1
Some part of Derek always kind of missed New York. In Beacon Hills, he was Derek Hale, whose family was killed in a fire; Derek Hale, accused and arrested for the murder of his older sister. But in New York, he was invisible. Derek was just another face in the crowd. Anonymity had been nice when he and Laura had fled across the country so many years ago and after the Dead Pool and everything with Kate, Derek could use some anonymity in his life again.
Brooklyn was all right, but he had money now. There was no bankers telling them that they weren't old enough to break into the trust; Laura was gone and her shares went to him just as well as his own had. So, this time, he went to the Upper West Side. The apartment had been a nice one and he'd just finished moving in the day before. Having not had much of a chance to learn the layout of the City just yet, rather than trying to find a place to go for groceries, Derek had headed out for dinner and was on his way back up when he saw a woman hurrying to catch the elevator before the doors closed.
Derek stuck an arm out to interrupt the process and the doors bounced open again in time for her. "I thought it was going to take my arm off for a second, there," he teased, letting the doors close once she was inside. "Which floor?" he asked as he pressed the button for the sixth floor for himself.