Author's Note: While this is really OOC, I really wanted to write about it. I wish Peter and Derek had more bonding moments together and were closer like when Derek was younger.
Today was the day. I had been dreading it for a few weeks now. The anniversary of the fire. It was the first time I'd be not comatose for it and to be honest, I wasn't sure if I was ready.
Initially I didn't think much of how it would affect Derek. He had done it for years now. On top of that, we weren't exactly close so I didn't even think he would want to talk about it or do something.
I had gotten better at giving him space. He wasn't ready to trust me or let me back into his life just yet and I could understand that. But that didn't mean that I was ever going to stop treating him like my own son. Sure I was his uncle but before the fire we were best friends, we were brothers. I taught him control and he was practically glued to my hip 24/7. To me that isn't something that you can forget. The bond that we shared, that we still share, is not one that can break completely. In my head and in my heart there was still a part of me that knew we could become close again. While I didn't expect him to follow me around like he did as a kid, I at least want him to be able to talk to me and come to me about anything. But for now, sharing the loft and at least acknowledging each other's existence was enough.
But even after all that, when I hadn't seen Derek all day, that protective instinct kicked in and I started to worry. Sunset wasn't for another hour but the light was starting to fade as I got in the car. It didn't take a genius to assume that he might be at the site of the fire. So I drove to the Hale house. I didn't drive all the way up as I didn't want to scare Derek away if he was here so I parked and began walking up to the front door.
It didn't take much to push open the burnt wood. With a loud creak it revealed the broken, burned interior. Part of me wanted to look around but 1) I didn't know if I was ready to see it and 2) I could tell Derek wasn't inside. His scent was coming from the backyard.
As I thought of the yard my mind instantly thought of the tree. A large oak with a massive trunk and strong branches sat in the yard and extended all the way up to my old window. Not only did it provide an easy exit for sneaking out but it had given Derek and me hours upon hours of fun while climbing it in the summer. It was in the shade under the tree that I taught Derek control. It was on one of the branches that Derek first broke his arm. Derek at five years old had thought he was ready to climb out onto one of the branches without any supervision. I had been in my room doing homework when I heard a thud, a crack, and a cry. Instantly I was out the window and at Derek's side and he had sobbed into my shirt while I carried him inside.
Suddenly I snap out of my flashback and find myself back at the front door. I ease it open and begin making my way around the side to the backyard. I hear him before I see him. Well technically I first hear the sound of something hitting something. I round the corner of the house and my heart breaks. Derek is standing in front of the tree and is pounding his fist into the trunk. His hands are covered in blood and tears are streaming down his face. If he weren't so emotional, he may actually notice my presence but he is completely oblivious. I find myself in utter shock. With the exception of him breaking his arm, Derek had never been one to show much emotion other than anger. Seeing him cry was a rarity.
"It's my fault!" Derek sobs as he punches the tree. "Mom…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" He continues. Finally he pauses and leans against the trunk, his forehead pressed against the bark. "I can't mom! Peter is back and-I screwed it up! He hates me and-I can't fix it. I miss him so much and he's right there but he would rather I be dead-" Derek chokes out before he resumes sobbing. He pushes himself off the tree and raises his bloody fist again. But just as he is about to throw another punch I'm there and I'm grabbing his wrist. Derek finally sees me as I stand there in front of him. With a sob, he falls forward into my chest and I catch him. He fists my jacket like his life depends on it. I ease us down against the tree so Derek is curled in my lap. My arm is wrapped tightly around his waist while my other hand holds his head against me. Sobs wrack is body as we sit there. My chin rests on the top of his head as I tell him I love him.
"It's my fault!" Derek cries. "Shhhh it's not Derek. It's not your fault! You didn't do anything. I love you so much. I could never hate you Derek." I reply as I rub his back soothingly.
As the sobs die down, Derek just lies shivering in my arms. I then remember his hands and gently grab one. They aren't healing but given that Derek hasn't really been focusing on his hands, it makes sense. I ease my chin off his head and look down at him. He looks so young again as he glances up at me.
"You don't hate me?" he asks almost silently. "I could never hate you. I thought you hated me. I was giving you space" I answer. Derek is now shivering not because of the sobs but because of the cold.
"Let's go home okay?" I ask. Derek nods and clambers to his feet. I slide out of my jacket and ease it over his shoulders.
Derek glances at his hands as he says, "I'm not healing" in a shaky voice. "I know. It's okay" I say as I place and arm around his waist. We walk to the car slowly and Derek is nearly wiped out from exhaustion. We make it to the car and I help Derek into the passenger seat. By the time I make it into the car and we are moving down the driveway, Derek is slumped against the window, asleep. I can't help but smile. While I know this was quite the ordeal for Derek, I'm glad to know that he doesn't hate me.
Finally we make it back to the loft and I am guiding Derek over to the couch. He sits down absently and I bring over a damp towel to clean off his hands. I grab one gently and as I bring the towel onto the cuts. Derek draws back his hand and hisses, "that hurt's Peter". "I know but you aren't healing yet" I say as I gently grab his hand again. I try to be gentle and finally the gashes are clean. I am glad to see they are starting to heal as Derek becomes more tired.
"Time for bed Derek" I say as I bring him to his feet. A moan is all I get as an answer as Derek rests his head against my chest. Seeing as I don't have many options, I elect to just carry Derek to bed before he falls asleep standing up. "Let's go" I say as I lift Derek bridal style. He wraps his arms around my neck and sighs contently as I make my way up the staircase.
Once in Derek's room, I draw back the covers and ease him down onto the pillows. He just snuggles down into the covers as I tuck him in. Just like old times I think as I push the hair back on his forehead. I glance down at Derek sleeping and finally turned and crept out of the room. Today hadn't been so bad after all.