It would have started with the cake.

He always bought a small, but very obnoxious cake that would spend its short life half eaten and sad in the corner of the fridge. But on the day, he'd pull it out before anyone else was up and set it on the table.

The year after the fire, he'd almost forgotten and ended up having to bake one. "How is it, Laura?" He asked, already knowing. The cake was a poor creation. He might have been able to cook, but Derek Hale was no master baker. He almost gave up whilst mixing, confused as to why he should even bother. A cake wouldn't make this place home, it wouldn't change what had happened. And it certainly wouldn't bring everyone back. It was charred on all edges and barely sweet without the frosting, but she grinned and took another bite.

"It's great." She lied. And the two of them broke. Laura, into her soft chuckle and Derek into some semblance of a smile. A true beam hadn't graced his jaw since they'd buried their family and left Beacon Hills, and at times he'd felt guilty about it. Not so much for the silent mourning but for the times Laura saw. They were all they had left and it was unfair that he got to keep his strong sister while she was stuck with a moody shell of her brother. That's what got him back to cracking eggs and softening butter. Not embarrassment over having forgotten to buy a cake but the need to show her he still cared. That she wasn't alone in this.

"It's disgusting, you can say it." "No, it's great. lemon's my favorite, at least you remembered that."

He could almost hear her say it as he took the first bite. With everything that had happened, finding Scott, the Argents, starting a pack, the kanima... everything with his uncle, he'd almost forgotten what day it was. "Happy Birthday, Laur'." He thought.

"Never figured you one for sweets, Derek." Peter murmured over his newspaper.

"Never figured you one for hanging around where you're not wanted." Derek stood, deciding to finish his package from the bakery on the porch.