Sheriff Stilinski, was obviously the sheriff…. Which was great and all because it meant that like, nobody was going to break and enter and steal their stuff without a death wish. Or a werewolf bite, but that's kind of different. But it also meant he worked weird hours, like… Thanksgiving Day. All of it.
Which was how stiles found himself at the hale house, wrapping cloth napkins around mismatched silverware and waiting for the turkey to come out of the oven he wasn't even really positive that Derek had.
So yeah, it was a little weird to be here all alone, but he figured the pack would show up eventually. Scott was with his mom for a while, Boyd and Erica had run off to go find Derek. And Isaac, actually he was pretty sure Isaac was upstairs sleeping. Stiles got the feeling he didn't really like holidays too much, but he intended to change that.
He sighed, pulling a bowl out of the cabinet and putting the rolls into it. Alright so the table was set, everything but the turkey was cooked, and now the only thing missing was the entire pack.
Stiles frowned.
"ISAAC!" he yelled at the ceiling waiting until the younger wolf made his way downstairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
"Good you're here. Um. Well the food is almost done… and nobody is here and I just wondered if you had any idea where they were?" he asked scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Finding Derek." He replied. Stiles frowned.
"Call them, make them come home, I'll get Derek." He said grabbing a muffin on the way out the door and hopping into his jeep.
Stiles frowned, as much as he loved his pack, they were probably looking in all the wrong places. In the woods, at Deaton's… trying to look places that Derek would normally go. Stiles knew that wasn't where he was going to be.
The hale fire had been between thanksgiving and Christmas. Which meant this had been the last holiday he would have had with his family, as a whole family. And stiles of all people knew how important that was. His mother had died the day after Christmas, and now, every Christmas him and his father stood in the cemetery, trying to, well he wasn't really sure what they were trying to do. It just made him feel better.
Which was why stiles was not surprised to see Derek sitting on the ground surrounded by a cluster of graves.
"It's always the worst at holidays." He said walking up behind him, if Derek had noticed his presence he didn't acknowledge it. He just continued to stare blankly at the headstones, frowning. "Because then you can remember the last time you were truly happy, before everything happened and it feels wrong to try and get that back again."
He took a breath, trying to steady himself.
"But you know, they wouldn't have wanted you to stay this broken for this long. They would have forgiven you long ago, and you need to forgive yourself."
He put his hand on Derek's shoulder, and Derek didn't make any move to dispel it, so he took that as an okay.
"Will you come eat dinner with us?" he asked hopefully.
He knew it was probably a stretch, after all stiles still hadn't started to do normal Christmas things and it had been eight years. But Derek had a family again, a pack, people who loved him and he just wanted him to see that.
"I made your favorite muffins." Stiles said, extending the muffin out to Derek. Who finally looked up at him.
Fuck.
Stiles didn't think he had ever seen Derek look this broken. Granted he knew it was in there, somewhere because he had pretty much the worst past ever and stiles knew that he was probably pretty broken inside. But he had never seen it, he was never allowed to see Derek this vulnerable. Nobody was.
Which was why he couldn't stop himself from surging forward; arms wrapping around Derek's neck and legs wrapping around his sides, and his hips awkwardly and stiles couldn't bring himself to care. He had to hug Derek. And given Derek's seating arrangement this was pretty much the only way to go about it.
He buried his face into Derek's neck, squeezing him as tight as someone can squeeze like 200 pounds of pure muscle, trying to ignore the fact that he was in fact sitting in Derek hale's lap right now and Derek hadn't ripped out his throat or thrown him across the graveyard.
"I'm sorry. I am so sorry." He muttered over and over, not really knowing what he was apologizing for because he himself hadn't really done anything. But he was sorry Derek had to go through this, he was sorry Kate argent was a vapid bitch, he was sorry Derek had to go through so many thanksgivings alone in this graveyard. God he was just sorry.
He stayed like that for a while, waiting until Derek relaxed a bit under him. Hugging him tighter when Derek's arms wrapped around his back. He tried to remind himself that this was what Derek needed. A hug. A friend. A family.
"Please come home." He said before re thinking it, "er, I mean your home, not my home. Though I am there a lot. But it's not my home. I mean you're welcome to come to my home it's just there's nobody there and I already made the table, and the turkey and oh crap I left the turkey in the oven I hope Isaac takes it out…"
He babbled before realizing it probably wasn't helping, after all Derek always wanted him to shut up.
"Sorry" he mumbled, disentangling himself from Derek and pushing himself off the ground.
"But um, the pack is waiting. Scott might even be there… and I made mashed potatoes… and yeah. If you want to come… but you can stay here if you want to, I know the feeling, like… needing them to be there with you. Just remember, you've got another family now."
He said scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly and hoping Derek's nose was messed up by all the moping and he wouldn't notice the underlying currant of "I love you" that was probably coursing through the air.
He stood there a moment, waiting for Derek to stand up and come with him. But he didn't. Stiles just frowned shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way back to his jeep.
As much as he wanted Derek there, he had promised Isaac thanksgiving. With a real family, and a real meal, and he was going to give it to him.
He made it to the hale house, happy to see that Isaac had indeed pulled out the turkey and it hadn't burned down what was left of the house. Because he didn't think any of them least of all Derek would have recovered from that.
"So, Derek isn't coming. Scott will be here later. And Jackson… well who knows." He said addressing the table of misfit werewolves.
"But feel free to eat, and um. Yeah." He said gesturing to the table he had set out earlier. It wasn't perfect, it was mismatched and the cups were all different. The plates had chips and he was pretty sure he had no idea how to carve a turkey. But he had tried.
It wasn't his fault it didn't feel right without Derek.
Stiles frowned. Scooting his chair out of his place and motioning to the door.
"Gonna get some fresh air." He mumbled making his way to the porch to sit on the steps. He dropped his head into his hands, sighing deeply. No matter how hard he tried, things still ended up getting all messed up. He didn't really know what to do anymore.
"There's not going to be any turkey if you left them in there by themselves."
Stiles' head shot up. Derek.
"Nobody's eating." He replied, "It didn't feel right, maybe if you come inside…"
He lead off, burying his face into his hands again. Trying to not think about how cute Derek looked with that look on his face. Because alpha werewolves were not interested in scrawny geeky humans. It didn't work that way.
"Only if you come with me." Derek replied.
And stiles tried not to be hopeful, because after all he had made dinner and Derek probably just didn't want him to sit out here alone.
"yeah." He said standing up, looking pretty much anywhere but Derek. "Yeah okay."
He turned around, starting to walk inside, and he had made it about… eh… a half a step before Derek spoke.
"Thanks."
"Um, you're welcome. I mean no big deal." He replied taking a deep breath trying to steady his heart rate.
Which by the way should not have jumped so drastically just because someone thanked him. That was not normal.
And then all the sudden Derek was next to him, and stiles was still trying not to look at him. But it was made difficult by the fact that a larger hand was sliding into his and well, his natural reaction was to stare at Derek, gaping.
"You look like a fish." Derek deadpanned.
"You're holding my hand." Stiles replied, lifting their hands to illustrate the point.
If stiles hadn't known any better, he would have sworn that was a smile, just a little one. But it could have just been a twitch at the corners of Derek's mouth because it was there and gone so fast if he had blinked he would have missed it.
"Yeah, I am." Derek replied, before walking towards the building and subsequently bring stiles with him, because you know… the whole, hand thing.
And stiles was grinning, because you know… the whole…. Derek holding his hand thing. In front of his betas. Who all seemed to share a look of, well it's about dahm time.
"Alright" stiles chirped grinning and handing Derek the carving knife. "Who wants turkey?"
