Work Text:
Derek wakes to the smell of pancakes and bacon. Strains of music filter into his awareness next, along with the burbling of an old coffee pot. Not any old coffee pot, Derek realizes with a start, the old coffee pot. The one in his old house. The one that chugged and popped and hissed and spit hot coffee at you if you got too close to it before it was done percolating. How....
He is off his bed and halfway across the room before he recognizes exactly where he is. It's his old bedroom, with the posters on the wall, the scuffed wood floors and the quilt Nana Hale made for him when he was born lying crumpled on the bed. It's his old bedroom because he's in the old house, back as it was before the fire. He takes stock of his senses then and yes, there is his mother in the kitchen humming along to the radio as she moved around his father who's manning the stove. Laura is in living room, fighting over the TV remote with Cora. He reaches out further and is lost in the wash of pack. Family. Parents, siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins. Hales.
It's impossible.
He looks down at himself. He's not a teenager, he's not lost in his memories. He's an adult. An alpha. And not alone.
"Derek!" Laura yells up to him. "Get your lazy butt down here or I'm eating your share!" There's a snap and a yelp as dad thwacks her with a towel and Derek can hear their laughter as it drifts up the stairs.
None of this is real. He knows that, but even as he shakes his head, trying to wake up, trying to pull himself out of whatever spell he's fallen into he finds himself yelling back, "I'm coming!"