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Derek wanted to think it was funny that the jacket wrapped around his shoulders smelled like pine and cinnamon, he wanted to find some sort of irony that the cover provided for him from the officer on his case smelled just like his father. As if the universe were wrapping him up in a scent that would probably haunt him forever just like his mistakes.
People could say that it was an accident…a gas leak…an unfortunate act of arson performed by some random low life but Derek Hale knew better. He knew that the reason his home was a shell was because of his mistake. Because of his stupidity, he had lost everything and while Laura tried to give a statement through her tears, he could count nearly every drop that landed on the floor. Tears caused by grief, betrayal, anger…of course for Laura, it was just pain, but for Derek, every drop felt as if his sins were being mapped out across the olive plains of his sister’s face.
The station smelled different outside of his cocoon of forest and ginger snaps, it smelled like metal, gun powder, and blood. It also smelled like smoke but Derek liked to think that smell had trailed in on the coats of the officers who had left the scene. A trail of the despair that might never go away, Derek briefly wondered if Beacon Hills would become coated in the stench of burnt flesh. Like a memorial for all time to those that were lost.
Laura always said that Derek had a flair for the dramatics in his own, pensive way…well now his head was creating a full on masterpiece of death and grief and there would be no stopping it. He could already feel the obsession of anger slipping into his veins and poisoning him, the worst thing about it was he had no idea where to direct his anger.
He could direct it onto Kate but she was long gone, he had called her fifteen times with no use…he could be angry at the police for not doing a better job of investigating, but it didn’t make sense. So he directed it at himself, a nuke, ready to be lit to demolish the boy and his wolf before he could ruin his life even further.
It was at the time of Derek’s internal struggle that the front doors opened up and a woman came walking in with a ten year old boy clutching her hand. From where the young werewolf was sitting he could hear the squeak of tennis shoes and his eyes flickered from the floor he was boring holes into to the heels that lit up at every step. The scent that trailed in was a mixture of lavender, mint, chocolate, and fresh cut grass. For a split second it over came the stench of smoke and the aroma of the officer who had been so kind to him (while simultaneously triggering something within Derek), Derek noticed it enough to fully look up and take in the newcomers who just merged into the buzz of the station.
Beacon Hills may not have been tiny but it wasn’t exactly a town full of murders and fires. The situation with the Hales was big enough to bring in newscasters from San Diego. Everything was a bit wild. So while the woman who held the boy’s hand looked determined with her carton of cookies, the little boy beside her was looking around with an open mouth and eyes as big as the moon but as dark as chocolate. Derek glanced to his right when the officer who had given Derek his jacket walked by swiftly, he greeted the two at the door and kissed the woman on the corner of her mouth. They exchanged a soft greeting and he relayed what had happened. When the male reached for the bin of treats, the woman snatched her hand back and reprimanded him with an, “Ah ah. Your sugar intake this month is off the charts, or so says the doctor, you’re not getting these until after dinner.”
“Well then who-“ The man’s voice sounded clearly perturbed but when his wife, Derek assumed she was his wife, turned her gaze to the orphaned boy to answer a question that had yet to be finished, he sighed and dropped his shoulders. “I see. I see…do you need me to-“
“No, I’ve got it honey, go back to work. Stiles is craving pizza tonight and I promised him we would get it.” The boy at her side bounced on his toes with a grin.
“Can we get pineapples on it,” Stiles asked, his voice nearly squeaking and reminding Derek of a mouse, except he definitely was not as meek as one. He wouldn’t stop moving around and his big eyes flickered between both parents while his mother just laughed and his father sighed.
“Yes,” His mother replied at the time the father started to shake his head.
“Awesome,” He yelped, the woman shrugged her brows at the officer who wanted to groan but pressed his lips together instead. The little boy’s mother tugged on Stiles’ hand and she led the boy away from the long suffering father towards the teenager who still had the jacket around his shoulders and clenched in tight fists.
“Hello,” The woman began, smiling in a way that clearly expressed her sympathy, but then it brightened and Derek quickly linked the expression up to the shining of the sun coming through a mountain of rain clouds. Derek didn’t say anything at first, he just looked at her as if he were a wounded animal, ready to jet at any second should she expose herself as a threat. She let go of the little boy at her side who was now blatantly staring at Derek as if he were some sort of painting. Derek wondered if that was the case with the smudges of ash on his cheek and the rim of red around his eyes.
Elegant hands turned over the clear box of cookies and Derek straightened as they were offered to him, “I made these for you. They’re my special recipe so they’re especially delicious.”
“It’s true,” The boy with the buzz cut interjected, “I keep telling my Mommy that they taste like pieces of Candy Land but she won’t believe me…mainly because Candy Land isn’t real but if it were they would smell and taste like her cookies.” The mother smiled and looked down at her son with clear affection and it made Derek’s chest ache.
Without a word, Derek reached up and took the box. Maybe then they would go away. Instead, the woman just seemed to sit down in the blue plastic seat right beside Derek and look ahead with a sigh. The sudden decrease of space between them made Derek straighten in his seat immediately. He was about to thank the woman until Stiles jumped forward and grinned at him. Derek saw a tooth was missing, and Stiles suddenly said, “Guess who came to my house last night?”
The young werewolf shook his head, indicating he had no idea and was not about to guess…at all.
“The tooth fairy, duh! Ugh it was so awesome, I was lying in bed, minding my own business and having dreams about being Batman when all of a sudden this little woman flew past my ear-I woke up because I heard her wings and when I peeked an eye open she was glowing yellow,” Stiles spoke with such conviction Derek could have been persuaded that the story was true. Instead he shook his head and replied, “No such thing.”
Derek almost found something funny for a split second in the way Stiles’ little chin dropped and he replied, “Yes there it is! God who took away your joy and happiness? Fairies, Santa Clause the Easter Bunny…all real. So you have to smile,” He insisted.
When Derek fixed Stiles with a blank stare, the younger boy furrowed his brows and stomped up to him. Pointing at the wolf’s face he ordered, “Smile! …Now. There’s no reason not to smile-if anything at least smile for the fact that I got a trip from the tooth fairy and that you have cookies.”
“Stiles,” The woman beside Derek began, her voice soft, “Derek here is not in the mood for your pestering.”
“I won’t pester if he just-AH! I saw it,” He exclaimed, all wide eyed and grinning Derek just arched a brow.
Okay so his mouth might have curved up for a second, big deal.
“I got my smile. I promise to send the smile fairy your way soon,” He nodded seriously. Derek narrowed his eyes but Stiles interrupted the beat of silence with the words of, “I know, I know. No such thing. Well for a minute there I thought your smiles were non-existent so, never say that again.”
Despite the sudden urge of wanting to throw the box of cookies he had been given at Stiles’ head, Derek actually had to sit back and just look at the kid. The little thing of limbs and pale flesh was smiling like he had just won a prize and it honestly confused the werewolf. In the end he HAD smiled, after the shock, the tears that were swept away by angry, shaking heads, the grief…he had managed to lift his mouth, only a little and respond to the pure silliness that was this kid. It mystified him for a second, while Stiles bounced on his toes a few times, seemingly uncomfortable but just as curious until he turned to his mother.
“Can we go now,” His voice had dissolved into a childish whine and Derek’s shoulders tensed up again while his fingers nearly went white against the container. “I’m hungry and since I can’t have any cookies by my tummy is working in over drive, you know what happens when that goes on, I can barely even move, you’ll have to carry me around and then-“
“Ah,” Stiles’ mother jumped to her feet and interrupted her son’s babbling, Derek noted she had been amused through it all. “There’s your father now, so go to him.”
The boy went running and slowly the older woman turned to Derek, his head moved as she slowly crouched down in front of him, he kept track of every movement and didn’t blink when their eyes met. “Happiness may seem as real as the tooth fairy to you right now, Derek…but don’t stop believing. One day there will be a reason to smile again. A real, honest to God smile so my advice to you is to keep living, day to day, searching for that reason.” Those words ripped right through his heart and even though his need to live for revenge and retribution over shadowed them instantly, he seemed to tilt up his chin, and gave a nod.
Her smile was bright, nearly identical to her son’s, and when she left, Derek kept a memory of the sight to remember when the rain fell a little too hard and the days ended a little too dark.
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Eight years passed before Derek’s mouth had tilted up in a smile full of pearly teeth and eyes that sparkled. Eight years had thrown him loop for loop, eight years failed to lessen the grief of losing his whole family and eight years had made him angry to his core.
Still, eight years gave him the chance to smile again, and when he did he just watched the boy with short brown hair running around the forest clearing as one of his pups chased him in circles after a very spot on performance of a Boyd impression.