Minutes to hours to days to weeks to months, each minute plagued by the buzzing of a muted phone on a cold marble table in a suburban home outside Boston.

"Hey Derek," voices rang into the phone whether the phone was answered or not.

"It's Allen," and Derek would flinch at the name of one of his closest friends, flinch at the name of his Emmisary, too. "I guess you've never been much for chatter but the guys all miss you at home. Zach really wants a tattoo in honour of your family but his dad's being resistant to it. Kit really wants to know when you'll be getting home. Drowning his miseries in basketball, we think. He's not as fun to be around without you here, buddy."

And Derek would cradle the phone to his ear, drinking in the voices that rooted his leather combat boots to the soft grass beneath his feet. Then as the phone buzzed late at night, Derek would still accept the voices of his friends, pulling them into himself to soothe himself to the embraces of Morpheus.

Alas when awake, Derek would speak to his friends. "Hey man." The names hurt too much.

Then, gentle-worded and calming they would reply. "You okay, dude? Don't sound too great. When'd'ya last have a glass of water?"

Derek answered truthfully. "I don't even know anymore. I can't remember much of anything."

Disappointment would ring from the other side, echoing in the tinny voices relayed through the phone. "That's cool, Derek. Just grab one now. Take a nice long gulp and everything will become clearer." Imagination near dead, Derek could still see his friends using expansive gestures around them, waving long arms at the trees surrounding Beacon Hills High.

So he did, if only to make Allen or Kit of Zach feel better. He didn't really care for his own health, just that of others. Gulping down water, he realized they were right. The water did clear his fogged vision and make the pathetic sight of the dirty apartment surrounding him clearer. Since then, he drank only when he was on the verge of death from dehydration. It hadn't taken long for Derek to go too far with his dehydration, passing out and waking in the serene white room of a hospital. Laura would scold him for eternity before allowing her younger brother a long wolf hug.

"Hey Zach, I'm sure Derek appreciates hearing from you but he's not feeling great right now," Laura would answer in a falsely cheerful voice, shoving the human away gently.

The bubbly voice would answer. "Is he gonna be okay?"

A roll of eyes would pass. "Yes, Zach. Now how early are you awake?" The simple question forcefully told the other to get a long nights sleep for once without worrying about Derek.

Then nights later Derek would fall into a light slumber with the phone cradled to his chest, phone on speakerphone so that he could hear the words of his friends as he fell into a far from peaceful slumber. Sleep was soothing. When asleep, he couldn't think about the fire that had stolen his Alpha from him, nor of the family burned to death within. He couldn't think of littlest sibling Gabriel who had been curled up on the couch, nor of eldest cousin Hazel who had returned from college for just a few days to reaffirm her bond with the close knit family. There was great-uncle Wallace who had been taking a nap to be awake for Talia's specially planned dinner.

And yet Derek couldn't sleep without the voices from where the fire had been.

With the voices, sleep became a deep slumber.