Derek woke up to a rapping on the door. He hadn't even registered falling asleep.
With a deep groan he got up to open the door. "Can I help-?" He raised an eyebrow at the empty hallway.
Great. Some kid had decided to play ding-dong-ditch.
With a low growl Derek turned around–and most definitely did not jump when he came face to face with Boyd. "What the hell are you doing here?" he growled. "I thought I told you to go home."
Boyd just stared.
Derek squinted. "Get out."
"Derek," Boyd said, his voice holding an eerie chill.
"Out!" Derek demanded. He even stepped aside so Boyd could leave.
Yet Boyd just stood there. Staring.
Derek flashed his eyes and tried again. "Get. Out."
Boyd moved–yet, with a jolt, Derek realised it wasn't out. He lifted a hand a touched Derek's forehead and a shocking cold went through his body.
"What are you-"
"I'm here to show you the past," Boyd said, his brown eyes remaining calm as shackles wrapped around Derek's wrists.
He cried out for help as the light faded, even shook the manacles, but nothing seemed to work. He was trapped.
::V::
Derek didn't know how long he'd hung there, alternately demanding help and trying to break free, but he didn't like it any less when a small stream of yellow light filtered in. He then realised he was in a basement of sorts and struggled again to try and free himself.
"Let me go," he demanded, and was confused when it wasn't his voice that spoke. It was, but not at the same time.
Derek glaringly watched the dark figure descend the stairs. He growled, letting his wolf transform.
"Derek," spoke a voice, a painfully familiar voice, "I'm so sorry." Where did he know that voice? "It's just, you were losing control and mom didn't want you to go all berserk on the sheriff and his family."
Laura stepped into view and Derek sucked in a breath. "But you're dead," he found himself saying, then wincing.
Yet Laura didn't seem to hear him and continued on as if he'd never spoken. "Come on, let's get you back upstairs."
Then Derek realised it. This wasn't Laura. Not really. She was younger, more frail looking. She couldn't have been older than fourteen, which meant Derek himself was eight and Cora was three. Meaning she didn't have to worry about shifting yet.
Laura unlocked the cuffs and Derek fell to the floor. He let her help him up and to the dining room while his thoughts swam.
This wasn't possible, he reasoned as Laura sat him down. There was no way he could've traveled sixteen years into the past.
He looked around the room and found everyone happily talking and eating. He desperately wanted this. He wanted for the fire to never have happened.
Derek straightened slightly. "Mom!" he shouted. She ignored him. He scowled and tried again. "Dad?"
No one seemed to have heard him. His chest ached.
"They can't hear you."
Derek turned around at the familiar voice and glared at Boyd. "What did you do to me?"
"I'm showing you the past."
Cryptic. Thanks Boyd.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Watch."
Derek really wanted to lunge forward and sink his claws into Boyd's throat and rip. He was the reason Derek was here, feeling the pain brand new again as if the fire had just happened. But before he could move Boyd was gone, and Derek was stuck in a memory where he could only watch and hurt.
After the meal Thalia ushered Derek to the washroom and scrubbed his face clean with a washcloth. He weakly batted at her hands and an involuntary yawn fought it's way out.
"Looks like somebody's tired," she said, smiling down at him. God how Derek missed that smile. "Come on, off to bed."
Derek allowed himself, knowing that it wouldn't do him any good to fight it. If this is what had happened there was nothing he could do to change it.
As soon as he was in bed he was being woken up. By a very hyper, very small Cora.
She bounced on him and then flopped down onto his chest. "C'mon Der, wake up!"
"What? Why?" he asked groggily, only mildly surprised when she responded.
"Is Chris'mas day!" Her dark brown hair flew about as she bounced on his chest again. "Get up, Der, get up!"
He chuckled and let her pull him out of bed. Boyd was hovering in the doorway. "What?"
"Have you learned yet?" Boyd asked.
Derek glared. "What are you getting at?" he growled.
But Boyd was gone again without responding.
And Derek was being shoved to the ground beside a tired looking Laura. His parents and Peter were sitting beside them as well. They were all gathered around a large, green Christmas tree.
Cora squealed eagerly and sat down, waiting for Thalia to start passing out the gifts. When they were all separated into piles of which is whose they were allowed to start unwrapping the gifts.
Laura got several books, none of which she was too happy about, and a small palette of makeup that she was happier of. Cora got a multitude of dolls and a hand-carved dollhouse that Peter had made himself and had to retrieve from the basement.
Derek, on the other hand, got boring items. New shoes, socks, even that Batman shirt he'd remembered being so eager to get. He grinned. It was the best gift ever and he was easier to shop for than his sisters. He at least preferred practical things.
The day dragged on as it had all those years ago and Derek was happy, really and truly happy. He grinned with his family, laughed at their jokes, and even lost himself in one of their festive icing wars which ended with most of the icing on them and the floor rather than the cupcakes.
Derek was almost so caught up with his family that he nearly forgot he wasn't actually there. Until Boyd showed up again.
Boyd was ever the looming figure, just there, and Derek frowned slightly. "What?"
"You've learned," Boyd responded, the same level of cryptic that Stiles would have said put Deaton's to shame. Speaking of Stiles, he would have been two and probably not yet connected by the hip to Scott. Boyd raised his arm again to tap Derek's forehead and he tried to pull away.
Before, of course, he realised it was inevitable. He just wanted to stay with his family, to have that happiness again.
He jolted awake on the couch.