[ Tate might not be able to hear him through the sharp, sick pops of pain blooming in his head, but Derek's whispering things beneath his breath as he helps him through the pain. Quiet, sweet little bursts of encouragement, telling him it's over, telling him he did so, so good, telling him he's brave. Derek is pained and sweating and terrified, but all that matters to him is seeing Tate through this.
He siphons most of his pain away, once he's sure his shoulder is set. Derek keeps one hand clasped over Tate's biceps and the other goes straight to the hand Tate set against his chest. He anchors him in, keeps him close, and takes away the raw, pinching agony through black, inky ichor bleeding through his veins. Even now, Derek pretends it doesn't hurt. ]
Do you...
[ Fuck, talking is hard. Derek touches Tate's knuckles for support and gets himself through this. He has to work hard to keep his breathing and his voice steady and level, but it's better to act tough than to let Tate deal with this pain on his own. He swallow like he's dehydrated and starts again. ]
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He siphons most of his pain away, once he's sure his shoulder is set. Derek keeps one hand clasped over Tate's biceps and the other goes straight to the hand Tate set against his chest. He anchors him in, keeps him close, and takes away the raw, pinching agony through black, inky ichor bleeding through his veins. Even now, Derek pretends it doesn't hurt. ]
Do you...
[ Fuck, talking is hard. Derek touches Tate's knuckles for support and gets himself through this. He has to work hard to keep his breathing and his voice steady and level, but it's better to act tough than to let Tate deal with this pain on his own. He swallow like he's dehydrated and starts again. ]
Do you remember what happened? You just... fell?