"Just a dream," Derek murmured, wiping sweat from his brow as he stood up. He walked into the kitchen and started the coffee machine. The caffeine didn't really do anything unless he drank enough to supercharge a race car, and even then he barely got a buzz. He just liked the taste.
He'd picked up the habit after the fire, after his dad...
He shoved away the thoughts and wished he could have Cora wake him up again Christmas morning. He wished he could smear icing cheerfully on Peter's face. He wished he could help prepare the Christmas ham with his dad.
His chest ached at the memories and he sighed. It was really no use dwelling on the past when he couldn't do anything to change it. He drank another cup of black coffee–sans sugar, which Stiles had always complained about–and had poured a third when the doorbell rang again.
He stared at it through squinty eyes–which Stiles no doubt would have made fun of had he been there–and carefully set his mug down. It was one of the only things that survived the fire and something that his mother had gotten him when he started high school, claiming he could use it on his late night study breaks.
He knew it was really just an apology since she'd decided to pass down being Alpha to Laura rather than himself.
He strode closer to the door and the bell rang again. He contemplated just staying silent and seeing if whoever it was would go away. Then they rang the doorbell again and he made up his mind. "Go away," he ordered, growling slightly.
The doorbell rang again and he ignored it, instead sitting on the couch to watch the movie. The cushion beside him sagged causing him to snap his attention beside him.
There sat Isaac, all curly haired and pale. He grinned brightly and Derek got a sinking feeling. "Let me guess, the future?"
"Nope," Isaac smiled, "present. We go in succession, Derek."
"Then who's next? After you?" If he was getting suspicious he had all rights, this kind of thing only happened in movies and books.
"That's for me to keep hidden and you to find out," Isaac replied easily.
All the crypticness (is that even a word, Derek?) was starting to make his head spin. "Okay. Alright. So now what? You show me Stiles weeping about how the big bad alpha ruined his perfect little plans?"
"No, actually," Isaac said, straightening his back slightly. "For you to understand completely I have to take you back a while then show you Stiles' weeping."
If Derek's chest felt like it tightened then that was his business. "Fine," he said.
Isaac smiled and raised his hand. He pressed two fingers to Derek's forehead and a chill filled his body.
::V::
"What the hell is this?" Derek heard himself growl. He opened his eyes and was greeted with what likely passed as the strangest thing he'd ever seen.
He and Isaac, spirit Isaac that is (as that's the only slightly accurate description Derek could come up with,) stood to the side, just behind the couch. They watched as Derek reprimanded his pack.
"Merry Christmas!" Stiles cheered, holding up a small snow globe. Derek hadn't taken the chance to actually look at it before–
The sound of glass shattering brought Derek back and he winced as Stiles made an indignant sound as he knelt to pick up the shattered pieces of the snow globe.
"What the hell, Derek-" Scott started, only to be stopped as Derek's angry snarl was turned on him.
"I won't ask again," Derek growled, "what the hell–" he motioned around "–is all of this?"
"Decorations," Stiles said. "We thought you could use a little Xmas cheer." Stiles was wearing a sour expression and Derek found himself regretting his overreaction. Not that he could do anything about it now...
"Yeah, Derek-" Isaac started.
"You stay out of this," Derek growled (God, he really does growl a lot doesn't he?) and turned towards Stiles again. "Explain."
"Dude, chill. It's Christmas. How could anybody hate Christmas?" Stiles crossed his arms and Derek saw his nose twitch, which meant that, yeah, he'd smelt blood. "I mean, it's not really possible to be all 'Bah Humbug, I hate you all' on the holidays, is it?"
Derek just... stared. And Stiles kept his gaze.
"We've never seen you celebrate once, so..." Stiles motioned around and Derek realised something he hadn't before. He and Stiles had both been standing under the little sprout of mistletoe.
"Can you really blame a guy for some Christmas cheer? I mean, so what if Santa Claus doesn't exist, it's the idea of family, of pack, that really matters, isn't it? Just hanging out with friends is enough, right?"
"Get. Out." Derek said. His eyes were still glowing and he had his fangs clinched tightly, so much that Derek could feel the pain just looking at himself. "All of you!" he shouted.
He watched his pack hurry out and himself kick the small potted Charlie Brown tree over before collecting the scattered pine cones and heading for the balcony.
The scene faded and Derek frowned. "Now what?"
"Now I show you what's currently happening," Isaac responded. He held out his hand, "Come on, it'll be a quick jump."
Derek tentatively held his hand out and Isaac barely had his hand on Derek's skin before the scene was changing.
He stood in Stiles' room, the same corner he'd scared the hell out of Stiles in all those years back. The whole 'my cousin, Miguel' thing came back and he flashed his eyes subconsciously.
Stiles wasn't even in the room. Was he supposed to go somewhere? Was he supposed to search for Stiles? Was this a jo-?
Stiles walked through the open door with a loud groan. "Stupid Derek," he growled. "Stupid anti-Claus. That's what he is," he hummed, "Derek the big bad anti-Claus."
He snorted and flopped down in his desk chair. Derek found himself frowning.
"I mean, he's not even that far off. All he needs is a holly wreath to mark the doors of his sacrifices." Stiles waved his hands dramatically and Derek realised the bandage wrapped around the palm of Stiles' hand.
"Can't even appreciate a gift..." Stiles dumped the broken remains of the snow globe onto his desk and scowled at it. "And I can't even fix it..."
He rested one arm on the desk and put his chin on it, messing with a part of the snow globe that Derek couldn't see. He stepped forward to get a better look and found a small ceramic wolf under Stiles' finger. It looked like it was howling up at the moon on a snow covered cliff...
And Derek had shattered it, destroyed the small piece of beauty that Stiles had brought him. A pang went through his chest and he realised Isaac was hovering over him.
"Ready to move on?"
Derek nodded, suddenly feeling as if he had cotton stuffed in his mouth. His throat was dry and felt constructed, as if he couldn't swallow even if he wanted.
Isaac didn't seem to need oral confirmation, however, and simply grabbed Derek's wrist again.
Next he was standing in Scott's room, watching Isaac pace back and forth in a tight line. Scott sat on his bed, watching Isaac.
"I mean, he wouldn't even let me speak. He just- ugh!" Isaac's hands flew up to his mess of tan curls and tangled into the locks. "Why do we even stick around?"
"Because he's our Alpha," Scott suggested sourly. He had his phone out and was typing a message.
"What are you doing?" Isaac asked. "You smell... emotional."
"Stiles just told me to cancel."
Isaac apparently understood because he nodded minutely. "I'll text Allison, you got Lydia?"
"Yeah."
A moment of silence passed before Isaac was starting up again. "You know, sometimes it's really hard not to hate the guy," he grumbled. "I'll bet he burned all those stockings."
"And Stiles had to save up for like, what, five months?"
"Would've been longer," Isaac admitted sheepishly. "I was sneaking in extra money when I could."
Scott grinned. "I was too. Those gift socks cost a small fortune to get them customised like that."
Isaac nodded darkly. "I can't believe I helped Erica search through Derek's grandmother's old cookbook for a recipe she had marked under the 'Der-Bear' section. And Stiles spent a good amount of time perfecting that recipe too."
Scott nodded. "He might've gone a little overboard with the cinnamon though..."
"Well he is human. Different taste and smell."
A tapping on his shoulder startled him slightly and he was tearing his eyes away from Isaac to... look as Isaac. Well if that wasn't mind boggling.
"I've seen enough." Derek said.
Isaac studied him carefully. "Alright." He grabbed Derek's wrist and he was back on his couch, as if he'd never left in the first place.
