Derek's reply was automatic, without hesitation. He plucked the glass from Isaac's hand and set it down on the bedside table before turning his hand, lacing his finger's with Isaac as he climbed into bed beside him and pulled the boy bodily against him, rearranging the sheet and light blanket he slept with during the summer over their bodies.
"Do you feel like talking?" He nosed against the boy's ear, his neck and shoulder, marking and comforting all at once. "It helps, sometimes." Which was Derek's way of saying that he also suffered from nightmares. He'd crawled into Laura's bed more than once after the fire.