Derek tenses, because she's feeling everything that he's feeling. Stiles is
gone and Beacon Hills is in crisis. He's going somewhere that Derek can't
keep him safe and it kills him; it kills him to not be able to touch or see
or smell or hear him and there's just this big empty void and --
He takes a breath. Sookie's grief is a potent scent and it's mixing with
Derek's own, reverberating like one big feedback loop of misery and pain.
It's a fucking epidemic. People have always disappeared but it seems to be
happening in droves lately, going and going until there's no one left in
this fucking prison that doesn't have someone to mourn.
"It's okay," Derek says quietly, finally folding his arms around her. He
turns and falls onto his ass on the grimy asphalt, leaning against the wall
and pulling Sookie into his lap. She's bawling like Derek has never allowed
himself to do, but his eyes well up and there's this big lump in his throat
and he doesn't know what to do.
"Stiles is gone too," Derek tells her, because he doesn't even know if she
knows. He doesn't tell her to try and take away anything that she's
feeling. He just wants her to know that he understands. If there are words
for this situation, Derek doesn't know what they are, but he understands.
He rubs her back and sniffs, resting his chin on top of her head as he
closes his eyes tightly. "I wish I knew how to make it better but I don't.
I'm sorry."
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Derek tenses, because she's feeling everything that he's feeling. Stiles is gone and Beacon Hills is in crisis. He's going somewhere that Derek can't keep him safe and it kills him; it kills him to not be able to touch or see or smell or hear him and there's just this big empty void and --
He takes a breath. Sookie's grief is a potent scent and it's mixing with Derek's own, reverberating like one big feedback loop of misery and pain. It's a fucking epidemic. People have always disappeared but it seems to be happening in droves lately, going and going until there's no one left in this fucking prison that doesn't have someone to mourn.
"It's okay," Derek says quietly, finally folding his arms around her. He turns and falls onto his ass on the grimy asphalt, leaning against the wall and pulling Sookie into his lap. She's bawling like Derek has never allowed himself to do, but his eyes well up and there's this big lump in his throat and he doesn't know what to do.
"Stiles is gone too," Derek tells her, because he doesn't even know if she knows. He doesn't tell her to try and take away anything that she's feeling. He just wants her to know that he understands. If there are words for this situation, Derek doesn't know what they are, but he understands. He rubs her back and sniffs, resting his chin on top of her head as he closes his eyes tightly. "I wish I knew how to make it better but I don't. I'm sorry."