He hadn't really expected her to agree to talk, but the nod of acknowledgement is enough for Derek. It lets him know that she heard and understands that the option is there if she ever wants or needs it. That's as far as Derek is willing to push, because he knows how hard it is to open up. ...he still hasn't. It's been over a decade and he still hasn't told anyone who hasn't already been a witness to the string of bodies he leaves in his wake when he cares about people. Isaac, ironically, got off easy and the irony in that is that Derek had to damage their bond by breaking the kid down emotionally; treating him the same way his abusive father had treated him before the kanima killed him Derek had taken Isaac in. To date, Katniss is the only person who knows that the fire was Derek's fault, but even then, all she knows is that he trusted the wrong person. She doesn't know to what degree and he's not sure he'll ever share it.

So he's not going to be a hypocrite and force the information out of her. He only wants it if she wants to share it, anyway. "Okay, as long as you know that, that's all I want."

He should get her back to work, he knows that, but Derek can't bring himself to separate from her when he has a feeling that she's been aching for this kind of comfort from someone — anyone — for a while and she either hasn't had access or she's been refusing to let herself indulge. She's clinging, which is pretty contradictory to the girl who physically pushed him away not half an hour ago. That, in and of itself, is an indicator that his assumptions are probably not too far off.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asks softly, the monotonous movement of his hand over her hair continuing in an attempt to soothe her and help her calm down and relax.