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When Derek walks through the door of the grand estate he’s struck by what has become a familiar sensation: the feeling of being slightly pressed in. The first time it happened was jarring but now he’s used to the way the mountain ash lined wood feels. He walks to the front desk where Gale is sitting and waits until she gets off the phone.
“Hi Derek.” She smiles warmly and pushes the visitor’s log book towards him.
“Hey. How are you today?” he asks warmly and takes the attached pen to scrawl his name into the rectangular box there.
“I worked a double so just this side of punchy. He’s been asking for you all morning.”
Derek’s heart skips a beat in relief and excitement, “Has he?”
“Haven’t been able to shut him up. Go on up.” She smiles encouragingly.
“Thanks Gale.” He smiles and turns to trudge up the right side of the grand spiral staircase. He makes it to the second floor and walks briskly to room 217. Derek has barely opened the door when he’s almost tackled to the ground.
He laughs as his back closes the door and holds on as tightly as he’s being held. He lets his husband take a big sniff of his neck while he rubs circles in his lower back.
“You are…14 minutes late.” Scott says when he finally pulls away.
“Baby there was traffic. Gimme a brea--” Derek starts and is cut off by Scott’s soft lips. The bag and flowers he had clutched in his hands fall to the ground with a soft thud as Derek’s hands find the back of Scott’s head and he kisses back enthusiastically.
“Happy anniversary.” Scott smiles breathlessly after a minute of kissing.
“Happy anniversary.” Derek replies back and brings his hand up to brush through Scott’s beard.
His husband jumps out of his arms and grabs his hand, “Let’s go.”
“Scott wait.”
“Derek no. We’ve already lost 14 minutes…16 if you count the kissing.” Scott is practically bouncing out of his skin. It’s hard for Derek to keep the smile off his face. It’s good to see his husband like this…so much like he used to be before everything happened.
“Scott.” Derek says firmly and steadies the younger man with a hand on his forearm, “put on some shoes.”
“Oh.” Scott scrunches his face and looks down at his bare feet, “right.”
He watches Scott scurry and put on the lace-less pumpkin seed white sneakers and take Derek’s hand again, “Ok come on.”
Scott leads them out the back of the St. Luca’s estate where the garden is. It’s more like a mini-forest with a white marble fountain right in the middle. They walk farther to a more secluded area. Derek can sense the other weres around but he appreciates the fact that they keep their distance to give them some semblance of privacy.
When they get to the large sycamore tree there Derek softly gasps at the sight: a checkered blanket is laid down with a brown wicker picnic basket, a vase with a single rose inside and a gift bag next to it. Derek’s sense of smell picks up on fried chicken, biscuits, and macaroni salad.
“I talked to Gary and he helped me make the chicken.” Scott smiles proudly.
Derek gives him another long kiss before they head over and sit down.
“So…presents first or food first?” Derek asks his husband.
“Presents while we still have time.” Scott answers immediately.
They left the bouquet of yellow tulips in Scott’s room but Derek hands over the large bag he brought with him and watches Scott’s face light up when he unearths the expensive art set Derek brought.
“Babe…” Scott says in wonder.
Derek shrugs one shoulder, “You said you were drawing more lately so…why not draw with the best tools, right?”
“Derek this…” Scott foregoes finishing his sentence to tackle Derek to the ground again and kiss him instead. The kiss is playful and full of giggles and wandering hands, “Ok your turn.”
Scott produces the smaller bag he has with a flourish. Derek guesses it’s probably a framed photograph of them and when he opens it finds that he’s partially right. The picture in the middle of the canvas is Derek’s favorite of he and Scott. It was Scott’s 22nd birthday and the pack had gathered at their loft for a small party. Scott was seated on Derek’s lap with the biggest (and most smug) grin while Derek’s head was thrown back in the throes of laughter with tears running down his red face. Scott’s corny jokes were always his undoing. The picture is adorned with bursts of reds, oranges, and yellows.
“I know it’s not much--” Scott starts to say.
“It’s perfect.” Derek interrupts and kisses him again.
“Food now?” Scott implores.
“Food now.”
They sit in relative silence as they devour the chicken and macaroni salad and pink lemonade. They’re shamelessly cheesy as they feed each other forkfuls of marble cheesecake. Scott uses the Polaroid camera that Stiles managed to find on Etsy to take embarrassing (and surprisingly good) selfies of them that he gathers in a pile and puts in the large scrapbook he also had outside with them.
Scott sits comfortably in the vee of Derek’s legs with his back pressed against his husband’s front when he finally asks the question.
“How long was I gone this time?” It’s soft, quiet, but not too much.
Derek sighs heavily and keeps running his hand across Scott’s hairy belly, “93 days.”
The impact of Scott’s sigh rocks them back a little, “It’s getting longer and longer Derek. You can’t keep--”
“I’m not abandoning you.” Derek says firmly.
Scott may not remember but they have this conversation every time. It’s been two years now. Two years since some vengeful, rogue hunter had shot Scott in the head with a silver bullet. They had managed to get him to Dr. Deaton in time to save his life. But not his memories. At first they had kept him at home, Derek refusing to have his husband of 3 years go anywhere else, but when Scott lost time…well, having an alpha werewolf with no memory of who he was or what he was wasn’t safe for anyone.
So they had found St. Luca’s: a home specifically for the supernatural that would take care of Scott. It was about an hour away from Beacon Hills and it was the best they could do. When Scott remembered it was great and most of the time his memory stayed for some time…the longest so far had been 45 days. But when his memories fled again it was—devastating wasn’t enough to describe it. This stint had been the longest one yet.
“I just—ok, Derek. Help me with this then.” Scott starts to protest and then gives up. It’s their 6th year anniversary and Derek is glad not to argue.
He helps Scott glue the pictures they took of the day into his scrapbook (it was a suggestion by his therapist as a way to keep him busy and to help him trigger memories when he was gone) and describe the day. Derek also tells him about how everyone is doing: Stiles and Malia’s twin boys Scotty and Noah are getting bigger. Kira and Allison are expecting their first child, Lydia’s promotion, Mason and Liam’s engagement, Isaac’s new line of scarves, and Boyd and Erica’s new bar.
They spend another hour in the sun before going back to Scott’s room.
“I have a few more hours until I have to go. Let me just wash off this lemonade you spilled all over me--”
“I told you not to drink in the middle of my joke!” Scott protests.
Derek goes to the small bathroom attached to Scott’s room and cleans off his hands. When he goes back in Scott is standing by the window staring out of it. Derek feels a pit drop in his stomach and it only takes Scott turning to face him for Derek to know—
“Oh hello.” Scot smiles softly. He’s gone again.
Derek has to clear his throat and swallow down the lump that’s formed there, “Hi.”
“I’m…”He scrunches his face in confusion and looks down at his bracelet, “Scott. I’m Scott. Hi. I just said that.” He laughs shyly.
“I’m Derek.” He manages to rasp out. He tries to keep his emotions in check lest Scott pick up on them. He doesn’t succeed if the look of concern on the alpha’s face is any indication.
“Are you alright? Did you finish visiting someone?” Scott asks him softly.
Most of the time he remembers that he is in a hospital and why even if other details escape him.
“Um…yeah, my husband.”
“Oh I’m sorry. They take good care of us in here, I promise. If you tell me his name I’ll look out for him.” Scott tries to be encouraging.
“His name is Scott.” Derek says tightly. He tries so hard to keep it together.
“Oh that’s a nice name. Like me.” Scott almost beams, “I’ll look out for him, ok? Don’t worry.”
Scott walks up to him and squeezes his hands.
“Th-thank you. I should go.”
“Ok. Nice meeting you Derek.” Scott smiles softly and goes back to the window.
With one last look at his husband, Derek takes his present and leaves the room as quickly as he can. It’s not until he’s downstairs, has signed out, found his car and locked the doors that he breaks down in tears. Derek takes out a black notebook from his back pocket, turns to a fresh page and writes the date in the top left corner. Then he draws one dash on the blank page.
Day one.