Chapter Text
Somewhere along the line, Derek must’ve forgotten that there was no such thing as “fresh air” in the whole of New York City, and that there was a reason he was a hermit. (Or, well, Laura called him a hermit. He just didn’t like smog, or people, or loud noises, or people.) Even so, he tugged on a jacket and pocketed his phone, stepping out into the hallway of his apartment building. He could hear no less than three babies crying, four couples arguing, and two in the process of passionately making up from arguing, and cursed his werewolf hearing; he’d already had to become a mouth-breather to avoid having the ever-present scent of the city-- a mix of piss, sweat, sewage, and sex-- eternally imprinted in his nostrils, so powers-that-be forbid he’d ever have to invest in ear plugs. He refused to be that kind of person.
He opted to take the stairs instead of the elevator, both for time reasons and the fact that he always felt a bit bad after sitting in front of the computer, tapping messages and banning the stupid goddamn roleplayers that seemed to be finding the chatroom all the time nowadays. He half-smiled at his doorman, who quite classily burped back, and pushed out into the bustling streets, immediately being swallowed into a crowd of suits, shopping bags, and cameras. Conversation snippets assaulted him ( “-- Told you to turn there--”/ “No, no, no, drop it! Sell it, now!” / “-- Told Janet, who told Emma, who told me, I mean ohmyGOWD, Lisa!”) and he almost missed the buzzing of his phone to signal new messages. Derek slipped it from his pocket: a text from Laura, and some chat news. He’d set it up so he could mod on his phone, too, because you never knew what trouble people like Harper and Jezebel could be getting into without someone watching over them. (They were the two other regulars in the chat, whichwitch and drewitdruid; a pair of magically inclined siblings who Laura had met… god knows when and where. All Derek knew was that they had the ability to be annoying little shits, and that neither of them seemed like fans of capitalization.)
Really, other than them, and Laura, there were only a few people who logged in more than once or twice. The supernatural community, it seemed, was having a hard time adjusting to the twenty-first century, and most of those who weren’t just teenagers with their clichéd vampire girls just came in once or twice and were never to be heard from again; wanted some information or just to see if Bane was for real. Blinski182 was actually their first signup in forever, and Derek was… well, a little intrigued by the kid, and it mostly didn’t have to do with the fact that he was dealing with the same family that fucked Derek’s life up all those years ago.
He opened the text first; it was never a good idea to ignore Laura, because there’d always be hell to pay when she got back.
If I find out you didn’t sleep again while I was gone, I’m gonna kick your ass, Der.
He sighed, and tapped out a reply. His super-senses would alert him if he was going to bump into anything, so, he should he safe.
It’s not like I need that much sleep, Laura. I’m fine.
Bull, baby brother, and you and I both know it.
> You know I know about the nightmares, so, why bother lying?
They’re none of your fucking business, so, I’m not talking about them.
His grip had tightened on his phone, and he was on the verge of breaking it (again.)
I just want to help make it okay.
His fingers hovered over the reply button, but he ended up just opening the chatroom up instead. No matter how many times he tried telling Laura what had happened with Kate, he just… couldn’t.
--- [Member] blinski182 entered the chat (23 seconds ago) ---
--- [Moderator] ponce_de_triskelion has entered the chat ---
ponce_de_triskelion: So, you’re back? Did you need something else.
blinski182: nah, just wanted to hang around. Scott’s off doing something with Allison, as usual now.
ponce_de_triskelion: Sucks.
blinski182: so much.it used to be just us, and now…
ponce_de_triskelion: She’s all he sees. It’s not unusual; it happens a lot. Anchor fixation.
blinski182: well, I guess I’ll have to adjust to being a one man show.
ponce_de_triskelion: … I’m sorry. It must be difficult.
blinski182: you’re a really awkward apologizer, even over the internet.
blinski182: thanks anyway, though.
Derek stared at the screen, and then sighed once more, and pocketed his phone again. At least he did something half-right