[Tate just makes a noise, disgruntled but lightly acquiescing to the idea. Hard to tell from his sulking body language, but he will drift along if guided toward the shower. He's still clammy and cold and it hasn't sunk in to him how much so, until he looks at his hand and sees it shake. But that could just be the vibrating emotion in him, so Tate flexes his fingers and rubs at his face again. Shower. Hot shower. He can do that, at least.
He looks at Derek, still sort of lost:]
If she's still here, you can find her, right? You'd find her?
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He looks at Derek, still sort of lost:]
If she's still here, you can find her, right? You'd find her?