Chapter Text
The Camaro hummed along the highway, its engine a steady companion on Derek journey home. The "Welcome to Beacon Hills" sign came into view, it's cheerful lettering stark against the backdrop of colourful autumn forests and open skies. Derek slowed down, his heart racing. It had been years since he’d last been here—years spent in New York, pursuing a career and a dream that had long since ceased to feel like his own.
At first, New York had seemed like everything he’d ever wanted. The lights, the energy, the endless opportunities—it had felt like the place where he could reinvent himself, leave behind the small-town simplicity of Beacon Hills, and prove that he could make it on his own.
But the reality had been different. The hustle never stopped, and while the city buzzed with life, Derek often felt like he was standing still. His job at the NYPD was rewarding in theory but isolating in practice, the long hours leaving little time for anything else. The relationships he tried to build were fleeting at best, surface-level connections in a city that never slowed down enough for anything deeper.
It wasn’t that he hated New York. There were moments he loved—solving a challenging case, jogging through Central Park in the early mornings, watching the skyline light up at sunset—but those moments never added up to something whole. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a piece trying to fit into the wrong puzzle, the edges of his life constantly misaligned.
And then there was Jennifer. She’d been everything he thought he wanted—smart, ambitious, beautiful. They’d come close to building a life together, or so he believed. But the more time they spent together, the more he realized they were like two trains running on parallel tracks. She had her own plans, her own ambitions, and though they cared for each other, their lives never quite converged. The end, when it came, was as quiet as it was inevitable.
It wasn’t just Jennifer, though. Derek had started to see that the problem wasn’t his job or the city or even his failed relationships. It was him. He’d spent so much time trying to live a life he thought he should want that he hadn’t stopped to ask what he truly needed.
And so, here he was, back in Beacon Hills, hoping to find the answer in the place where his story began. Maybe, he thought as the car rumbled along, this was where he was meant to be all along.
He parked outside his aunt Gwen’s coffee shop, the familiar sight of its brick exterior and twinkling fairy lights tugging at his chest. If he walked into his family’s house right now, there’d be a storm of questions: Why did you leave New York? What happened to your girlfriend? He wasn’t ready to face them right now. Instead, he opted for coffee and a quiet moment to collect himself. And his aunt’s coffee shop was the perfect place for that.
The bell above the door jingled as he stepped in. Gwen looked up from behind the counter, her face lighting up.
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite nephew,” she teased, wiping her hands on her apron.
Derek chuckled. “I’m your only nephew, Gwen.”
“Technicalities.” She walked around the counter to hug him, her embrace was warm. The smell of freshly baked muffins filled the room. “It’s good to see you, Derek. Beacon Hills missed you. I missed you. To be frank, we all did.”
“I missed you too,” he admitted, taking in the cosy space. The coffee shop hadn’t changed a bit—still the same mismatched furniture and chalkboard menu that made it feel like home. Why the heck did he never visit them? It felt so good to be here.
Before Gwen could pepper him with questions, another voice chimed in. “My, my. Derek is back just one minute and my wife is getting all sentimental.”
Derek turned to see Peter, his uncle, leaning casually against the counter, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Peter had always been good at reading people—too good, in Derek’s opinion—and the raised eyebrow he shot Derek now was proof he’d already picked up on the undercurrent feelings of regret Derek was trying to hide. Even after all these years, Peter had a way of making him feel like a teenager caught sneaking out past curfew.
“She is just happy to have me back,” Derek said, smiling sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
Peter tilted his head, his smirk widening. “We all are. Took you long enough to find your way back home, nephew. Did you have to pluck up your courage with coffee before venturing into the lion's den? Believe me, your mum is already very excited and she has a long list of questions. And she's probably already scouted out all the ladies in the neighbourhood who want to get married.”
Derek groaned, that was exactly what he had feared. “I figured as much. Let me guess—she’s been redecorating the house and planning Sunday dinner since I called her?”
Peter straightened, his grin turning into an exaggerated nod. “Oh, you have no idea. She’s roped in everyone—Laura, Cora, the twins, even your cousins. And God help you if you let her wait too long. That woman’s been dreaming of a full Hale house again for years. If you don’t show up today so she can have her little party, we’ll be eating leftovers until Valentine’s Day.”
Derek laughed. “I wouldn’t dare miss it. But first I need my coffee with sugar and a lot of cream and a little extra chocolate. Man, how I missed this coffee shop.”
“Stupid boy. If you missed it why not visit more?” Gwen scolded.
Derek only shrugged. He really had no idea. Why had he been so keen to get away from here? Of course, his break-up with Kate at that time was certainly one reason. But was it really the deciding factor? From what he'd heard, she was happily married and living in Texas. Not that this would be of interest to him. Kate hadn't been good for him. It had taken him a long time to realise that, though.
The funny thing was that he had left Beacon Hills because of a cheating girlfriend and had also come back because of another cheating girlfriend. If that wasn't reason enough to stay away from women for the time being.
Gwen put the cup in front of him. God, the smell alone! She was a sorceress when it came to everything related to food or drinks. His uncle was a lucky man.
“Do you think you could distract mom a little so I can sneak in through the back door, buy me a little time so that I can settle in peace?” Derek asked his uncle. Derek would give a lot to be able to sneak into his room and sleep for a few hours.
Peter burst out laughing, the sound loud and unapologetic. “Me? Oh, no. Not a chance. I’ve already used up my favours keeping her from calling you every day since you announced you were coming back. You’re on your own.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side, Peter.” Derek tried to look serious but failed, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I am on your side,” Peter said, his tone dripping with mock offense. “That’s why I’m giving you fair warning. Talia Hale with her children under one roof again? That’s a force of nature. You’ve been gone too long, Derek. No more running away this time.”
Derek sighed, the playful banter fading into a quiet smile. “I’m not running, Peter. Not anymore.”
***
Derek finally made his way to the Hale family home about an hour later, the sprawling house looking just as he remembered. The Hale family home stood proudly at the edge of the woods. Built with rich, dark wood and accented with stone details, it seemed to blend naturally into its forested surroundings. It was the kind of house that felt like it had always been there.
Pumpkins were artfully arranged on the wide porch steps, their orange hues glowing warmly in the late afternoon sun. Hundreds of happy childhood memories rushed through Derek’s head. He remembered times when he had carved these pumpkins together with his sisters and his father, he remembered pumpkin pie and hot chocolate with cinnamon and whipped cream.
The property itself was expansive, a necessity for a family of five children. The backyard, hidden from view, was Derek's favourite spot growing up—a wide-open space that melted into the woods, perfect for running, exploring, and escaping the chaos of a big family.
It was exactly how Derek remembered it.
Before he could step inside, the door burst open, and his sister Laura came bounding out.
“There you are! Mom’s been checking her watch every ten minutes.” Laura enveloped him in a bear hug before stepping back to inspect him. “Still handsome, still grumpy-looking. You’ll fit right back in.”
The living room was filled with the warm chaos he’d missed—his parents and sisters laughing, rushing busily around, and the smell of home-cooked food wafting through the air. His mother, Talia, was in her element, orchestrating dinner like a general commanding an army.
“You’re just in time to set the table, honey,” she said, handing him a stack of plates after she kissed him welcomingly on the cheek.
Derek grinned. “It’s good to be back, Mom.”
As the family gathered around the dinner table, Derek felt a sense of peace settle over him. Beacon Hills wasn’t just a place; it was a feeling. It was home.
And for the first time in a long time, Derek let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he was exactly where he was meant to be.