[ Derek's so, so scared of doing the wrong thing. Of saying the wrong thing. Tate might feel like he's draining energy from Derek, finding strength in his comfort and his care, but it's - the opposite. He leans into him and Derek's breathing slows to match Tate's, he squeezes Derek back and Derek feels like he's worthwhile. Feels like he's doing something right. He softly toys with Tate's hair, he soothes his neck with light, sporadic strokes. He gives himself the chance to feel safe. ]

People come back all the time. You don't have to think about the future right now.

[ It-- was Derek, who told Tate to focus on moving on, but right now that just feels like fucking horrible advice. Derek's hand slips down Tate's hair, drifting a little more towards his shoulder, his fingernails curling and lightly, sensitively scratching the back of his neck. ]

Right now - she's gone. That feeling is hard to be okay with. You need to just... get through the next couple of days.

[ With him. Here. Together. ]