A/N: I got this idea off a thing on Tumblr...so if anyone made that post about Derek wanting one good day...here it is, got from you! I give credit to that wonderful post person! Please tell me what you guys think!
Derek rolls out of his makeshift bed to a barrage of text messages from Stiles, lighting up his cell phone.
Scott's Sidekick: Derek, hey, guess what? I came up with a rap for the pack. Like, I know I'm not technically pack but I sorta am and I got bored so…
Scott's Sidekick: You're not going to ask to see it?
Scott's Sidekick: I know you want to see it. I can feel it with my non-wolf senses.
Scott's Sidekick: Oh, come on. Just admit it.
Scott's Sidekick: Alright, you've given me no choice!
Scott's Sidekick: Here we go…The Pack Attack…
Scott's Sidekick: The Pack Attack – There's a group of five that started this whole big jive. You've got your alpha, your betas, your never-wanna-mate(as). It started as one, but that was no fun. Derek needed someone to run [with]. Then along Scott tumbled, creating quite a rumble, causin' a fumble. It was all a jumble. Entering the picture soon was Boyd devoid of any true ulterior – just wanted a cool exterior. Erica popped soon after, swirling and twirling her big beautiful mane, often inflicting pain. She knew there had to be a gain. Folks, what can we say about Issac? This boy had quite a run, under that powerful son. He came from hard times but he hardly lets slip a whine. It's truly a group that will never fly the coup – this is Stiles Stillinski, signing off! Whoo! It's 2012!
Scott's Sidekick: Derek? Did you get my text?
Scott's Sidekick: Should I send it again?
Scott's Sidekick: Nah, I bet you got it.
Derek closed his phone slowly, convincing himself that the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth was in no way a smile.
OoOoOo
After a quick run through the forest, as per his morning routine, Derek stops in the kitchen (or what he's now referred to as the kitchen, a room in the abandoned train station with a sink and an ancient stove) patting the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt. He stops short when he sees Erica and Issac arguing over something on the counter.
"What are you doing?" he asks coldly.
Erica turns around, guilt painted onto her face. She shoots a desperate look to Issac, who turns to Boyd. Boyd just holds up his hands and says, "I'm just supervising."
"Supervising…?" Derek lifts a brow.
Erica steps aside, revealing some cookie sheets, batter and a recipe. "We're, um…"
Issac looks caught. "I mean, it's not like there's anything to do…"
Derek finally swivels his gaze on Boyd, who doesn't seem as inarticulate.
"They're trying to make cookies," he elaborates with a shrug. "I'm here to make sure they don't burn the kitchen done."
"Well, we won't if Issac learns how to cook properly," Erica retorts, hand on her hip.
"If Issac learns?" Boyd asks. "Honey, you couldn't even handle an Easy-Bake."
Erica gasps in self-righteous indignation.
Issac slowly backs up against the counter, staying out of the fray.
"Are you trying to tell me that you'd like to do this?" Erica gestures to the mess of ingredients. "'Cause I will gladly step aside."
Boyd just shakes his head with a smile that clearly portrays, you silly, silly girl.
Derek's just been standing there, staring and finally clears his throat awkwardly. "Make sure no fangs make an appearance, alright?" he asks Boyd.
He walks out of the station ten minutes later, Laundromat-bound, a basket of dirty clothes balanced on his hip, suppressing the urge to laugh out loud.
OoOoOo
The thing about the Laundromat is that Derek never has the right amount of Tide. He always thinks he does, and then, whoops, another load of whites to do and there's no soap. What, you thought he just soaked his clothes in a stream somewhere? Please. He's a twenty-first century werewolf, here, people.
Anyways, so Derek's hefting a huge pile of his cotton tank tops, Boyd's muscle shirts, Erica's dresses and Issac's ironic tees into the wash and he's already anticipating that he won't enough quarters for the last bit of soap. It's not like he's strapped for cash…it's just that he doesn't exactly have time to worry about how much change he needs to wash clothes. He's training Erica, Issac and Boyd and keeping Scott at a spot where he won't run in this whole situation, where he can trust Derek and cover all their asses so they don't get discovered at the station and have to relocate and worry if enough Tide will wash their shirts? Please.
But as he fumbles in his pocket he comes up with three quarters and he exhales a sigh of relief as he walks over to the machine.
OoOoOo
After he's sorted out the laundry, he pops on over to the rental store, killing time before everything will be done drying.
He passes the New Releases shelves, already knowing nothing good will be there. He passes the Favorites, too. Between you and him, he's actually kind of sick of movies. When he, Issac, Erica and Boyd have downtime (which is scarce, lately) they sit down and watch a movie. But they've watched a lot of movies and he's pretty positive there isn't one in this entire store they haven't yet –
Derek stops still at an old classic, The Breakfast Club. He picks it up and securitizes the cover. He never understood the fascination with it, but it seems harmless enough. Oh, why not…he carries it with him to the counter.
OoOoOo
After the laundry is the grocery shopping.
Derek hates grocery shopping.
He hates waiting in lines and he hates trolling the aisles and he never knows what exactly he's looking for. Once he went in to pick up a frozen pizza and emerged with a set of plastic dishware and a "Styx Best Hits" CD.
Nevertheless, he needs to buy food, because the train station doesn't exactly offer a gourmet spread. He grabs a bag of apples and some grapes, pauses thoughtfully and then chucks in a pineapple, too.
He buys a whole lot of other stuff, too, like graham crackers for Issac and hot chocolate for Erica and cinnamon bagels for Boyd. He stocks up on lettuce and granola bars and milk and even yogurt. He's almost all the way through, having carefully avoided the Electronics section, which is always a gigantic distraction, when he sees it.
It's nothing huge, really. It's not like the apocalypse has started right here in the middle of Walmart or anything.
But still, he stops.
There's a display stand of Moon Pies.
It's absolutely ridiculous that Derek is so enamored with this but…the snack reminds him of something. It reminds him of cloud-strewn skies, sparring with Laura in the front yard and going inside…eating Moon Pies. They were like a rite of passage for him as a child and it's embarrassing how moving a simple, calorie-laden snack is.
He quickly grabs a box and shoves it into the cart before ducking into an aisle of candles, trying to quell the heavy feeling that persists when he thinks of his family sitting around the table, together.
OoOoOo
Erica and Issac's cookies look terrible.
He shouldn't be surprised, honestly.
They look lumpy and misshapen and altogether wrong but Erica is beaming like she's finally done something and Issac is nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other and Boyd is just standing there, arms crossed in amusement so Derek reaches for a cookie.
He hesitantly brings it to his lips, bites and then can't help but exclaim in surprise, "These are actually pretty good!"
"I told you!" Erica says to Issac. They immediately start bickering once more but Derek merely watches, munching the cookie and then offering one to Boyd.
OoOoOo
Later that evening, Derek actually manages to scrounge together some spaghetti for dinner and he calls Scott over, demands he get his wolf ass over there, enjoy pack time. He of course drags Stiles along too and they all sit there at the table, loudly arguing about Star Trek vs. Star Wars and their crazy lacrosse coach and something weird about when, exactly, Lindsay Lohan's career fell to pieces.
Afterwards, they all sit and watch The Breakfast Club and there's squabbling and jostling and growls over who gets the comfiest part of the couch and Derek solves it by sitting right on the spot.
He watches in amusement as Stiles and Erica sit particularly close to one another and Boyd playfully pushes Issac into the last seat available, like he's directing a lost puppy.
It's a little misguided and unorthodox and maybe the formula has been altered so many times he's forgotten the original equation, but this pack…it's what he has. It's family.
Scott, despite his complete ignorance, is actually not that bad of a guy; doing everything he can to protect those who are close.
And Stiles? He's always just helping everyone, asking nothing in return, staying up late into the night with Issac, yammering on about nonsense just so that the boy can finally fall asleep.
With Erica, there's a genuine layer beneath all the makeup and leather jackets. You just have to have a close eye. Sometimes Derek will come back to the abandoned station after spending a long day training with Scott out in the forest and find the place in absolute pristine condition and he doesn't even have to ask who did it.
Issac is so guarded and gentle and beautifully broken that he still doesn't say much. When he does, he says it with trepidation, with a trembling voice, as if he is already anticipating a physical reprimand for opening his mouth. Despite all that, sometimes he catches him hanging out with Erica and it's like they're brother and sister, arguing over whether or not to watch Game of Thrones.
Boyd is like the silent confidante that drifted in with practically genuine reasons. He has a tendency to get out of control, like they all do sometimes but there's something guarded about the boy, maybe even more guarded than Issac. Like there's a barrier that no one will ever reach unless they earn it.
And Derek? He's sitting back, orchestrating it all, strategizing, analyzing, preparing. Because there's no team without someone in control. And he's grown to like all of the teens – even some of their annoying traits, like Issac's tendency to fall asleep right on top of Derek's leg while they're watching a movie or Erica's teenage girl philosophy that she lifted from reading issues of Cosmo. Because they're a new bunch, all these wolves (and Stiles). They came marching in with different patterns, with different melodies and tones and sometimes Derek feels like the conductor, directing them all on the correct journeys so that they can coalesce into a family.
Not like he'll ever admit that out loud or anything.
He is Derek Hale, after all.
The end!