[ Tate takes a hold of him and it makes Derek-- panic, just a little, when he lets go. His heart's beating too hard in his chest and making it hard to think clearly - this treehouse was a terrible idea, they need to take it down, they never should have made it, something was going to go wrong, something was always going to go wrong. Derek's hands are trembling a little, just - overwhelmed.
This is Tate. His Tate, all small and broken and fragile because Derek fucked up somehow. This shouldn't have happened. He should have been here. Derek doesn't know where to look, doesn't even know which arm to focus on, scattered as he is. He just keeps smelling blood and iron and feeling sick. ]
Alright. I can do that. Just-- hold onto me. I'm going to make you feel better, okay? Look at me.
[ First thing's first - sedation. Derek takes Tate's hand again, nodding through it, realizing that's his good arm. He laces their fingers together and holds on tight, setting his other hand on Tate's neck and maintaining eye contact. Slowly, Derek takes Tate's pain, bleeding it through his veins in sharp, black heartbeats. It hurts, but it's-- fine, he can deal with it. Derek doesn't let Tate go, smoothing his thumb down over his throat, like he's calming an injured animal. He repeats himself: ]
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This is Tate. His Tate, all small and broken and fragile because Derek fucked up somehow. This shouldn't have happened. He should have been here. Derek doesn't know where to look, doesn't even know which arm to focus on, scattered as he is. He just keeps smelling blood and iron and feeling sick. ]
Alright. I can do that. Just-- hold onto me. I'm going to make you feel better, okay? Look at me.
[ First thing's first - sedation. Derek takes Tate's hand again, nodding through it, realizing that's his good arm. He laces their fingers together and holds on tight, setting his other hand on Tate's neck and maintaining eye contact. Slowly, Derek takes Tate's pain, bleeding it through his veins in sharp, black heartbeats. It hurts, but it's-- fine, he can deal with it. Derek doesn't let Tate go, smoothing his thumb down over his throat, like he's calming an injured animal. He repeats himself: ]
Look at me.