[ that was what he was planning to do. he's already at the door when tate messages him back, toeing on his sneakers and searching for his keys. a few seconds later and derek's out the door, house locked up behind him, walking straight through the woods towards the treehouse - it takes two minutes, maybe three for derek to get there, but he already has a sense of who this is before he reaches the front step up. no heartbeat, no signs of any breaking and entering... if there's nobody here but tate, he knows where his lead lies, and if there's nobody here at all, then someone's clearly fucking with him.
derek doesn't knock. he never does. he heads on it - same as always. ]
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derek doesn't knock. he never does. he heads on it - same as always. ]
Tate.