Derek absolutely would toss him through a proverbial shredder. It's that violent, over protective big brother instinct that's actually twice what it should be for werewolves, even though he knows Cora doesn't need it. She became her own protector a long time ago, and things like this, these melodramatic displays of brotherly affection are Derek's ways of making up for lost time, for the times he should have protected her, and for all the ways he failed her.

It's never going to make up for it. But if nothing else it gets them to a place where some part of them feels normal.

He glances over at the boxes of pizza and considers for all of half a second before nodding. He does need to eat, and while he doesn't doubt they could eat all of that on their own, he could at least help.

And he does love pizza.

"Sure," he nods, before moving to follow him to the table. "Thanks."