[Tate slinks toward the couch like Derek's shadow, curling up with his heels on the sofa cushion and his body tilted toward Derek on a slant. It's one of those moods of Tate's where he won't outwardly say it but there's a clear want to be touched or held, and he just drops his head to look down at his pitiful plate of food which he pokes at with his fork. He licks a few grains of rice off the prongs of the fork.]

Okay.

[The boat - a place of merciless blood and suffering, and a few experiences he probably should forget about. Being shackled to the brig's walls was one of those things he will just neglect to mention and in time seemingly forget ever happened - if you ignore it long enough it's like it never took place? He spears chicken on his fork.]

I found Noah there, after... I don't know how long I was there. We wanted to get off but didn't really know how until we saw people jump.