youfeelluckypunk | [turkey day, nov 21]

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[turkey day, nov 21]

They've graciously been invited to Derek's Thanksgiving celebration on the actual day itself, but Reid had gotten to thinking after Luke had told him of the invitation that it would be nice to throw a small get-together of their own. Halloween at the bookstore had been a success, after all, and in spite of the fact that they'd been sent to a hellish version of Darrow for the next ten days, Reid had really enjoyed planning and decorating for the holiday with his boyfriend. In a way, it also serves as a bit of a housewarming, even if nobody else needs to know that. They've been officially living together for a week now, though the only real difference is that he's handed over his keys to the Dimera apartment back to the landlord.

Still, being able to call this apartment home, knowing that he gets to spend every night with the man he loves, it means something special to him, and he wants to share that sense of home with the rest of the people he cares about.

So he sends out texts to Alec and Magnus, Peter and Jason and Hild, telling them all to save the date for the twenty-first so they can have an early Thanksgiving celebration. Others are welcome, of course, and Reid suspects they'll have more than enough food because he'd made arrangements for one restaurant in particular (one that he visits often and had already been promoting take-out for Thanksgiving Day) to set him up with a turkey dinner early. There are all the expected fixings, though he'd ordered four turkeys because Luke still needs to eat more to make up for all the weight he'd lost in the alternate version of Darrow, plus a couple pumpkin pies and various other desserts strewn out across the table. The wine Peter had given to him on Halloween is out, available for consumption to those who want it, but Reid will be sticking to water tonight.

If anyone asks, he's been slaving away in the kitchen all day long, brewing coffee after coffee as he and Luke make sure everything looks nice and neat for their first Thanksgiving dinner together. The food is set out over the counter in the kitchen, china and utensils and glassware placed at the very end so people can take what they want and find a place to eat in the living room, where they've placed extra chairs, and it isn't until they hear the first knock at the door that Reid finally decides he's satisfied with the way everything looks.

Every single person who will be here tonight has been through so much, seen more than one person ever should, but tonight, Reid is just grateful that they're all still here.

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He softens a bit at Alec's mention of his sister, if only because the part of him that wishes Isabelle could be here is also the part that wishes his mom could be here, too. It's been difficult since coming back from that twisted version of Darrow, he's found himself waking up in the middle of the night with his mom's words echoing in his mind--

(Is this real? Am I real?)

--but being able to look over and see Luke there, to touch him and know that his boyfriend helps to make every bit of fear and pain that's carried over from the other Darrow worth it, has helped tremendously. He would have been alone otherwise, alone in an apartment that had never felt like this own; but he's here now. He and Luke share this place together, this is their home, and there's something awfully comforting about knowing that he'll always have somewhere to go and someone to go home to at the end of the day.

"Well, she'd have been more than welcome to try her hand at it," Reid says, which may or may not be true but in any case, neither he nor Luke had figured they should even bother trying themselves; otherwise, it would have been as Alec said, and this Thanksgiving dinner would be taking place at one of the few restaurants that have been kept open today.

"There's wine, too," he continues, gesturing at where it's set up closer to the living room. Peter had brought him the wine as a gift on Halloween, but Reid had figured it would finds its greatest use here with people more likely to drink it, since he never would have himself. Luke has taken it upon himself to abstain from drinking, as well, at least in Reid's presence, which really isn't necessary but is yet another thing to add to why he loves his boyfriend so very much.

Slipping his hands in his pockets, Reid bites down on his lip, tilting his head just slightly. "So, you've been alright? I mean... I know it's not the first time we've seen each other since, you know, but you're doing okay? You know you're always welcome to stay here, right? It's not an offer that comes with an expiration date."

Picturing Isabelle here, in Luke's kitchen, was both strange and comforting. He'd only see her cooking in the Institute's kitchen, never anywhere else. He doubted she made dinner or breakfast for any of her dates and he didn't think she'd ever been at Luke's place in Manhattan long enough for any cooking to happen.

Having her here, having her here and cooking, would have been an immense comfort to Alec but it would have just seemed out of place. She was born for the big cities and the people within. She was born to be the center of attention, people revolving around her like she was the sun and while she could have had that here, Alec wasn't sure if she'd want. No matter how much he wanted her to be here, he didn't want her unhappy.

"I'm all right," Alec said, shaking thoughts of Isabelle away for the moment. He focused back on Luke and their surroundings. "I'm fine. I've just been trying to move on past what happened. To forget it."

That plan of action had...well, it worked and then it didn't work. Sometimes, he was definitely fine. He was slick and smooth, graceful and quiet, and he could work without seeing the faces of his family etched in hatred. Other times, that was all that he could think about. He'd tried to immerse himself in hunting, in learning but there were only so many distractions he could find before he did something stupid.

Good thing that had already happened. Alec still felt guilt over that whole encounter.

"I'm good," he said again, nodding. It was both a lie and the truth. Some days were better than others. Some days, he was the Alec he'd been before that other Darrow. Other days, he hated himself more and more each minute. "What about you?"

As always, Alec excels at deflecting, but it's nothing Reid isn't used to, not an obstacle will ever stop trying to overcome. If asked, he's not sure he would be able to explain exactly why he'd try so hard for someone he's only known for a matter of months, especially because it'd often taken him far longer than that to trust anyone outside of the BAU; but it's not just because Alec is important to Luke anymore, even though it very well may have started out that way. No, Alec is important to Reid, too, and so is his happiness.

Magnus' presence in Darrow seems to have improved things a little, mostly in small ways that might not be noticeable to those who aren't looking for it, like the way Alec's eyes crinkle just slightly when Magnus says something ridiculous or the slight upward curve of Alec's lips when Magnus pays him yet another compliment. The reason Reid sees it is because he does the very same thing when Luke murmurs something sweet in his ear or presses an unexpected kiss to his forehead, mostly private moments that they don't let others witness, but he knows what he must look like all the same.

For Alec, though, it isn't that easy. While every passing day might do something to ease the Clave's iron grip on Alec's view of the world, getting past being taught that he loves the wrong person wouldn't be a simple task. All Reid can really hope is that Magnus will continue to be patient; and if not, words will be had. Possibly even fists, if Reid is feeling particularly willing to spend an evening being stitched up by his boyfriend.

Beyond that, what Alec had seen in the other version of Darrow had been just a small portion of the Reid's vulnerabilities and while they haven't discussed his addiction since returning home, it's a bit strange to know that there's one more person in this room who knows the reason he doesn't have a glass of wine in his hand tonight isn't because he doesn't feel like drinking. There's so much of that other world that's put weight on Reid's shoulders, the kind he's spent so many years trying to shrug off, but the guilt is back. The anger, the resentment, the fear. It'd all come rushing back to him over the course of ten long days, and he knows it'll take time for the wounds to heal again but in the end, he's not sure they'll ever really close.

"Same as you," he says, searching Alec's eyes because they both know what the other means when they say they're alright. They're fine. They're good. They're not, but they will be. There's help for them. "The stuffing's good, by the way. And I may or may not already have gotten into the pie."

There was a silent conversation happening right now, something that neither of them were talking about. Alec knew it wasn't as easy as forgetting about what happened and he knew that when he said he was fine, Reid knew better. Reid knew better because he wasn't fine either. The experiences were different, the nightmares varied in the pain and terror they brought but they shared the sentiment of being scraped raw and working to pieces themselves back together.

Admitting out loud that he wasn't fine was something Alec feared doing. Saying the words, hearing them, would just make the whole experience more real. He'd been focusing on the fact that what he'd seen had been the work of some a demon and his own issues when it came to his family. He wanted to believe he'd been manipulated, that his thoughts of his family had been twisted and warped to an unrealistic degree. He didn't want to face the possibility that maybe he'd wondered if his family thought that of him. Maybe they did secretly wish that he was better, that he was different.

"Mundane holidays all seem to revolve around food," Alec said idly, shaking his head. Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Independence Day, and a myriad of other holidays all seemed to be celebrated with some sort of feast. "Something special about the pie? I thought that was more a dessert thing."

"Nothing special in particular," Reid answers, "I just tend to gravitate toward sweet things. It's why I take so much sugar in my coffee. Also why it's probably a good thing that I'm horrible at baking, my pasty intake would be out of control."

For the most part, he does well enough in limiting himself, especially because of his coffee preferences, but he can't deny that he'd eagerly wolfed down the cupcakes Luke had bought for his birthday the month before. Granted, the icing on those cupcakes had been sacrificed that night for a cause he most certainly will not be sharing with Alec, but the point still stands.

"I'm not really sure where my taste for sweets developed because I didn't care much for them as a kid, but I figure it might have something to do with the fact that I like having that surge of dopamine in my brain to counter what I see on the job. Sugar's kind of like heroin in that way."

Which is exceptionally irrelevant, and Reid is thankful that Alec hasn't already walked away.

"So anyway. I'm less concerned about the pie, I swear, I'm just glad everyone showed up. I usually spend my holidays alone so this-- Well, everything is different here."

Alec was ambivalent on sweets for the most part. He liked them when he had them but he didn't go out of his way to seek them out. He didn't crave things like donuts and cake but he wouldn't say no to them if they were around and offered. Today, he'd have some pie and enjoy it. Tomorrow, he'd struggle to remember that pie was even a thing.

"We just didn't celebrate at all," Alec said, shaking his head. Christmas was the lone mundane holiday that they'd celebrated even though they'd been aware of the other holidays. There had been no feast in the Lightwood household, no parties where you talked about your day and your job and your feelings, nothing that seemed to accompany Thanksgiving. Alec didn't really mind missing out, though. He'd lived that way for so long that celebrating Thanksgiving was the strange thing for him.

"You have this much food when it was just you?" asked Alec, looking over. "Or did you go smaller?"

"We didn't celebrate much when I was kid," Reid admits, shrugging a shoulder as he reaches for the serving knife. It may be just a little too early for pie but talking about it has him craving it, so he cuts himself a slice, then another to take to Luke once they're ready to leave the kitchen. "I mean, when I was really young, we'd do family dinners, but my dad left when I was six, and my mom was already sick so..."

He trails off, taking a bite of pie instead, then glances up at Alec, the corners of his lips twitching at the question.

"Not quite this much food, no, I definitely didn't have anyone to share it with. All my teammates, they'd try to get me to come over, but it always felt a little like an intrusion." Reid wouldn't consider himself a terrible party-goer, but he usually finds himself entertaining the children present with magic tricks than having any actual conversations with other adults. Maybe it does speak to a certain level of discomfort but at least here, he's with people he cares about--and hopefully, they care about him, too.

"We didn't even really do family dinners." It was a rare thing where all Lightwoods were even in the same place at the same time. If his father wasn't in Idris, his mother was busy with Institute affairs. If they were both home, Alec or Isabelle tended to be gone, hunting demons or hanging out at Taki's.

When they all did happen to be in the same place at the same time, family dinners were the last thing on their mind. They'd preferred the solitude of their own rooms or the exertion of the training room.

"I can't picture my family being a part of something like this," he said with a shake of his head. His mother and father would spend their time judging every single mundane and Downworlder around while Isabelle made a point to talk to and flirt with every beautiful person in the room. Alec would be the one standing against the wall, quietly. "It'd be awkward."

Reid nods his understanding because in some way, he can relate, even if the reason his family hadn't done dinners like this hadn't been because of their duty to protect people from things like demons. "We were just the good old-fashioned kind of dysfunctional," he says with a wry smile, "which I guess is an exaggeration, but we definitely weren't the nuclear family my dad would've preferred us to be. That's part of why he left."

The other part had been that he hadn't been able to stand keeping secrets for his mentally ill woman who'd unwittingly witnessed a murder while having a minor episode, which Reid supposes is fair enough for some but that doesn't make him any less angry about it all these years later.

Reid arches a brow at the last thing Alec says, studying him with a hint of curiosity. "This isn't awkward, then, being here with us? Six months ago, I wouldn't have pictured myself anywhere near something like this so it's strange for me in a lot of ways but..." He shrugs a shoulder. "But I'm comfortable. It's nice."

"It's not awkward," Alec assured him with a shake of his head. He knew he was awkward and, at times, standoffish but the whole of the party wasn't awkward. He didn't feel forced to talk with everyone and if he wanted to stand off to the side, no one was going to nag him about him. "If we were all here, my mother and father and sister, then it'd be awkward. Isabelle would be fine but my mom and dad are intimidating and...set in their views."

It was the kindest way to say that his mother and father wouldn't have been happy to be around mundanes and Downworlders. They would have made that distrust and even disdain known in both body language and words. They weren't shy people.

"They're worse than me where that's concerned," he confessed quietly, shaking his head. Alec wasn't going to apologize for the way he viewed the world but he would warn people against it, at least. He'd been raised to see people specifically, to judge them against what they were and it was very hard to break free of that rigid, regimented way of thinking.

He's glad that Alec feels comfortable enough here tonight, it puts Reid a bit more at ease to know that this young man he's unexpectedly come to care so much about isn't wishing he was somewhere else. It would have been simple enough for both of them to write each other off, but Reid had pushed through, at first because he'd felt it necessary considering sharing a life with Luke means having Alec in it. Of course, that's changed, at least for Reid.

Now, he's come to expect Alec to come walking into the bookstore at random times, usually unannounced and for no particular reason. Reid thinks he prefers that, really, knowing that Alec might just show up because he wants to, not because he's obligated to; and it's a little strange, but there's something paternal in how he views Alec. It's not in the sense that Alec needs to be looked after (because Reid knows what he'd have to say about that), more that Reid simply feels an unrelenting need to make sure he's okay. Even if he isn't, just to have him present here after everything that'd happened in that other Darrow, it's important.

They can figure out the rest, whether they share it with each other or not. What matters is they're still standing.

"Old habits die hard," Reid says, understanding what Alec's getting at when he talks about his parents, and he isn't surprised to hear it. "When you're told something your entire life, when you have it driven into your mind that there's no other way of life that's correct, it can be more than a little difficult to shake once you're away from it. Maybe they're worse than you, but..." He pauses, narrowing his eyes, though he offers Alec a teasing smile. "You were pretty bad. But you don't look at me like I might betray all your world's secrets anymore, so I'd say you've made a lot of progress."

It isn't a surprise to hear how Reid viewed him upon their first meeting. He knew he could have excused his behavior with how he'd arrived, with what he'd seen and done just before arriving but he isn't all that sorry. He'd grown up a certain way and had been raised to view the rules and restrictions the Clave had set out as unbreakable and unquestionable.

"If you did, we'd have some issues," Alec said and though he was serious, his tone was light. He didn't think Reid would go around telling people who he was or about the Soul Sword or anything else. He wasn't Valentine, he wasn't Hodge. "But, it's not something I think you're going to do."

Alec would have said he could recognized a turncoat when he saw one but he hadn't recognized Hodge. They'd let Hodge into their lives, let him live in the Institute and had learned from him, cared for him. So, he knew he didn't have that ability but Reid wasn't Hodge. Reid wasn't out for himself and Reid had genuinely tried to engage Alec over the course of the last few months. He'd looked further than just the fact that he was a Shadowhunter and had tried to encourage other interests.

Reid wasn't Hodge. He was better.

"Good," Reid answers, nodding firmly. "It isn't. Even if I didn't care about you, which I do, just to be absolutely clear, I would never do that to Luke. If you aren't sure of anything else when it comes to me, you can be sure of that."

Glancing across the room to where his boyfriend is chatting with Magnus, his expression softens. What they'd been through together in the other Darrow isn't something Reid would ever like to repeat again but if there is a silver lining through it all, it's that being there had pushed them to say they love each other. In the back room of a church, surrounded by manifestations of their fears, admittedly hadn't been how he'd pictured exchanging the words for the first time but the setting isn't what's most important. It's that they'd said it, they'd meant it, and not just because their lives had been in danger.

"I'm not sure I've ever been thankful for as much as I am this year," he admits, looking back at Alec with a slightly sheepish smile. "That sounds a little pathetic. It's just that a lot of good things have happened and even aside from what happened in that other Darrow, a small part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Alec was of the mind that he didn't vocalize when things were good because that meant they were inevitably going to get worse sooner rather than later. He didn't like to tempt fate even if fate was something he wasn't sure he believed in.

Happiness was one of those things that he also didn't have a lot of experience with. He could be happy with his family and he could be happy when he was hunting but it tended to be fleeting and brief. Then, he'd come back to reality and realize that he wasn't happy and he wasn't going to be happy because of who he was. He'd accepted that and was resigned to it.

"You probably won't have to wait too long in this place," Alec noted because he was always a ray of sunshine. He could appreciate that Reid was happy and content but he didn't think that would last. Something was always out there, whether mundane, Downworlder or demon that would try to ruin that careful balance. "Just be prepared for that to happen."

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[turkey day, nov 21]

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