[ Derek won't take his eyes off of Tate. He's watching him in silence, absorbing every minute shift of his expression, shallow waves crashing against his legs and drenching his jeans all the way through. There's a part of him - a small, unrealistic part of him - that just wants Tate to say something magic and easy that'll fix everything, make it all better.
But he won't. He can't. Can't break his contract, can't turn back time. Derek learned, after the fire, that hoping for easy outs is just - cowardly. Tate looks at him like he doesn't believe him, and that breaks Derek's heart, but - again - he knows there's no easy way to convince him that this could work. That this will work.
He doesn't push it. ]
I don't get frustrated. I get scared.
[ But it's - fine. This is a dead horse. Derek shakes his head, stepping forward, treading water as he walks. Again, this is such a human fucking problem, and he doesn't know if he'll be able to help Tate the way he wants to, but if trying is all he has, then - trying is all he has. Derek reaches his hands out, tugging lightly on Tate's wrists. ]
no subject
But he won't. He can't. Can't break his contract, can't turn back time. Derek learned, after the fire, that hoping for easy outs is just - cowardly. Tate looks at him like he doesn't believe him, and that breaks Derek's heart, but - again - he knows there's no easy way to convince him that this could work. That this will work.
He doesn't push it. ]
I don't get frustrated. I get scared.
[ But it's - fine. This is a dead horse. Derek shakes his head, stepping forward, treading water as he walks. Again, this is such a human fucking problem, and he doesn't know if he'll be able to help Tate the way he wants to, but if trying is all he has, then - trying is all he has. Derek reaches his hands out, tugging lightly on Tate's wrists. ]
Give me your hands.