[ part of why it's so awkward when derek steps inside is because he absolutely heard the lab equipment rattle. derek doesn't say anything, but he certainly draws attention to the fact that he knows. he looks at stiles with his eyebrows raised, that expression he's been using more and more lately where he's emotively calling him an idiot while being too considerate of his feelings to actually say the word out loud. they love each other very much, and derek makes no secret of that fact, but he's still kind of learning not to be as much of a grump as he'd like to be.
still, stiles guides him further in, points him towards the library. derek walks kind of slowly, with lumbering legs and long steps, like he's walking in a museum and the only people around are working security. he sets most of the boxes down for stiles on the table he's directed to, and then it feels... awkward, again, because derek wants to ask stiles how he's doing, but he's not sure if covering that before they get out of here is the best use of their time.
he's not sure if stiles wants to pack up rosalind's lab alone, either - maybe it'd be too difficult for him to be here by himself, or maybe he feels more comfortable doing this by himself after how often he worked with everything here - but he ultimately takes the cue to leave as a hint and treats it as such. ]
I'll just be back there then, okay? Door's open, so. Just... call me.
[ and with that, derek heads down with the one or two boxes he kept for himself from the pile, ducking his head into rosalind's library. it's... a lot, and he's not entirely sure how to stop feeling like he's robbing someone's grave, but he dutifully gets to work. he doesn't grab everything, at first, because it feels... sad, leaving these shelves bare, but once he's taken some of her collection it feels kind of worse leaving it half-cleaned out. like an unfinished job, or a bandaid only ripped halfway off.
so he packs up the rest of rosalind's books in silence, and by the time ten, maybe twenty minutes have passed, he ducks his head out back into the lab. he's still not... sure how to act. neutral, maybe. sympathetic. in control. he tries to be a bit of everything. ]
no subject
still, stiles guides him further in, points him towards the library. derek walks kind of slowly, with lumbering legs and long steps, like he's walking in a museum and the only people around are working security. he sets most of the boxes down for stiles on the table he's directed to, and then it feels... awkward, again, because derek wants to ask stiles how he's doing, but he's not sure if covering that before they get out of here is the best use of their time.
he's not sure if stiles wants to pack up rosalind's lab alone, either - maybe it'd be too difficult for him to be here by himself, or maybe he feels more comfortable doing this by himself after how often he worked with everything here - but he ultimately takes the cue to leave as a hint and treats it as such. ]
I'll just be back there then, okay? Door's open, so. Just... call me.
[ and with that, derek heads down with the one or two boxes he kept for himself from the pile, ducking his head into rosalind's library. it's... a lot, and he's not entirely sure how to stop feeling like he's robbing someone's grave, but he dutifully gets to work. he doesn't grab everything, at first, because it feels... sad, leaving these shelves bare, but once he's taken some of her collection it feels kind of worse leaving it half-cleaned out. like an unfinished job, or a bandaid only ripped halfway off.
so he packs up the rest of rosalind's books in silence, and by the time ten, maybe twenty minutes have passed, he ducks his head out back into the lab. he's still not... sure how to act. neutral, maybe. sympathetic. in control. he tries to be a bit of everything. ]
How's it going?