Just a short chapter to check in with Derek and see how he's doing!

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For a person who had recently lived in a world that was inhabited by monsters of a different kind, of a human kind, being thrown into the world of the supernatural was kind of like having the entire world get tipped over. Not just tipped over but tossed around and mixed up with everything being put in a brand new place that still didn't quite make any sense. That was what it felt like to Derek Morgan. And each day, something new was tossed his way, something else was added in, and it made it harder and harder for him to find his feet. He was managing, though. Just barely.

It'd been a little over two weeks since he'd left his house with Spencer. If he'd thought things were crazy there, they hadn't exactly gotten any easier once he arrived – he'd flown! Flown! – at the new place. Derek had gone from finding out his best friend was apparently the child of angels, with wings and everything, to hearing all about the apocalypse and that some giant war that was going on. Then he'd gone with Spencer and met even more angels – archangels. One of whom it would seem had claimed Spencer like he was his own child. Hell, Derek had met freaking Lucifer himself.

Then, to keep adding on to all the weird, he'd had to stand there and watch as Spencer changed in front of him again, as the shy genius he was fell away to someone that Derek didn't know. Someone who'd had no issue whatsoever standing up to the oldest of all creations, Michael. Spencer had stood toe to toe with him and pretty much told him how it was going to be. The kid who Derek had seen duck his head and shy away from police officers who made snide remarks, who constantly deferred to the higher authority in the room – namely Aaron – and who hated confrontation of any kind. There'd been no sign of that kid anywhere in the calm and controlled man who'd stood in front of Michael and laid out for him what was going to happen and how it was going to be done. He'd denied any sense of leadership and yet that was the aura he'd had around him. He'd been a leader in that moment. It was something that still stunned Derek.

After that came the bunker. Or, the Bat-Cave as Dean liked to call it. This place was like a central hub for the wide-world-of-weird.

Every single day seemed to bring something new and strange along with it and Derek felt kind of like he was barely holding his head up under it all.

Spencer had been fantastic. Though Derek could tell that the kid was taking on so much – way, way too much – he always made sure that he had time for Derek. He kept him close when they were together, made sure that he was all right, even tried to make sure that Derek ate, the little dork. He also stopped by most evenings and the two spent a little time together, just them. There, in the privacy of Derek's room, they were free to talk about whatever they wanted. About home, about their friends, about this whole mess. Spencer never seemed to mind answering Derek's questions, either. It was one of the few times that Derek could remember not once cutting off one of Spencer's rambles. He tried to absorb all of it that he could.

"I know this is difficult, Morgan." Spencer had told him the other night. He'd looked sort of sad in that moment, the apology clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry about this. This… it wasn't what I wanted for you. For any of you."

"I'm where I want to be." Derek had replied. To him, that was that.

Whether or not Spencer wanted him here, or wished he was somewhere safer, there was no place else that Derek wanted to be. He could handle the strangeness and all the weird crap. He could handle the angels who popped in and out. If it meant being here with Spencer, being able to see that he was safe, Derek would handle any of it.

It helped that he'd gotten close with Dean and Castiel, too. Dean was, well, he was an easy guy to talk to. Nothing at all like what their profiles had stated about the Winchesters. Finding out that all that had been wrong, that these guys weren't killers but were hunters, had changed quite a bit. Talking with Dean was a lot easier than talking to pretty much anyone else here, except Spencer. He was enough like Derek that they could sit and talk about cars, or music, or weapons, and it was comfortable and easy. Dean didn't seem to mind answering questions either. Nor did he make Derek feel dumb for asking them. Plus, if Derek asked him a question, it usually came with either a practical demonstration of something, a story about a time they'd fought some creature or used some weapon, or a little bit of both.

Castiel – now, he wasn't like Dean, and he wasn't like Derek. If he was like anyone it would be Spencer, and that was what made it so easy for Derek to talk with him. Castiel was a lot like Spencer had been when he'd first joined the Bureau. Quiet, a bit withdrawn, and lacking an understanding of pretty much any social skills. The only differences were that Castiel carried this air about him that put Derek in mind of soldiers. Ready to fight if need be, with a look about him that said he'd already seen plenty of war. Spencer had never had that look. At least, not until recently.

But for all the things that had changed on him, there were some things that were still the same. It was kind of a comfort to see that those hadn't changed, either.

Derek had been sent to grab Sam and Spencer for dinner, something which had to happen pretty much every night. Those two got so sucked into what they were reading they had to be reminded to surface once in a while.

It eased a little of the ache in Derek to take a moment and look at Spencer as he worked. This was a side of Spencer that he knew well. Even with all the other changes that the kid had undergone, this was a part of him that had stayed the same and it was a part Derek knew well. Spencer always got absorbed into his work. At the moment he had books spread out in front of him, a notebook near his hand, and he was moving through the pages in front of him with the kind of speed that Derek had never seen on anyone else. His hair, which had gotten surprisingly long, was pulled back in a half ponytail, something that was different. As were his clothes.

Those had taken a bit of getting used to. More often than not Spencer seemed to dress in a much more relaxed manner than before. Khakis, often, though he still had some slacks, and looser shirts that were made of a light sort of material that was extremely soft. Gone were the sweaters and vests. Derek hadn't seen him in one the entire time he'd been here. The lack of a gun on his hip was weird as well, only this was a good kind of weird. But there were so many things about Spencer that seemed vastly different from the kid Derek had gotten to know. He had to remind himself sometimes that Spencer was still the same person.

Then Spencer shifted, his pen going to his mouth for a moment so he could free up his hands, and Derek watched as the kid fumbled and almost dropped his book, just barely managing to get it and keep the stack beside it from falling over. A grin curved Derek's lips. Yeah, things might change, but there was plenty that was still the same.

Pushing off from the wall, he made his way over towards the two. "Hey, boys. Dean sent me out here to fetch you."

It was Sam who looked up. Though he could get just as drawn in as Spencer, he also kept the most focus on the world around him as if he were used to having to respond to someone at all times. "Is it dinner already?"

"Yep." Derek stopped at Spencer's side and reached out to tap a finger on the book the kid held. He knew better than to try and tap Spencer. "That means you too, kid. Come on, it's time to put the books away for a while and come eat."

Spencer didn't look up from the page he was reading. "You do realize that there's a high probability that I don't actually need to eat anymore, don't you? I'm almost positive I only need to eat for enjoyment and not actual sustenance anymore."

Well that was a new little fact Derek hadn't know. One that he'd have to poke at the kid about later. Right now, he focused on extracting Spencer from his books because he knew better than anyone that the kid needed to take breaks. If left alone he'd just immerse himself in the books around him and forget that the world even existed. He could get caught up in facts and statistics and all sorts of information until he forgot about almost everything else. He was worse about it on cases and Derek could only imagine that this kind of 'case' would only make that trait worse. So, Derek put on his firmest voice and laid his palm flat over the book. "No one's saying you have to eat. But you need to get up and take a break, Reid. Let all the information settle in your brain before you start adding in more. You know you always do better that way."

"Come on, Spencer. He's right. That's enough for today." Sam said. Suiting actions to words, he closed not only his book, but he reached over and Derek pulled his hand back just in time for Sam to close Spencer's as well. When it looked like Spencer was going to argue, Sam just looked at him, one eyebrow arching in a way that Derek had seen Gabriel do, and the kid actually quieted down. He grumbled, but he didn't try and pick his book back up. The whole thing was amusing. It reminded Derek of a parent scolding their child, which honestly seemed to kind of fit considering that Gabriel was like a surrogate dad and Sam seemed to be Gabriel's partner – which, okay, mind blowing all on its own. Gay angels? That took a bit of Derek's worldview and tossed it on its head.

Together, the trio made their way towards the kitchen. Spencer sulked, though Derek knew the kid wouldn't admit to it even if they called him on it. But that was very much a sulk he was wearing. It made Derek's lips twitch a little, and a look over to Sam showed that the tall hunter was just as amused by it all.

Dean looked up the minute they walked into the kitchen. "Bout time you guys joined us." His eyes ran over Sam in that look that Derek had come to recognize, the one that he thought was sort of instinctive for Dean, checking on his little brother and making sure that he was okay and still in the same condition he'd been the last time Dean had seen him. Then his eyes moved over to Spencer to do the same thing with him. He took in the look on Spencer's face and lifted his eyebrows. "Who pissed in your cornflakes?"

The confused look that crossed Spencer's face was almost identical to the one that Castiel was wearing. The two stared at Dean in open confusion and Derek couldn't help himself. He laughed and shook his head. Reaching out, he curled his hand over Spencer's shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. "Don't worry about it, Reid." He patted Spencer's shoulder and then nudged him towards the table. "Come on, have a seat."

"I don't understand why none of you seem capable of speaking plainly." Spencer grumbled at them. He allowed Derek to lead him forward and even direct him down into a chair.

Snorting, Dean grabbed up the pot of whatever he'd made and carried it over to the table. "I don't understand how it is you grew up human and understand less references than Cas does."

There was only a minuscule flinch to give away any discomfort Spencer felt at that remark. The hunters might not have seen it, but Derek did. He knew how to read Spencer's face. He knew his tells.

Something told him the angel understood as well. His eyes had drifted over Spencer's shoulders and then back to his face, a hint of worry seeping through. Derek had a feeling that whatever Spencer was trying not to show was coming through a lot clearer in his wings than in the rest of him. Spencer had already explained once that wings were another part of the body and as such could be read for cues just like a body could.

As he'd done plenty of times in the past, Derek stepped in and steered the conversation away from his friend. "I don't understand why we're sitting here bickering when you've got a pot of something that smells delicious. What the hell did you make there, Winchester?"

"He's like a regular Martha Stewart over here." Sam teased his brother.

And just like that, the attention was off of Spencer and onto the food and the Winchester brothers. Out of the corner of his eye Derek caught the grateful look that his friend wore and he sent a wink Spencer's way. No matter what else was going on around them, he was always going to have Spencer's back, even when it came to the little things.

That little bit of normalcy in the midst of all the chaos was kind of like a balm for Derek. He wasn't entirely sure about everything else – some days he felt like he was floundering with just barely a grip on the life raft to help him stay afloat – but there were some things that never changed. As he sat there eating dinner with his best friend, laughing at Dean's horrible jokes and sharing 'little brother stories' that had Spencer and Sam scowling, Derek thought that maybe his grip was getting just a little bit stronger, the raft he was clinging to a little steadier. He just hoped he'd be able to climb on in enough time to be able to stand at his friend's side.