[It makes sense. It works, better than it might do if Derek didn't trust her, if he only concerned himself with keeping the problem contained, dealing with it themselves. But that was a level they'd reached a long time ago. Taylor just needed to be ready if things got worse.
She still smiles slightly, a crook in the corner of her mouth, teasing light considering the subject they'd been discussing.]
[ while she might be joking, derek takes it seriously. tyke's in a difficult position, and derek's the one putting her there. he's not isaac's alpha anymore, but isaac's still pack, and isaac's gotten swallowed up by the ship. derek shakes his head, arms crossing. ]
I didn't want this to be something you had to deal with.
[ that's always been the arrangement. derek takes care of his pack, takes care of the werewolves on board if need be. if he can keep them from being a problem then it never had to come to a conversation like this. and he's failed at it. ]
But if this gets out of control, I don't want it to blindside you.
[She'd meant it to be a tease, and maybe she's trying too hard in that vein, trying to reclaim that level of communication between them when they'd find their way back to it in their own time. But the way he's ignored it is something else, and she looks up at him for a long moment, brow pinching.
She knows what he's saying. But she also remembers how this started, the tiny bonds of trust they'd formed between them, linking stronger and stronger. She stands up from the bed again, stepping into his space, a hand lifting to his elbow as she meets his gaze, steady.]
You know I'm never gonna make you tell me what's going on with you or your pack.
[They'd always done that. Respected each other's lines, the circles of people and information they handled.]
But if you're dealing with shit, I'm always gonna be here to deal with it with you.
[She could handle whatever position it might put her in. And they could handle the rest together.]
[ they hadn't needed these kind of reassurances before their argument, before derek vanished into silence and separation for longer than he should have allowed. hearing tyke make this promise aloud is something they both need, in a way. ]
Does that mean I should start sleeping here again?
[ sober, rather than staggering drunk. it's a tease, breaking from the tension of the conversation. derek can't help but feel like he's already failed isaac, that everything he does even now is useless in the face of all the ways he's already let isaac down. ]
[There's a split-second where she worries that it's distraction. Derek deliberately evading what she's saying, avoiding the offer of help, support. She knows how hard he finds it to share burdens. She knows how important it's been to be there when he needs to.
But his expression's softer than that. No defensiveness in his eyes. She can't hear him anymore, but she knows him. That this is just them, tentative in feeling these things out, finding their way back to what they had.]
Yeah. [Plain, direct. True.] You should.
[A beat, and a touch more hesitation even as she pushes herself to say it:]
[ in some ways, derek had relied heavily on tyke being able to hear his thoughts, on having allowed her that and even projected them to her in some cases. puzzling out their interactions without that crutch is difficult, and that makes it all the more rewarding when they do get it right. ]
Okay.
[ just a response, without allowing himself hedge or backpedal. ]
[The smile she gives him is bright and wide for a moment. Fleeting, like all of her smiles are, but no less genuine for it. She feels like pressing in closer to him, kissing him, but she stays put, just her hand still resting on his arm.]
Let's get dinner first.
[The whole evening routine they'd do the nights he came over earlier, working out and eating and sleeping. She hadn't really realised how much she'd missed it, swept up in the general ache of just missing him.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action.
She still smiles slightly, a crook in the corner of her mouth, teasing light considering the subject they'd been discussing.]
So I'm your back-up plan now?
action.
I didn't want this to be something you had to deal with.
[ that's always been the arrangement. derek takes care of his pack, takes care of the werewolves on board if need be. if he can keep them from being a problem then it never had to come to a conversation like this. and he's failed at it. ]
But if this gets out of control, I don't want it to blindside you.
action.
She knows what he's saying. But she also remembers how this started, the tiny bonds of trust they'd formed between them, linking stronger and stronger. She stands up from the bed again, stepping into his space, a hand lifting to his elbow as she meets his gaze, steady.]
You know I'm never gonna make you tell me what's going on with you or your pack.
[They'd always done that. Respected each other's lines, the circles of people and information they handled.]
But if you're dealing with shit, I'm always gonna be here to deal with it with you.
[She could handle whatever position it might put her in. And they could handle the rest together.]
action.
Does that mean I should start sleeping here again?
[ sober, rather than staggering drunk. it's a tease, breaking from the tension of the conversation. derek can't help but feel like he's already failed isaac, that everything he does even now is useless in the face of all the ways he's already let isaac down. ]
action.
But his expression's softer than that. No defensiveness in his eyes. She can't hear him anymore, but she knows him. That this is just them, tentative in feeling these things out, finding their way back to what they had.]
Yeah. [Plain, direct. True.] You should.
[A beat, and a touch more hesitation even as she pushes herself to say it:]
I want you to.
action.
Okay.
[ just a response, without allowing himself hedge or backpedal. ]
I'll stay tonight.
Re: action.
Let's get dinner first.
[The whole evening routine they'd do the nights he came over earlier, working out and eating and sleeping. She hadn't really realised how much she'd missed it, swept up in the general ache of just missing him.]