Malia's words sort of knock the breath out of Derek's lungs. They're so raw and sincere that Derek actually feels guilty, like he's taken something from her. In a way he has, he supposes. He's caused even more pain simply by trying to be happy.

It feels like he holds his breath the entire time that Stiles speaks. The words reassure him, as does the press of his back against Stiles' hand, but Derek is still Derek, and his thoughts tend to be ruled by Murphy's law.

Malia is a gorgeous girl Stiles' own age, one who is obviously devoted to him. And Derek, well, he's never felt good enough for Stiles. He spends a long time staring ahead with his brows furrowed, but the silence snaps him out of his thoughts.

Stiles is offering their help, because of course he is. Derek's hand slides around Stiles' hip to pull him a bit closer, thumb slipping under the back of his shirt to press into skin, and he nods. He doesn't know Malia, and he has no idea if his position as alpha means a damn to her, but it's sort of all he has to offer.

"We'll help you," Derek confirms, eyes flashing red briefly. "You have a place here."