The reference isn't lost on Derek — in fact, hearing someone else say the word out loud in such a significant way actually has a clarifying effect. He blinks, his chin lifting slightly. "Yeah," he says slowly; uncertainly before looking directly at the other man. "Yeah, you're right."
The two of them move toward the exit to leave the room and Derek shakes his head at the question. He waits, though, until they're out of earshot of the playing area. "I don't care where we go. You're real. ...So what else is real in here?" he asks more than says, tapping a finger against the side of his head. "I can't sort anything out, anymore. I was in orientation for days," he says, looking over at Stiles, suggesting without saying that yes, he spent days watching that film on loop; days being brainwashed, and at some point, it actually started working.
His voice is lower still when be speaks once more, looking over at Stiles, knowing his face, knowing his name; remembering things that can't be real but certainly feel like it, and he's weak enough in the moment to ask. "Help me."
no subject
The two of them move toward the exit to leave the room and Derek shakes his head at the question. He waits, though, until they're out of earshot of the playing area. "I don't care where we go. You're real. ...So what else is real in here?" he asks more than says, tapping a finger against the side of his head. "I can't sort anything out, anymore. I was in orientation for days," he says, looking over at Stiles, suggesting without saying that yes, he spent days watching that film on loop; days being brainwashed, and at some point, it actually started working.
His voice is lower still when be speaks once more, looking over at Stiles, knowing his face, knowing his name; remembering things that can't be real but certainly feel like it, and he's weak enough in the moment to ask. "Help me."