instead--

Oh goodness, stopping that train of thought right now.

"You don't have to say anything," I tell him, bumping him lightly with my shoulder. "Just know that I mean every word and try to believe it. I know it can be hard, but if you trust me at all, you know it's nothing but sincere."

We're getting pretty close to my apartment building now and I almost wish we could slow down. Being out here with Derek is so nice after the choas of the day. It's cold and quiet and the snow looks beautiful. I know it doesn't mean the same to him, but that's okay. I just hope I'm not too drunk to forget any of this tomorrow. This right here is a memory I'd like to keep.

"I do trust you," Derek tells him, and it may only be a few words, but they don't come easily from Derek. They mean a lot, and he's pretty sure that Bitty knows that.

They walk in comfortable silence, shoes crunching on the frozen ground as they walk. When they get to Bitty's building, Derek reaches out to open the door for him, gesturing him inside. "I'll walk you up."

Derek only lets go of my hand to hold open the door and I'm glad for the cold if only because I can blame the flush of my cheeks to the frigid air. I keep his coat tucked over my shoulders even after we're inside and I repeat over and over to myself that this isn't anything like him walking me home after a date no matter how much I'd like it to be.

Once we're standing outside my door, I finally tug his coat off, handing it back to him. "All safe and sound," I tell him, fishing my keys out of my pocket. "And I didn't fall over once!"

"I'm very proud of you," Derek teases, taking the keys away and opening the door for him. Once they're inside, Derek pulls on his jacket and heads for the kitchen. The leather is soft and warm, and the interior smells like Bitty and caramelized sugar.

He takes a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water before returning to the living room and holding it out to Bitty. "Drink all of this before you go to bed."

I'm not sure whether to feel insulted or grateful when Derek takes the keys from my hand and unlocks my door for me. I really don't feel that terribly drunk, but maybe I'm one of those drunks who denies their drunkenness while they're busy falling all over themselves.

Goodness, I probably am. Derek's probably so embarrassed for me.

Not that he's showing it, of course. He's too nice for that. I watch as he fills up a glass of water for me and then hands it to me. "I will," I tell him, glancing down at the clear liquid for a moment. "I've been on the other side of this a few times. Thanks for walking me home. And for inviting me and entrusting me with the pies. It, uh... it really means a lot."

"No one else even came to mind," Derek assures him, smiling fondly. "I'm glad that you were there."

He looks around and decides that there isn't any real reason for him to linger, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to Bitty's forehead. "Get some rest. I'll see you later."

With that, he heads out of the apartment, and back out into the cold.

But at least he's smiling.

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

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