[ Derek's been through enough now to know that nothing productive can come from blaming himself for things he can't help, but - having a logical awareness of something like that doesn't magically prevent him from feeling guilty over not being there when Tate needed him. If he could have been there, he would have been, and he knows Tate knows that better than anyone, but... like Tate, Derek knows that things could have been different. Should have been different. He's supposed to protect this kid.
Derek watches Tate's expression shift into something-- uncomfortable, maybe, under all the passive, dead distance. There's something innately disturbing about seeing him like this, and Derek wishes he knew how to fix it. He sets down his food, too, shifting in his seat to look more directly at Tate, draping his arm across the back of the sofa behind them. ]
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Derek watches Tate's expression shift into something-- uncomfortable, maybe, under all the passive, dead distance. There's something innately disturbing about seeing him like this, and Derek wishes he knew how to fix it. He sets down his food, too, shifting in his seat to look more directly at Tate, draping his arm across the back of the sofa behind them. ]
What did you see?